Private Lives

by Karen Young

  Leggett was clearly startled. “Homicide? Surely you don’t think—”

  “That Jesse’s life is in danger? That Austin’s capable of violence? That he’d hurt my daughter if he felt she threatened his plan, whatever the hell it is? Yeah, I think all of the above.” He moved forward, shoving aside a photo of Curtiss and his yacht, and put both hands flat on the lawyer’s desk. “For once, Curtiss,” he said, looking him in the eye, “think of something besides the goddamn firm and whatever embarrassment this might cause you personally. Think of that little girl. She’s your granddaughter, for God’s sake! Think of Jennifer.”

  Leggett’s color was up. He fumbled for a handkerchief and used it to mop his brow. “You can believe this or not, but I have no idea where he is. I’m completely unaware of the details of Austin’s personal life. I certainly didn’t know about a restraining order.” He stared at the handkerchief for a long moment, then looked up at Ryan. “All that said, I can’t believe he would hurt either one of those children.”

  “He would, Curtiss. He’s been abusive to every woman he’s ever had a relationship with and he’ll hurt Jesse or Jennifer or both if he’s pushed to the wall. We just need to find him before he becomes that desperate.”

  “What would he hope to accomplish by kidnapping his own daughter?”

  “If Jesse’s version of Gina’s accident didn’t match his own, he might want her out of the way before she begins to talk again.”

  He frowned. “Begins to talk? What does that mean?”

  “Didn’t you know Jesse has been utterly mute since the accident?”

  “I understood she was unhurt.”

  “Physically unhurt. Emotionally, it’s another story.”

  Leggett turned to gaze at the view of Houston from his windows. “He used to run to his mother when he got in trouble,” the lawyer said, and added with disgust, “she always bailed him out.” He stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket. “I don’t know whether she’d welcome having a little kid dumped on her. She’s been essentially out of his life—and mine, thank God—for years.”

  “If he’s planning to send her off to his mother,” Ryan said, feeling a sick dread building in his belly, “I’m concerned about how Jennifer fits in his plan. She’s certain to be a complication he wasn’t counting on.” He backed away from the desk and prowled the luxurious office, thinking. First it was Jesse who could incriminate him and now Jennifer. Ryan felt cold knowing Austin’s options.

  “I’ll put a call through to his mother,” Curtiss promised. “That would be my best guess. Otherwise, I don’t know what else to tell you, Ryan.”

  Ryan stopped at a table displaying several small framed photographs, most of them taken on Curtiss’s yacht or in the Galveston area. None of the people were recognizable, he realized, and noted vaguely that Austin’s face was missing. Curtiss’s first love was his yacht and his yachting friends, not family.

  Family. Jennifer. God, how terrified she must be right now. And Jesse, whose paranoia about her father had become a real nightmare. Where the hell could he have taken them? Where to start looking for them? And Liz. His heart literally ached for Liz. First losing Gina, then the shock of Louie’s deception. Now Jesse. How much more could she take?

  Elizabeth’s house was overrun with people. From where she stood in her den, she counted eight familiar faces, as well as half a dozen strangers, some in uniform, some not. She pressed a palm to her stomach, still queasy with panic ever since Ryan’s call. It was almost impossible to believe that Austin thought taking Jesse would solve his problems. There was no logic to what he’d done. Even if he returned both children unharmed, he would face dire legal consequences. That left him with no motivation to do the right thing and that was the scariest thought of all.

  Ryan was across the room with Shepherd Steele discussing what to do next. Steele’s expertise was not in kidnapping, but he’d refused to be excluded from the search for Austin on the grounds that his own homicide investigation took priority. He’d introduced two of the men and one woman as an elite team specializing in cases involving missing children. The woman, Sheila Wyckoff, had suggested that Jennifer was at the age to think it was cool to disappear and give her parents a fright. Elizabeth and Ryan both had instantly set her straight. “Not even a remote possibility,” he’d told the woman. Both Lindsay and Megan had agreed.

  “It’s more likely that Jennifer would put herself in harm’s way to try to protect Jesse,” Lindsay had shot back. “What you want to do is find Austin. You locate him, you’ll find both the girls.”

  If we’re not too late.

  What Elizabeth feared most was that Austin was in a mental meltdown. If she was right, the girls were in extreme danger. She watched as Steele beckoned a pair of uniformed police officers over, and gave them instructions. They then turned smartly to leave to carry them out, she assumed. What instructions, she wondered. If anything was known about where Jesse and Jennifer had been taken, she and Ryan would have gone there hours ago. A parent on the run with a child could disappear for years. It happened all the time, according to the media. Also, Jennifer was a complication that Austin couldn’t have counted on. He would be unhappy having to cope with a teenage girl. He had no patience with his own five-year-old.

  Aware of a stinging pain in her palm, she relaxed her hold on the picture frame in her hand. She’d removed the photo of Jesse to be copied by the search team and was clutching the empty frame to her chest. A picture of Jennifer had come from Ryan’s wallet. By now, Steele had informed her, hundreds of law enforcement people were on the lookout for both children.

  Moving to the French doors, she looked out and saw Louie standing on his patio, his solemn gaze fixed on her house and the activity in and out of it. He looked lonely and isolated. Her throat tightened in a rush of emotion and suddenly tears blurred her view of him. In spite of her efforts to put Louie out of her mind, it was almost as impossible as forgetting about the girls.

  Damn you, Louie. You’re supposed to be in the hospital, not fretting over Jesse and Jennifer. Go back inside and lie down.

  Lindsay appeared beside her, handing over a cup of hot tea. “He’s fretting over you, too,” she said, following Elizabeth’s gaze.

  She cupped both hands around the warm mug. “Was I talking to myself?”

  “I guess so, since there’s nobody else within earshot.” Her face went sad. “He’s suffering, Liz. He loves those girls and it must be unbearable to be shut out at such a terrible time.”

  “You can keep him informed,” Elizabeth said bitterly.

  “I can’t acknowledge him until you do. Megan agrees with me.”

  Elizabeth’s face took on an expression of misery and her voice rose in pained bewilderment. “How could he do this to us, Lin? Didn’t he think of the consequences of abandoning his children? And don’t say he wasn’t aware. He appears on my doorstep after nearly twenty years with a new name and no past and we’re supposed to just open our arms and say welcome home, Daddy? How could he expect welcome and forgiveness after perpetuating such a hoax?”

  “It wasn’t a hoax, Liz. You heard what Ryan said. It was a huge criminal investigation and what Louie agreed to do jeopardized his family as well as himself.”

  She sighed when Elizabeth made a disgusted sound. “I can see you’re thinking he wouldn’t be in that pickle if he hadn’t corrupted his position on the bench. Don’t you think one of the reasons he failed to tell you is that he doesn’t come out looking very honorable in all this?” Her hand was moving very gently back and forth on Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Would it hurt so much to give him a chance to explain?”

  Oh, but it did hurt. She’d spent most of her childhood trapped in a bureaucratic nightmare as a result of her father’s duplicity. It was no thanks to him that she’d finally been reunited with what was left of her family. And it was Lindsay who’d been the driving force there, not Louie. Pushing her hair from her face, she let her gaze wander over the wide expanse of lawn to w
here he still stood…waiting. Hardening her heart, she turned away.

  Across the room, Ryan was still in conversation with Steele, who was interrupted by one of the male members of the search team. When they headed toward the front door, Ryan must have sensed her watching, for he turned and saw her, then came straight across the floor to her. He put an arm around her shoulders in a wordless expression of shared anxiety.

  “What are they planning to do?” she asked.

  “There’s an all-points bulletin out on the vehicle. Thank God that Rick managed to get the license number. The rental agency will be able to confirm that it was Austin. Wyckoff’s team will watch for credit card charges and any withdrawals from Austin’s ATM. Curtiss promises to notify us if he hears anything.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “We’ll find them, Liz.”

  “Have you called Jennifer’s mother?” she asked.

  “She doesn’t answer. I think I remember Jen saying something about her leaving on a trip with Gerald, the man she’s been seeing lately.” He turned so that his chin rested against her temple. “California, maybe. L.A.? I don’t remember and if she doesn’t answer her cell, there’s no way I can get in touch with her. I don’t know anything about Gerald except his name. Jennifer—” He cleared his throat. “Jen knows all that stuff.”

  She knew his terror over the children went as deep as hers. “I’m so sorry about this, Ryan. If Jennifer hadn’t been so generous in helping with Jesse, she at least would have been spared this.”

  “Jen gained more from her experience with Jesse than she gave. She would be the first to tell you that.”

  Elizabeth turned her face into his chest. “What can we do, Ryan? I feel so useless just standing around occupying space.”

  “Steele says try to stay calm. And pray. They’re the experts—the team headed by Sheila Wyckoff, not Steele—although he has a stake in the outcome. He wants Austin for the accident.”

  “What will the charge be?”

  “Reckless endangerment, at the very least.”

  “On top of kidnapping now.”

  “Yeah, he’s really messed up this time. But back to Steele. He says let them do their job.” He pushed back a fraction, holding her with his hands on her forearms, forcing her to look into his eyes. “We don’t have much choice but to go along with that. Where would we go to search? Curtiss will call if he hears from Austin. And his mother has promised the same. Both are aware of how thoroughly Austin has screwed up and if they attempt to stonewall, they’ll become accessories to kidnapping. I don’t think Curtiss wants to jeopardize his reputation or his cushy life by shielding Austin this time.”

  “It’s just so difficult to do nothing,” Elizabeth murmured.

  “There is something that I think would be helpful.” His hands moved idly up and down on her arms in a warm, comforting caress.

  “What? I’ll do anything.”

  “It won’t help us find the girls, but it will make you feel better.” Ryan tucked a wave of her auburn hair behind one ear. “I think we should respectfully ask these people to go. Megan’s shift begins early tomorrow morning. Lindsay would stay until she dropped with exhaustion, but she has a job, too. I’ve already sent Rick home. He has school tomorrow. The cops and the search team are getting ready to fan out and do their jobs.”

  “Are you leaving, too?” She felt a pang of dismay, realizing that if Ryan left, she’d be alone. The idea of facing this ordeal alone was terrifying.

  He gave a low near-laugh and bent to kiss a spot at her ear. “No, Liz. You’re stuck with me until we get our children back.”

  She felt color warming her cheeks, but he wouldn’t let her look away. “I haven’t told you the part that’s going to make you feel better,” he said, now stroking her hair. “I think we should go over to Louie’s house and clear the air.” She pushed against him in protest and tried to turn away, but he held her in place. “You need to try to get some rest tonight, but do you really think you can with the thought of Louie all alone, pacing and hurting? He loves Jesse, too.”

  The image he’d painted was difficult to dismiss. She wasn’t a cruel person and the thought of Louie in pain made her feel terrible. Actually, she was feeling a range of conflicting emotion. Everything was out of control. If it weren’t for Ryan, so rocklike in spite of his fear for his own daughter, she might have given in to terror by now. And clearing her house was a welcome idea—even though she knew people were there for the most thoughtful reasons. He was also right, of course, that she should make peace with Louie. Harboring anger would drain precious energy, energy she needed to deal with what might come if Austin wasn’t apprehended soon.

  She stood studying Ryan, admitting to herself the enormous effect he was having on her life. Oddly, she wasn’t fighting the changes anymore. The more she thought about it, the more natural and right it felt to open herself to Ryan and what they might have together. He made her feel cared for…cherished.

  “I wasn’t going to rest tonight,” she told him. “I couldn’t.”

  He smiled. “Then it won’t cost you anything to have a conversation with Louie.”

  Less than an hour later, Elizabeth walked beside Ryan on the well-worn path between her house and Louie’s. “I should warn you that I’m far from accepting everything he’s done no matter what he comes up with by way of an explanation,” she said, brushing past a planting of bright-yellow lantana. “I’m mostly doing as you suggest because being at odds with Louie is something I don’t need right now. Unlike everyone else, I’m not entirely convinced he’s who he says he is.”

  “Your father.”

  “And,” she added, ignoring that, “I’m also concerned that he left the hospital against doctor’s orders. What was he thinking? What were you thinking to help him?”

  Ryan took her elbow and guided her around a water garden stocked with goldfish, a project—like the gazebo—that Louie had installed for Elizabeth and Jesse’s pleasure. “It was a choice of him catching a taxi or driving him myself,” he said. “He was leaving come hell or high water. What would you have done?”

  “He’s a sick man,” she said, adding with exasperation, “He’d collapsed just four hours before that. You could have been more forceful.”

  “Maybe I sympathized with him too much. I know how much I’d hate to be stuck in a hospital.”

  She didn’t have a chance to continue the debate because Archie was suddenly bounding toward them, barking joyously. Beyond him on the patio, Louie began to rise slowly from his chair, holding a small box that had been on his lap. She felt a ridiculous urge to rush over and help him to his feet, to give him a hug. Instead, she stepped onto the patio sedately, unconsciously holding on to Ryan.

  Louie placed the small box on a table beside him. “Lizzie,” he said, searching her face anxiously. “Are you all right? Do you have any word on the children?”

  “No, nothing.” Lighting on the patio was poor. As long as they were outside, she wasn’t able to judge how well—or sick—he looked. She took a breath. “Ryan thought we should talk.” Emphasis on Ryan.

  “Then once again I owe him my thanks.” He gave Ryan a wry smile. “I may never live long enough to pay all my debts to Ryan. He’s surely his father’s son.” He bent and picked up the box. “Shall we go inside?”

  Holding out an arm, he ushered them to the door. Elizabeth had participated substantially in decorating Louie’s place. When he first moved in, he’d accepted everything just as it existed, but after they became friends, he’d asked for her suggestions. The result had been an attractive, comfortable look that a bachelor could easily maintain. At the time, she’d assumed Louie to be a bachelor, she thought with some bitterness now. More dishonesty if what he claimed was true.

  “I thought we could talk in the den,” he said, leading the way.

  “You should be in bed, Louie. You look awful.”

  “I was waiting for you.”

  “How did you know I would come?”

  “I would ha
ve waited until you did, no matter how long it took.” He put the box down on the coffee table and waited until they were both seated on the sofa before lowering himself into a worn recliner. During the redecorating phase, Elizabeth had not been able to persuade him to replace it with something as comfortable, but more stylish.

  “Are you taking the medication the doctor prescribed?”

  He fumbled in his shirt pocket and pulled out a card with pills enclosed in foil. “These are physician’s samples. Megan got ’em for me and Ryan brought ’em over.”

  “You’re taking them according to the doctor’s instructions?”

  “Yes, ma’am. And I’m feeling fine.” He tucked the medicine back in his pocket and said almost humbly, “I’m a hundred percent better now that you’re here, Lizzie.”

  She felt her throat tighten. “Why did you do it, Louie?”

  He sat for half a beat with his hands on both knees, then he leaned over to pick up the box on the coffee table. “Before we talk about that, there’s something in this box I want you to see.” Without opening it, he held it out for her to take.

  Elizabeth hesitated, then took the box. It was cherry wood and beautifully made. Something about it seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place where she had seen it—or one like it—before. Then, there was a brief flash of memory. More déjà vu? Her heart began to beat with a feeling that she couldn’t quite define. Her father had had a box very similar. Matthew Walker had been a great golfer and he’d kept a few golf balls in the box on his desk. She remembered watching him practice putting on the carpet. He would let her collect the balls and put them back in the box. The recollection was so clear that it might have happened yesterday.

  She rubbed a hand over the satiny finish of the cherry wood, pausing when she felt a slight imperfection. Examining it, she saw that it was a burn scar. It had been polished over, but the damage was still visible. Polished brass hardware secured a small catch. Her fingers were unsteady as she worked at the catch. Then, holding her breath, she slowly lifted the lid of the box. She sent a quick, startled glance at Louie. Inside was a collection of letters. She recognized them instantly.