by A. C. Arthur
“You’re Bailey Donovan, is that correct?” one reporter asked. “How did you escape your kidnappers? Or was that all a ploy to keep our attention off the Donovan Secret Son?”
“Where is the Secret Son? Will he take his place at Donovan Oilwell? Or will he join you, Lincoln, at the Gramercy?”
Linc frowned as he now stood right next to his father.
Dev immediately moved from where Trent was seated to stand in front of Bailey, shielding her from the reporter that had noticed her.
“Who are you? The bodyguard? Why didn’t you stand in front of Tia Donovan to keep her from being shot?”
They were everywhere and Dev was pissed the hell off. This is not what the family needed. It wasn’t what Trent or Bailey needed. Not right now.
“No comment,” Henry had begun saying. He’d moved Beverly back to stand beside Bailey while he faced the reporters.
At that point Trent also stood and glared at the reporters.
“There will be no answers to your questions today or any other day,” Trent said, his voice anything but calm or cooperative.
“Get back!” Dev began yelling. “Get back! All of you get the hell back!”
He’d received help from the deputies that to Dev’s estimation were a bit late to the party as the press should not have been allowed in this private waiting room at all. He began herding the reporters out of the room, pushing two of the cameramen until one actually fell to his knees, clutching his camera. Dev didn’t give a damn, a part of him had wanted to grab the camera and toss it out the window. He didn’t, only because the four deputies that had come in seemed to gain some control as they began threatening to arrest anyone who didn’t leave right away.
“I want officers outside of this room and my daughter-in-law’s room twenty-four seven,” Henry announced once the room was clear of reporters. Two of the four deputies stayed. “Only family in or out,” Henry insisted.
One of the deputies nodded, the other cleared his throat before saying, “You’ll have to run that request by Sheriff Summit. He’s on his way up here to get a statement. For now, we’ll be right outside.”
A statement of what had happened in that cabin. Dev and Trent locked gazes as Jade helped Beverly and Bailey to chairs along the wall. Henry frowned and said, “We need lawyers before we talk to anybody. I’ll call Ben and Victoria.”
“They’re probably already on their way,” Beverly said. “I called Alma when we landed.”
Trent had gone quiet, but slowly slid back down into the chair nearest the window. This time he lay his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Henry was walking toward his son when Dev’s phone vibrated.
“I’ll go outside to make sure they know you’re not talking until your attorneys arrive,” Dev told them while digging into his pocket to retrieve his phone.
He was out in the hallway, nodding as he moved past the two deputies that had just left the waiting room, before he finally looked down at his phone to read the text message he’d just received.
Another shooting. seems just like old times.
Chapter 2
An hour later and Bailey’s hands were still shaking. She’d hid the reaction from her family by keeping her hands in the pockets of the sweatpants she wore. There were a lot of Donovans in the waiting room now. In addition to the family that had been there when Bailey arrived, Aunt Alma, Uncle Everette, Max, Deena, Ben and Victoria were now on site. They’d arrived a half hour ago along with Sheriff Summit, who had immediately begun to question Trent. Ben, an experienced defense attorney, had given Trent permission to answer the basic questions about what had happened during the shooting, but all inquiries about the kidnapping, the reason behind it and where Trent had received the information that Bailey was at the cabin, was off limits. Ben had met the sheriff’s obvious irritation about that with a simple statement, “In the event you have something to charge any of my clients with, more information may be forthcoming. Until then, Mr. Donovan’s wife is still in surgery. That’s where his focus will remain.”
Then it had been Bailey’s turn to be questioned. They’d moved to the far end of the waiting room because Victoria, who used to be a prosecutor but had joined Ben’s private practice after her maternity leave, had refused to let Bailey be moved any further from her family.
“She’s been held captive for almost two weeks,” Victoria told the sheriff. “Right now she needs to be near her family. So if you want to do this now, this is where it will have to be.”
Sheriff Summit, a tall no-nonsense looking man appeared to be still ruffled over dealing with Ben. He may have thought it was going to go easier with Victoria, but she’d been quick to prove him wrong.
“Ms. Donovan, can you tell me how you came to be in that cabin tonight?” the sheriff asked.
By now it was almost ten o’clock. Bailey had noticed the time when she’d glanced at the clock on the wall a little while ago. She didn’t have on a watch and had no idea where her cell phone was. The thought had her wondering at that moment about what else she hadn’t had with her in the time she’d been held captive. Her bird, Peaches immediately came to mind and she began to fret. Noting how intently the sheriff was looking at her, Bailey made a mental note to call her neighbor in Greenwich, to see if she’d checked on the closest thing Bailey had to her own child.
“As far back as I can recall, I was driven to the cabin. I remember waking up in the dark room one night. The next time I awoke it was daylight,” she told him.
“What day was this?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t know.” The loss of time frustrated Bailey more than the actual act of being kidnapped had. She was always on time for everything, always knew her schedule and kept to each and every appointment meticulously. To say she was feeling out of sorts about this was a drastic understatement.
He wrote that down and then looked up at her as if he expected her to elaborate or change the answer. She decided to just go back to the beginning and give him all the info she could recollect. Because she was used to doing her own bit of interrogating she figured she was pretty sure of what not to say to him.
“I left my house on a Wednesday morning intending to go to the gym. After the gym I was going to go back home, change clothes and then to the office. I work at D&D Investigations in Greenwich, Connecticut,” she told him.
“So, today is January 21st. It’s a Saturday night, if you weren’t sure,” he continued.
He’d raised one thick bushy brow, his dry and cracked skinned fingers stilled as he held the pen as if waiting for something else to write.
“She’s sure that she was held captive and almost killed tonight,” Victoria told him.
The sheriff’s glare and subsequent displeasure was clear. “Who held you captive, ma’am? And have you ever seen these people before?”
“Roslyn Ausby, Roslyn’s daughter, Jaydon Donovan and a man named Orin. The only one that I’d seen before was Jaydon,” Bailey stated.
“Because she’s a member of your family?”
“She used to be a member of my family,” Bailey said, her disdain at that fact clear. “She was married to my cousin Parker. And she was the one who shot my cousin Tia tonight.”
“And Parker and Jaydon are divorced now? How long ago was this?”
Bailey shook her head because she wasn’t sure of these dates either. “They were married as soon as they finished college. The marriage didn’t last long, so I’d say about eight or nine years ago,” she approximated.
“All of this is verifiable through the State of Florida as Parker Donovan lives in Miami,” Victoria offered.
The sheriff nodded at the statement, but continued to stare at Bailey. “So this Jaydon is divorced from the family for years and then she comes back to kidnap you. Why?”
Bailey willed her hands to still and flattened them on her thighs. “I don’t know why,” was her response.
He nodded again.
“And the other two alleged kidnapp
ers, how do you know their names and how are they connected to Jaydon Donovan?”
Bailey waited a beat before responding this time. She didn’t want to confirm the connection between Roslyn and her family, but she didn’t want to lie to the sheriff either.
“I heard them talking a lot. The guy named Orin spoke to Roslyn, saying her name repeatedly. Then Roslyn and Jaydon talked about Orin,” she explained.
“Okay, let me get this straight—Jaydon Donovan, who you know because she used to be married to your cousin, her mother, Roslyn Ausby and a guy named Orin No-Last Name kidnapped you for no apparent reason. They picked you up in Connecticut and drove you across country to a cabin up at Big Bear Lake, then what? Planned to kill you? Use you for ransom? What was the point to all of this? And while you’re thinking on that answer, I have another question for you.” He paused then and looked from Victoria to Bailey, his brow furrowed. “Who is Roslyn Ausby? You mentioned her and so did Trent Donovan. I’m guessing that means you all know who she is.”
“Why do you think we know her?” Bailey asked.
Sheriff Summit grinned then. “I’ve been doing my job for a mighty long time, Ms. Donovan. Both of you included,” he added when Victoria had been about to say something. “Now, what I know is that a person’s name, first and last name, doesn’t just come from two people by coincidence.”
He was right, Bailey thought with a start. There was no such thing as coincidences. Trent had taught her that a long time ago. Her father and the secret he’d kept all these years about her mother’s death had only reinforced that theory. Albert should have never believed it was a coincidence that the same day he received a letter from Roslyn Ausby, his wife would die in a car accident.
“Are you forgetting that she’s the victim here?” Victoria asked him.
“No,” he replied and sat back in the chair, tapping his pen against his notepad. “I’m not forgetting anything. I’m especially not forgetting that just last night I watched a broadcast news special about Bailey Donovan being kidnapped. As the list of suspects went, the press was leaning towards somebody Bailey or her co-workers at the PI firm had either put in jail or had ruined in some way. Now, you’re giving me the names of these people but refusing to clarify your connection to all of them.”
“What?” Bailey asked. She hadn’t been afforded a television in the room where she was being held so clearly she’d missed that broadcast. “This was in the news?”
Victoria reached a hand out to touch Bailey’s arm.
“My client was being held captive, therefore she cannot speak to any news story you may have heard,” Victoria stated evenly.
“Roslyn Ausby and Jaydon Donovan weren’t mentioned but I can easily start picking around to find that connection,” the sheriff said as he eyed Bailey carefully.
“This meeting is over,” Victoria announced at that point. “Bailey was kidnapped. She told you the names of her kidnappers and you know where she was found. If you have any more questions about the kidnapping, then feel free to give my office a call.” She’d pulled a card from the front pocket on her ivory colored blouse and handed it nicely to the sheriff.
The sheriff stood and took the card from Victoria. He nodded to her and then looked at Bailey once more. “You can bet I’ll have more questions. I’m going to head back to my office and make some calls to Connecticut and wherever else I need to contact until I get to the bottom of this.”
Bailey stood slowly, being careful to hold the sheriff’s gaze lest he think she was guilty and/or hiding something.
“Please let us know when you figure out why Jaydon Donovan and her mother decided to kidnap me,” Bailey said to him.
Touching the tip of his hat, he gave another brief nod before going across the room to speak to Uncle Henry.
“Why didn’t somebody tell me that word was out about the kidnapping?” she asked Victoria in a hushed tone.
“Because we don’t know who leaked the story. Right now it’s all just a story. The less we corroborate, the better,” she told Bailey. “So be sure not to speak to any of the press or law officials without me by your side.”
“He didn’t ask about the shooting,” Bailey said.
Victoria nodded. “I know. He did seem more focused on the kidnapping. Maybe that was the direction he went in with Trent. I’ll talk to Ben about it.”
Bailey could only nod her agreement. The scrunchie that was holding her hair back all of a sudden seemed too tight as her head began to throb. She reached back and pulled it free. She ran her fingers through the tangled ends of her hair and tried to keep her mind focused. She was also, again trying to keep anyone from seeing that her hands were shaking this time by continuously moving them. Inside, however, she still felt jittery at hearing the gunshots and seeing Tia lying bloody on the floor, and now by being in the news and questioned by the police.
“I’m going to call my dad,” she’d told Victoria.
Victoria had nodded, the perfectly cut ends of her hair brushing over her cheek.
Now, after calling her neighbor, her father and talking to both her brothers, Bailey was still standing in the hallway. Deputies were at the door to the waiting room and a few traveled down in her direction. She supposed they were keeping watch, but for who? Who did Sheriff Summit think might be coming to the hospital? And what was he thinking happened at that cabin? Bailey had been there and she was still having a hard time believing it all herself.
Tia had been shot. Jaydon had been shot. It could have been her. It could have been Trent or…Devlin.
But it wasn’t them. It wasn’t him. Bailey shook her head and kept repeating that to herself, as she walked towards the ladies’ room. She was fine. Trent was fine. Devlin was fine. Once inside, she went straight to the sink and switched on the water. She lowered her head and tried to take deep breaths. This wasn’t like her. She didn’t panic and she didn’t crumble. But she had crumbled, not too long ago, when she’d been in Houston. Brandon and Brock were trying to tell her that there was something suspicious about their mother’s death, but Bailey hadn’t wanted to hear it. Even after all these years, the pain of losing her mother was still so fresh. Listening to the two of them talk about it like it was some great conspiracy had been hard to digest. And when she’d finally given in to the despair, she’d run out of the house and straight into Devlin’s arms.
Bailey cupped her hands together and held them beneath the cool water. She leaned over and splashed the water on her face twice. Then she pumped soap into her hands and washed them, before pulling down paper towels to dry her face and hands. She took another deep breath and once again tried to keep the shield she always projected in place. When she thought she was once again ready to face her family, to be a rock of support for Trent and one of reassurance to the others that this situation was going to come to an end soon, Bailey walked to the door. She’d just stepped through when she stopped because the sound of people running down the hall and one of them passing saying something about a Code Blue had everything she’d just told herself collapsing. Her hands were definitely shaking again, her gaze immediately turning toward the end of the hall where the waiting room was. If the staff was going in there, something must have happened to Tia. Was she…? Maybe Aunt Beverly or Uncle Henry had some type of collapse? This has certainly been a lot of pressure on the two of them considering Roslyn was only aiming at their family because she had a fling with Uncle Henry. Even still, Bailey didn’t want anything to happen to them. She didn’t want…
“It’s not her,” his deep and steady voice confirmed.
He’d taken her by her shoulders and pushed her slowly back against the wall.
“Tia is still in surgery. I just checked with the nurses at the station. She’s still fighting.”
Devlin was talking as he stood in front of her like a shield. Bailey hadn’t looked up at him, yet her body had instantly relaxed at the sound of his voice and his touch. She closed her eyes and let her forehead fall forward until it rested on
his chest.
“She’ll pull through this. Everyone will,” he continued.
Bailey began shaking her head. “I don’t know if we can,” she admitted in a quiet voice. “So much has happened already. So many things have been revealed that we can’t take back. And we still can’t find her. We have no idea what she may be planning next. How do we stop her? What do we do about Dane? How do we fix this? How?”
Bailey hated how weak she sounded but she couldn’t stop herself. Once she began it all flowed like a rushing wave. Her chest heaved and tears stung her eyes. At her side her fingers clenched with the pent up rage from being helpless.
“Look at me,” Devlin commanded. “Bailey, I said look at me.”
She did. Reluctantly. Lifting her head and opening her eyes as if they each weighed a ton.
“You and your family are going to pull through this because that’s the stuff you’re all made of. There is no quitting spirit within this family. No backing down. Not in this generation or the last. You’ve made your stand and you’ll see this through. All of you will because to do anything less would not be in the Donovan style.”
She heard his words, she honestly did even though there was still commotion going on throughout the hallway. But damn, they weren’t what she wanted to hear right now. What Bailey really wanted him to do was to shake her and then she would wake up and realize that all of this was just a dream.
“I don’t know what else to do,” she admitted. “I feel like we’ve done everything. We’ve investigated everyone and chased after them only to be left in the dust. She’s one step ahead of us all the time. How is that even possible when we’re the ones trained to track and investigate?”
“Stop,” he said, this time his hands moving from her shoulders, to cup her cheeks. “We’re not going to do this right now. Not here.”
He pulled his hands away from her immediately then.
“The press is all over the place,” he continued. “They won’t stay behind that barrier at the end of the hall forever. So let’s just get out of here.”