Her sister twisted and turned, fighting a useless battle against big hands and powerful arms. Alexa skirted her car as the men stepped into the back of the van, taking Abby with them. Abby’s pleading shouts for help echoed into the night until the door quickly closed and the van screeched off.
Alexa sprinted after the vehicle, screaming until she came to her senses and dashed back to the car. Olivia cried in the backseat, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Oh, baby. Oh, honey.” Alexa fumbled with Olivia’s buckle. Her hands shook and her breath heaved as she freed her daughter from her booster and clutched her close, rocking them both on the edge of the seat. She reached forward and rummaged through her purse in the center console, searching for her phone. Grabbing it up, she dialed nine-one-one. Her eyes darted around the dark, desolate, parking lot, and her teeth chattered while her body shuddered in sheer terror.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“Someone took my sister,” she gasped between panicked breaths. “Someone took my sister.”
It was well after midnight when Alexa let herself into her small home. On autopilot, she carried Livy to the couch, laid her down, and covered her with a fleece blanket, too terrified to put her daughter in her bed, or even let her out of her sight. With her arms empty and suddenly feeling cold, Alexa glanced into the moonless darkness boring through the windows. She hurried around the living room, quickly twisting the blinds and yanking curtains closed, before she turned on every light she could. It was so quiet—too quiet—in her little corner of the woods. Her house, tucked among the trees on the outskirts of town, always brought her comfort, but not tonight.
Head pounding, heart aching, Alexa sat down and pressed a hand to her nauseous stomach. She stared at the lists she’d made before her family left for their week of fun in Virginia. Abby’s small graduation barbeque was supposed to be tomorrow night. She wanted to do more, so much more for her sister, but money was tight. Purchasing streamers, balloons, napkins, and a million other items had been her biggest worry just hours ago. Now she wished juggling a couple hundred dollars was her biggest issue.
Alexa rested her weary head in her hands. “My God,” she whispered, still unable to believe that two men had snatched her sister away. Abby was really gone. This had to be a dream. Glancing up, she looked at Gran’s piano in the corner of the small room, the fireplace with the decorative display of wood and candles in its center, and Livy’s toys and books tucked away neatly in the antique box by the window. Alexa knew she wasn’t asleep; she was in the middle of a nightmare, but she was wide-awake.
Tears trailed down her cheeks one after another as she sighed out an unsteady breath. “What am I going to do? How will I get her back?” Where did she start?
The police were doing everything they could. They’d released Abby’s picture to the media along with the few details they had on her case, but it wasn’t enough. There were too many questions and hardly any answers, even after the police interview. She’d clutched Olivia in her arms for hours while she gave the detectives a description of the van and the two muscled men in black masks and jeans who had grabbed her sister, yet she hadn’t been able to give them a license plate number. She never looked as she ran after the Chevy. And although she’d racked her brain, she couldn’t think of a single individual who would wish her sister harm. Abby didn’t have enemies. Everyone loved her. She was so warm and fun.
Restless and too frantic to be still, Alexa stood again, wandering the room like a lost soul. How could she have forgotten to get the license number? She didn’t even know what state the vehicle was from. She’d felt even stupider when she couldn’t give the officers a make and model of the van until she searched the catalog they gave her. She’d let Abby down in so many ways, and as a result, Alexa left the precinct the way she had arrived—powerless and without her sister.
Alexa stopped by the mantel and stared at the photo of her, Livy, and Abby grinning for the camera in their winter gear. They’d had so much fun at the town’s annual Christmas Festival months before. Lips trembling, Alexa gasped for air as she gave in to her depthless sorrow. She crumbled to the floor and wept, drowning in her fear. “Oh, God, Abby. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I let you down.”
On the couch, Livy stirred. “Mommy?”
“I’m right here, honey.” She took a deep breath and wiped at her eyes, struggling to steady her voice. “I’m right here.” Alexa used the last of her reserves to walk to her little girl, sit on the corner of the cushion, and smile. “Close your eyes, Lovely Livy.” She stroked her fingers through her daughter’s soft, wheat-colored hair. “It’s late.”
“Where’s Auntie Ab?”
Alexa’s lip wobbled. How much did Olivia see? What did she remember? Would she be traumatized? “She’s not here right now.”
“Why did they make her cry, mommy?”
“Oh, Livy.” Alexa scooped her up and cuddled her in her lap, sweeping her hair away from her forehead. “The police are going to bring her home soon.” She had to believe it. As she held her daughter close, clinging, breathing in the comfort of her baby, she shut her eyes. At moments like this, the heavy weight of raising her child on her own, of having no one else to depend on, was crushing. “Let’s get you to bed. You can sleep with me tonight.”
“Okay, mommy.” Livy kissed her cheek.
Alexa stood and carried Livy with her to check the lock. She struggled to push the sturdy wooden bench in front of the door and left the lights blazing before she grabbed her cell phone and purse, desperately hoping Abby would find a way to call.
As she climbed the steep stairs, Livy’s breathing deepened, evening out. Alexa turned into her room and could only be thankful she’d forgotten to open the blinds before they left on their trip. She didn’t want to face the shadows cast by the scant sliver of moon peeking through the increasing clouds or wonder who might be in the dark, watching. Shuddering, she flipped on the dim overhead light. She pulled the covers back and lay Livy down, gently tugging off her shorts, and covered her against the chill of the still, cool nights.
Alexa settled in next to her, fully clothed in her jeans and Virginia Beach t-shirt, hopeful the police would call and tell her to come pick up Abby. She didn’t want to waste time getting dressed.
She stared at the pictures on her dresser. One of her and Livy moments after she’d pushed her daughter into the world. Livy’s first birthday. Her first steps. Somehow the years had rushed by, and her baby was three-and-a-half. How did that happen?
She looked at the photos hanging on the wall—the last family picture before Gran passed so unexpectedly and the new frame with pictures of Abby in her college cap and gown. She was stunning, with long, glossy, black hair, her classic oval face and flawless complexion, those huge dark blue eyes dancing with energy and fun. Everyone had always said she and Abby could pass for identical twins, but Alexa’s cheekbones were sharper, and she had a good two inches on her sister’s five-four, willowy frame. Alexa closed her eyes again when the pain became too much. “Oh, Ab, please be okay. Please.”
Her cellphone rang, and she jumped. She grabbed the phone up in trembling hands and fumbled it. “Abby?”
More ringing.
Frowning, she looked at her phone, confused, before she realized the ringing wasn’t coming from her cell but from somewhere in her purse. She reached forward, yanking her bag off the nightstand, and rummaged through until she discovered the small Verizon flip phone. “Hello? Abby?”
“Guess again,” the sexless computerized voice said.
“Who—who is this?” Her heart slammed in her chest as she realized she was talking to Abby’s kidnapper. “Where’s my sister?”
“I talk. You listen.”
She struggled not to shout her questions, to demand answers, fearful that disobeying might harm her sister.
&nbs
p; “You’ve already messed up, sister Alexa. You shouldn’t have involved the police or the press. Now we have to up the ante.”
They knew her name. Did they know where she lived? She rushed out of bed and peeked around the corner of the window shade. Her eyes darted about, scrutinizing the trees surrounding her home. “What do you want? I’ll do anything.”
The mechanical laughter erupting in her ear sent shivers along her spine. She stepped away from the window.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand by Monday morning—2 AM. Leave it in your savings account. We’ll take care of it from there.”
“But…” A quarter of a million dollars? Alexa paced about as cold sweat dripped down her back. She didn’t have that kind of money, not even close, but she didn’t dare say so. “Let me talk to Abby.”
“I do the demanding, not you, bitch. Forty-eight hours. No more police. No more press. Silence will save your sister’s life until we get the money. Keep your new phone handy if you want to see her alive.” The line went dead.
“Wait. Wait. Hello?” Alexa sunk to the bed, listening to the dial tone, then sprang back up to pace the room again. Teeth chattering, she sucked in rapid breath after rapid breath. She had fifteen thousand to her name and not a penny more. What was she going to do? With unsteady fingers, she pulled the card the detective had given her from her pocket and dialed, then stopped abruptly. Would the kidnappers find out? “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do,” she said out loud as she pressed at the throb in her temple. Every move might be the wrong one. Every move had the potential to harm her sister. Unsure, she stared at the paper in her hand, then shoved it away again. The kidnapper said no one.
Alexa studied the cell she’d been given, noting the full battery and three hundred minutes someone had put on the pre-paid phone. They had to have slipped it in her purse when they took Abby from the car. What other explanation was there? Whoever did this planned Abby’s abduction carefully, of this she had no doubt. Whoever took Abby knew Alexa’s name, what she drove, and more than likely that she was a single mother home alone in the small house in the woods.
She rushed to her door, shut it, and shoved the solid oak dresser in front of it. No one was getting in there with the heavy antique furniture in place. Despite her efforts to reassure herself, she grabbed the baseball bat she kept under her bed. She clutched the Louisville Slugger close as she sat on the mattress and leaned against the headboard, staring at her sister’s picture, listening to every creak as the old house settled around her, until the sun’s rays brightened the morning sky.
Chapter 3
“I’m sorry, Alexa. We’ve run your credit. Although you’re in good financial standing, you don’t make enough to qualify for a loan of this size, especially with your mortgage and two car loans.”
“I’ll sell the house and the cars. I need this money, Mr. Macabee. I’ll pay every dime back.” It would take her the rest of her life and a second job—maybe a third, but that didn’t matter. “I’ll call the realtor right now. We can put the house on the market today. With the improvements I’ve made—the painting, the front gardens… I have to have this money,” she repeated, squeezing her hands together in her lap, trying hard not to sound too desperate. She’d saved for the down payment for her tiny two-bedroom, one-bath fixer-upper for three years. The living room was just big enough for Livy to play, the simple furniture she’d refurbished herself, and her grandmother’s piano she treasured. She’d give it all up in a heartbeat for Abby.
“Alexa, let me be frank with you, honey, and it’s hard, especially at a time like this with everything you’re going through. I’ve known you since you were a little girl. Your grandmother kept her money in our bank most of her life. Even if you sold the house and yours and Abby’s cars, you still wouldn’t qualify. You’re a one-income household. With the loans you took out to help Abby with her schooling and the medical bills you’re still paying after your Gran’s last hospitalization… The monthly payments would eat up your entire salary and then some. Teaching’s a noble profession, but it doesn’t pay much.”
Did he think she didn’t know that? Each month was a struggle to stay afloat financially, but they were making it. As the last of her hope withered away, Alexa closed her eyes and took a deep breath against another torrent of tears. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Mr. Macabee what the money was for. Surely he would find a way. He’d known her and Abby for as long as she could remember, but she didn’t dare. The kidnappers said no one.
She glanced at Livy coloring in the Dora activity book she’d brought along. “Can you run my numbers again? There has to be something...”
Mr. Macabee’s pudgy, lined face sagged as he sighed and took her hand. “Alexa, it won’t do any good. If there were any way, I’d walk into that vault and hand it over right now. I may work and live in a small town, but I have my suspicions as to what this money’s for, honey.”
She gripped his hand tight and evaded his gaze. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Honey, this isn’t the way. Even if I could give you the cash, it wouldn’t guarantee Abby’s safe return. After you hand it over, they may very well ask for more.”
Her fingers went lax and she pulled away. “I need her back, Mr. Macabee. I can hardly breathe without her.” The heavy weight of living without Abby, of letting her down, was almost more than she could stand. She’d always taken care of her sister; she’d always taken care of everything. Gran’s Rheumatoid arthritis had worsened rapidly, disfiguring much of her body, not giving Alexa much of a choice, but she’d never minded. Gran had given them a safe haven from her mother’s mental illness.
“Stay in contact with the police, honey. Give them time to do their job. Don’t give up hope. We’re all praying so hard for Abby’s safe return.”
Nodding, Alexa struggled to swallow the lump in her throat. She stood up. “Please keep this between us. They might—they might…” She looked at Livy, unable to let herself think about what the kidnappers might do to Abby.
He nodded. “Of course.”
Alexa gathered up crayons and shoved them in the box. She couldn’t be here anymore. She wanted to lash out at Mr. Macabee, to yank him up by his over-starched collar and demand what she’d come for. He had piles of money just sitting in his vault, stacks of stupid green paper that could save her sister’s life, yet he refused. “Livy, honey, it’s time to go.”
“Okay, Mommy. Do you like my picture?”
Alexa crouched down, fighting to be in the moment with her little girl. She had to keep herself together for Livy. Everything had to stay as normal as possible. As much as she wanted to fall apart, she would never do to her daughter what her mother had done to her and Abby. “I definitely do. You did such a nice job staying in the lines. We should put this on the fridge when we get home.”
Livy gave her a huge grin. Her father’s grin.
“We’ll tuck this away for now.” Alexa closed the coloring book and put it in the small canvas bag. “Come on.” She held out her hand, and Livy took it.
“I’m hungry. I want peanut butter and jelly for lunch.”
They were low on bread, peanut butter, jelly, and everything else for that matter. They had to go to the store. Her sister was missing, but Alexa had to struggle to keep up with life as it continued to move on. “We need to stop off at the grocery store. You can be my helper.”
“I’m a very good helper.”
“Yes, you are. The best.” Alexa walked out of Mr. Macabee’s office and stopped. News vans and eager reporters waited on the steps outside the glass doors. Damn. They weren’t supposed to know. How did they find her? Did they follow her here? The phone calls had started early in the morning. Now this.
Mr. Macabee stepped up behind her. “Alexa, honey, why don’t you go out the back door? Give me your keys. Meet me down the block. We’ll get you out of her
e.”
Anger still coursed through her as she faced him, but that would do nothing for Abby. He was willing to help her avoid the press. She would take what little help he offered and find another way to come up with the funds the kidnappers were demanding. How to do that was the big question. The dread of not finding an answer in time curdled her stomach and sent her pulse pounding. “Thank you.” She handed him her keys and concentrated on keeping her hand steady as her heart rate continued to soar. Picking up Livy, she hurried out the back door and rushed down the alley toward Old Main Street. She shoved her sunglasses in place and looked down, oblivious to the charm of the small town she’d always loved, avoiding eye contact with anyone she might know.
Within moments, Mr. Macabee showed up in her car, slowed down, and pulled to the curb. “They’re full of questions, Alexa. They want this story. They might be able to help you,” he said as he rounded the front.
Alexa opened the back door for Livy to crawl in to her booster. She leaned forward and buckled her daughter in. “I can’t talk to them. Thank you again, Mr. Macabee.” Alexa hurried to the driver’s side as she looked down the street, watching one of the reporters watch her. “I have to go.” She got in and drove off quickly.
As she made her way to the local grocer, Alexa glanced in her rearview mirror and relaxed a fraction when she saw no one was following. She yearned to turn around and go to the press, to beg for any help they were willing to give, but after the phone call last night she didn’t dare. She couldn’t afford to be seen anywhere near a reporter.
She and Livy would hurry through the store and get what they needed, then go home and lock out the world. She wanted to check in with Detective Canon and find a way to come up with the money.
Forever Alexa (Book Four In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series) Page 2