by Mallory Kane
With or without him, Sunny would have made this trip.
“Sir, I felt it was my duty to protect Ms. Loveless.”
Decker didn’t speak.
Griff was reminded of rumors he’d heard about Decker and his wife. About how the honorable, unflappable Special Agent in Charge had acted out of character a couple of years ago in order to protect the woman who was now his wife from a murderer.
“Mitch, this feels right. Let me follow through with it. Hell, this will probably be the last favor I ever ask of you. You saw my letter of resignation? I left it on your desk.”
“Regretfully, I did. I was hoping you’d change your mind.”
Bowing his head, Griff rubbed his chest. “No. That won’t happen. Coming back to Nashville cemented my decision. This will be my last case for the FBI. I can’t do this anymore.”
“Find that little girl, Griff, but call for backup. The local field agent is standing by, as is local law enforcement. I’ll deal with CAC.”
Griff took down the names and numbers of the locals.
Detecting a movement out of the corner of his eye, Griff turned. Sunny stood at the adjoining door to their rooms. Her shocked expression told him she’d heard every word.
She’d just discovered that her precious daughter’s life was in the hands of an FBI agent who wanted out.
Griff thanked Decker and disconnected. Without looking at Sunny, he reached for his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. “Ready to go?”
“You’re quitting the FBI?” Her voice accused him. “What about Emily?”
“We don’t have much time.” Chalk up one more reason he needed to get out. He was becoming way too emotionally involved with this case. With Sunny, a small voice in his head whispered.
“I don’t understand. A few days ago you told me it was just a job and you were good at it.”
He reached for his shirt, using the process of buttoning it to avoid looking at her.
She took a step toward him. “So if it’s just a job, why can’t you do it anymore?”
He glanced up. He knew what she was feeling. In her mind, she’d just been abandoned by the one person who had sworn to take her shattered world and make it right again.
He still remembered the day he and his father had been told that there were no leads in his sister’s disappearance and how bereft he’d felt as the tall, stoic agent had walked away.
He straightened, meeting her gaze. “I’m not quitting today.”
Chapter Eight
Janie drove like hell toward Oak Grove, seething. She didn’t know how much time she had to get to Bess, but she sure as hell wasn’t wasting any of it.
She’d thrown some lie at Ed about her mother being sick. He’d have to make his appearance at church today without her. She had to get her hands on that baby before Sunny Loveless got there. The kid was her ace in the hole. She had an alternate babysitter lined up in New York City, a woman she’d used a couple of times in the past.
All she had to do was get the kid, drop it off in New York, then get back to New Rochelle before tomorrow morning, when Eddie and she were scheduled to meet with their lawyer and Ed’s campaign manager. They had to work on a plan to deflect the bad publicity caused by the landlord’s death.
Ashes flew from her cigarette as she slapped the steering wheel with her palm. This was all Hiram’s fault. He’d been such an idiot through all this—calling her about insignificant things, unable to make a decision for himself. She’d gotten sick of his whining.
How in hell was she supposed to know that this time, his phone call was vitally important?
She turned into the street behind Bess’s house, and parked in the backyard, as she always did, breathing a sigh of relief that the only other vehicle was Bess’s old pickup.
Taking the .22 that Ed had given her years ago from her glove compartment and slipping it into her purse, Janie walked around to the front door. As she passed the child’s sandbox, she flicked her cigarette into it. Finally, a use for a kid’s plaything.
When Bess opened the door, the old woman didn’t even look surprised to see her.
That shocked her. Her head began to pound. Had Loveless already been here and gone?
Janie didn’t waste any time on pleasantries. “I’m here for the kid.” She pushed past Bess and into the living room. “Where is she?”
“Janie, I’ve done your bidding for years, against my better judgment. When you showed up here fifteen years ago, with that precious child—”
Janie whirled. “Oh spare me, you old hag!” She took out a cigarette.
Bess frowned. “I’ve asked you not to smoke in the house.”
“Screw you.” She pointed with the unlit cigarette. “Get the kid, now. I’ve got to get out of here.”
Bess folded her arms. “I don’t have her.”
“You—” The fear that ate at her gut turned into panic. “What have you done?” The cigarette broke in her fingers. “Has Sunny Loveless been here?”
“Who?”
“Don’t mess with me! You know who she is. You called her, didn’t you? Didn’t you!”
“Yes, I called Ms. Loveless.”
“What the hell were you thinking? You’re in this as deep as I am.”
“Not as deep, Janie, and not anymore.”
Janie muttered curses as she stalked through the small house, scanning every room with a growing sense of dread. Bess didn’t follow.
Back in the living room, Bess still stood in the same position, her arms folded, a serene expression on her face. “I told you, I don’t have her.”
Rage burned in Janie’s ears and a sizzling pain penetrated her left temple like a hot skewer. Her fists clenched.
“And I asked you a question.” She advanced on Bess and grabbed her arm. “Did Loveless already take it?”
A disgusted look darkened Bess’s face, and a still certainty surrounded her. “I won’t tell you anything else. Get out of my house.”
Janie pushed Bess. “Where is she?” She doubled her fist and raised it, but Bess stood her ground, unflinching.
“There’s nothing you can do. This stops here and now. You’ve ruined lives, Janie Gross, and God forgive me, I helped you.” Bess shook her head. “When you were little, you were so quiet, but I always knew there was something about you. Your poor mother couldn’t handle you.”
“You leave that witch out of this! You don’t know anything.”
“I know you were only five years old when they took you away from her. I know what a heartbroken little girl you were the first time I saw you. I tried to be a mother to you, but there was something that never connected inside you. Something that keeps you from understanding other people’s pain. I think you lost that when you lost your mother. Or maybe you never had it.”
Janie pulled the gun out of her pocket, her eyes hazed over with memories and visions from the past. “Shut up! Shut up or I’ll shoot you now!” Her head hammered with pain. “I hate that woman. She’s all alone now, a dried-up alcoholic who loved the bottle more than her own child. She can die for all I care.”
Janie rubbed her temple with the heel of the hand holding the gun.
“I know she hurt you.”
“I said shut up! Do you want to know what hurt is? Hurt is a young mother turning around and finding her baby gone. Hurt is a pathetic father standing in front of cameras begging me to give his baby back. Me! I’m the only one who can do that.” She smiled. “They’re like puppets. I pull one string, they’re devastated. I pull another, they’re happy and hopeful.” She pointed the gun at Bess again. “Now tell me where the Loveless kid is or I’ll shoot you and you’ll know what hurt is.”
“You will never find this baby. You won’t get the satisfaction of watching Sunny Loveless beg and cry on national television.”
“You want to know what will satisfy me?” Janie screeched, clicking the safety off the gun. “Watching your daughter when she finds out what you did.”
Bess’s eyes w
idened slightly. “My daughter will be just fine. She knows everything.”
Janie’s brain was awhirl. It was hard to think with the incessant pounding in her head.
Where was the kid? Janie didn’t think the Loveless woman had it. She wouldn’t have left Bess here to face Janie alone. So what had Bess done with it?
Mia. Bess’s daughter.
Janie took a step forward. “Oh, really? Mia knows she was stolen fifteen years ago? Your daughter knows she has a real family out there somewhere?”
Bess blinked and her faded eyes filled with tears.
“You’re lying. Mia doesn’t know anything. You stupid old woman. You gave the baby to Mia.” Janie laughed. “Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out? I’m sure Mia will be happy to hand over the kid once she learns the truth about her mother.”
Bess scowled. “Leave Mia out of this. She has nothing to do with it.”
Janie aimed the gun at Bess. “Oh she’s got a lot to do with it if she has the kid.”
Bess shook her head.
“Where is she?” She gestured toward Bess’s phone. “Wasn’t she looking for an apartment near the university? Call her right now and tell her we’re coming to get that kid.”
“No.”
“Call her or I swear I will shoot you.”
“Janie, you’ve got to stop. The police are coming. It’s over.”
Bess was lying. Janie could see it in her eyes. The old woman was worse than Eddie. Why did people find it so hard to lie?
She glanced around quickly, gun still trained on Bess, and spotted a cell phone lying on the coffee table.
“If you won’t call Mia, I will.” She edged toward the phone. “I’m sure you’ve got her number in here.” Picking up the cell phone, she glanced down at the display.
During that fraction of a second when her eyes were off Bess, the old woman rushed her, gnarled hands stretched out to push her off balance against the coffee table.
Janie whirled and the gun fired. The recoil knocked it out of her hand.
Bess looked startled, then her eyes rolled back and she crumpled over the coffee table, blood everywhere.
Janie stared down at her for several seconds, but she didn’t move.
“Get up, you old hag! I know you’re okay.” She nudged her.
Nothing.
“Bess!” Damn, she was so still.
Janie felt her wattled neck. Her skin was still warm. That was good. But Janie’s trembling fingers couldn’t find a pulse.
Oh dear God, she’d killed her!
And she’d fallen on the cell phone. Janie cursed.
Swallowing hard against the bile that rose in her throat, Janie forced herself to slide her hand under Bess’s body and feel for the phone.
Warm, slick blood coated her fingers and wrist. There was so much of it!
Shuddering, swallowing acrid saliva, Janie finally touched the cool metal case. She jerked her hand back.
“Ugh!” The phone was black with blood. Backing away from her old nanny’s body, Janie rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a dish towel. She scrubbed blood off her hand, then wiped the phone in it. But blood still stained her fingernails. She turned her palm up. Her life line and heart line were painted with the deep red stuff.
Forcing herself to stop staring at the blood, Janie wrapped the towel around the cell phone, then looked up at Bess’s clock. She had to get out of here before anyone showed up. She started toward the back door.
The gun!
“Think, Janie. Don’t get rattled.” She needed a cigarette—bad. But that would have to wait. Hurrying back into the living room, she averted her eyes from Bess’s body.
Where the hell was the gun?
Closing her eyes, she thought about where she and Bess had been standing. The gun had to be somewhere near the coffee table.
Sharp pains arrowed through Janie’s head. Her hands were shaking as she bent over to search under the table and the couch.
There it was, on the other side of the couch. She walked around and picked it up, then ran for the back door. She used the towel to turn the knob.
As she climbed into her car, she heard traffic on the street in front of Bess’s house. Was it the police?
She tossed the bloody towel and the gun into the passenger seat and started the car. She pulled out onto the street behind Bess’s house, her limbs twitching with panic.
As she sped away and turned right onto McCarthy Avenue, parallel to Bergen, she licked her lips and shook her head to rid herself of the fear that strangled her. In all her years of brokering babies, she’d never made a mistake. But she’d misjudged Bess this time.
She couldn’t believe Bess would do anything that would jeopardize her relationship with Mia. Janie had always counted on that. It was why she’d given her first stolen child to Bess.
She’d have bet money—she had bet her and Ed’s future—that Bess would die before taking a chance on losing Mia.
Bess had died.
Janie practically gagged at the memory of Bess crumpled over the coffee table, blood spilling out around her.
Blood. Pumping. Blood didn’t pump out of a dead body.
Janie slammed on the brakes, about a hundred yards from Oak Grove Boulevard, the main street through the town. A car rushed past.
Janie froze, but the vehicle continued on.
Glancing in her side and rearview mirrors, Janie slowed and pulled into an empty driveway. Hopefully the owners of the house were at church. Leaving her car running, she glanced around again. The little street seemed deserted.
She quickly crossed the backyard and stepped into the common area. Trees and leafy undergrowth gave her cover as she maneuvered so she could see the front door of Bess’s house. She measured the distance across the yard of Bess’s big old farmhouse set back from the road. She was too far away to chance running across Bess’s manicured lawn.
Maybe she should drive back around. Did she have time?
As if in answer to her question, a car turned in to Bess’s driveway.
Pain hammered in Janie’s head.
What if Bess wasn’t dead?
IT HAD TAKEN forty minutes to get to the small town of Oak Grove, east of Philadelphia.
Sunny acknowledged the wisdom of Griff’s decision not to call the woman.
“I understand that she might panic and run,” she told him. “I also know you’re afraid this might be a trap.”
“Her name is Bess Raymond,” he said as he turned onto Bergen Avenue. “She’s run a small day care center out of her home for over thirty years. She has one daughter, Mia, seventeen years old.”
“Day care center? That explains why she has Emily. She must be keeping her for the kidnapper.” Her voice was tight with desperation and hope.
He didn’t answer.
“You don’t think she has Emily, do you?”
“I don’t know. I think she knows where Emily is. My guess is that she’s involved in a baby-selling ring. Think about it. A single woman, living in a relatively isolated area, running a day care center. She’s the perfect person to hold the children while arrangements are made for an illegal adoption.”
“All the children who are never found.” Sunny’s voice tore at his sore heart.
“Right.” His voice grated. Not all the children, but many. He thought of his own little sister, with her big violet eyes and thick, dark lashes. He’d lived his entire life hoping she was alive and happy, being cared for by loving parents. The alternative was too dreadful to bear thinking of.
“Griff? You look awful. Are you all right?”
He blinked and kept his eyes on the road. “Sure. There’s Bess Raymond’s house.”
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed one of the numbers he’d programmed into it less than an hour ago. A woman answered.
“This is Griffin Stone, FBI. Captain Sparks please.”
“What are you doing?” Sunny asked.
“Alerting the locals. I told my boss I wouldn’t go i
n without backup.”
“But she might run.”
He held up a hand when he heard a voice say, “Sparks, here.”
“Yes, Captain Sparks. Sorry to bother you at home. That’s right. My boss, Mitch Decker, called you? Good. We’re approaching the Raymond woman’s house now. I’d appreciate some backup in case of a problem.”
“They’re on standby. Shouldn’t be but a couple of minutes. What about an ambulance?”
Griff looked at Sunny. If anything happened to her baby— “Yeah. If you can spare it. And Captain, no sirens until we know what’s going on, okay?”
Sparks agreed.
He disconnected and stuck the phone back into his pocket.
“How long do we have to wait?”
“Just a few minutes.” He slowed down in front of the house. It was the only one on the short street. The way the area was laid out, it appeared that Bess Raymond’s house had been built before the streets around her sprang up.
Sunny put a hand over her mouth and stared out the car window.
It looked quiet enough. A medium-size house with a red roof and a large, welcoming front porch. White rocking chairs were lined up close to the porch rail. The yard looked like a toddler’s paradise. A slide, two swing sets and a wading pool were grouped together on one side of the long sidewalk. Colorful flower beds lined the front of the house.
Before Griff even stopped the car, Sunny grabbed the door handle.
“Wait! Damn it!” He slammed his foot on the brake and simultaneously reached across her, stopping the door from opening. “What the hell are you doing?”
She strained against his hand. “My daughter could be in that house.”
“We don’t know who else is in there.”
Her eyes met his. Finally she stopped fighting. Her lips formed a thin line, the tendons in her neck stood out.
“We agreed to wait for backup. You have to promise me you won’t do anything foolish.”
She lifted her chin.
“Sunny, you have to listen to me. What good is it going to do Emily if you get yourself hurt?”