Powerhouse

by Rebecca York

  “I think we’ve had enough side trips for the moment.”

  Matt could have pushed the guy. But he knew they would get to the kidnap hideout sooner or later. Instead, he took another tack

  “Like I told you, we’ve been working with the FBI. With agent Perry Owens who’s been out here on a special assignment. If you contact him, he’ll vouch for what’s happened.” I hope, Matt added under his breath.

  “If so, they haven’t been operating according to regulations.”

  Matt shrugged. “Ask Owens about it.”

  As they drove into town, he tried to get comfortable with his hands cuffed behind his back.

  “What happens to my son?” he asked.

  “They’ll take him to child protective services—unless you have a relative in the area.”

  “We’re from Colorado.”

  “Then juvenile services will take him and give him a medical check-up.”

  “God no! He’ll be scared out of his mind. We just got him back, and he needs his mother.”

  “Sorry,” the officer said, sounding sympathetic. “But we can’t bend the rules.”

  “Of course not,” Matt muttered, and it wouldn’t do any good to push these guys. They weren’t the ones who had Trevor.

  They drove back to Rapid City, to the police headquarters. Inside the building, Matt looked around for Shelley and Trevor, but he didn’t see either one of them.

  “Call Special Agent Perry Owens,” he said again, praying that the cops could find the guy—and that he’d cooperate. For good measure, he said it silently, too.

  But instead of answering, they hustled him into a cell, and when the door clanked closed behind him, he had to fight the urge to scream. Another cell. Like years ago. Only different, he told himself as he sat down on the hard bunk, ordering himself not to freak out.

  Time dragged. He tried to reach out to Shelley, but he had no sense that she was even in the building. Maybe it had something to do with the construction. Or maybe there was a limit to his power, and he was just so burned out that he couldn’t use it now.

  That thought wasn’t comforting.

  Instead he lay on his bunk trying to keep from leaping up and shaking the bars of his cell.

  Finally footsteps came down the hall. When he looked up, relief washed over him. Perry Owens was with one of the officers who had taken them into custody.

  “You vouch for him?” the officer said.

  “Yes. We were running a sting operation, trying to get the kid back. Only Whitlock and Young panicked and took off after the boy on their own.”

  That wasn’t exactly what Matt remembered, but he wasn’t going to contradict Owens, since the guy had come down here.

  The officer unlocked the cell and took them to a lounge area, where Matt’s heart leapt when he saw Shelley and Trevor on a plastic couch.

  “Thank God,” he said, rushing toward them. He wanted to pull Shelley into his arms, but she was holding Trevor, who had fallen asleep, probably from exhaustion. Instead he sat down next to her and slung his arm around her shoulder.

  The cops and Owens must have worked something out, because the officer left, and the FBI agent sat down on a couch opposite them.

  “What about the guys who were following us?” Matt said.

  “They’re not talking.”

  “Great.”

  “But we have their cell phone records. We think they are working for Sykes—or the Association. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I’d like to have a look at the cabin where Blue was holding your son.”

  “Okay.” He looked at Shelley. “I can take Special Agent Owens back there. Why don’t you and Trevor wait for me here in town?”

  She hesitated a moment, and he knew she was torn. She didn’t want to be alone, but at the same time, she didn’t want Trevor anywhere near that place. Finally she nodded.

  Matt turned to Owens. “Get her a room in a five-star hotel. The FBI can pay for it.”

  The agent gave him an annoyed look. “It’s not enough that I got them to drop all charges against you?”

  “That’s right.”

  Owens sighed. “Only for one night.”

  They drove to a resort hotel, where Matt settled Shelley and Trevor into an expensive suite.

  Once they were back in the car, Owens said, “I see you were smart enough not to mention Sykes’s experiments. I’d like to keep that information quiet.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “We act like this was a kidnapping—for ransom.”

  “If you say so.”

  “You want to expose your kid to a media circus and have the world think he’s a psychic freak?”

  “No,” Matt snapped.

  “Okay. I’ve already persuaded the cops to keep this under wraps. They think other children will be in jeopardy if this story gets out.”

  “Clever.”

  “For all I know, it’s true.”

  Matt nodded.

  “You just have to follow my lead.”

  They returned to police headquarters where they picked up one of the officers who had arrested Matt and Shelley. Then Matt, Owens and the cop drove back to the cabin.

  “They were holding your son for ransom?” the cop asked.

  “Yeah,” Matt answered because he’d decided that Owens’s plan made sense.

  “How did you find him?”

  “A tip.”

  Inside the cabin, the cop looked at the hypodermic lying on the floor. “What’s this, drug paraphernalia?”

  “Maybe the guy was a drug addict,” Owens said, and Matt knew that the agent had already thought of the answers he was going to give. Probably a clean-up team was on it’s way to take away the evidence the FBI wanted to remain hidden.

  When Matt saw the small handcuff attached to the bedpost, he almost lost it. But he managed to keep his cool because he knew he had to.

  “You’re satisfied this is a kidnap scene?” Owens asked.

  “Yes,” the officer answered.

  “Then I’m sure Mr. Whitlock would like to get back to Ms. Young and their child.”

  The cop nodded, and they climbed back into the car.

  “I appreciate your discretion,” Owens said when they dropped the cop off back at the station.

  Finally, Owens drove to the hotel. “I’d like to talk to Trevor,” he said.

  “Not now.”

  “I thought that was part of the deal.”

  “I’m taking him back to the ranch. After he has a chance to unwind, you can talk to him.”

  “Did he acquire any special powers?” Owens asked.

  Matt hesitated, then finally said, “He was able to reach out to his mother. That’s how we found him.”

  Owens whistled through his teeth.

  “He’s just a little boy, and he’s been traumatized. He needs to mend.”

  “You’re sure your lady will go back home with you?”

  Matt looked down. “I’m hoping she will.”

  “We’ll keep the ranch under surveillance,” Owens said. “Sykes isn’t going to get to you again.”

  Matt nodded. But he wasn’t going to let down his own guard.

  He hurried up to the suite and found Shelley and Trevor in the sitting area, sharing a room-service meal of hamburgers and French fries.

  Shelley gave him a questioning look.

  “Everything’s fine,” he said.

  She pointed to a plate with a metal dome. “Your burger and fries are under there. I think they should be warm.”

  He sat down on the couch and took the cover off the plate, staring down at the simple meal.

  “The fries are good,” Trevor said.

  Matt picked one up and chewed. “You’re right.”

  Trevor watched him eat. “You’re really my dad?” he asked again.

  “Yes,” he answered, struggling not to choke up.

  “My mom’s been telling me about you. You live on a ranch,
and you used to have horses.”

  “I’m going to have them again,” he said, because he could see that part of his future very clearly, even if he couldn’t see the rest. Giving up the profession he loved had been part of his withdrawal from the world. Now he was determined to plunge back in—no matter what.

  “And Mom says you have an airplane.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Can I fly in it?”

  “Tomorrow. I’ll take you back to the ranch.”

  “Cool! Are we going to live with you now?”

  Matt swallowed. “I want you to. If that’s what your mom wants.”

  He held his breath, waiting for her answer.

  “Yes.”

  “Thank the Lord.” He reached for her and pulled her into his arms, holding tight.

  “Are you gonna do a lot of hugging?” Trevor asked.

  “Yes,” they both said.

  Matt fought the tears stinging the backs of his eyes. In a thousand years, he never would have imagined this moment.

  “Can I hug, too?” Trevor asked.

  “Of course.” Matt held out his arm, and the boy launched himself against him. He gathered his son close, holding the two people who mattered most to him in the world.

  After a while, Shelley eased away. “You need to finish your dinner, then it’s bath time.”

  “There’s nothing for my bedtime story.”

  “What stories do you like?” Matt asked with a lump in his throat.

  “Green Eggs and Ham.”

  Shelley laughed. “That’s no problem. We both know that one by heart.”

  “We don’t have the pictures.”

  “We’ll tell your dad what the pictures are.”

  “Okay.”

  Matt sat in the big bathroom while Shelley bathed their son. And he sat with them in bed while they told him the green-eggs-and-ham story.

  There were a few difficult moments at the end where Trevor didn’t want to go to sleep. But Shelley was firm.

  They both kissed Trevor good night, then slipped into the living room.

  “You’re a good mother,” Matt said.

  “I try to be.”

  “It must have been hard for you.”

  “I understand now that I made it harder than I should have. I should have come back to you with Trevor.”

  “You’re here now.”

  “I was terrified that you’d be angry with me.”

  “I’m thankful that I have the two of you now.”

  “What’s going to happen?” she whispered. “I mean about Sykes?”

  “The FBI is going to keep a watch on us.”

  “Good. But I wish they didn’t have to talk to Trevor.”

  “I know. But we owe them something—for helping us.”

  “Because it was to their advantage,” she reminded him.

  “But we’re going to live our lives like normal people. All three of us.”

  “If we can.”

  He gave her a fierce look. “One thing I learned over the past few days is that I want everything I’ve missed. As a kid. And with you and Trevor.”

  “Won’t it be expensive to start working the ranch again?”

  “Yeah, but some of my horses are at a neighboring spread. Ted Dunster boarded them for me. And as soon as I tell people I’m back in business, they’ll come to me.”

  “And I can help out. I mean, I don’t have to give up my clients. I do most of my work by e-mail anyway. That will bring in a decent income.”

  “Yes. But enough business talk.”

  He lowered his mouth to her for a long hungry kiss, and when he finally came up for air, his head was spinning.

  “Oh, my,” he said. “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t have to feel guilty about wanting you.”

  “Oh, Matt. Oh,” she said again as his hands moved urgently up and down her back, then cupped her hips, pressing her against his erection.

  He was about to start unbuttoning her blouse, when a small voice said from the doorway, “Are you going to get married?”

  Shelley jumped and eased away, but he managed to keep his cool. “Yes we are,” he said.

  “Can I come to the wedding?” Trevor said.

  “Of course. You can be my best man.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The man who stands beside the groom and hands him the wedding ring.”

  “Okay.”

  “What are you doing out of bed?” Shelley asked.

  “I just wanted to make sure you were getting married.”

  “Nothing to worry about on that score,” Matt answered.

  Shelley took one of her son’s hands and Matt took the other and they walked him back to his bed, where they tucked him in again before heading to the other bedroom, where Matt locked the door and turned to Shelley.

  “That could have been embarrassing.”

  “You’ll have to get used to having a little pitcher with big ears—and eyes—around.”

  “Not a problem.”

  He gathered her close and brought them back to the place where they’d been before they were interrupted.

  “I love you,” he said, between passionate kisses. “I never should have sent you away.”

  “I always loved you. I shouldn’t have left.”

  “Oh, Lord, Shelley. I’m never going to let you go. Neither one of you.”

  “And I’ll be at the ranch. With you. Where I should have been all along. I’m sorry it took something bad to send me back to you.”

  “But you’re here now. That’s what counts.”

  “Yes,” she murmured against his lips as they proclaimed in no uncertain terms what they meant to each other. Now and forever.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-4840-7

  POWERHOUSE

  Copyright © 2010 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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