“And no one saw a vehicle pull up and snatch him, yank off his T-shirt, and stick it and the note telling you not to call the police in the newspaper bag?” He didn’t even get on the man about touching anything and ruining potential fingerprints or other DNA. If that had been Blake’s T-shirt, he would have been hard-pressed to follow procedure.
H bowed his head. “I didn’t even hear the fast acceleration as they drove off. Sarah did and she called Jimbo and then me, once she saw the front door was open. Ours is a quiet neighborhood of busy professional people, and the shrubbery up front pretty much blocks the view of the circular part of the driveway.”
Jonas had dealt with incompetence and messier scenarios before, but he could usually flip out his ID and haul in everything the Bureau offered to work around and through that. What with being on leave and trespassing on other agents’ territory, he knew his performance here was going to be mostly about gut feelings and a great deal of bluffing—bluffing the kidnapper or kidnappers, as well as H and his family to keep them convinced that he could pull this off.
Hoping he was right about the phone bugs and the perpetrator’s lack of experience, he drew a deep breath. “Okay, gentlemen, this is what we’re going to do….”
Chapter Twelve
“I’m thinking it’s going to turn out to be a mistake that you called E.D. and told her that you had car trouble and would be staying the night in town,” Jonas told Dylan. “First you plan an impromptu trip to the ranch, but you don’t go with them, citing an attorneys’ conference you had to deal with before leaving town—”
“It isn’t the first time that one of us goes early and the other follows.”
“Yeah, but how often do you then have car trouble? It sounds contrived to me.”
They were following H in his tiny hybrid back to the Freeman residence, keeping their distance so as not to look as if they were together. H was doing better with his driving; the only reason a cop might stop him now was to order him out of the state for operating a vehicle the size of a shoebox.
“I know it sounded risky to you,” Dylan replied. “But it’s the one thing that wouldn’t make E.D. immediately start worrying. My Navigator is five years old and she’s been after me to get a new one. She’s normally quite frugal, but she thinks the thing is starting to look embarrassing for a state Supreme Court judge.”
Jonas relented and shot him an amused look. “Love is a wonderful thing.”
“Yes, it is.”
“But if she finds out the truth…death by a thousand paper cuts with her using your marriage license might be welcome.”
“That’ll never happen.”
“You lied to her. Twice. Believe me, I know what deep water you’re in.”
“What she’ll do is lock herself in the bathroom and cry.”
“Give me a break,” Jonas scoffed.
“She’s very protective of me. I’m her knight in shining armor.”
If Jonas hadn’t caught Dylan’s suddenly over-bright eyes, and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard, he would have bet his friend was trying to pull one over on him. “You’re a lucky man,” he said with satisfaction for his friend—and more than a little envy.
“Amen to that. So how are you doing with Alyx?”
“Before your call, fine. Terrific. Now? I can’t even let myself think about how much damage I’ve done to our relationship.”
“Damn, I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. But there wasn’t time to dream up anything as creative as you did. I simply told her that I had to go and under no circumstances could she try to contact me.”
Dylan grunted. “Smooth, bud, real smooth.”
“I was thinking of you, too. I had to shut her down so that she would freeze to where she wouldn’t call E.D. You should thank me.”
“Forget it. But I might lend Alyx our marriage license to use on you.”
Starting to feel more of a bum than he already did, Jonas crossed his arms over his seat belt and chest. “Could we change the subject to something constructive? Tell me how you and H met?”
“Well, aside from being frugal to where he looks like he shops in his grandfather’s closet, he’s quite the altruist and we both sit on the board of a civic organization that arranges for scholarships for gifted but underprivileged kids. I liked him immediately. Aside from being brilliant, he’s unprepossessing, and there’s a sweetness in his soul that has always made me worry for him a bit.”
“Then why the hell haven’t you told him before that he needed more security?”
“Because I was trying not to meddle. Things seemed to be working for them.”
“We all live in a twenty-first century version of the Wild West, my friend. Optimism is a luxury. Look at how quickly you moved E.D. and the kids out of harm’s way—and you and E.D. are both licensed and skilled with using concealed weapons.”
“Believe me, if any harm comes to that boy, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“None of us will. Just make sure that once this is over he gets help.”
“Consider it done.”
Jonas accepted and moved on. “After I check Mrs. Freeman’s routine regarding service people, I’m going to be asking his housekeeper some pointed questions. You can help by keeping the family out of the kitchen.”
Dylan’s expression went from distressed to pained. “You think she could be involved?”
“I hope not. They seem as trusting of her as you do of Chris at the ranch.”
“If she’s anything close to being as reliable and trustworthy as he is, it’ll take more than me to keep them from trying to throw you out for putting her under your professional microscope.”
“Nothing would please me more than to witness that devotion again.”
Maybe Jonas had said she wasn’t to call him, but that evening as Alyx was in the middle of packing, she decided that didn’t mean she couldn’t call E.D. and pick her brain about this sudden turn of events. Reaching for her cell phone, she patted Grace, who was lying with her back to Alyx, determined to ignore the sight of yet another suitcase. E.D., too, had fallen in love, really in love, at a more mature age. With a college-student daughter and high-school-student son, she’d even borne another child with Dylan. If anyone could read between the lines and tell her what on earth Jonas’s bizarre behavior this morning had meant, she would know.
She hesitated clicking on E.D.’s name in her address book. It was getting late, but then she remembered the time difference, and was delighted when E.D. picked up immediately. But her pleasure was short-lived.
“You’re an answer to a prayer.”
Alyx managed a smile. “It’s nice to be wanted.”
“Good. You can help me stop feeling sorry for myself. We’re supposed to have some quiet family time here at the ranch, and Jonas was to follow the kids and me after he finished up some work in town. Then his SUV acted up. The dealer offered him a rental, but he didn’t want to drive it all the way down here and back again tomorrow to get his vehicle, so he’s spending the night at the house, hoping they’ll live up to their promise and he’ll be here by midmorning. Just last week I was trying to convince him again to trade it in and get a new model. As much as he drives, I can’t bear the thought of him stuck on the road who knows where.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I have confidence that you’ll be able to convince him this time.”
“You’ve got that right. So how are you since we last spoke?”
“Oh, I’m afraid I have a worse case of what you’ve got.”
“Dear me. What’s Jonas done?”
“E.D., he walked out on me this morning and I don’t know what to think about it.”
“He what?”
“I can’t believe it myself, since he’d told me he loved me just an hour before.”
“But that’s wonderful! I knew it would happen. There’s so much fire between you two. It couldn’t all be about sex.”
“I’m beginning to wish it wa
s, and that we had left well enough alone. I hate feeling like this.”
“Tell me all about it,” E.D. crooned. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. But knowing how competitive you two are, I suspect you’re about to tell me that you squabbled.”
“Not really. Oh, he asked me how I felt about him moving to Texas, and he was a bit disgruntled because I didn’t see how that was easily possible since the promotion he’d hoped for didn’t come through. I was trying to figure out what exactly his plan was, only the phone rang and he abruptly left.”
“Without even saying goodbye?”
“He kissed me—right after he ordered me not to call him under any circumstances.”
“How bizarre is that?”
“Exactly.”
“He must have been called back to Washington.”
Alyx had considered that, too, but rejected the idea. “Would they do that when he’s on leave? I haven’t heard anything on the news to suggest a big enough reason.”
“Maybe the government has succeeded in keeping it from the press so far. I wonder if Dylan has heard anything?” E.D. mused. “Bet he knows about Jonas’s promotion.”
“Surely not. Dylan would have told you.”
“Not if he gave his word to keep it quiet, at least for a while.”
“Oh.”
Chuckling, E.D. said, “Now that sounds like you’ve hit a mental roadblock. There are things that spouses have to keep to themselves from time to time.”
“I suppose. Maybe. Okay. I guess I’m simply confused as to why Jonas wouldn’t want me to call, unless he was working, in which case he could always turn off the darned phone.”
“Unless it’s imperative he leaves it on. Just a second.” E.D. cooed at her son then came back on. “Judge Junior was ready to be laid down in his crib.”
“I’m sorry to be bothering you with this,” Alyx sighed.
“Please, you’re not. I’m upset for you—and intrigued. Let me ring my darling husband, and I’ll see if I can pry anything out of him.”
“E.D., you are beyond dear.”
“Call you back.”
“Why don’t they call?”
Sarah Freeman’s gaze would haunt Jonas for a long time after this was over. Her eyes weren’t just red-rimmed, like her husband’s, they were glassy with shock. She was a petite and slender woman who reminded him of a dainty sparrow, easy to overlook on first glance, but who, when observed over time, would prove to possess an appeal for her studiousness and resilience. However, that resilience was fading every minute she was without her firstborn child. Jonas had spent a good while talking to her about her son, her marriage, their life, and he’d been reassured by what he saw and heard. That didn’t make telling her the truth any easier.
“There’s a good possibility that while there are no listening devices in here, chances are they have been watching and saw something they didn’t like,” he told her.
“But H got the checks!”
Indeed he had, and with surprising ease. That troubled Jonas somewhat. Harold Freeman could be the living saint Dylan described, but Jonas knew that far too many people were vastly more human, and now he had questions for, if not suspicions about, the teller who’d served him at the bank.
“It’s getting dark.” Sarah went to the front living-room window and parted the drapes. “Jimbo’s condition makes him chilly even in the summer. If they gave us his T-shirt, what’s he wearing to stay warm?”
It was all Jonas could do not to yank her away from there. “Mrs. Freeman, why don’t you go check on Faith and maybe read her a story? I’m sure she’s troubled by having strangers in the house for so long.” Particularly two strangers wearing guns, even if they were sensitive enough to hide them by pulling their shirttails over their waistbands.
“Yes, that’s a good idea, but…the mall closes in less than two hours.”
Jonas couldn’t stand it anymore and, crossing to her, he gently but firmly moved her from the window and shut the drapes. “I know what time it is, Mrs. Freeman. Please go to your little girl.”
As soon as she did, Jonas gave Dylan a speaking glance and went to the kitchen. He wanted to speak to the Freemans’ housekeeper again.
Loretta Saddler just about had the dinner dishes put away. She had insisted on cooking, but everyone had found it a struggle to eat more than a bite. Her figure advertised that she enjoyed feeding her adopted family. Of average height, she had surprisingly bony arms and legs that she didn’t try to hide with her short-sleeved white blouse and her denim skirt. Her salt-and-pepper hair was sternly brushed and pinned in a bun at her nape. But there was nothing harsh in the way she watched and fretted over those she cared for. In her early fifties, she’d come to the Freemans only months after burying her husband of thirty years. She said it had been a happy marriage, and Jonas suspected she had transferred the devotion she’d felt for her husband to them.
During his earlier questioning, Jonas had learned she had one son, but geography and complacency had turned them into polite strangers. There was a grandson, who had hung around for a while, but always with a hardship story and his hand out. The last she’d heard, he had joined the army and was deployed overseas.
“Agent Hunter,” she said upon spotting him. “I’ve made a fresh pot of coffee. Would you care for a cup?”
“Jonas,” he reminded her for the third time. He eyed the back door’s deadbolt lock and the blinds, secured and lowered. “Thank you, that would be great.”
“Mr. H and the judge are in the den?”
“Yes, I’ll ask them if they need refills. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry we didn’t do your dinner more justice.”
“A roast makes delicious leftovers. It’s understandable that no one has an appetite, but it’s my job to make them try to eat.”
She removed her amazingly clean white apron and folded it. Then to Jonas’s surprise she placed it on top of the basket of other neatly stacked white linens waiting to be washed in the laundry room.
He had to ask. “How can you tell what gets washed and what’s clean?”
“Mr. Jonas. Clean things don’t sit in a laundry room. They’re ironed and put in their place.”
He suspected that she was wondering about his upbringing, but at least he’d succeeded in getting her to drop the “Agent” title. With some amusement, he noted that the “Mr. Jonas” made him sound like part of her family.
“You’re very fond of Jimbo. This is hitting you as hard as it is his parents and sister.” He regretted having to push on wounds, but he had yet to determine if she was manipulating him and was actually part of this kidnapping, or whether she was perhaps being wittingly or unwittingly used herself.
“He’s the sweetest boy, gentle and guileless like his father and every bit as smart—you mark my words. Do you know, soon after I started here he saw a news report about conjoined twins being separated, and he sat glued to the television until the program was over. Then as natural as can be he turned to his father and announced that’s what he would do when he grew up. The child was all of four.” Loretta raised her finger to the sky like a prophet. “Faith is a charmer and will steal hearts with her girly-girl ways, but Jimbo is deep water. You’ll rarely hear him laugh, and yet his knowing and tender smiles are like a calming hand on your soul.”
When Jonas first saw Jimbo’s picture, which Sarah Freeman took from a photo album that she stroked like one of her children, he saw a miniature version of his father. He saw a boy who knew he wasn’t destined to be sighed over by girls, and was tolerantly looking at the photographer as though saying, “Do what you have to do.” The gifted photographer had understood and captured an instant where an old soul had peered from the past through the eyes of a child.
“His condition doesn’t frighten him,” Jonas said, speaking half to himself.
“No, but he takes it seriously. On his first day of kindergarten he showed his medical bracelet to every member of his class as well as the teacher. He told them t
hat it was important for them to get used to looking for such things when they came upon people needing help.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting him.”
As soon as she closed the laundry-room door, Loretta grabbed a tissue from a box beside the refrigerator and pressed it to her nose. “God forgive me. When you have a child that only gives you worry, to see a spot of joy like Jimbo taken from those who see the gift he is—well, it shakes your faith.”
No wonder that while still a relatively young woman, she had chosen the Freemans as her extended family rather than another husband, or her own flesh and blood.
The ringing phone snapped Jonas out of his ruminations. “Sorry,” he muttered and rushed to the den.
H sat frozen, staring at the phone. Jonas pointed to the speaker button and held a cautionary hand up in case Sarah or Loretta ran in forgetting that it was imperative they remain quiet.
H did as directed and forced out a croaklike, “Hello?”
“Man, you were told, don’t call the police.”
“I didn’t!”
“Yeah, so what was that black Navigator turning into your street after you today?”
“What?” Wide-eyed with panic, H’s gaze locked with Jonas’s.
Jonas sliced his fingers across his throat shaking his head vehemently, then mouthed, you don’t know.
“M-mister…this street has some fifteen or eighteen houses on it. What are you talking about?”
After a pause, the caller snapped, “You’re lying.”
“I’m not! Please, let me talk to my son. I have the money.”
“I need to think about this.”
“But the mall is closing!”
The caller disconnected.
H dropped the receiver as though it was a snake. From the kitchen doorway, Loretta muffled a sob behind a handful of tissues. Beside him, Sarah stood frozen, with tears pouring down her bloodless face. While he was aware of them all, and Dylan’s worried stare, Jonas replayed what had just occurred in his mind. Slowly he began nodding.
“He’s going to call back.” It didn’t surprise him that everyone gaped at him as though he was an evangelist suddenly speaking in tongues.
The Last Man She'd Marry Page 14