Fugitive Father

by Jean Barrett

  “Good night, love. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she promised, whispering her message into the blackness of the night.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ellie was eager the next morning to keep her promise to Noah. But first she had to find a way to slip away from the castle so she could visit the cabin in secret.

  They were seated in the sumptuous dining room, bright with sunlight. She waited until Brett finished helping himself to more coffee. Then she declared her intention in a casual voice.

  “Would you mind if I spent the morning away from the estate? I want to scout picture locations. I may even do some painting if anything irresistible turns up.”

  “I’d love to be out there with you. So would Joel.” Brett sipped his coffee and nodded in the direction of a back parlor that had been designated a schoolroom. “He already made a fuss having to go off to his lessons with Mrs. Connelly. It’s too bad neither one of us is available for you this morning, but I promise to be more attentive as soon as I wrap up some pressing business.”

  Ellie did her best not to look relieved. It was all working out, and she was satisfied that Joel would be safe while she was gone. She had met his teacher before breakfast. The woman seemed devoted to him. He would be with her until lunch, and by then Ellie planned to be back at the castle. Besides, even if Brett was involved somehow in the death of his father, there was no reason to suppose he was any threat to the boy. Anyway, what choice did she have? Joel was forbidden to leave the estate, and she had to meet with Noah.

  Brett regarded her thoughtfully. “I imagine you’ll be in and out of the place a lot. It’s probably a good idea if you have an automatic opener of your own for the gates.”

  He trusted her. Perfect, Ellie thought. She could come and go without being monitored, and when the time came to remove Joel from the estate…

  She felt a hard gaze on her. Peaches. He sat across the table from her. When she looked at him, she could see it on his face. He didn’t want her to have that gate opener. But he was in no position to offer any objection when Brett instructed him, “Peaches, will you see to it that Ellie gets one of the spare openers for her van?”

  Peaches nodded without comment. He was supposed to be Brett’s driver and bodyguard, but he was more like a factotum. He didn’t seem to resent it, nodding again when Brett stood and added a quick, “After that I’ll need you in the library. It’s going to be a full morning.”

  This was something else Ellie wondered about. She’d gathered that Brett was dealing with a tense business matter. There had been a veiled reference to it between him and Peaches shortly after her arrival yesterday and again last night at dinner. It evidently had to do with a series of phone calls between here and Chicago. Brett was supposed to have been in Chicago the day his father died. Maybe there was a connection between all this and Howard Buchanan’s murder. Or maybe not. Ellie would love to know, but right now her need to join Noah at the cabin was a priority.

  SHE NOTICED IT in her rearview mirror just seconds after she pulled away from the gates. A dark blue sedan directly behind her. She had no reason to be worried by its presence. After all, this was a public road. Why shouldn’t other vehicles regularly use it?

  But Ellie had an uneasy feeling about this particular car. It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Nor did it make any effort to pass her, even when she slowed the van to an aggravating crawl on a pretext of admiring the scenery.

  Maybe her situation was making her paranoid, or maybe she had a real concern here. She kept a watchful eye on the rearview mirror as she continued along Settlement Road. The dark sedan, like some sinister phantom, shadowed her through every turn and dip.

  Ellie decided long before she reached the crossroads where the general store was located that she was definitely being followed. And though her pursuer maintained just enough distance between them to prevent her from catching more than an unsatisfactory glimpse of him at the wheel, she was certain of his identity.

  Noah’s enemy, Detective Lew Ferguson. It had to be him. Nor had his rental sedan just happened to be there outside the gates when she emerged from the estate. Peaches must have contacted him when he’d left the dining room to fetch the gate opener. Ferguson had been waiting for her.

  Ellie understood now why the bodyguard hadn’t objected to her sudden arrival at the castle yesterday. He regarded her as an opportunity. Because if he and Ferguson were convinced she was the key to Noah, they must be hoping she would lead them to his hideout.

  She couldn’t go to the cabin. She couldn’t go anywhere near it. When she arrived at the crossroads, she turned left toward Rosebay. It was the opposite direction from the route to the cabin.

  She was on the highway now. There was traffic here, and it thickened as she neared the center of town. Maybe she could lose the detective, find her way to the cabin after all…Not a chance. Despite the congestion or the twists and turns she executed as she pretended to explore the town, the dark blue sedan stayed with her. Relentless and unnerving, determined to wear her down.

  Ellie’s anger and frustration mounted. He was keeping her from Noah, and there was nothing she could do about it. Yes, there was one thing. She could demonstrate the innocence of her outing, make the effort to convince her pursuer that she had no connection with the man he wanted. Even that she was unaware of being tailed, or at least not troubled by it.

  She found a place to park along the main street, conscious of the sedan doing the same just down the block but ignoring it as she struck out on foot.

  Rosebay was a bustling community supported by a large furniture factory. She strolled along the sidewalk, gazing into the windows as though she had nothing more important to do. There was a paint store that carried art supplies. She went inside, browsed through its merchandise, and bought a tube of watercolor that she didn’t need. She didn’t see him, but she knew that Lew Ferguson was somewhere close by.

  There was a bank on the corner, and when she came away from the paint store she decided she had a legitimate reason to use it. She had secured emergency traveler’s checks in St. Louis for her trip to the Ozarks. Noah would need funds to get away, and when that moment arrived there would be no time or means to secure them. He didn’t know it yet, but she intended to finance his flight from North Carolina.

  Ellie went into the bank to turn the checks into cash. When she emerged a few minutes later, Lew Ferguson was waiting for her on the sidewalk. The sight of him standing there in her path disarmed her for a second. Then, remembering that she wasn’t supposed to know who he was, she started to move away from him, hoping that she had betrayed no sign of recognition.

  He stopped her with a raspy-voiced, “Ms. Matheson?”

  Ellie turned to face him, registering her surprise. The surprise was genuine. She hadn’t expected him to reveal himself. He must have grown tired of playing cat and mouse with her, realized that it was getting him nowhere and decided to risk a bold confrontation.

  “Yes,” she said hesitantly, “I’m Ellie Matheson, but how did you—”

  “Detective Lew Ferguson from the St. Louis P.D.” He displayed his identification for her.

  Ellie glanced at his credentials, then smiled at him sweetly. “How nice. Someone else from home. Are you here on vacation too, Detective?”

  His gaze narrowed, warning her not to play games with him. “It’s business, Ms. Matheson, not pleasure.”

  But not official business since his department didn’t know he was here, and for that reason alone she was prepared to resist him. “I see. Well, actually, I don’t. Did you want to ask me something, because you still haven’t said how you knew who I was?”

  “A cop has his sources.”

  And we both know you have no intention of disclosing this one.

  “As a matter of fact, Ms. Matheson, there are a couple of questions you could answer for me.” He leaned back against the parking meter behind him. “In connection with Noah Rhyder.”

  She gazed at him directly, careful to maint
ain an expression of innocence. “Then he’s still on the loose?”

  “Afraid so.”

  She nodded sympathetically. “Which, of course, is why you’re here in North Carolina. I can understand that now. I just can’t understand how I could possibly help you to find him.”

  “I figure maybe you might, Ms. Matheson.” She didn’t like him. Even if he wasn’t relentlessly after Noah, she wouldn’t have liked him. He had ashes on his clothes, he stank of cigar fumes, and he was smug. “Like to know why I figure that?”

  “Please.”

  “Because I think you’ve been with him recently. I think he busted into your house back in St. Louis, grabbed you, and forced you to take him to North Carolina so he could snatch his kid. Maybe I’m wrong, Ms. Matheson, but that’s what I think.”

  “That’s quite a theory, Detective. Uh, how did you—”

  “Arrive at it? Well, now, see, it’s more than just a theory. There’s a matter of some evidence.”

  Ferguson went on to describe how her worried neighbor had let him into her house and how he had discovered the discarded jail coverall in the basement, traces of dark hair in the bathroom sink, and the smashed door in the kitchen.

  Ellie was impressively appalled. “You’re serious? He was actually inside my house? If it was ransacked, I’ve got to call home.”

  “He wasn’t in there for that reason, Ms. Matheson. All he wanted was his kid.”

  “I can’t imagine why he thought he’d find him there. The house was empty. Joel was with his uncle, and I was gone on my trip.”

  Ferguson shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded slowly. “Then you weren’t home when Rhyder broke in, so he couldn’t have grabbed you.”

  “I don’t see how it’s possible, Detective. Do you?”

  “No, not if you were already on the road, like you say. But it’s a funny thing about that break-in. Nothing was damaged except the kitchen door, which means he entered from the garage. Now how did he get into the garage after you were gone? No windows in there, no entrance except for the garage door itself. That was down, and it being automatic, he couldn’t have raised it from the outside. See what I mean?”

  “That is funny. How did he get in? Unless…” She broke off in flustered realization. “I’m afraid I have a bad habit of forgetting to punch the opener when I’m distracted.”

  “Which you happened to be that night.”

  “Must have been. I was probably trying to remember whether I’d packed everything when I pulled away. I suppose I forgot to hit the button on my visor. If the garage was wide open, all he had to do was walk in and lower the door after him.”

  “You really think it happened that way?”

  “I’m sure it did. Don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t. I still say he abducted you and that maybe along the way you fell for him, and now you’re protecting him. Where is he, Ms. Matheson?”

  “I think I’ve answered enough absurd questions, Detective Ferguson.”

  “Just one more. Why are you here in North Carolina?”

  “To visit a little boy I’m very fond of, to paint in the mountains, and because Brett Buchanan invited me. All solid reasons for being here. Feel free to check them out.” She started to turn away. Then she stopped and faced him again with a challenge of her own. “By the way, shouldn’t you have had a search warrant to go into my house without my permission?”

  He flushed, his florid face turning an even deeper red. An angry red.

  “Don’t worry, Detective. I don’t plan to file a complaint. This time.”

  Ellie left him there on the sidewalk. She was fairly certain that he wouldn’t dare to approach her again, not when he had no authority to be here. But she knew better than to think she’d seen the last of him.

  He hadn’t believed anything she’d told him. As tenacious as a pit bull, he would continue to follow her, confident that she would eventually lead him to Noah. Why? Why did he have this abnormal obsession to punish Noah?

  She didn’t bother checking her rearview mirror when she drove away from Rosebay. She knew the dark blue sedan would be somewhere not far behind her, but there was no point now in trying to shake it. It made no difference, because the morning was almost gone. She had no choice but to return to the castle.

  Joel would soon be finished with his half day of lessons. She had promised herself that when his teacher departed she would be there for him. Though she trusted the boy with Mrs. Connelly, she didn’t trust him with either Brett or Peaches.

  The situation was maddening. Lew Ferguson had cheated her of seeing Noah, and she damned him for it. Now her need to be with the man she loved would have to go unsatisfied for another twenty-four hours. She couldn’t safely try again until tomorrow morning.

  Noah would be frantic when another day passed without contact from her. He had to be worried, wondering what was happening, maybe even imagining the worst. But what else could she do? If only there were a phone at the cabin…

  ELLEE PARKED THE VAN in a wide gravel area at the side of the castle. She was about to head for the front door when she heard the sound of voices behind the tall hedge that bordered the drive. One of them belonged to Brett. The other was a woman’s, punctuated by lilting laughter. They were coming up through the gardens from the direction of the stables.

  Not wanting to intrude if Brett had a guest, Ellie started to turn away. Too late. He had already appeared in the narrow archway in the hedge and discovered her standing there.

  “Ellie!” he called to her. “Look who turned up this morning to join the party!”

  He came on through the archway and stepped aside, permitting his companion to reveal herself in the opening. For a second Ellie didn’t recognize the stunning redhead. It wasn’t until she smiled that she remembered her. It was a smile as blinding as Brett’s. She had met it once before in her driveway back in St. Louis.

  “Look at her face,” the tall redhead teased in her low, throaty voice. “She’s as surprised as you were, Brett, when I landed at your gates.”

  Hand outstretched, the woman came forward to greet her. Ellie shook the offered hand, murmuring a polite, “It’s Sandra O’Hara, isn’t it?”

  “Bless you for remembering. Most of the time I get, ‘Oh, it’s the lady from Family Services.’”

  “I didn’t forget that part either. You were Joel’s caseworker there at the very end when he was turned over to Brett.” Ellie had a sudden concern about that. “Is something wrong? Is that why you—”

  “Arrived out of nowhere? No, it’s nothing like that. I’m not here in any official capacity. I had to take some vacation time or lose it. I remembered Brett’s tempting descriptions of the mountains here, so I thought, why not? I could have my holiday and at the same time stop in to check on Joel’s progress.”

  “More than just stop in,” Brett said. “I’ve convinced Sandra to be my guest while she’s in North Carolina.”

  “Isn’t it awful? He only had to ask, and I moved right in. Who could resist this place?”

  “I’ve been showing her Sultan while we waited for Joel to finish his lessons.”

  “Isn’t he an impressive animal?”

  The redhead linked a proprietary arm with Brett’s. The meaning of her words, and of her action, was not lost on Ellie. She had already clearly understood the situation. Sandra O’Hara wasn’t interested in Joel’s progress or the North Carolina mountains. She was interested in nothing but Brett Buchanan and had been from the start, back in St. Louis. If she in any way regarded Ellie as a rival, she was far too self-assured to let it bother her. Her manner toward her remained friendly, her smile radiant.

  Sandra O’Hara didn’t know it, but Ellie was grateful for her arrival on the scene. If the redhead kept Brett occupied—and he was behaving as though he wouldn’t object to her attentions—then Ellie herself was safe from him. He’d be too involved with Sandra to get familiar with her or be curious about her activities.

  “There’s our boy no
w,” the redhead said, lifting her hand in a cheerful wave.

  Ellie turned to see Joel at the window of his schoolroom. Though he politely returned Sandra’s wave, his greeting lacked enthusiasm. He probably doesn’t even remember who she is, Ellie thought.

  Joel was shy with the social worker when they all sat down to lunch a few minutes later. She asked him questions about his schoolwork and his pony, and he answered her in monosyllables. Ellie didn’t blame him for his spiritless manner. Sandra’s incandescent smile and eager conversation wore a bit thin after a while, though Brett seemed fascinated by both.

  Ellie revised her opinion about Joel’s quiet mood when they escaped to his bedroom after lunch. Probably Sandra had nothing to do with it. He was looking a bit flushed.

  “Sweetheart, are you feeling all right?”

  His shoulders lifted in a little shrug. “I dunno. I guess.”

  She felt his forehead. It was slightly warm. She wondered if he was running a fever. “Why don’t you lie down,” she suggested, “while I see if I can find a thermometer. I’d like to take your temperature.”

  He didn’t object. He crawled up on his bed and cuddled Hobo. Ellie checked the bathroom. No thermometer. Leaving their rooms, she went in search of one.

  The house was quiet. The staff were all in the service wing, and Sandra had disappeared into her own bedroom to unpack her things.

  Ellie was passing the library when she heard Brett’s voice behind the door that stood ajar. She raised her hand to rap on its surface, intending to ask him where she could locate a thermometer.

  Then she realized he was talking to someone on the phone just inside, maybe Chicago again. When his voice suddenly lifted with impatience, his words becoming perfectly clear, she forgot all about her intention to announce herself.

  “I’m telling you there’s nothing to worry about. Listen, I don’t care what my situation was six months ago. I can cover the debt without a problem. There’s plenty of money now.”