“Claire?”
She sniffed. “Yeah?”
“I won’t let you down,” he said softly. “I swear it.”
Nodding to the phone, she ended the call, and wiped the tears from her eyes. Just as she sat on the bed, her phone chimed again.
“Yes, Taylor?” she rushed. “Was there something else?”
“Sorry, honey. It’s not your boyfriend.”
Adam.
For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. I know all about you, you son of a bitch! probably wouldn’t get her far. Was he aware she knew who he was, what he’d done?
Swallowing, she took a moment to settle her nerves.
“Adam,” she said slowly. “Aunt Sadie is missing. Do you know anything about it?”
There was silence for a moment. “Why would I know anything about your aunt?”
“Well, you wouldn’t, but it’s a fairly small town. I thought maybe you might have seen her.”
There was silence for a moment, then, “Maybe I have.”
Her stomach tightened and she placed her palm at her waist. “What do you mean?”
“I want to see you.” It was a statement of fact, not a request.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible right now. Like I said, Aunt Sadie—”
“Claire,” he growled. “I want to see you, and I will. I am a little miffed at you, though. Why didn’t you tell me your handyman friend was a detective?”
“H-how did you—”
“Let’s just say a little bird told me.”
Okay, find out what he’s up to, and call Taylor.
“All right, Adam. I’ll meet you. Where are you?”
“Nice try,” he said. “Now, here’s what you’re going to do. The cruiser that’s been circling the wagons all day isn’t due back for another twenty minutes. You’re going to walk out the back door, up the driveway, and onto the main road. When you get there, start walking toward town. I’ll pick you up.”
“No. That’s no good. Aunt Sadie might come back, and I need to be—”
“Aunt Sadie isn’t coming back, Claire,” he bit out. “But you will meet me, and you will do it now, and here’s why.”
Claire heard movement, a rustling sound, then Adam’s voice again. “Say hello to your friend.”
She listened as a heartbreakingly familiar voice panted, “Don’t do it, Claire . . . Stay away . . . Call Soldier. He’ll know—”
The woman’s words were cut off by what sounded like a slap.
“Betsy!” she screamed, clutching the phone in a hand suddenly gone sweaty. “No! Betsy! Are you all right? Betsy!”
Cold chills ran down her spine and her brain ceased to function. Her eyes filled with angry tears. She felt her jaw tighten, her fingers curl into tight fists.
“She’s fine,” Adam drawled. “For the time being. You know, for a small town, there sure are a lot of cops named McKennitt, and as luck would have it, one of them has a very pregnant wife.”
“No!” she sobbed. “You can’t! Let her go! I’ll do what you want. I’ll do whatever you want. Please—”
“Yes,” he snapped. “You will do whatever I want.”
Pausing for a moment, he said evenly, “If I don’t see your fine little ass up on that road in the next three minutes, your friend dies. And you know what else? It’ll be very slow and very painful.”
“Adam,” she begged in as calm a voice as she could muster. “Adam. Don’t do this. Please Adam don’t . . .”
But the line had already gone quiet. She stared down at her watch, then at her dressing table. She had two minutes left.
Chapter 20
Smuggler
Self-righteous sneak thief.
Taking off at a dead run, Claire was down the stairs and into the kitchen in five seconds. Her fingers shook so hard, she had trouble throwing the lock on the back door. Finally, it clicked and she flung it open, holding her cell phone in front of her so she could see the display, but before she could hit the speed dial for Taylor’s number, the phone chimed.
“Taylor?” she panted as she raced across the barnyard.
“It occurs to me,” Adam said, “that you are one of those rare women who can walk and talk at the same time, so I am going to occupy your cell phone until I pick you up. That way, you can’t alert anybody.”
Damn! “ ’Kay,” she choked as she tore up the driveway. It wasn’t a steep incline, but she’d never tried running up loose gravel in sandals before.
She checked her watch. Fifteen minutes and the cruiser would come by. Could she stall Adam that long?
But he knew about the drive-bys. He’d timed his plan to avoid them. She was on her own.
Taylor. If you’re psychic at all, hear me, hear me, hear me! I need help. Please, God, hear me!
By the time she reached the end of the drive, she was out of breath. The cell phone to her ear, she turned right and began walking toward town. How long until Adam got there?
As though he read her thoughts, he said, “I’ll pull up next to you. Get in without making a fuss, and I might let your friend breathe another five minutes.”
She heard the car behind her now, but no headlights flared. He must have turned them off, making him nearly invisible in the night. When he reached her, he slowed to a crawl, and she glanced warily to her left.
It wasn’t the Mercedes. It was a black Excursion, and even in the dark, she could see it had a dented front bumper.
Too many thoughts to sort out collided in her skull as she reached for the door and opened it.
Adam sat behind the wheel, his expression unreadable in the shadows.
“Fancy running into you,” he chided. “Get in.”
“Where’s Betsy?” she huffed, still trying to catch her breath.
With a tilt of his head, he said, “In the back. She was tired, so she’s taking a little rest.”
Claire climbed into the passenger seat. “You didn’t hurt her. If you hurt her, I’ll—”
“What will you? Close the goddamn door,” he snarled. Darkness and light played over his handsome features, suddenly gone cruel. The moment the door slammed closed, he flipped on the headlights and accelerated, jerking Claire back in the seat.
“What will you do?” he bit out. “All the good cards are in my hand.”
Claire twisted as much as she could and looked over at the bench seat behind her to where Betsy lay, her hands and feet bound. Her eyes were closed.
“What did you give her?”
“She’s got quite a mouth on her,” Adam said dryly. “I’m sure her husband will thank me for shutting her up for a while.”
“She’s pregnant!” Claire snapped. “What did you give her, you son of a bitch?”
“Really, Claire,” he said solemnly. “Play nice. I don’t have to keep her alive, you know.”
Choking down her anger, she said, “Why Betsy?”
He lifted his shoulder in a slight shrug. “You’d mentioned her a couple of times. It was obvious to me you have deep feelings for her. She’s important to you, which makes her very convenient for my purposes.”
“You can’t truss her up like that. Untie her—”
“Shut up!” Adam yelled. Pressing a button on his side of the car, as though he were speaking to a child, he said, “Childproof locks, Dr. Claire. Ain’t modern technology great? Now, shut the fuck up until I tell you to speak, or all the rules go away, and so does your best friend.”
“What!” His cell phone to his ear, Taylor was out the station door and halfway to his truck before Winslow finished speaking, Soldier hard on his heels.
“I’m at the farm,” Winslow said, alarm clear to hear in his voice. “She’s gone. Kitchen door’s wide open. She left a message on the dresser mirror. It’s in lipstick or something.”
“What does it say?” Taylor shouted as he slammed the key into the ignition.
“Kinda hard to read, but it looks like it says Adam and then Betsy.”
Taylor shot a look at his b
rother next to him, just fastening his seat belt. Holy shit. “Uh, copy. Anything else?”
“I’ve done a perimeter check of the property,” Winslow said. “Her car’s here. She either walked away, or somebody picked her up.”
How long had she been gone? How much of a head start did LeRoy have?
“Jackson,” Taylor said. “Call home.”
Soldier looked his way, then frowned when he gazed into Taylor’s eyes. “What? Why?”
Reaching across the seat, Taylor gripped his brother’s forearm. “I’m sorry,” he said. When Soldier’s brow creased in confusion, Taylor delivered the blow. “I’m . . . It’s LeRoy. I think he . . . has Betsy.”
As long as he lived, no matter what wretchedness his work would force him to witness, nothing could ever hold the power to wound him, break his heart like the look he saw in his brother’s eyes the moment Soldier realized the woman he loved . . . was gone.
Until, that is, Taylor gazed into the rearview mirror, and into his own empty eyes.
As the miles fell away, Claire tried to concentrate, form some kind of plan that would get her and Betsy out of this mess.
Did Adam plan on killing them? And what about Aunt Sadie? Why wasn’t she in the car? Had Adam already k— No. No. It wasn’t possible. She would not, could not go there.
A chill made its way down her spine, cooling her blood, and despite the warmth of the night, she shivered.
She realized she couldn’t assume anything at this point. Even if she could somehow overpower Adam, unless she rendered him unconscious and took control of the car, her chances of getting the unconscious Betsy away safely were zero.
She’d wait, look for her chance, then go for it. He had to make a mistake. She was strong and smart. There was a way out of this. She’d find it.
And if he hurt Betsy or the baby in any way, she’d have the bastard’s liver for breakfast.
Thanks to the lighted display on the dashboard, Claire watched the clock, monitoring how long they’d been on the road. Forty minutes and counting. Adam had kept up a steady speed of about forty-five miles per hour. Not fast enough to snare the attention of the cops, but certainly fast enough to get out of town and into the countryside where there were fewer houses and cars.
She did the calculation in her head. Forty-five miles per hour in forty minutes. That meant they’d traveled about thirty miles. Even though it was dark, they’d headed out of town on an unfamiliar road in a southwesterly direction. If he kept going, they’d run into the Olympic National Forest. Where in the hell was he taking them?
Then she remembered what Aunt Sadie had said about the place out in the country.
Her eyes on what she could see of the road ahead, she said softly, “The police know all about your activities, Adam. Kidnapping Betsy and me won’t do you any good.”
“Sure it will,” he said. “I have a big fat ton of money now, and more coming in all the time. And you’re going to marry me. Then we’re going to head on down to Portland, and get my kids back.”
“Adam. Didn’t you hear me? The police know about the harvesting. They—”
“I don’t care.” He chuckled.
She stared at him. “Your arrogance is eclipsed only by your stupidity.”
He shrugged. “Sticks and stone, Claire. Sticks and stones.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll marry you. I’ll do it right now. Drop Betsy off at the nearest—”
He burst out laughing as though she’d just told him a hilarious joke. “No way. First we get married, then I release your friend.”
Shaking her head, she whispered, “Adam, you can’t possibly think marrying me will get your kids back. I’m sorry about your situation, but this isn’t going to solve anything.”
He kept his eyes on the road, but lowered his head like a ram about to butt a wall. “This will work,” he growled. “As soon as I met you, I knew you were the one who could help me make it work. You’re smart and beautiful, and a doctor. And now that I have the money to fight Brenda—”
“But Adam,” she pressed. “The fact that I’m a doctor means nothing to the courts. That’s just silly. Why, you’re a respected surgeon who—”
“I’m not!” he choked, then slammed the wheel with his fist. “I’m not. I was a washout. I never made it through med school. They kicked me out, Claire. Me! I had the talent, the smarts, but they kicked me out. Said I had anger management issues. They confused an artistic temperament with anger. Can you believe it!”
If it hadn’t been so tragic, Claire would have laughed. Yes, she could believe it, all right. His volatility and lack of self-control seemed to manifest at the merest provocation. But anger was one thing. He was also deluded if he thought marrying her would get his kids back.
“I’m sorry, Adam,” she muttered, stalling, trying to think of some way out of this. “I had no idea about med school.”
He nodded a few times, his lower lip jutting out like that of a kid who’d been sent to his room.
Watching him, she realized that Adam was a boy in a man’s body. An unruly child who wanted his way and couldn’t have it. And now he was hurt, angry, and desperate, and he was going to make everyone pay for his misery.
“Brenda married me when things were good,” he said. “I was going to be chief of surgery someday, and she knew it. But when they cut me loose, she found all kinds of excuses to leave me.” Under his breath, he said, “She took my kids. Crystal and Josh. They idolize me, you know.” He shot her a quick glance. “They think I’m wonderful. They want to come and live with me. Why, the last time I talked to Crystal, she begged me to come and get her.”
Claire nodded slowly, and let the conversation drop.
The night was heavy, oppressive. The dark settled over Claire, making her feel as though she were entombed as she forced her brain to work harder to come up with a viable plan of escape. But everything she thought of involved too much risk to Betsy.
Claire had no idea where they were. The trees were so tall, the stands so thick, moonlight couldn’t penetrate. Only the headlamps and dashboard lights provided relief from the predatory darkness.
“Where are we?” she ventured.
He waited so long to answer, she gave a little jump when he finally spoke.
“Where all the magic happens,” he said. “Or used to. I’m going to have to abandon this particular operation now. But there are other people, other places. You and the kids will be well provided for, so don’t worry. You won’t be sorry you married me, Claire.” He smiled over at her. “I promise.”
Claire’s stomach tightened into a hard knot.
He slowed, as though looking for something off to the side of the road. Behind a thick stand of trees, a small ball of light eased the darkness.
“Hi, honey, I’m home!” He chuckled as he turned off the main road and onto a narrow drive. In front of them stood a barrier of iron bars. Reaching above his head, he pressed the electronic opener, and the gate began to slide away.
Off to her right, she thought she caught a glint of something, a reflection. Eyes in the night? A deer? A coyote? Deep into the woods as they were, it could be anything.
As the car passed through the entry, she glanced in the side view mirror. Shadows, movement, another glint of light, then stillness. The iron gate slammed closed.
Wherever this place was, she and Betsy were trapped inside.
* * *
Taylor watched his brother go slowly insane.
Betsy’s mother, Loretta Tremaine, her red hair teased and sprayed into what appeared to be an imitation of a candle flame, paced Soldier’s kitchen, hugging the geriatric Piddle to her bosom. The chihuahua’s head bobbed up and down with each step she took.
“Find my daughter!” she screamed. “Castrate that man! No, wait. I’ll do it! If he harms one hair on my Elizabeth’s head—”
“Loretta,” Soldier growled. “You need to calm down and tell us exactly what you saw.” Taking his mother-in-law by the elbow, he escorted h
er to the nearest chair, where she sat and crossed her legs. Licking her glossed lips, she nodded and took in a deep breath.
“As Pids and I were driving up the street, I saw a tall, exquisitely handsome man helping Elizabeth into the backseat of a very large automobile.”
“What color?”
“He was white.”
“The car, Loretta.”
“Oh. Black. It was enormous, one of those, what do you call them, subterranean vehicles.”
“All-terrain sports utility vehicle?”
“Yes, that’s it. An SUV thing. But by the time I drove up, he was driving away. I honked and waved, but she appeared not to notice me. Imagine that.”
Soldier sighed. “A difficult feat. What did you do then?”
“Well,” she said, as if the answer were obvious. “That was when I noticed the kitchen door was wide open. I went to close it, and saw her purse sitting on the table. The room was as you see it now, a complete disaster, as though there had been a, well, a struggle. That’s when I knew something was wrong.”
“Because of the struggle?” Taylor asked.
“No, because a woman would never go anywhere without her handbag. I mean, honestly.” She rolled her eyes and shrugged.
“What direction did they take?” Soldier said.
She gestured with her free hand while the chihuahua snoozed in the crook of her other arm. “That way. Away from town.”
The brothers exchanged glances. Taylor had issued an all-points for the SUV, but they could be anywhere by now.
He tamped down the anxiety in his gut. Claire, at that bastard’s mercy. Betsy . . . well, a man only had to look in Soldier’s eyes to see the anguish there.
LeRoy had made a big mistake kidnapping Claire and Betsy—bigger than he could possibly imagine. Even if he did manage to get clean away, the McKennitt brothers would hunt him down like the dog he was. They would never give up until they found the son of a bitch. Never.
And if either Claire or Betsy was hurt. . . .
Taylor shook his head. It wasn’t going to happen. LeRoy would be a fool to hurt either one of the women, and he had to know the consequences of what he was doing. But being arrogant and cocky could make him reckless . . . and very dangerous.
Sighs Matter Page 21