She couldn’t seem to get a full breath as he leaned closer, so slowly, and his lips finally grazed hers. Then suddenly her free hand was clutching the front of his T-shirt and the fingers he had been resting on her collarbone moved into her hair. He took her upper lip between his, brushed his tongue against the seam of her mouth.
Pulling him toward her, she wrapped her arms around his back and held on tight, leaning into his kiss, demanding more. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow, didn’t want to think about leaving. She only wanted Peter, for as long as they had together.
He groaned, the sound somewhere between frustration and need, and then she was in a controlled fall until her back hit the couch cushions, her feet still dangling on the floor. Peter angled over her, his weight on his elbows as his lips met hers again, his kisses still unhurried even as she arched up toward him.
She slid her hands down his back, pulling him toward her, thrilling in the sudden contact as he lowered his weight more fully onto her, as she shifted so her whole body was underneath him. Running her hands through his hair, over his shoulders, she fused her lips to his. The world around her seemed to fade away until all she could think of, all she could feel, was Peter.
The phone vibrating in her pocket startled her, made her jerk. She yanked it out of her pocket, ready to toss it on the floor, when she saw the name on the caller ID. Kensie knew she’d come here tonight, probably knew she wouldn’t want any interruptions. So why was she calling now?
As she squirmed to sit up, Peter moved off of her but stroked her hand.
Her voice was breathless as she answered, “Hello?” She cringed at how she sounded.
“Alanna?” Kensie’s panicked voice made Alanna’s head clear fast.
“What’s wrong?”
Her older sister, who’d risked her life to find Alanna five years ago and come to her aid once again, burst into tears. “She’s gone!” Her words were garbled over the tears as she rushed on. “Someone came into the cabin. Elysia was sleeping. Now, she’s just gone. Alanna, she’s been kidnapped!”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“How is this possible?” Alanna paced in front of the fire, her skin still flushed from their embrace, her lips still slightly swollen from his kisses. With panic all over her face, she spun to face him. “How?”
“I don’t know.” Peter stood, used his free hand to pull her against his chest as he listened to the officer on the other end of the phone. “Are you sure?” he asked the officer, then swore.
“Well?” Alanna demanded.
Peter shook his head. “Darcy is still behind bars. They just confirmed it. She didn’t escape again.”
“And?”
“And nothing. She’s not saying a word.”
Alanna hurried across the room and picked up her coat, fumbling as she tried to get it on. Chance raced after her, barked once, then looked back at Peter.
He followed and grabbed the coat out of her hand. “Just hold on, okay? Let’s not waste time driving around. Let’s figure out what’s going on here.”
“This can’t be a coincidence,” Alanna said, her voice too high-pitched, panic in every shaky movement.
“I know.” He pulled her back into his arms, held on tight. “I know. We’ll find her.”
He felt tension all through her body and wished he could rewind to five minutes ago, before Elysia had been abducted out of the Hayeses’ cabin a mere twenty feet from her sleeping parents. Back to Alanna breathless and kissing him, back to a time when nothing else mattered.
He’d been expecting her at his doorstep, had known an apology was coming. He’d planned to cut it off to let her know how she’d impacted his life. He hadn’t planned to tell her that he’d developed complicated feelings for her. He definitely hadn’t expected anything to happen between them.
Now none of it could matter. Because somehow, from behind bars, Darcy Altier had orchestrated the abduction of Alanna’s niece. “It could be a copycat,” he theorized out loud. Maybe Darcy’s media attention had spurred someone else into action.
“Really? Another kidnapper?” Alanna squirmed free of his tight hold just enough to look up at him from within the circle of his arms, her expression skeptical.
She was only a few inches shorter than him, and he was tempted to lean down slightly and kiss her forehead. He ignored the urge and agreed with her. “Probably not. But Julian is dead. Darcy’s been in jail for five years. How likely is it that she managed to find a new partner while she was on her way here from Oregon?”
“There’s no way,” Alanna said, pulling away from him and starting to pace again, her hands curled into fists. “Maybe Darcy paid someone? I mean, it’s Elysia.” Her voice cracked and she swiped a hand over her eyes. “Darcy is trying to hurt me because I turned her in five years ago, because I came after her again. I should have stayed home. I should have made sure Kensie stayed home. I can’t believe Darcy would do this! I can’t believe—”
Peter pulled her back against him just as Chance ran over and pressed against her side, nudging her with his big head. “It’s not your fault.”
“Of course it’s my fault!”
“Alanna—”
“Let’s not argue about this.” She spun in his arms to face him, staring up at him with desperation and trust. A trust he probably hadn’t earned. “Let’s just figure out how to find my niece.”
“We will,” he promised, praying he could keep his word.
To find Elysia, he had to figure out if Darcy had contacted someone. Who would help her? According to the station, Darcy hadn’t made a single call since she’d been arrested yesterday. Maybe someone had acted without her needing to ask? Maybe they’d seen the news and taken their own revenge.
But who?
“Could it be someone she met in jail back in Oregon?” he asked. It was an odd thing to consider, but it definitely happened.
“Wouldn’t that person still be in jail?” Alanna was obviously not following his trail of thinking.
“I mean, someone who visited her. You know those women who marry men on death row? Or marry murderers while they’re still in jail, then move in with them when they get released? It happens with female inmates and male civilians, too.”
Alanna shook her head. “Darcy was already married. Julian—”
“Was in jail, too. They were separated, in two different prisons. Maybe someone started visiting her. Even if she wasn’t interested, maybe they followed the news. They could have followed her here. Maybe it was their way of trying to win her over. Stranger things have happened.”
Alanna looked skeptical, but it was the best idea he had. It made a lot more sense if it was someone who’d visited Darcy, who’d schemed with her. Someone whose trust she’d earned, someone who’d do anything to make her happy.
No matter what Alanna thought about Darcy and Julian’s relationship, these were people who’d spent nearly two decades with kids they’d kidnapped. They were both capable of manipulation. Maybe someone desperate and lonely had visited Darcy in prison and she’d seen an opportunity. Then, when she’d managed to escape, he’d followed her here and taken revenge when she’d gone back to jail.
That actually seemed possible. No matter what Peter thought of Darcy’s actions, he’d seen the love for Alanna in her eyes. He could absolutely picture her kidnapping kids she didn’t know, trying to re-create what she and Julian had once had. But he wasn’t sure he could imagine her intentionally hurting Alanna by having her niece kidnapped by someone else.
It wasn’t her MO. Whatever messed up psychology had allowed her to rationalize kidnapping children, she’d grabbed them with the intent of raising them. This was different. Elysia’s kidnapping seemed malicious, angry, driven by revenge.
“I’m going to talk to the US Marshals she got away from back in Oregon,” he told Alanna. “They’ve probably already looked into who
visited her in prison. Hopefully they’ll share that info with me. Otherwise, I’ll try the prison.”
Pulling out his phone again, he looked up the number for one of the US marshals who’d accompanied Darcy to Julian’s burial. He’d spoken to the agent a few days ago to give her a heads-up that he thought Darcy could be in Alaska. At the time, she’d seemed overworked and overstressed and seriously doubtful that Darcy had made it so far north so fast.
When she picked up now and he explained the situation, there was a long pause. Then she admitted, “We can’t be sure about this, but it’s possible Darcy had help escaping us at Julian’s burial.”
Peter swallowed back words of frustration that he hadn’t heard about this the first time he’d called. “Who?”
“We don’t know. We don’t even know if he was in on it. At the time, we assumed it was a coincidence. But given what you’re telling me now, maybe we should have looked at it more closely. The distraction he caused, right when he caused it… He left right after, with the rest of the crowd. We never tracked him down.”
“It’s what gave Darcy a chance to run?” Peter guessed, as Alanna tilted her head close to his, listening in.
“Yeah.”
“You have a description?”
“It was a man. Younger than her. Probably white.”
Peter let out a noise that sounded like a laugh, but was all frustration. “That’s it?”
“It was drizzling. He was wearing a dark raincoat. He wasn’t particularly close to us and he wasn’t our priority. There was a big crowd there, gawkers and press, plus mourners from another burial service nearby. He was in the wind immediately.”
“Okay.” Peter sighed, then said, “A little girl is missing. We think it’s connected to Darcy. Do you know anything else about this guy that could help?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Did you look into who visited her in prison?”
“Of course. But no one visited her. We confirmed with the prison that she received mail, but following procedure, they didn’t read it. And whatever she received wasn’t in her cell after her escape.”
“What about phone calls?”
“Nope. She requested to have all the kids she abducted on her approved contact list, if you can believe it, but obviously, that was denied.”
“Thanks.” When he hung up, he saw how tightly Alanna’s lips were pursed together, how her eyes were twitching like she was holding back tears. “I’m going to call my department. Whoever Darcy is working with, she had to contact that person somehow. If it was via mail, maybe one of her cell mates knows who was writing her. We’ll find him. In the meantime, let’s—”
The buzzing of his phone cut him off. He answered and told his partner, “Tate, I was just about to call you. Alanna’s niece—”
“Has been kidnapped. Colter Hayes called us twenty minutes ago. You need to get in to the station right now.”
“We’re trying to run down leads,” Peter told him, squeezing the hand Alanna had placed in his, watching her wipe away tears. “I think—”
“I’ve got a lead. I need you here right now,” Tate interrupted, then hung up.
* * *
THE MOON WAS an ominous sliver in an angry gray sky when Peter whipped his truck into the Desparre PD parking lot.
Alanna leaped out as he put the vehicle in Park, Chance chasing after her. She raced across the lot to the station’s door, sliding on a patch of ice and pinwheeling her arms until she regained her balance. Her frustration at the lack of information had grown unbearable on the way over. All Peter had told her after hanging up with Tate was that there was a lead.
Peter didn’t live that far from the station—less than ten minutes at the near-dangerous speeds he’d been driving. But she’d felt every one of those minutes like they were hours. Elysia was out there somewhere, at the mercy of a stranger.
Alanna had never felt a joy quite like the day she’d gone to the hospital to meet her niece. She’d spent years agonizing over her choice to leave behind “siblings” she’d loved, so she could return to siblings she’d missed but who’d become vague memories. But that first moment she’d held Elysia in her arms, she’d been so overcome with love, she’d nearly burst into tears. That moment had been worth every doubt, every ounce of guilt she’d tried to psychoanalyze away.
Now Elysia was in danger. And it was because of her.
Yanking the door to the police station open, Alanna nearly stumbled as Chance raced in past her, barking a greeting that was returned immediately. Rebel was here. Which meant Kensie and Colter were, too.
The door marked Police Only was propped open and Chance bolted through it. Even though she knew Kensie and Colter would never blame her, Alanna’s steps faltered. Her anxiety ratcheted up, but then Kensie was running toward her. Colter hurried after his wife, his gait uneven as he leaned on the cane he rarely used, his wartime injury obviously acting up. Before Peter had even finished slipping through the door behind her, Kensie and Colter had their arms around Alanna, a family hug that reminded her how much she’d missed in all her years away. Chance doubled back, running circles around Colter and Kensie’s Malinois-German Shepherd, until the two of them pushed their way into the circle.
A short burst of anxious laughter broke through her threatening tears as Alanna pulled out of the tight embrace. She saw the panic and desperation on Kensie and Colter’s faces and a sob burst free. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” Colter snapped, something deadly coming into his eyes that might have been his war face. “It’s not your fault. We need to focus on getting her back, not on regrets.”
Alanna nodded, swiping away the tears that had spilled despite her best efforts. “What do we know?”
At the question, Tate appeared, frowning as his eyes skimmed down the top page in a big stack of paper. “Not what we expected.”
“What does that mean?” Alanna demanded, tired of all the cryptic information.
“Let’s go sit in the conference room.” Tate nodded briefly at Peter, then spun back the way he’d come.
Alanna hurried after him, alongside her sister, brother-in-law, Peter and the two dogs. Together, they all crammed into the little conference room and then Tate announced, “The parents of those two kidnapped kids arrived late this evening.” He glanced at his watch and then amended his statement. “Technically, yesterday. Once they saw their kids, we sat down and talked to them about what happened.”
“I’m sorry,” Kensie interrupted, her hand clutched tight in her husband’s, her eyes and nose bright red like she’d been crying fiercely not long ago. “What does this have to do with Elysia? Do you have any leads on where she is?”
Tate set the stack of papers on the table, rubbed the side of his hand against his forehead like he was exhausted. “We all assumed Darcy had kidnapped those kids.”
“What?” The floor seemed to move underneath her and Alanna flung her hand out to steady herself on something. Before she could grip anything, Peter was holding her arm, keeping her upright.
“She did kidnap them, didn’t she?” She looked from Tate to Peter and back again. “She had those kids at the cabin…” Or did she? They’d obviously been at the second cabin, but at the first one, Alanna had only seen her run out the door. Where were the kids then?
“It sounds like she was involved,” Tate said, “but…” He glanced at them, leaning against the wall, holding onto each other, the dogs positioned in front as if standing guard. “Why don’t you all sit?”
“Just tell us,” Colter demanded, his arm tight around Kensie’s shoulders. “What’s going on?”
“According to the kids, Darcy didn’t grab either of them. The little boy said it was a man, much younger than Darcy, who kidnapped them and brought them back to Darcy.”
“I’ve been in touch with the Marshals who were watching her in Oregon,” Pet
er jumped in. “It sounds like this could be the same person who helped her escape at the burial. We need to talk to the prison, try and see if we can figure out who was writing her there. She must have met someone through letters, convinced him to help her escape.”
Was that really what had happened? Or was the answer much simpler? Alanna felt herself sway as Tate continued.
“Apparently, when you caught up to Darcy and the kids at the second cabin, this man was out. When you found her at the first one, he’d already taken the kids to the second location. Both times, he had their vehicle. Darcy had needed to start that avalanche so she could slip away and wait somewhere for this guy to pick her up. It’s why she didn’t have anywhere to go at the second cabin. Darcy was supposed to erase all traces of them and then call to get picked up again.”
“Did they mention a name? Have we pressed Darcy on who it is?” Peter asked. “Or I can call the prison right now, light a fire under them, so that they—”
“You don’t need to do that,” Alanna said. “I know who it is.” She looked at Kensie and Colter, shaking her head in disbelief, ashamed that it hadn’t occurred to her before now that Darcy might have had help.
Darcy might see a child from a distance that she wanted, that she believed should have been her child. But it had always been Julian who’d made it happen. With Julian out of the picture, there was only one person Alanna could think of who would try to piece together a new family for Darcy.
“It was my older ‘brother,’ Johnny.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Johnny is the kidnapper,” Tate confirmed. When Kensie gasped and looked to Alanna, Tate said, “We don’t have a recent photo of Johnny, but we showed the kids a picture from when he was rescued five years ago and they confirmed it was him.”
“Why?” Kensie asked Alanna. She was flushed with panic and clutching Colter, whose expression had morphed into a fury Alanna had never seen before. “Why would he kidnap those kids? And why would he take Elysia?”
Harlequin Intrigue January 2021 - Box Set 2 of 2 Page 53