Thicker Than Water

by Maggie Shayne

  “Didn’t they know that house was full of innocent girls?”

  “I don’t think they much cared. I thought the girls in the bunkhouses would surrender, but instead they fled into the main house. When I saw the fire—flames licking up from the house and no one coming out—God, I wanted to die. All I could think was that I had been there. I could have warned them before the soldiers attacked. They could have had a chance.”

  Her hand slid over his on the steering wheel. “It wouldn’t have mattered. Most of them would have stayed anyway. He had them so brainwashed, they’d have followed him into hell if he’d asked it.”

  “Not all of you.”

  She nodded. “There might have been a few of us who would have heeded your warning, Sean. But Mordecai wouldn’t have let us leave anyway.”

  “I’ll never know that, because I didn’t try.”

  “You didn’t know it would go down the way it did. You expected those troops would walk in there, and walk out again with Mordecai in handcuffs. You expected them to free all those girls. You had no way of knowing.”

  “I should have tried.” He turned his hand over, lacing his fingers with hers. “I’d seen you there. You and Lizzie and Dawn. The thought of that little baby haunted my dreams for months after that raid. I thought—I thought she’d died in the fire.”

  She frowned so deeply that he thought he might have angered her. “Is that why you’re helping us now? Out of some sense of guilt for what happened that day?”

  He pulled the car to a stop at a red light, turned to stare into her eyes. “Partly. Does it matter?”

  She shifted her eyes, a sure sign of a lie. “No. Of course not. It’s just that you don’t need to perform an act of penitence, Sean. We survived.”

  “Thank God.”

  “And even if we hadn’t, none of it was your fault.”

  He looked down at their joined hands. “How did you get out of that hell alive, Jones?”

  “We broke our locked door open and headed down to the tunnel in the basement. We could hear Dawnie crying from down there. Lizzie had been shot, but she never let on. On the way downstairs, we found two other girls alive and we took them with us.” She shook her head slowly. “We ran into Mordecai down there, too. Lizzie yanked the keys from the chain on his neck, and I took the baby from him. Then he was buried underneath a mountain of flaming debris when the ceiling collapsed. I would have sworn he was dead.”

  “But he wasn’t.”

  She shook her head slowly. “Just before the tunnel, Lizzie sank to the floor. She begged me to take care of Dawnie. She told me to take the money I would find hidden in the tunnel and use it to start a new life for her baby. And then she died. I dragged her body into the tunnel and left her there, so she wouldn’t burn with Mordecai.”

  Tears flowed down her cheeks now.

  “We made our way out,” she said. “Tessa and Sirona and Dawn and me. We split up the money, and we went our separate ways, each of us vowing never to breathe a word of what had happened there that night. We picked new names right then and there, and we picked cities in which to hide. We promised to keep our phone numbers listed, under our new names, in case we ever needed to get in touch.”

  “I can’t even believe…you were what? Sixteen?”

  “Seventeen by then.”

  “How did you get by?”

  “It’s amazing what you can do when you have the money, Sean. And there was a lot of money in those duffel bags. I hired a P. I. to create a new identity for me and for Dawn. Forged birth certificates and Social Security numbers. I bought the house and hired a nanny and enrolled in journalism classes.” She shrugged. “The rest, you pretty much know.”

  He was stunned. “What—what was your name, Julie? Your real name?”

  She smiled just a little. “Jewel Jordan.”

  “And Dawnie?”

  “Lizzie named her Sunshine. Called her Sunny for short.”

  He nodded. “You said Mordecai loved her, in his way. Do you think he would hurt her?”

  She met his probing eyes. “I don’t want to think it, but…yes, I know he would. If she doesn’t fall into line with his expectations, I’m afraid that’s exactly what he’ll do.”

  Sean wasn’t going to let that happen. Something, some unrecognizable being he’d never met before, seemed to emerge from inside him, growing until it filled his entire body. It stiffened his spine and swelled his chest. He was going to get Dawn back. He was going to make her mother’s life all right again. He didn’t know how, and he was afraid to examine why. He only knew he would. He must.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “This is it,” the kidnapper said, his voice little more than a whisper, his eyes a little moist as he stared through the windshield and brought the car to a stop.

  Dawn looked, too. The house stood in the darkness like a jewel nestled in a crown of crystal mountains, emerald pines and a glittering diamond lake all drenched in moonlight. It was a redbrick mansion, with curving white balconies and towering white pillars. The driveway was lined in red gravel.

  “Well?”

  He was looking at her, she realized, waiting for her to say…something. “It’s…really beautiful.”

  “Wait until you see inside.” He opened his door. “Come on.”

  Dawn frowned as he got out of the car. He wasn’t menacing or frightening now. Not that he really had been—since he’d put the gun away, at least. He was more like an excited child, eager to show off his newly made clay ashtray. She got out and looked around, wondering if she should run. But there was nothing. Just woods, and that gorgeous lake. The winding road they’d taken to this place had been narrow and unpaved. She couldn’t remember the last sign of intelligent life they’d passed. It had to be a long way back.

  “Come on,” he called, halfway to the front door now, looking back at her, smiling.

  Sighing, Dawn went to him. He would only come after her if she ran—and he still had that gun. Best not to give him a reason to use it.

  He walked her to a big wooden door with a huge stained-glass oval inset and a brass knocker with a lion’s head, digging a key ring from his pocket on the way. Then he opened the door with a flourish, and stood aside. “Your castle awaits.”

  “My castle?”

  His smile faltered. He lifted a hand, ran it over her hair, and she forced herself not to shiver at his touch. “All this is for you, baby. Don’t you realize that? I bought it before you were born, and I’ve been fixing it up all this time—just for you. Getting ready for the day we’d be together again. I knew they couldn’t keep us apart forever. You’re—you’re mine.” He smiled again, but it was shaky. “My only child. Heir to all I have—all I am.”

  She licked her lips, tried to return his smile.

  “You don’t even know what that means yet, do you, Sunny?”

  “N-no.”

  “It’s all right. You will. Come on, come inside.”

  Nodding, Dawn walked past him into a foyer that arched to the sky. Tall windows glittered with starlight from outside, until he flipped on a switch and flooded the room with light from a giant crystal chandelier. Ahead of her, a broad staircase rose and split into two staircases that rose even higher and curved in opposite directions.

  “What do you think?” he asked. “Ready for the grand tour, or would you rather see your rooms first?”

  “I…” She searched her brain, praying she would say the right thing—the thing that would preserve his tender mood and not anger him. “I am a little tired,” s he said. “And I’d like to clean up.”

  “Your rooms, then. You’ll find everything you need there.”

  “If you’re sure that’s okay with you. We can do the tour after.”

  “Of course it’s okay. I want you to be happy here, Sunny. Please believe that.”

  “I do. I…I do.”

  His smile was back, full and firm, as he turned and led the way up the stairs. He took the left flight, which ended at a stretch of open
hall with a railing. She could look down into the foyer for part of the way; then they entered an enclosed hallway, with numerous doors. At the far end, he opened a set of double doors and ushered her into what she could only guess he saw as “her rooms.”

  The floor was lined in deep plush carpet of pale pink. The walls were papered in pink roses, and the tooled woodwork was ivory toned. A small round table seemed set for high tea, with a gleaming silver service and delicate china cups. Further inside, there was an overstuffed love seat, a matching chair and a wooden rocker with a giant teddy bear sitting on it. An entertainment center covered one entire wall, with a wide-screen TV, DVD player, VCR, video-game console and stereo system lining its shelves, alongside delicate knickknacks and china dolls in elaborate gowns and feathered hats.

  He opened a door, leading the way through it into a second room, where there was a pink canopy bed that was loaded with so many pillows and stuffed animals she could barely see the comforter. There were dressers and lamps, far too much to take in. He opened a sliding door to reveal a closet full of clothes and another door to reveal a bathroom straight out of a fantasy, with a tub as big as a small pool.

  “This is…all this is for me?”

  “All this…and so much more. But we’ll get to that.” He pointed to the French doors at the far end of the bedroom. “Those lead onto your private balcony. There’s a hot tub out there. And a beautiful view of the lake.”

  She moved closer, then looked past him as he held the curtains open, toward the lake below, moonlight gleaming on its surface. She swallowed hard, wondering why such a beautiful sight should make her feel like crying. She had to look away, toward the bookshelves. Then she frowned, noting the titles. All of his own books were there, along with copies of the Torah, the Que’ran, the Bible, the Tibetan Book of the Dead and many others.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I don’t expect you to study tonight. There will be plenty of time for that after you’re rested and feeling more comfortable here.”

  She faced him, lifting her brows. “Study?”

  He nodded. “I’m not an ordinary man, Sunny. I’m…far more—but you already know that, don’t you?” She nodded. He paced across the floor, never taking his eyes from her. “And because I’m more than ordinary, so are you. We were put on this earth for a reason, Sunny. We have a mission, you and I.”

  A little shiver danced along her spine. “A…a mission?”

  “Yes. A mission from God.” He smiled gently. “It’s all right if you don’t understand just yet. You will. For now, why don’t you clean up, and get some rest, hmm? We’ll talk more in the morning.”

  Swallowing hard, certain now that he was insane, she nodded and forced a smile.

  He turned as if to leave but stopped at the bedroom door. “Now, I know you might be tempted, Sunny, but please, don’t try to run away from me.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “Of course you were thinking about it. You wouldn’t be your mother’s daughter if you weren’t. She tried to run away from me. That’s…that’s why she died, you see? She went against spirit’s plan, tried to thwart me in my mission.” He gazed at her lovingly. “It would kill me if something like that were to happen to you, too.”

  He blew her a kiss, then walked out of the room.

  Dawn backed up until her back hit the wall, then slowly sank to the floor and, hugging her knees to her chest, cried.

  * * *

  It was late by the time Sean pulled his Porsche into Julie’s driveway, killed the engine, and turned to look at her. His former sparring partner sat there staring blankly at the dark, empty house. Not a trace of life lingered in her usually sparkling eyes. She’d stopped talking around the time night fell. He understood that. It was worse, somehow, to think of Dawn in the hands of a madman in the dark.

  Impulsively he put a hand on her shoulder.

  She blinked, but didn’t turn to face him. “It looks so empty.”

  “I know.”

  “I thought we’d have her back by now.”

  “We’ll get her back soon, Jones. Don’t doubt it.”

  She turned her face toward him, and her eyes were wet, red rimmed, puffy. Her hair was a mess. She looked like hell, and yet he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He wanted to pull her close. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to tell her about this new feeling that was suddenly infecting his every thought. But he couldn’t. Not now, not until Dawn was safe and home. He was ashamed of himself for thinking about his own feelings at a time like this. And yet he couldn’t stop himself. His brain had picked up a virus, and no matter what program he tried to run, the symptoms remained. He was sick about Dawnie. He would willingly saw off a limb with a dull blade to get her back. And even while he was cutting, he thought, he would be looking at Julie Jones, wanting to hold her, to taste her, to save her.

  He was looking at her now.

  And she was looking back, her haunted eyes getting damp before she lowered them. “We should go inside.”

  He didn’t reply, because he was stuck where he was, aching with her pain, searching for a way to ease it and knowing he couldn’t. Then something tapped the window beside him, and he damn near jumped out of his seat.

  “Rodney!” Jones cried. She opened her door, jumped out awkwardly and, dragging her crutches with her, hobbled around the car to the old man from next door.

  Sean got out, too, then felt an irrational rush of jealousy when the fellow wrapped Julie up in his arms. “I heard about Dawnie,” he told her. “It’s been all over the television. God, Julie, I’m so sorry.”

  He was holding her, rocking her in his arms. Julie even hugged him back a little, without letting go of her crutches, and let some of the tears she’d been holding in check spill onto her cheeks. Sean could only stand there wondering what to do with himself. He felt like an outsider, all of the sudden. But then Julie extricated herself gently from the older man’s embrace, hopped a step or two back. “We’re going to get her back,” she told him. And when she said it, she looked toward Sean, as if for reassurance.

  “Damn straight we’ll get her back,” Sean confirmed for her. “This Z character doesn’t know what a hornets’ nest he’s stirred up.”

  Rodney nodded hard. “If I were a younger man—”

  He met Sean’s eyes and let the rest go unsaid. Sean only nodded his understanding. Julie turned toward the front door, then paused. “My keys…” Then she closed her eyes. “Hell, they’re still in the car, over that cliff up north.”

  “I still have the one you gave me after the new locks were put in,” Rodney said. He took the key out of his pocket.

  Sean took it from him, helped Julie up the front steps and then started unlocking the door. “The place is a mess, Jones. Like I told you, someone was here before the police, and then—”

  “I cleaned it up, best I could,” Rodney said. When Sean frowned at him, he went on. “I hope that’s okay. I was too damn worried to sit home, and I got to thinking Dawnie might try to call home if she could get to a telephone, so I came over here.”

  “Of course I don’t mind,” Julie said. “That was a good idea, Rodney.”

  Sean swung the door wide, and Julie went into the house, leaving it open for the two men to enter behind her. The entire place smelled of chocolate. Sean sniffed and watched Julie’s reaction. She paused, inhaled, then went very still.

  “I baked some peanut butter chocolate chip cookies,” the old man explained. “Just to pass the time. Besides, they’re Dawnie’s favorites.”

  Julie didn’t move. She just stood there on her crutches, so stiff and so tense that Sean was afraid she might shatter.

  “We baked them together, last winter. Remember, Julie? Surprised you when you came home from work.”

  She nodded, the motion jerky. “When I smelled them, I thought maybe…she was here.”

  “Aw, dammit, Julie, I’m sorry.” Rodney pushed a palm across his thin, powder-white hair. “I didn’t mean…”

  She hel
d up a hand to stop him, tried to say something, then just gave up and, turning, thumped away from him.

  “I made things worse.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Sean said. “Honestly, nothing could make this worse for her. She’s been holding everything in all afternoon. It had to come out. It was inevitable.”

  The old man met Sean’s eyes, nodded. “You’re right. Still, I’m sorry.”

  Sean nodded.

  “Do they know anything about this Z character? Any reason he’d do this?”

  Sean pursed his lips, thought about playing it close to the vest, but decided against it. This old neighbor was close to Julie and Dawn. The nearest thing they had to family. It would harm nothing to tell him. “This stays between us for now, okay?”

  “Of course.”

  “Nathan Z is really Mordecai Young.”

  The old man’s eyebrows went up. “The Mordecai Young? I thought he died in that botched government raid, what, fifteen, sixteen years ago or so?”

  “So did everyone else. But he didn’t.” Sean drew a breath.

  “Well, I’ll be. And what would a lunatic cult leader want with our Dawnie?”

  Sean shook his head, unwilling to reveal that secret. It wasn’t his to tell.

  “Ah, hell, you’re right. Julie will tell me herself, when she’s able. Or ready. I should go,” the old man said, still shaking his head at Sean’s revelation. “Please, please let me know if you hear anything. Anything at all. Those two girls—” He glanced toward the stairs. “They’re like my own. They mean that much to me.”

  “I know the feeling, Mr. White.”

  The older man pinned Sean’s gaze with his pale blue one. “Now, I told you once, it’s Rodney to you, son. You’re practically family yourself.” He clapped Sean on the shoulder. “Take care of her. And don’t forget to let me know—”

  “I will. I promise. The second we hear anything.”