Critical Exposure

by Ann Voss Peterson

  She pulled the knob, but his grip was too strong. She thrashed her hand, beating at a face she couldn’t see. A scream ripped from her throat. If only the detective was still outside. If only he would hear.

  The door released and she stumbled backward. Recovering her balance, she plunged out onto the stoop.

  A fist slammed into her jaw.

  Her head snapped back. The blow rang through her ears; color swirled behind her eyes. She could feel herself sinking to the ground. She could sense him moving away, down the steps, across the yard. Stealing her baby. Stealing her life.

  She willed herself to her feet. Willed them to carry her down the stairs. Her head throbbed and spun. Her arm ached, but she pushed on. But even before she reached the ground, she knew she couldn’t catch him. She knew he was gone.

  Chapter Six

  A scream cut through the small town like a siren.

  Rand whipped his car around and raced back in the direction of Echo’s house. It was Echo. He knew it, even though for the life of him, he didn’t know how.

  As soon as he turned the corner onto her street, he saw her stumbling across the lawn. “Stop him. Please. You have to help me stop him.”

  He had no idea what “him” she was talking about, but it didn’t matter. He snapped open his holster and pulled out his weapon. He caught up to her just as she stumbled, almost going down. He grasped her arm, holding her up. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  “He took Zoe. Hurry!”

  “Who took Zoe?”

  “I don’t know. But you have to stop him. That way!” She pointed through a hedge.

  He glanced back at his car. He’d have to run. He’d never have time to circle the block in his car and catch a running man before he made it through the yards.

  He raced for the hedge. Sharp branches of boxwood clawed at his suit, catching and holding. He yanked it free, the fabric ripping. Up ahead, he spotted a figure dressed in black, wearing a ski mask.

  And clutching Echo’s baby in one arm.

  Rand pushed his legs to move faster. His breath rasped in his ears. The grass skimmed slick beneath his shoes.

  He could see Zoe’s arms flailing. Hear her screaming. The man stopped and stared at him, as if he no longer had the need to run.

  Rand felt the gun ready in his hand. He couldn’t shoot from this distance, and certainly not while running. He couldn’t risk a miss. He couldn’t risk hitting Zoe. He had to be careful.

  Careful.

  His stride faltered and slowed. A feeling of caution swept over him, so strong he almost stopped.

  What was wrong with him? He’d always run toward danger. Toward gunshots. But now the need for caution overwhelmed him. It was all he could do to keep it from bringing him to his knees.

  It was happening again. The overwhelming emotions. Yet this time he wasn’t in Beech Grove. This time he was out in the fresh air.

  He bit his lip, hoping the pain would bring him control as it had before. The taste of copper filled his mouth but the fear kept building, fear that he would do something to hurt Zoe. Hurt a scared little baby.

  The man turned and resumed running.

  Rand forced himself to follow. He couldn’t lose the man. If he did, Zoe would be lost, as well.

  Another bout of fear ripped through him followed by the hollowness of failure. He pushed on. The emotions weren’t real. They couldn’t be. There had to be some kind of explanation.

  The man disappeared into the yard of one of the large homes that flanked the river.

  Rand raced on. With the man gone, the powerful swirl of emotion started to fade. He picked up his pace, racing along the path the man had taken just as a boat engine growled to life on the water below.

  A speedboat raced out onto the river, moving fast. The man looked up at him, and with the last glance came a wave of despair that drove cold into the marrow of Rand’s bones.

  “EVERY COP IN THE STATE will be on alert. We’ll find her, Echo.” Rand knelt in front of her and gathered her hands in his. He’d gotten her back in the house, planted her on the couch and checked on the still-sniffling babysitter before he’d called dispatch. Soon the place would be swarming with cops. Cops who would find Zoe.

  He could only hope.

  “What happened? How did he get away?”

  Rand felt sick deep in the pit of his stomach. He had the same questions. Questions he couldn’t answer. “He stole a boat,” he said simply.

  She buried her face in her hands. “It’s all my fault.”

  “Your fault?”

  She shook her head. Her flinch of pain was visible even though she still covered her face. “If I had been able to hold him longer, he wouldn’t have had such a big head start. You could have caught up to him.”

  An old ache hollowed out in his chest. He couldn’t let her blame herself. Not when it was his fault.

  He smoothed a hand over her hair. “You did everything you could.”

  “It wasn’t enough.”

  “But it wasn’t your fault. If this was anyone’s fault, it was mine.”

  “Yours?” She looked up at him as if what he was saying didn’t make sense.

  Maybe it didn’t to her. He only wished he was as lucky. “I’ve been experiencing some strange things. Things I can’t control. Emotional reactions.”

  “Does this have something to do with what you were talking about outside of Beech Grove?”

  “Yes. I thought maybe it was caused by something. That it wasn’t just in my head.”

  Echo shook her head. “It wasn’t just in your head. I felt it, too.”

  Rand took a slow breath. He’d been desperate to believe he wasn’t going crazy, that the emotional surges were coming from outside him. But now he was almost afraid to ask. “What did you feel?”

  “I was attracted to you all along. But in Vanderhoven’s room, I suddenly couldn’t control myself. It was like a switch being thrown. I couldn’t not touch you. I couldn’t not kiss you.”

  He nodded. He’d felt the same way. As if he couldn’t stop his mindless desire.

  “I just figured that I was so tired, I wasn’t thinking right. That lack of sleep wore away my inhibitions, I guess.”

  “But now you think it was more than that?”

  She nodded.

  If they had both felt the overpowering emotion, it had to be caused by an outside influence. But there was still a piece missing. “But you weren’t overwhelmed with emotion when Zoe was stolen?”

  “He had my baby. He was taking her.” Her voice trembled as she let out a shuddering breath. “I’m not sure what I felt. Scared, angry, desperate to get her back. The feelings were strong, out of control, but they seemed…”

  “Normal under the circumstances?”

  “Yes. But…”

  He leaned forward. “What?”

  “Shanna.” Echo glanced at the hall toward the master bedroom where the girl had gone to lie down. “When I walked in, she was lying in the hall, curled into the fetal position. She was sobbing so hard she couldn’t talk.”

  The man hadn’t hit the girl. Rand had checked her for injuries himself. She’d been shaken up, frightened, but physically she’d been fine. “It could have been just plain fear. That has got to be scary for a teenager. She’s what, eighteen?”

  “Nineteen. I suppose it would be awfully scary. Still it was strange, you know? He was still in the house, just a few feet down the hall in Zoe’s room, and she was just lying there crying. Not running. Just crying like her heart was broken.”

  He would definitely have a talk with the babysitter when she was up to it. Find out exactly what she felt.

  Memory niggled at the back of his mind. The St. Stephens cop, Woodard. When Maxie had been killed, state troopers had found Woodard in the hall. He’d been crying. Could it be related? Could Maxie’s killer be the same man who’d kidnapped Zoe?

  Still one thing didn’t fit the pattern. One thing didn’t make sense. “If something is out there that ca
n amplify emotions, and if the man who took Zoe used it on Shanna and me, why didn’t he use it on you?”

  He didn’t expect her to answer. There was no answer. At least, not one they could find knowing as little as they still did.

  “What do you think could cause something like that? A drug?”

  “Who knows? Maybe. Something administered through the air.” He thought of his first theory, back when he was scrambling to explain to himself how he wasn’t having a mental breakdown. “Maybe something being developed at Cranesbrook. And tested at Beech Grove.”

  “You really think so?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “Can you find out? Search the place? Find out if someone at one of those places took Zoe?” She stared at him with desperate eyes.

  “We’ve searched Beech Grove, top to bottom.”

  “How about Cranesbrook?”

  “We have an evidence team combing it now. At least, everything we can get warrants for.” The truth was their search was limited. And unless he could prove to a court that the scope of the search should be widened, they wouldn’t even scratch the surface of a place like Cranesbrook. “But the reality is, we don’t know this has anything to do with Cranesbrook. We don’t even know what we’re searching for.”

  She let out a long, shaky breath.

  For a moment he thought she would cry. Instead she raised her chin and sat up straight, as if forcing all her willpower into her spine.

  She was some kind of woman. He hated to think how he would react to losing a child. One reason he’d never entertained having one. “We’ll find Zoe, Echo.”

  “How?”

  “There are things we can do. Bloodhounds are on the way. Sometimes they can pick up scents even on the water. And we can put out an Amber Alert, use the media to help. The FBI has Rapid Start and Evidence Response Teams that we’ve called in to assist. We’ll find her, Echo. We’ll pull out all the stops.”

  “But if the man who took her can control emotions, what are the chances that anyone will be able to get her back?”

  He opened his mouth to give her an answer, then closed it without saying a word. He didn’t know the chances. He didn’t have a clue what they were up against. He wasn’t sure he dared try to explain it to anyone.

  Anyone but Echo.

  She looked up at him, her eyes puffy, her beautiful face drawn and taut. “Thank you, Detective.”

  “Call me Rand.” He laid a hand on hers, tracing over her soft skin with a fingertip. He shouldn’t have given her his first name. He shouldn’t be touching her now. He was coming dangerously close to getting personally involved. But somehow he couldn’t stop himself.

  She needed him. And he couldn’t turn his back. Even though turning his back was exactly what he had to do. For her sake. And for his own.

  MOLLY BAKERHOF CUDDLED the little baby girl in her arms and hummed the soft lullaby she’d honed to perfection in the years of raising her own children and grandchildren. This little girl was a gift. Molly’s arms had ached with emptiness in the years since her youngest grandbaby had grown too old for holding. But now that ache was gone and the sweet smell of baby shampoo swirled around her like the most precious perfume.

  She’d been so lonely since dear Fred had died. This little apartment had seemed small when he was alive. Now it was too big. Her life too quiet. She’d been so bored lately, she’d even contemplated getting a television.

  But all that had changed. With this sweet child in her arms, she didn’t need the new fall season of reality shows and crime dramas.

  She was sorry the baby’s mother was going through such problems. Severe depression was not to be taken lightly. But at least Molly could be a help. She’d make sure the baby was safe and loved until the mother could work through her problems. Until she could return to her child.

  “However long it takes, I’m here, little one. Gramma Molly is here.”

  ECHO’S HAND SHOOK as she picked her most recent photos of Zoe from her computer’s printer tray. State police and FBI scoured the neighborhood and combed every inch of her tiny home and yard. They’d taken her fingerprints as well as Shanna’s and had covered nearly every surface of Zoe’s yellow room with fine black powder in an effort to capture the kidnapper’s fingerprints.

  Rand hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d promised to pull out all the stops on the investigation. Already she’d talked to so many officers and FBI agents that she could no longer tell them apart.

  “Are those the pictures?” Rand crossed the living room and held out a hand.

  She gave him the photos. She pointed to one in which Zoe wore a pair of stretchy yellow pants and a top sprinkled with bears. “She was wearing this outfit.”

  He nodded. “I’ll get these pictures circulating right away.”

  Tears swamped her eyes once again. She couldn’t control it. Whenever she thought of her little girl out there, maybe cold, maybe hungry, without her mommy to keep her safe…

  Rand handed her a tissue.

  She took it, swiping at her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “No need.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not very good at controlling my emotions sometimes.”

  “And you think now’s the time that you’re going to start?” He gave her a gentle smile.

  Just the kind of smile she needed. When she’d first met Rand, she’d been convinced he was the most emotionless man she’d ever met. She didn’t think that anymore. He was reserved, certainly. Tightly controlled. But there was definitely a tender, protective side to him.

  The side that had helped her get through the last few hours. “Have you found anything?”

  “We have blockades set up along all highways leaving town. We’re putting a tap on your phone. With the FBI involved, their Evidence Response Team and Rapid Start Team should speed up analysis of any evidence he left behind as well as helping us check out every lead we can come up with as quickly as possible. The bloodhounds arrived a few minutes ago.”

  She’d seen the dogs through the front window. “Do you really think they can follow Zoe’s scent across water?”

  “Bloodhounds have miraculous noses. If there’s a scent out there to get, they’ll get it.”

  She dragged a breath into her lungs. She might not be feeling better—that would only happen once she had Zoe back in her arms—but she was feeling more hopeful. “Thanks.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, Echo. It’s my job.”

  Maybe so. But the way he’d smiled at her, the gentle way he explained all that was going on…she couldn’t help think there was something more.

  Or maybe she just needed something more right now. Someone she could trust. “What about the Amber Alert?”

  Rand gestured to the stack of photographs and description of Zoe’s clothing that he’d had her write out. “That’s partly what this is for. She’ll also be listed with the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. And we already have a bulletin out to law enforcement agencies all around the Chesapeake Bay area. We’ll find her, Echo. We’ll get her back.”

  Her legs trembled, with relief, with hope, or just plain fear for Zoe, she didn’t know. She lowered herself onto the couch and grasped her thighs with her hands. “I hate feeling so out of control. Like I can’t do anything.”

  “You are doing something, even though it doesn’t feel like it. Answering questions, providing photos, that’s a lot, Echo.”

  The trill of the phone ripped through the living room.

  Echo stared at the cordless receiver lying on the coffee table. A wave of heat washed over her, followed by chilling cold. “Do you think it’s him? Do you think it’s the kidnapper?”

  “It could be.” Rand waved an arm to an officer across the room. “Do we have a trap-and-trace on this phone yet?”

  The officer shook his head.

  “I have Caller ID.” Echo said, her mind finally clicking.

  “That will have to do.” Rand n
odded to the phone. “Go ahead.”

  She picked up the phone, trying hard to keep her hand from shaking. Taking a deep breath, she turned it on and held it to her ear, tilting the handset out so Rand could listen. “Hello?”

  Rand sat on the couch next to Echo. He leaned toward her, his ear close to the phone.

  “I don’t want to hurt the baby.” The voice sounded strange, electronically altered.

  Echo gripped the phone hard enough to make the plastic casing creak. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “I don’t want anything from you. I want your brother.”

  “Bray?”

  “Tell him to meet me.”

  “I don’t know where he is.”

  The caller’s breathing rasped in her ear, but he said nothing.

  Her throat constricted. Did he believe her? What was he thinking? What was he going to do? “Please.”

  “Find your brother, because I’ll only give the baby to him.”

  The line went dead.

  “What’s the number?” Rand barked to an FBI agent.

  Echo held her breath. If they had a number, they could trace it to the caller, couldn’t they? They could find Zoe.

  “Looks like a cell phone.”

  Rand let out a breath.

  Echo searched his face. “What? They got a number, isn’t that good?”

  “I’m betting it’s a disposable cell. Anyone who is careful enough to disguise his voice is careful enough not to call on his own cell. But we’ll be sure to check it out.”

  Tears surged again, but she blinked them back. She set the phone on the table and gripped her thighs. “He wants Bray. Why?”

  “I was afraid of this.”

  “Afraid of what?”

  “Whatever your brother has gotten himself into, now you’re being dragged in along with him.”

  She would never believe Bray did something illegal that caused this to happen. He was a victim, maybe a witness, but that was it. Still, Rand was right about one thing. She was involved. Zoe was involved. And somehow Echo had to figure out how to get more than Bray out of this mess now. “What am I going to do?”