(Moon 2) - Edge of the Moon

by Rebecca York

  "Jesus, you don't have to remind me of that."

  Jack struggled to get control of his anger as he listened to Ross's explanation.

  "Yesterday, she wanted to go down and play at the creek, and I told her she had to stay up here. She was… upset about that. We've gone down there before, but I told her it wasn't a good idea this time, and that she needed to stay in the house unless Megan or I went out with her. I thought she was okay with that."

  He dragged in a breath. "Then, a few minutes ago, Craig came into our room to say that she was missing. We've torn the house apart. I was just going down to the creek to check."

  Jack closed his eyes, imagining it. Lily had promised she wouldn't get into trouble again. But now she was under a lot of stress. She'd lost her mother three years ago, and she was worried about her father. It seemed the combination was too much for her.

  "Maybe she's down at the creek," Ross was saying.

  "Yeah. Let's hope so. Unfortunately, I got a call from the killer. He says he's got her."

  "Jesus." Ross stayed on the line, and Jack could hear his friend breathing hard as he sprinted outside. There was the sound of an engine turning over, then tires squealing on gravel. He waited centuries for the car to skid to a halt again, then pictured the bridge across the creek and the shallow water running over rocks underneath.

  When he heard Ross curse, he felt his heart stop. "What! What is it?"

  "I smell him. He was here, all right."

  "Oh, Christ."

  "Jack, I'm so sorry."

  "I know. It's not your fault." He forced himself to say the words that must be said. "You told her to stay in the house, and she went out. She's… she's in a phase… where she makes her own decisions."

  "I should have kept better watch on her."

  "I should have told you that she hasn't exactly been a model of obedience lately, but I thought we'd worked it out. A few days ago, she and a friend were going to the other girl's house after school. They took a detour—and got into some trouble." While he spoke, he heard noises on the line and knew that Ross was already back in his SUV.

  "Jack, I don't think she's been gone long. I'll go out on the road. See if I can spot him. Do you know what he's driving?"

  "A Dodge SUV. He's going to call me back"—he looked at his watch—"in three minutes. I'll let you know what he says."

  "Okay."

  Kathryn had been standing stone still. Now she turned and wrapped him in her arms.

  "Oh, Jack. I'm so sorry."

  He let himself lean into her, laying his head against her shoulder, trying to hang on to the tattered shreds of his emotions.

  When the phone rang, he almost jumped out of his skin, then glanced at his watch. Not three minutes.

  He eased away from Kathryn, needing the space. Should he answer? What if it was Granger? If it was, he couldn't answer the call.

  He debated in an agony of indecision, then pressed the button. "Hello."

  "I see you talked to your friend."

  "What are you doing, monitoring my calls?" he asked, already knowing the answer to the question. The curse of the cell phone, he thought. But he hadn't figured the guy could get to him that way.

  "You can probably work out how I'm doing it. If you have the time. But I think you're going to be too busy."

  "I want my daughter back."

  "She would make a good sacrifice. Youth and innocence count for a lot."

  "No!"

  "The thought of my killing your little girl distresses you?"

  "You bastard!"

  "Keep a civil tongue in your head when you talk to me."

  Jack swallowed, struggled to stay calm and clearheaded—and to remember everything he knew about hostage negotiation. Not enough. "Okay," he answered.

  "I'll use your beautiful little daughter if I have to. But she's not the one I want. You can get her back."

  "How?"

  "By trading her for Kathryn Reynolds."

  A curse sprang to his lips. "No."

  "It's your decision. You know, like that movie Sophie's Choice. Um—didn't Sophie end up killing herself?" Gwynn continued in a silky voice. "I'll give you a few more minutes to think about it. Meanwhile, if you call the cops, I'll kill her. And if you call Ross Marshall back, I'll kill her for that."

  The phone went dead, and Jack was left listening to empty air, feeling like a wrecking ball had hit him in the chest. He struggled to catch his breath, struggled not to scream out his anger and his anguish.

  "What does he want?" Kathryn asked, her arm moving toward him, then falling back, as though she weren't sure what to do—how to help him.

  There was nobody who could help him now. He didn't want to tell her, but he understood that keeping silent was not an option. Slowly, he raised his eyes to hers. "He said he was willing to trade Lily for you."

  He saw the blood drain from her face, felt his own spirit shrivel. He had to drag in a breath before he could manage to say, "God, I can't lose her. And I can't lose you."

  "Oh, Jack." She moved swiftly then, reached for him, clung with a terrible strength. "It's all right. I can do it."

  He felt too numb to answer. Lord, had he heard her right? Without a moment's thought, she was volunteering to trade herself for Lily. A sound of anguish welled from deep inside him as he used his good arm to pull her closer. He wanted to tell her not to do it. But he couldn't say that. "Kathryn," he managed. "Why?"

  She drew back so she could meet his eyes. "Jack, I met her at the hospital. She's such a good kid. She doesn't deserve to be dragged into this."

  "She went out of the house when Ross told her to stay inside!"

  "I know, but she's just a little girl."

  "Oh, God, Kathryn, what am I going to do?"

  "Let me get her back for you."

  "She could already be dead," he said in a choked voice. "That would be just his style."

  "Don't think that way!"

  He could only stand there, despairing.

  "Jack, she can't fight him off. But I can."

  He found himself arguing with her when he still felt so numb that he knew his brain hadn't caught up with his mouth. "How? Nobody's fought him off. Heather is dead. Swinton is dead. And a bunch of others. We don't even know how many."

  She stroked her hands gently over his back. "Jack, I won't lie to you. I'm scared. But there is no alternative. Is there?"

  He fought the sick feeling threatening to surge up his throat. Defeated, he whispered, "No."

  "I know more than Heather. More than Swinton. We've been into this thing for days. And I… I was reading that book Ross gave us. It's got a lot of information."

  He pulled away from her. "Information! Christ, if this were about information, we'd have him in custody," he shouted. Then, more quietly he said, "I can't ask you to do it."

  "I know you can't. But I will."

  "God, no. I can't lose her—and I can't lose you," he said again, because it was the only thing he could say.

  "Which is why you can't be the one to make the decision. Jack, I love you," she whispered. "I wasn't going to say that. But I want to say it now. Maybe it sounds crazy, but I saw your family, and I loved them, too."

  Before he could answer, the phone rang again, and he felt dizzy. "Hello," he said.

  "What's your answer?" Gwynn said.

  "Kathryn is willing to come to you."

  "Excellent."

  "How do I know you'll keep your end of the bargain?"

  "You don't. You'll have to take my word for it."

  He bit back another oath.

  "We'll have an exchange. When I have Reynolds, I'll tell you where to find your beautiful little daughter. But don't make any calls."

  "All right."

  "Bring Reynolds to the old Caldwell farm. It's on Route 97. After Logan Road. When you're coming from the Frederick area, start looking for a mailbox with the number 9507. It's about a quarter-mile farther on. Then an eighth of a mile up a gravel lane to the farmhouse. Th
e front door is unlocked. Put Reynolds in the living room and leave. I want her tied up, by the way. You'll find rope there. Leave as soon as you drop her off—and start driving toward Damascus. After I have Reynolds, I'll tell you where Lily is. And remember, no phone calls—or I kill the kid. You have all that?"

  "Yes."

  "Repeat it back to me," Gwynn ordered.

  In a low, gritty voice Jack repeated the instructions, watching Kathryn. She looked so beautiful. So calm. Yet he saw the tightness around her eyes.

  "Leave Charles Town right away."

  "You know we're in Charles Town?"

  Gwynn laughed. "I know everything. That's why I always get what I want."

  The phone went dead, and Jack was left feeling as though he'd stepped into a frozen arctic wasteland, the cold wind burning his skin to the bone.

  He saw Kathryn watching him.

  "We have to go," she said.

  He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, fighting not to scream. He felt her cross to him, felt her brush her lips against his. He pulled her close, crushing her mouth to his, devouring her, drinking in the taste of her.

  She was the one who pulled away first. Crossing to the luggage, she opened her bag and took out the magic wand.

  "If you take that with you, he'll find it."

  "I'm giving it to you."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know. I think you'll need it." She held the wand toward him.

  He took the other end, and for a moment they stood there, each holding one end of the hard plastic. It should feel cool, but somehow heat seemed to pulse in the depths of the blue liquid.

  He felt like he was in one of their dreams as he shoved his gun into his waistband, then left the cabin and walked toward the car.

  Dark clouds had gathered in the sky, the gloom hanging over him like a shroud.

  When Kathryn started to climb into the driver's seat, as she'd been doing since he'd left the hospital, he stopped her. "No. I'd better drive."

  "Why?"

  "Because I have to drive away from the damn farmhouse. I'd better start doing it now. Thank God you've got an automatic."

  He was grateful that he had something to focus on. After dropping the wand on the seat beside his hip, he leaned forward, shifting into reverse with his left hand, then let go and turned the wheel, thinking he'd better be careful and not crash the car.

  Then he pulled around and down the narrow lane that led to the highway.

  Kathryn was sitting beside him, her hands folded in her lap.

  "I love you," he said. "I never thought I'd say that to any woman again."

  She turned toward him, her eyes shimmering with tears. "Thank you for telling me that. I know it makes this harder for you."

  His voice was steel as he said, "I'll get you out of this. I promise."

  "I know."

  "Did you see The Last of the Mohicans?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you remember what he said to her when he had to let the Indians take her captive? He said, 'Stay alive. Stay alive, and I will find you.' "

  "Yes."

  "Do it!"

  "I will."

  "I'll beat the crap out of you if you don't," he said, knowing he was speaking nonsense.

  She laughed, moved closer, and laid her head on his shoulder.

  "There's stuff I want to tell you. Stuff I'm thinking about how I'm going to get you back. But I can't tell you any of it. If I do, he might get it out of you."

  "I understand." Closing her eyes, she murmured, "Let's talk about something else. Tell me what I have to look forward to."

  He swallowed hard. "Will you marry me?"

  "Oh, yes."

  "You're not afraid to be a stepmother?"

  "I'll have Mrs. Anderson to help me—if she lets me in the house."

  "Oh, she will!"

  She nodded against his shoulder. Then whispered,

  "Well, since I've got you in the position where you can't say no to me, tell me we can have a baby together. You have two wonderful kids. I want one of your children."

  "Wonderful! A couple years ago it was Craig who was acting out. Now it's Lily. I want to strangle her," he grated, his hand clamping on the wheel as he struggled to keep his anger from breaking through.

  "Just hug her when you get her back. Hug her for me."

  He nodded, because he knew if he tried to speak, he would start to sob.

  He wanted to scream. He wanted to drive the car into a tree so he wouldn't have to drive to that farmhouse. Then the choice would be taken away from him. Instead, he kept the vehicle pointed toward the cliff at the end of the world, while they kept talking about the future—each clinging to what hope the other could give.

  All too soon, he was turning onto the rutted drive. He kept hoping against hope that the farmhouse wouldn't be there. But it was where Gwynn had said it would be.

  SIMON watched them from the dark shadows of the woods, his excitement growing to almost overwhelming proportions. They were here! He hadn't been absolutely sure they would show up. But they were here, and he had won. In a little while, he would go get the woman, and then he would complete the ceremony.

  He'd thought about whether he was going to give back the little girl. He'd decided to do it for now. She'd keep Thornton busy.

  Later, when he had the demon in his power, he would finish off Thornton—and his family.

  But not yet.

  He watched them get out of the car, watched their jerky movements. They were scared. Good.

  He stayed where he was, watching from a distance.

  He wasn't going to take a chance on Thornton pulling something tricky. He'd acted like a man who knew he was defeated, but his cop instincts could still kick in.

  So Simon would wait until Thornton left, then wait twenty more minutes before going down to the house to get the woman.

  Still, it was hard to stay where he was. Hard to contain his excitement.

  STIFFLY, Jack got out of the car, the magic wand stuffed into one side of his waistband and the gun into the other. His footsteps rang hollowly as he climbed the sagging wooden steps, vividly aware of Kathryn right behind him.

  The door opened, and he stepped into a bare room, then cursed.

  "What?"

  "I should have brought a blanket for you to sit on."

  "I'm sure I won't be here long."

  She looked at the rope lying on the floor. "He wants you to tie me up."

  "Yes."

  Her face blank, she sat down, took the cord, and used it to tie her ankles. He was hardly able to watch her, hardly able to believe she was preparing herself for her own kidnapping. Then they both worked at tying her hands, since the sling would have made the maneuver impossible for him to do it alone.

  When he was finished, he could barely breathe as he stared at the bonds. He reached toward her, but she shook her head.

  "You have to go," she whispered. "You have to go to Lily."

  "Oh, God, Kathryn. I will get you back."

  "I know."

  He prayed he wasn't lying. Quickly he kissed her and walked out of the room, because if he didn't do it quickly, he would never do it.

  The tears in his eyes made it almost impossible to see as he staggered outside. It had started to rain, the cold drops pelting him as he walked woodenly to the car and lurched it down the road. It took several moments before he realized he'd forgotten to turn on the windshield wipers.

  He switched them on, and the windshield cleared, but his vision was still blurred by tears as he drove toward Damascus—his heart pounding as he waited for the phone to ring.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  « ^ »

  HE SCREAMED CURSES he would never have used in front of Kathryn, pounded his good hand against the steering wheel. Cursed the bastard who had put him into the fires of hell.

  He didn't know what made him pull the magic wand from the waistband of his jeans.

  As soon as his hand closed around it, it felt burning hot. He
held it up, looking at the swirl of blue and the flecks of shiny stars and moons. The damn thing looked as cool as it ever had. But it felt like a white-hot poker.

  He shoved it into the sling so it rested along his arm, grasping the hard plastic with his right hand.

  Then he started driving through the rain again, the burning wand giving him a strange kind of comfort.

  He came to a crossroad, sped past, then gasped as the rod turned from furnace to ice in his hand.

  "Jesus!"

  When he screeched to a stop on the wet pavement, it warmed again. When he made a U-turn, the temperature increased. It grew even hotter when he turned right on the crossroad.

  His heart leaped into his throat. Daring to give himself a sliver of hope, he kept driving through the pounding rain, braking again when the rod turned freezer cold.

  It was telling him which way to go. He knew that in his gut. Like the child's game. "You're getting warmer." Only this was no game.

  "You're showing me where to find Lily?"

  There was no answer—just the burning plastic against his hand.

  He hadn't thought beyond Gwynn's phone call. Now he knew there was something else he could do. Turning in at a gas station, he leaped out and fumbled the correct change into a pay phone, rain pelting his back as he called Ross.

  "Where the hell have you been?" his friend demanded.

  "Gwynn told me he'd kill Lily if I called anybody. I figured he's got a line on the cell phone. I hope to God he's not using magic to monitor every pay phone in the area. I'm at a gas station on Woodfield Road." Quickly he told his friend what had happened. "The magic wand is leading me to Lily. Meet me out here. When I know she's safe, I'll go back for Kathryn. He won't be expecting me back so soon. He thinks I'm going to be driving miles out of my way. But I'm close to her. Very close."

  "I'm on my way. I called Granger. Where's Kathryn?"

  Jack gave the address. "For God's sake, tell him to be careful."

  "He understands."

  Jack splashed back to the car, then sped down the road again, his tires throwing up curtains of water as he let the hot and cold temperature of the wand guide him. To his daughter—he hoped.

  While he drove, he muttered out loud. Talking to the demon, he supposed. "You bastard, what do you want from me?"