Wickedly Dangerous

by Deborah Blake

  The parents in the throng swarmed forward en masse and started yelling at Maya, Liam, and the Turners, more or less indiscriminately: “Where is my child?” “What did you do with my son?” A few threats floated out of the sea of faces like angry hornets.

  Liam handed Maya over to the closest deputy, stood on a chair, and said loudly, “Everyone shut the hell up!”

  As Clive Matthews’s mouth gaped open amid the suddenly quiet room, Liam added, “Please. We have a traumatized child and his parents here, and the last thing they need to deal with is all this shouting and confusion.” He dismounted and nodded at the Turners.

  “Okay, folks, here’s what we know so far,” he said, addressing the entire room. He clearly wasn’t going to be able to finish booking Maya or talking to the Turners until he gave everyone there some kind of basic rundown.

  “I caught Maya Freeman a little while ago, grabbing little Davy while he was outside chasing his dog. She hasn’t admitted to anything yet or told me where we can find the other children, but I assure you, those are only a few of the many questions she will be asked over the next couple of hours.”

  He looked at the distraught parents, huddled together with each other for moral support, like bean plants wrapped around corn stalks in a field. “As soon as I have any information on your children, I promise you I’ll let you know. For now, there is nothing useful you can do here, so I need you to go home, please, and let me do my job.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of black leather walking in the door and breathed a silent sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure how Baba being here would make any difference; he just knew he felt better now that she was.

  “This is an outrage!” Callahan stuttered. “I’m calling my attorney right this minute.”

  For a change, Clive Matthews seemed to be on Liam’s side. “Peter, if the sheriff caught her in the act, well, you know, the children did start disappearing right after she arrived . . . maybe she really is guilty.” He winced as one of his biggest campaign contributors shot him a dirty look and backpedaled rapidly. “Although, naturally, a lawyer is a good idea, no matter what.”

  Maya wrenched herself away from the deputy who’d been holding on to her arm—not very tightly, since she appeared so slight and harmless—and threw herself down at Callahan’s feet in a theatrical move guaranteed to draw all eyes.

  “Please, Peter, you can’t believe him! I’m innocent! I was passing by the Turners’ house and saw the sheriff’s car hidden halfway up a vacant driveway. When I spotted him hiding up in a tree, I went in closer to see what he was doing, and then,” she paused dramatically, “I looked through the fence and saw him climb down into the yard and grab poor little Davy!”

  There was a unified gasp from the gathered crowd, although Molly, and Nina behind her, just rolled their eyes and most of the deputies seemed unimpressed by her story.

  Callahan helped Maya up from the floor. “What happened then?”

  She fluttered her lashes, blinking back tears that only served to magnify the beauty of her stormy gray eyes. “I didn’t even think of my own safety, I just ran back there to try and stop him. I was going to yell for help, but he Tasered me, and threw me down into the mud! If Mrs. Turner hadn’t come out and seen us, I just don’t know what would have happened to me.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Liam said. He turned to Davy, getting down on one knee so he was the same height as the child, and speaking gently. “Honey, can you tell these people what happened to you? It’s okay, you’re safe now.”

  The little boy peered shyly out from behind his mother’s leg and shook his head. “I don’t ’member,” he whispered. “Trevor was being a bad dog and I had to go outside in the rain and get him, so Mommy wouldn’t yell.” His mother squeezed him even tighter, sobbing quietly. “I saw a shiny light in a puddle. And then Mommy was holding me and crying. I don’t ’member anything else.”

  Liam wasn’t surprised, although the boy’s lack of recollection might complicate things. Even a few seconds under the influence of whatever that ball of light was had scrambled his brains. He couldn’t imagine what it would do to a small boy at full force.

  “That’s okay, Davy,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. You did just fine.”

  He turned to Callahan, and said, “You are welcome to call Ms. Freeman a lawyer, but in the meanwhile, she’s going to sit in a cell where she belongs, and she is going to tell us what she did with those other children.”

  Baba’s grim face stared at Maya from a few feet away, making it clear that a cell was the safest place for her. Her arms were crossed over her chest as if to keep them from involuntarily reaching out and strangling the other woman.

  As Liam put out a hand to take Maya, lifting her up off the floor, she said plaintively, “It wasn’t me, I swear! It was him all along. He’s been stealing children and killing them, and now he’s using me as a scapegoat to take the blame. As sheriff, he’s got the perfect cover—pretending to search for the children he’s already murdered and looking for new victims along the way. No one would ever suspect him.” She paused, took a deep breath, and added, “What’s more, he killed his own child three years ago, and I can prove it!”

  * * *

  LIAM FELT AS though someone had slapped him, the blood draining from his face like water from a breached dike. His fingers tightened involuntarily around Maya’s wrist and she let out a gasp of pain that was only partly feigned.

  “That’s enough,” he said in a voice like sandpaper. “More than enough.” Out of long habit, he schooled his features into a mask that hid the anguish ripping through his heart, and marched her over to the nearest intake desk. With an efficient twist, he unlocked the manacle from one slender wrist and reattached it to the circle imbedded there for the purpose, placing her firmly in the seat facing the desk.

  “Watch her,” he said through gritted teeth to the deputy who had allowed her to slip away earlier. “As if your life depended on it. I will be right back. You can start on her fingerprints while you wait for me.”

  He turned back to talk to Peter Callahan, only to see the tall businessman disappearing out the door. On his way to go get a fancy lawyer, no doubt. Fine. Whatever.

  Clive Matthews was busy reassuring the parents of the missing children and his fellow board members that every measure would be taken to discover the location of the other victims. His smug and self-congratulatory air made it seem as though he personally had been responsible for the apprehension of the culprit, while at the same time snidely insinuating that if Liam had been a little more on the ball, they would have caught her long before this. It all made Liam sick.

  He swallowed bile as Baba came up and laid a gentle hand on his arm. Her touch seemed to send waves of comfort straight to his battered heart.

  “No one believed her,” Baba said. “They could see she was just trying to shift the blame to you. She’s a desperate woman, and desperate people will say anything to try to talk their way out of trouble.” Her amber eyes gazed at him with concern.

  He shrugged, as if Maya’s words—and the momentary doubt on the faces all around them—hadn’t stung like aftershave on a fresh cut. “I know. And at least we’ve got her. She won’t steal any more children, and that’s what matters. That, and getting her to tell us where she stashed the first three.” Across the room, he could see Belinda Shields and her parents, standing together by Belinda’s desk and glaring at Maya.

  Baba shook her head, long dark hair swinging. “She’s never going to tell you, Liam. And you can’t use the kind of tools it would take to get the information out of her. You have to let me take her to the Otherworld. Ten minutes with the queen, and Maya will be singing like a canary.” She gave a laugh without humor. “Hell, she might be a canary.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, no?” Baba asked, taking a step back. “We agreed; when we caught Maya, I would
take her back to the Otherworld. Otherwise the queen is going to have my head!”

  Even though they were already speaking in a relatively quiet tone, Liam lowered his voice even further. All he needed was for Clive Matthews to overhear him talking about some kind of fairyland. At the moment, he might have saved his job, but that would certainly lose it for him, arrest or no arrest.

  “I’ll let you talk to her in private, after these people have all gone home and things are calmer,” Liam said, thinking he was being perfectly reasonable. “I’ll even let you work whatever voodoo you want to get information, as long as there are no physical signs of it when you are done. But I can’t just allow you to take her out of here. Not only would I get fired as soon as it was discovered that she’d escaped, but people would start to wonder about her accusations. I could even end up facing an official inquiry. I’m sorry, Barbara, but she has to stay here.”

  Baba’s face became a frozen lake of cool disdain. “I see,” she said. “So your career is more important than the fact that the Otherworld is falling to pieces because that bitch you currently have chained to one of your desks has been overusing magical power through the door I haven’t been able to find,” she said, scorn dripping like acid. “And if I can’t find that door without removing her from this station, that’s just too bad?”

  Liam’s chest hurt, as if he couldn’t get enough air. “Barbara, I just can’t—”

  Before he could finish the sentence, there was a stir in the group nearest the door. Liam heard Molly said, “Oh my god!” and saw Nina’s face turn so white, she might have seen a ghost.

  Fearing that something had happened to Davy, Liam pushed his way through to the front, only to see a sight so unexpected, it made the room spin in dizzying circles for one insanely long moment as his brain tried to process the impossible. His pulse pounded in his ears and his heart raced, skipping a beat erratically in the process.

  Peter Callahan stood in the doorway, a triumphant sneer on his patrician face. Next to him, an ethereally lovely, very pale, rail-thin redhead in a demure white sundress looked at the neighbors she hadn’t seen in over two years. Her pointed chin was held high and delicate wisps of hair escaped her tidy bun to curl coyly around the heart-shaped face he used to love.

  “What’s the matter, Sheriff?” Callahan asked archly. “I thought for sure you’d be happy to see your wife.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  LIAM WAS A lot of things, but happy didn’t enter into it.

  After they’d buried Hannah’s tiny body in an obscenely small casket, nothing had been the same. Melissa blamed herself for the baby’s death, and in some irrational twist of a sorrowing brain, also blamed Liam for not being there. That he could understand, since he blamed himself.

  But what he couldn’t understand was how his once beautiful, caring wife had turned cold and remote, slicing him to the bone with every slantwise accusatory glance, shying away from his touch as though it burned like acid.

  He’d tried to comfort her—tried to have them comfort each other. But she’d found her comfort first in alcohol, then in drugs, and then in the arms of every man in town who would have her. There were many. So many, he eventually lost count. She’d wander the hills for hours, coming home late at night with twigs in her hair and empty wine bottles rattling around in the backseat of her car. People turned their heads away when they passed him on the street, not wanting him to see the pity in their eyes.

  He saw it anyway.

  And then, about a year after little Hannah’s death, Melissa simply disappeared. He awoke to an empty bed, and waited all the next day for her to stumble in, stoned or high or drunk, reeking of tawdry sex and some other man’s cologne. But she never came home. Not that night, nor any after.

  No one ever saw her again. A small circus had been in town that week; two shows a day in a tattered big top, with a few acrobats and a depressed-looking elephant. People started to say she’d run away with the circus, a clichéd joke that only a vicious few actually found amusing.

  But Liam figured it was probably true. She’d been saying for months that she couldn’t stand to be there, living in the haunting shadow of their once beloved daughter, mocked by the memories of happier days. Grief and drug use ate away at her soul and her body until only a thin wraith with dry, cracked lips and unwashed red hair remained in the place where beauty had once captured his attention from across a crowded high school lunchroom.

  After Melissa disappeared, Liam looked for her for six months straight, calling in favors with law enforcement across the state, checking on every report of an OD or a Jane Doe’s body that showed up in a hospital or morgue. He’d finally broken down and hired a private detective, but the man couldn’t turn up a trace—not even any evidence that she’d ever been seen with the circus after its last night in Dunville.

  Eventually, Liam had given up the search, almost relieved when he didn’t find her, and tortured by guilt because he was relieved. Life had become all about work and doing his best to save everyone else, because he couldn’t save the two people he had loved the most. Until lately, when it suddenly seemed like he couldn’t save anyone at all.

  He’d never expected to see Melissa again; he sure as hell hadn’t expected to see her under these circumstances, looking pale and almost as unhealthy as the day she’d left, although considerably cleaner and better put together, her fragile beauty shining through like the sun behind misty morning fog.

  And how the hell did she get involved with Maya and Peter Callahan?

  * * *

  BABA’S BODY WENT rigid with shock as she heard Callahan refer to the delicate redhead as Liam’s wife. She knew she should be paying attention to Maya, but all she could focus on was the word wife echoing in her ears. Liam had a wife. Not an ex-wife. A wife.

  It was little compensation that Liam seemed to be as stunned to see the woman as Baba was. His face was the color of the faintly green institutional walls behind him, and his large hands were balled up into fists. She could see the tension in the ropy muscles in his neck and shoulders, like the supple human flesh had been replaced by badly carved marble.

  Part of her wanted to go up and stand behind him, supporting him with a discreet touch. The other part of her wanted to kill him on the spot and bury his dead, dismembered body where no one would ever find it. Unsure of which impulse would win if she moved, she stood where she was and simply watched as his world fell apart.

  Liam’s mouth opened and closed, as if he was struggling to find the right words to say and discarding all the available options. In the end, he simply asked flatly, “What are you doing here, Melissa?”

  The redhead’s shoulders were tense too, and a flush darkened her pale cheeks. Whatever was going on here, this was no joyful reunion. The knowledge made Baba feel not one iota better. Her stomach clenched in anticipatory dread, shards of jagged glass churning at her core.

  “I heard about what happened,” Melissa said in a low voice that still managed to carry across the room. “I had to come.”

  The silence was deafening as everyone there turned to watch the unexpected drama. From where she stood, Baba could see Maya, seated at the deputy’s desk, leaning back with her shapely legs crossed and a faint satisfied smile on her face, as if she were watching a play from the comfort of a cushioned throne. Alarm bells went off in Baba’s head, but she felt helpless to do anything but watch with the others and see what happened. Whatever it was, if Maya was smiling her crocodile smile, Baba could be quite certain she wasn’t going to like it.

  “Heard about what?” Liam was asking, two parallel lines appearing between his brows. “And how? Where the hell have you been all this time, Melissa?” Frustration warred with concern in his voice. Like Baba, he could clearly sense a sizable and devastating shoe about to drop. Plus, of course, he was confronting his long-lost wife.

  Melissa shook her head sadly. “I didn’t go that far awa
y; just far enough to be safe, and to deal with my problems. And I’ve always kept tabs on what was going on here in Clearwater County.” She looked around the room at all the people she used to know, giving them each a private little smile, as if to say, I missed you the most.

  Nina could be heard to mutter an indelicate word under her breath, but others smiled back hesitantly, responding to the woman they’d known and liked before tragedy had changed her into a wild and pitiable stranger.

  “So why come back now?” Liam asked in a harsh voice. “Why now instead of anytime in the last two years?”

  “Because you gave me no choice,” Melissa said, wiping a tear away with one white, trembling hand. “I had to come forward, no matter how frightened I was, because I couldn’t live with myself if someone else was going to take the blame for what you’d done.”

  She smiled tremulously up at Peter Callahan, who put one arm protectively around her shoulders. Next to the tall man, Melissa looked tiny, vulnerable, and delicate, as if she might blow away with the smallest breeze.

  “I contacted Mr. Callahan because, as someone new to the area, he had no preexisting loyalties to you, Liam. And I thought he would be powerful enough to protect me.”

  Liam scowled and crossed his arms. “What on earth are you talking about, Melissa? Protect you from what? Are you still on drugs? Because if you are, we can get you to a treatment facility, but right now I’m in the middle of something that just can’t wait.”

  She blinked big green eyes at him, as if amazed he was pretending not to understand her. “Liam, I know what you’ve done. I kept telling myself it wasn’t you; that if it was, you’d stop on your own. I admit it—I was too big a coward to come forward before.”

  Melissa turned to Clive Matthews and those gathered around him, including a number of deputies in her glance. “Liam murdered our baby three years ago,” she said, spelling it out plainly. “And he said it was Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. I was afraid, so I covered for him, but the loss of my poor little Hannah, and the knowledge that the man I’d married had done such a thing, well, I’m ashamed to say it made me turn to alcohol and drugs.”