by Deborah Camp
“Caleb Rudd?”
“One of his brothers drives a black pickup truck and he’s never liked me.”
“His brother looks like him?”
“Uh . . . looks like him?” AmyLynn pursed her lips. “Well, yeah, I guess he favors him.”
Trudy squinted at her. Obviously, the FBI hadn’t shared that part of her information. “Rachel thought she knew the man.”
“Well, she does! He’s her uncle!” AmyLynn bounced on the sofa cushion. “I always wondered if Caleb’s family might be behind this. Caleb has an alibi and all and he sees the girls whenever he wants – which isn’t all that often. So, I never thought he had anything to do with it. But his parents call me a lot and want me to let the girls come for long visits. John kept insisting that Caleb’s family was jealous of us and would take Rachel just to upset me and maybe get John to pay a big ransom.”
“There’s no ransom demand,” Trudy said, trying to piece this theory together and finding it difficult to understand why the Rudd family would kidnap one daughter instead of both. “Are the Rudds closer to Rachel than they are to Hannah?”
“No.” AmyLynn frowned. “But she’s young and can be more easily controlled.”
“Texas.” That stuck in Trudy’s mind like a cocklebur. “I had the impression she was closer. Much closer. Here in southeast Missouri. I don’t understand why the Rudds would—.”
“She could be home within a few hours,” AmyLynn said as if she hadn’t even heard Trudy. “I’m on pins and needles here!” Her eyes glistened, this time with tears of joy.
Trudy smiled, wishing she could share in the euphoria, but there were too many loose ends, too much that didn’t add up. The Rudds? It didn’t make sense. “Has Caleb talked about raising the girls in Texas?”
“No. He’s too busy chasing skirts. The girls call him every week or two. He sends birthday and Christmas gifts.” She frowned. “Caleb wanted a son . . .”
“Excuse me.”
The deep voice made Trudy jump slightly and she looked up to see John Comfort standing just inside the office. He smiled benignly at them.
“John! I was just giving Trudy the news.”
He nodded, calmly, unruffled, not sharing in the jubilation. “Praise Jesus. I was wondering if I might have a private word with Miss Tucker? In my office?” He stepped back, indicating that Trudy should come with him.
Trudy caught her breath for a second, wary of the invitation. What was this about? She studied him, trying to discern his motive, but he wore his mask so well, she couldn’t see past it. Just like his son, he knew how to shut people out when necessary. Tall and imposing in his three piece black suit, white shirt, and red silk tie, he raised his brows in a silent question. Fight or flight, Miss Tucker?
Rising slowly from the couch, Trudy smoothed her hands down the front of her gray tweed slacks and buttoned her gray suede jacket. Relieved she’d dressed for business, thinking she might meet with law enforcement officers, she forced one black suede heel in front of the other from AmyLynn’s pink and white office to John’s domain next door. She hadn’t been in his office before and she was curious about it. It was even more than she’d expected.
Three times the size of AmyLynn’s, the room had ceiling to floor windows along one wall. Various types of gleaming wood created a masculine palette. Cork was underfoot, his large desk and bookcases were made of bird’s eye maple, and a big, impressive coffee table in a leaf design had been hewn from tulip wood and black walnut. A large red leather Bible was the only decoration on it.
Supple, brown leather covered a large couch and wing chairs, made all the more cozy by being arranged in front of a burled oak fireplace where logs glowed and flames danced.
A large Venetian glass cross hung on a wall near his desk. Four Venetian glass framed mirrors on the other walls reflected the firelight and sunlight. A lot of mirrors, Trudy noted. The better to admire yourself . . .
Glass-fronted bookcases displayed an array of awards that shared space with photos of John Comfort shaking hands with presidents, senators, athletes, and movie stars. There was one photograph of AmyLynn and it sat on his desk. She looked like an angel in it. White light surrounded her and made her platinum hair shimmer like it was made of sun-kissed clouds. No photos in sight of Rachel or Hannah.
The scent of linseed oil and pine permeated the air along with the heady perfume of burning wood. She felt his scorching regard behind her, but she forced herself to turn around smoothly, confidently. He closed the double doors, still smiling, and strode to his desk, stopping behind it to face her.
“I believe you’d talked to everyone here except for me,” he said, his tone cordial and measured.
“You’re probably right.”
“Do you think the FBI will bring Rachel home today?”
“I hope so.”
“I didn’t ask for your aspirations. I asked for your thoughts.” His tone was still level, but now it had an edge.
Trudy shifted from one foot to the other. She glanced down at the lovely, patterned floor and saw her white, silk blouse flutter slightly over her furiously beating heart. “No.” She raised her gaze to his again. “No, I don’t.”
He widened his light blue eyes. “Really? Hmmm. Well, I trust you’re incorrect.” He placed a hand on the back of his leather office chair and a beam of sunlight glinted on the gold links of a watch fob dangling across his vest. “I think you should move on, Miss Tucker. After what happened at the prayer vigil and being accosted by Leviticus.” He shrugged. “You’re upsetting people and I can’t have that. It’s time for you to be on your way.” He opened his desk drawer. “How much do you want?”
Her mind scrambled to follow him, having stalled momentarily when he’d told her to hit the road – like he had a right! And now he was . . . She stared at the checkbook in his hand. Paying her off? The imperious fop! “Two million,” she said, enjoying a little thrill when his gaze bounced to her in surprise. “No, make it three.” She let that settle in his mind for a few more seconds before she smiled, coolly. “There isn’t enough money in your bank account to entice me to follow any order given by you.”
He straightened, letting go of the checkbook and his blue eyes reminded her of river ice. “You’re here only because of my largess toward my wife. You’re no longer needed or wanted.”
“Your largess?” she repeated, astounded. “Oh, my. Levi’s right. You are a raging narcissist.”
“Leviticus.” He stared at her, his gaze hard and damning. “He’s poisoned your mind. That’s what happens when you consort with the devil.”
She knew he wanted her anger, her affront, and although those feelings exploded inside her, she gave him her contempt. “I see you. I see past the mask. I know what you did to him. How you tried to destroy the amazing, God-given gift of him.” She paused, watching his face pale and then suffuse with hot color. “But you failed. God intervened and sent him a guardian angel named Gregory to watch over him, to teach him, to guide him.”
He actually smirked. “A God he doesn’t even believe in?”
She smirked back at him. “Oh, Levi believes in God. He just doesn’t believe in you.”
The temperature in the room seemed to plummet as John’s eyes grew even frostier and his upper lip twitched into a snarl.
She drew in a steadying breath, reining in her anger as she fought back the emotion tightening her throat and making her eyes burn. Tearing up in front of this man would be demoralizing and it took everything in her to keep her eyes dry. And she didn’t want to talk about Levi with him, although she yearned to speak her mind and tell him how she despised him for trying to break his son’s spirit. “As for me, I’ll leave Cotton when I damn well please, but you can rest assured that it won’t be until Rachel is found.”
With that, she turned on her heels and headed for the double doors and a clean escape.
“It can become quite unpleasant for you if you insist on staying where you aren’t welcome,” John said, his
voice smooth, almost oily.
“Please, don’t worry about me,” she tossed over her shoulder as she flung open one of the doors. “I can take care of myself.” Outside the office, she closed her eyes on a long sigh. That man! The nerve of him! Offering her money, threatening her!
“Trudy?”
She opened her eyes to see AmyLynn motioning her to come into her office. What now? Trudy wondered, wearily, even as she grudgingly obeyed. AmyLynn urged her to come farther inside so that she could close the door for privacy.
“Are you okay?” she asked, clearly concerned.
“Yes.” Trudy frowned, wondering why AmyLynn was so relieved by her answer.
“Good.” She patted Trudy’s upper arm. “John is so charismatic. He has a huge presence. I was afraid you’d feel intimidated.”
Incredulity spiraled through her, making her laugh under her breath. “Your husband doesn’t intimidate me, AmyLynn. Infuriate me? Yes. Disgust me? Absolutely!”
AmyLynn’s hand fell away from Trudy and her thick lashes fluttered. “Trudy! Why, what a thing to say. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“I’m sor—no, I’m not sorry. I won’t apologize for that.” Trudy hitched up her chin. “That’s how I feel about him.”
“Well, Jesus help!” AmyLynn tipped her head and a small smile of pity curved her pink lips. “This is about Levi, isn’t it? I heard about his outburst. John told me that Levi was quite the handful growing up, what with his willful and rebellious ways, but let’s not let their cantankerous relationship affect how we deal with each other. Okay, hon?”
“W-willful? R-rebellious?” Trudy stuttered, flabbergasted with her view of things. “Levi was eight years old!” She leaned forward to press her point. “His father sent him to the equivalent of a concentration camp for children because Levi was having psychic visons. He wasn’t rebellious! He was a frightened, sensitive child who needed his parents to help him understand what was going on. What he got was a father and mother who cast him out on his ninth birthday and gave other people permission to punish and torture him to presumably chase the devil out of him. It’s a testament to Levi’s brilliant mind, indelible spirit, and huge heart that he managed to become the benevolent, honorable man he is today!”
AmyLynn’s mouth dropped open in shock and then her gaze snapped to a spot behind Trudy. Without looking, Trudy knew that John Comfort had joined them, but she kept her focus on AmyLynn.
“Woman to woman, AmyLynn,” she said, lowering her voice. “Don’t let John come between you and your girls. For God’s sake, stand up for them.” She cleared her throat. “I hope we get good news about Rachel today, but just to be perfectly clear, I’m not leaving until she’s found.” Then she turned on her heel to confront John Comfort’s icy blue, narrowed glare. Tipping up her chin again, she marched past him and down the hall.
Anxious to get out of the building, she almost ran into Sam as he was coming inside. He grabbed her by the upper arms to keep her on her feet.
“Whoa there, Miss Tucker!” He grinned, made sure she was on firm footing again, and then let go of her. “Is Rachel here yet?”
“No. Not yet.” She smoothed a lock of her short hair behind her ear.
“Ah, well. It’s good to see you. I haven’t clapped eyes on you for a few days.”
“Uh . . . no. I saw you at the prayer vigil,” she reminded him. Was he purposefully trying to forget that ugly scene?
“No. I wasn’t there.” He ran his thumbs under his suspenders.
She let go of a short, incredulous laugh. “Yes, you were! I saw you. You were with the Comforts.”
He frowned, looking puzzled for a second before his expression cleared. “That wasn’t me. I stayed at Mama’s. She was feeling poorly. You saw my brother Moses. The vigil was my mama’s idea and Moses made it happen, so I wanted him to be there. Hey, I gotta run. See you around!”
“Oh . . . okay.” Possibilities whirled inside her brain like a Ferris wheel gone mad. When she came back to herself, Sam had already left her. Feeling stunned as if she’d just been socked in the jaw, Trudy leaned back against the wall near the front entrance to digest Sam’s revelation. He had a brother. Moses. But she had been sure she’d seen Sam at the vigil. She’d been about ten feet away from him, but she’d been so certain it was Sam.
“Hey.”
Trudy glanced up to find Hannah standing in front of her and she felt a smile touch her lips. Hannah had paired black leggings with a red and gold sweater that had “Hogwarts Alumni” blazoned across it.
“Rachel’s coming home today, right?” Hannah asked in her usual “I don’t really care” tone.
“Ummm . . . hopefully, yes.”
“Mom acted like it’s a slam dunk.” Suspicion glinted in her brown eyes. “I don’t think Daddy or Uncle Jimmy had anything to do with it.”
“Neither do I. Have you met Sam’s brother?”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Duh. Yeah. Their mother is my grandmother’s best friend.”
“Oh?” Trudy’s heart kicked hard. “So, they live in Cape Girardeau?”
“Outside Cape. In the country. Why?”
“Are Sam and his brother twins?”
“No. Moses is older than Sam, but they could almost pass for twins.”
Trudy closed her eyes as the world seemed to spin crazily on its axis for a few seconds. Sam and his brother . . . could Sam be in on this kidnapping? Dismayed by the thought, she forced it out of her mind for the moment. “Have you been to their house?”
“You mean their mother’s house?”
Trudy nodded.
“Yeah. Once or twice.”
“Can you give me the address?”
“They don’t have an address.” Hannah flipped her long brown hair over her shoulders. “I told you, it’s out in the country.”
“Could you give me directions to it?”
“Not really. Well, maybe.” Hannah pinned her with eyes that were windows to a soul that was older and wiser than most belonging to a fourteen year old. “This is about Rachel, isn’t it?”
“It could be, but don’t say anything to your mother yet. I need to check some stuff out first and talk to the FBI. It could be – probably is – a silly hunch.” But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. Her sixth sense was quivering like a live wire. She was onto something.
Chapter 17
Rocketing into the RV, Trudy stumbled to a stop to stare wide-eyed at Levi. He sat at the dinette, tapping away on his laptop, but his fingers froze when he saw her. Slowly, he closed the document he was working on and sat back.
“Uh-oh. You look like I need a drink.”
She started to say something, but then his words registered and she ended up giggling. “Yeah, you probably will need a drink.” Sliding onto the bench seat across from him, she composed herself and reached across to grip his forearm. “The FBI got my report and they’re heading to Texas to question Caleb Rudd.”
He tipped his head to one side and did a slow, exaggerated blink. “Huh?”
“I know! His brother has a black pickup.”
“So do a couple thousand other cowboys in that county.”
She nodded, exasperated. “It’s nuts, I know, but AmyLynn is beside herself and certain that they’ll bring Rachel home today.”
“What do you think?”
“I think I have a better trail to follow. I was talking to Sam and I mentioned I’d seen him at the vigil. Sam said he wasn’t there. He was at his mother’s house in Cape Girardeau.”
“He’s lying,” Levi said. “Why is he lying?”
“I don’t’ think he is.” She wiggled her eyebrows, enjoying her “reveal.” “Sam has an older brother who looks so much like him that they are sometimes mistaken as twins.” She grinned and folded arm arms with smug satisfaction. “His brother, Moses, was at the prayer vigil. Moses lives with their mother. Oh! And their mother is besties with AmyLynn’s mother.” She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out the bank depo
sit slip she’d used to scribble on. “Hannah’s been to their house and gave me directions on how to get there. Sort of."
Levi drew his forefinger across his forehead. “Whew! My head is spinning.” He held up his hands, palm out. “Okay. Let’s review . . . you think that Moses and his mother have Rachel? Why?”
“Motive? You expect me to provide motive, too? Jeesh!” She shook her head, smiling to let him know she was dishing out sarcasm. “Who knows why? Let’s just say they’re crazy for now.”
“Wouldn’t the FBI have checked them out already?”
“Yes, just like they’ve already checked out AmyLynn’s ex-husband, but they’ve missed something. And at that time they didn’t know that Rachel thought she knew the man who took her – that he looked like someone she knew.”
“So, that was Moses at the vigil.” He squinted one eye. “Well, he looks a helluva lot like Sam. If they have Rachel, do you think AmyLynn’s mother knows?”
“I’ve considered that, but I only met her once and she was speaking in tongues most of the time, so I’m not a good judge of her character.”
“What about Sam? Is he in on it?”
“He has an alibi for the night she was taken.” She shrugged. “I hope he’s not part of it. I like him.”
He shook his head as if he were rattled, then planted his hands flat on the table. “I need that drink. How about you?”
“No!” She grabbed his wrists before he could leave. “You’re driving to Cape Girardeau.”
“I’m what?”
“I’ll sense it if Rachel is there once I see the house or get near it.”
“What you need to do is call the sheriff and FBI. Let them handle this. Remember, you’re not a private eye, Trudy.”
She glared at him in exasperation. “They’re off on a wild goose chase! Besides, I don’t want to tell them about this until I’m more certain that I’m on the right track this time.”
He stared at her – hard. “You should call Wannamaker.”
“I will. After.” She stared back at him – hard. “I want to be sure before I call him.” Unable to sit still another moment, she bounced up and down, getting a grin from Levi. “Let’s go!”