For the Right Reasons

by Kara Lennox

“MacKenzie loves animals,” Eric said. “The kidnapper could have used a puppy to gain MacKenzie’s trust. She tends to drop her defenses around puppies and kittens.”

  “If we’re right, then we must be on the right track. She’s got to be around here somewhere.”

  Eric used the walkie-talkie to tell the others about finding the dog.

  “We’ll head that way,” Kinkaid said. “You two stay on your toes and be extra careful. I don’t want anyone hurt at this late date.”

  As if Eric wouldn’t be alert in this situation. But cautious? If he spotted MacKenzie—when he spotted MacKenzie—he might throw caution to the wind. He tried to keep that in mind as he continued to scan the woods left to right, left to right, for any sign of his daughter.

  Finally he did see something. Movement. It was no animal this time; that was a human being coming toward them. An adult-size person. And he carried a large bundle in his arms.

  Eric reached for Bree’s hand just as she did the same.

  “Is that...?” The question died on her lips. Yes, it was. Sheriff Bobby DeVille walked right toward them holding MacKenzie, who looked to be unconscious—or worse.

  Eric suddenly understood the concept of “seeing red.” Heat rose in his body from somewhere deep inside him, filling him with a burning rage that threatened to erupt into violence. His hand went to the gun in his pocket.

  “Eric, no,” Bree said under her breath. “I can see both of his hands, and he’s not holding a weapon.”

  “Hey,” the sheriff called as they got closer. “I’ve got a medical emergency here. Either of you have a cell phone?”

  To hell with caution. Eric rushed forward, arms outstretched, ready to take the child from him by force if necessary. “What happened? What’s wrong with her?”

  “Oh, it’s you.” DeVille sounded surprised. “This is your girl? She looked familiar. I saw her just that one time at the café that night.” He handed MacKenzie to her father without any prompting. “I think she’s suffering from hypothermia. She’s wet, and her skin is cold. We need to get her warmed up and get an ambulance right away— Oh, hell, Bree, you’re the doctor here. I’m sure you know what to do. Did she get lost, wander away or something?”

  Bree and Eric exchanged a confused look. Was the sheriff actually trying to pretend he’d just stumbled across MacKenzie, just now, by accident? What a load of crap!

  Bree had somehow gotten the walkie-talkie in her hand and was speaking into it. “We got her. She’s alive but unconscious. I don’t know the extent of her injuries yet but she needs an ambulance. Life Flight if you have to.”

  Now that Eric had MacKenzie in his arms, he was loath to let go of her. But he couldn’t just leave her kidnapper standing there, free to pull a weapon or run. He kissed MacKenzie on the cheek. Her skin was cold on his lips. Then he handed her to Bree, who immediately laid her out on the ground and started to examine her.

  “Do you need me to support her head, keep her off the ground or something?” the sheriff asked anxiously. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t call for help right away but I didn’t bring my phone with me when I took off hiking. Stupid.”

  “Sorry, my ass.” Eric hauled off and punched DeVille in the face, putting every ounce of anxiety he’d felt for the past few hours into the blow.

  DeVille staggered back. “What the hell?”

  Eric didn’t stop there. DeVille was bigger than Eric by a good thirty pounds, but he didn’t have rage on his side. Eric head-butted him, knocking him to the ground. While the sheriff was still stunned, Eric rolled him over onto his stomach and sat on him.

  “You might as well give it up, DeVille. Everybody knows you’re the one who took her. And it seems pretty obvious you killed Philomene, too, and probably a whole slew of other women.”

  “Have you gone crazy?” DeVille screamed once he found his voice again. “You just assaulted a cop. I’ll have your license for this, and you’ll do jail time, too.”

  “Just shut up. I have a gun, and if you start acting like a threat to me or Bree or MacKenzie, I won’t hesitate to use it.”

  Bree ignored the testosterone-fest and focused on her patient. She peeled off her jacket and laid it over MacKenzie’s incredibly small, still form. “We need to get her warm. Give me your jacket, Eric.”

  He complied immediately, though he first removed the gun from his pocket and transferred it to the small of his back. He was grateful that the sheriff had decided not to fight him. He hoped to hell one of his coworkers had handcuffs—and where the hell were they, anyway? He twisted around to look behind him, relieved to see movement through the trees. The cavalry was on its way.

  Celeste, spry as a deer making her way through brush and over logs, reached them first. “Got something you want me to take off your hands?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a zip tie.

  “All yours, Celeste.”

  The elderly woman cuffed DeVille and flipped him over. “Damn, Eric, what did you do to him?”

  “Punched him out like he was in an Old West fistfight,” Bree said as she gathered MacKenzie into her arms again. “Is an ambulance on the way? There’s only so much I can do without the proper equipment, but we really need to get her someplace warm.”

  Kinkaid joined them, followed shortly by the others.

  One of the Project Justice guys had a reflecting space blanket with him. “Here, let’s get her wrapped in this. Then I’ll run her up to the house, turn on the heat and get her under some blankets.”

  “I’ll take her,” Eric said. He needed to hold her. Maybe he could transfer some of his life force to her just from the sheer power of his love. She was so tiny, hardly weighed anything.

  Bree walked ahead of him, clearing a path and holding back branches, helping him balance when he had to negotiate uneven ground. The puppy trotted along with them.

  It didn’t take them long to get back to the sheriff’s house. They left the neighbor’s house alone, since it was the more obvious crime scene.

  Once they got her onto the sofa, Bree checked her over more thoroughly. Paramedics were en route, but they were miles away.

  Out the window, Eric saw them put the sheriff in the backseat of an SUV. He was yammering away to Kinkaid, who didn’t appear to be listening very hard.

  Jillian joined Eric at the window. “Daniel is going to fire us all when he finds out how this went down. You were not supposed to be the ones to confront the kidnapper.”

  * * *

  BREE SAT IN the corridor at the East Texas Health Systems Medical Center, nursing a cup of coffee and trying to hear what was going on inside the treatment room.

  She’d been banished. The E.R. doctor in charge here had said she was too close to the situation and that she was interfering. She supposed she didn’t blame the guy; she would do the same thing if some strange doctor showed up in her E.R. shouting orders.

  It still rankled.

  “Bree?”

  Bree’s head snapped up. “Oh, Ted. What are you doing here?”

  “I came when I heard. I mean, I just feel terrible. Bobby DeVille? The guy is a friend. How could I have not known? How could I have not seen it? Surely I must have missed something, some small piece of evidence....”

  “He fooled a lot of people. I guess some criminals are pretty good at compartmentalizing. And as far as not being able to find evidence, what better person to cover up his own crime than a cop? He would know exactly how his crime-scene investigators processed a scene and make sure there would be nothing for them to find.”

  Ted pulled his baseball cap lower on his forehead. “Yeah. How is the little girl doing?”

  “MacKenzie is holding her own. Her vital signs are strong, and her body temperature has returned almost to normal. Everyone seems to think there’s a good chance she’ll make a full recovery. But she hasn’
t regained consciousness.”

  “And how about you? How are you holding up?”

  “Feeling a bit like a criminal rather than a hero,” she admitted. “The Hollings County sheriff took statements from all of the Project Justice people and me. He’s not particularly happy with the fact we went ‘all vigilante’ on him, but he’s not a stupid man. He recognized right away that if they’d done things his way, MacKenzie probably would not be alive right now. I think that’s the only thing that stopped him from arresting the whole bunch of us. He could have filed charges if he’d wanted to. Trespassing, assault—Eric bruised up DeVille’s face pretty good.”

  “Eric’s a brave man. I tell you, I wouldn’t go toe to toe with that man.”

  “You might if it was your daughter’s life at stake.” Bree sighed. “Ted, what do we do if he ducks the kidnapping charge? He might press for those assault charges against Eric himself. Unfortunately, we don’t have a slam-dunk case against him. DeVille has repeatedly insisted he rescued MacKenzie. He says he came out to his vacation house for a couple of days of R & R, he went for a hike and he stumbled across MacKenzie lying on the ground near the creek that ran through the woods.

  “Since the crime scene isn’t in his house but the one next door, his story is plausible. Not to me, but we don’t have any proof.”

  “Surely the police will find evidence at the crime scene that points to Bobby,” Ted said. “His prints must be all over that house.”

  “Maybe, unless he wore gloves. Of course, once MacKenzie wakes up, she’ll be able to identify the man who grabbed her. But she’s only six years old. Will she be a credible witness?”

  “Hey, any kid old enough to talk can be a good witness. She’ll be fine.” Ted patted Bree on the arm.

  Bree struggled not to make it obvious that she didn’t like him touching her. It was a perfectly innocent gesture, but she hadn’t forgotten his botched attempt at seduction when they were in med school.

  The door to MacKenzie’s room opened and Eric stepped outside, grinning.

  “Good news?” Bree asked.

  “She woke up, and she’s talking. She’s still groggy, but I think she’ll be fine. They’re taking her to X-ray right now. She might have a broken ankle.”

  “I told them to check out that ankle an hour ago,” Bree said, exasperated. She didn’t think it was broken, just sprained, but an X-ray would tell them for sure.

  “Is there anything I can do?” Ted asked.

  Bree had almost forgotten he was there.

  “Oh, hi, Dr. Gentry,” Eric said. The two men shook hands.

  “I was just asking if there’s anything I can do. Do you all have a car? I could give you a ride so you’re not stranded.”

  “You know, that’s a good idea,” Eric said. “I need to stay here with MacKenzie—I’m not letting her out of my sight. But, Bree, you could go to my house, wash up, grab something to eat, get MacKenzie and me some clean clothes and drive my car back here. When they release her, she’ll like having her own clothes and riding home in her own car. She’s had to contend with a lot of new and strange things today.”

  “I would be happy to do that, if Ted doesn’t mind.”

  “Not at all. I told you I wanted to help.”

  “Then I’ll see you in a couple of hours.” The hospital was only about an hour outside of Houston.

  They hesitated for half a second, then Eric leaned in and kissed her, then pulled her into a hug so he could whisper in her ear. “Thank you for everything, Bree. I’m not sure I could have gotten through this without you. I love you.”

  Really? Here, and now? But she grinned. “I love you, too.” The conclusion was inescapable. “Once we get MacKenzie home, we’ll talk.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “C’MON, SWEETHEART, TAKE another bite of Jell-O.”

  MacKenzie obediently opened her mouth, and Eric shoveled another spoonful inside.

  “Are you feeling better?” Eric was worried. The doctor had said it was highly unlikely MacKenzie would suffer any lasting physical effects from her ordeal. But psychologically, Eric wasn’t so sure. “Does your ankle hurt?” he asked when she remained silent.

  MacKenzie shrugged. “It’s okay.”

  “Do you want to talk about what happened?” He didn’t want to push her if she wasn’t ready, but he sensed something was weighing on her. She’d had a brief psychiatric evaluation; the doctor had felt strongly that MacKenzie hadn’t been sexually abused while in the hands of the kidnapper. Her physical examination—most of which had occurred while she was blessedly unconscious—had borne out that opinion. She had a few bruises and the sprained ankle—that was it.

  MacKenzie looked up at him, her face filled with indecision.

  “Honey, you know you can tell me anything. I promise I won’t get angry. You are an amazing girl and I’m so proud of how brave you’ve been.”

  Her lower lip trembled. “It’s my fault.”

  “What? What’s your fault?”

  “You told me not to talk to strangers. You told me not to pet a stranger’s dog.”

  “Oh, honey, it’s okay. I give you a million rules to follow and I know sometimes you can’t remember all of them.” Jeez, the last thing he wanted was for his daughter to feel guilty for her part. “I have rules to follow, too, and sometimes I don’t remember all of them. Like when we finally found you, I got so excited I hit the man who kidnapped you. Hitting people is wrong, but for a moment I forgot.”

  She pondered that for a moment. “Like I got excited when I saw the puppy.”

  “That’s exactly right. Everybody makes mistakes, but you have to be able to forgive yourself. It’s part of being human. We all try our best, and sometimes we goof up. That doesn’t mean it was your fault. The sheriff is a very bad man. He is the one who did something wrong, not you. You were brave and so smart! I still don’t know how you managed to call me.”

  Soon enough MacKenzie was going to have to tell what happened to the Hollings County sheriff if they wanted to make kidnapping charges stick.

  “He left his phone sitting on the counter, and I took it,” she said, as if it were no big deal. “But then I dropped it.”

  Maybe that explained the abrupt end to their conversation.

  Someone tapped softly on the door, and a uniformed woman stepped inside carrying a folder. “Hi, mind if I come in?” she asked, all friendly and smiling. “I’m Deputy Meeks with Hollings County. I wonder if MacKenzie is feeling well enough to talk to me.”

  “How about it, MacKenzie?” Eric asked. “Do you want to tell the deputy what happened so we can keep the bad man in jail?

  MacKenzie nodded.

  The deputy pulled a chair up close to the bed. She was probably in her late thirties, plump and maternal looking. The Hollings County sheriff had probably sent her because she would be less threatening than a man would be, and she seemed comfortable with children.

  “Sounds like you’ve had a very busy day,” the deputy began. “Can you tell me what happened? Start with this morning.”

  “Daddy had a flat tire. I went outside to play.”

  “I think someone deliberately flattened my tire,” Eric interjected, “maybe to disrupt our morning routine and distract me.”

  “Okay.” The deputy took some discreet notes in a pad on her lap. “Then what, MacKenzie?”

  “Then I was playing, and I saw a white puppy.” She looked at Eric. “Daddy, what happened to the puppy? Is he okay? The bad man was real mean to him.”

  “The puppy is fine,” Eric answered, though he had no idea what had happened to it after he had taken MacKenzie up to the house. Hopefully, it hadn’t just been left in the woods to fend for itself.

  “Can I keep him?” she asked hopefully.

  “We’ll see.” He didn’t want
to promise her that particular puppy, in case he couldn’t locate it or it belonged to someone else. “You answer all of Deputy Meeks’s questions, and we’ll talk about getting you a pet. For real.”

  She grinned, and a light came back into her eyes that had been missing. Suddenly she became the most cooperative little witness ever. She told her story from beginning to end in a very coherent fashion—much better than most adults would have done. Eric bit his tongue to keep himself from interrupting. This was the first time he’d heard the story, and every revelation astounded him anew. She’d been tied up with bungee cords and duct tape, and she’d somehow managed to get loose. Though she must have been terrified, she managed to rescue the puppy, too, and escape with it, running through the woods.

  And when she was about to be recaptured, she had climbed a tree. Then, when the man was about to pull her out of the tree, a branch had broken and they’d both fallen. That was how MacKenzie had sustained the sprained ankle. It was a miracle she hadn’t been killed.

  “When the man fell, was he hurt?” Meeks asked.

  MacKenzie nodded. “He was just lying on the ground like he was asleep, and he had blood coming from his head.”

  Meeks and Eric exchanged a look. Eric didn’t recall seeing any such injuries on Sheriff DeVille. But a cut could have been hidden under his hair, and he might have washed off the blood in the creek.

  “So then what?” Meeks asked.

  “I tried to run again but my foot hurted a lot. And there was a little river and I was real thirsty and I thought I would drink some water, but I slipped and fell in the water.”

  “I bet that was cold.”

  “It was real cold,” MacKenzie agreed.

  “Then what happened?”

  MacKenzie screwed up her face and thought hard. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “I think that’s when I fell asleep.”

  “What’s the next thing you remember?” Meeks prompted.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay. I just have one more question to ask, and then I’ll let you get some rest. I’m going to show you pictures of six different men. I want you to look very carefully and tell me if any of them is the bad man.