Her eyelids fluttered, and opened. She stared at her mother for a full second. Then her eyes grew wider than Sara had ever seen them, and she threw open her arms and wrapped them around Sara’s neck.
“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!”
Sara hugged her daughter tight. “It’s me, sweetie. It’s me.”
“We gotta go,” Diana said.
Sara remained motionless, wanting to remember this moment for the rest of her life. Then she nodded, and carried Emily out the door.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
AS SARA AND Diana ran from the room, Logan checked his watch. They were almost out of time.
He nodded at Rachel and Kurt, and said to Richard, “Keep an eye on them.”
He made a quick circuit of the formal living room, dining room, and family room, turning off all the lights and the TV. Reggie, apparently deciding to be his shadow, followed happily behind.
“Why are you doing that?” Kurt called out.
“He’s trying to save your life,” Richard said.
Ignoring both men, Logan stepped over to a window that faced the street and pulled back the curtain. At the moment, it was quiet, no cars in either direction as far as he could see, but he knew that wouldn’t last long.
He heard footsteps and turned to see Sara and Diana walk back into the entryway. Emily was in Sara’s arms, hugging her.
“Can I see her?” Richard asked.
Logan realized this must have been the first time Sara’s brother ever laid eyes on his niece. Diana, he knew, had seen her earlier that summer when she visited Sara in Riverside. But as wonderful as that moment should be, this wasn’t the time.
“You need to go, now!” Logan ordered.
Richard looked annoyed, but he turned from his sisters and opened the front door.
As the others moved to follow him, Rachel reached out to grab Emily from Sara. “You’re not taking her anywhere.”
“You all go!” Logan yelled.
Emily started to cry.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Sara said. “It’s okay.”
“Go, go!” Logan said.
“Go where?” Kurt asked.
“I don’t care,” Logan said. “Away.”
“Why?”
Both Richard and Diana had already disappeared outside, but just as suddenly, they came running back in.
“Car,” Diana said as Richard shut the door.
Logan moved back to the window.
A car was heading down the road toward the house.
“Keep going,” he whispered. “Keep going.”
But his mojo wasn’t working this time, and the vehicle started to slow.
“Out the back,” he said quickly. “Go over the fence to the next yard!”
“What are you taking about?” Kurt said. “I’m not going over any fence. You’re going to tell us what’s going on, and you’re going to tell us now.”
“Go, dammit, go!” Logan said. He pulled out his phone and dialed Dev.
No one seemed to move. Instead everyone started arguing.
Outside, the car was only half a block away, its speed at a near crawl now.
“Logan?” Dev said.
“Where are you?”
“I’m in Simi. Maybe five minutes away.”
Five minutes was too long. “I’m in the house. It appears the others are just pulling up.”
“I’ll get there as quickly as I can.”
Logan hung up, and looked back. Everyone was still there.
“Do you all not get it? There is only one person in this house the people who just got here want alive, and it’s not any of you, or me.” He glanced at Emily, then scanned the others. “Get the hell out of here now!”
They started to move. Even Rachel’s husband seemed shaken enough not to put up a fight.
Logan returned his attention to the street. The car was only one house away now, angling for a section of the curb directly behind the car Logan and the others had arrived in. As soon as it parked, its lights went out, but the doors remained closed.
Logan looked down the street, wondering if they might be waiting for reinforcements, but, as of now, there were no other cars heading this way.
He heard one of the sedan’s doors open, and looked back at it.
Not one door, but two. Dr. Paskota exited the front passenger side, while one of her goons climbed out of the backseat. Logan could see three shadowy forms still inside—Alan and Harp in the back, and a final man still behind the wheel.
Logan clearly saw what he needed to do. Divide and conquer.
He stepped over to the front door. Leaving the deadbolt undone, he turned the knob lock just enough so that it was partially engaged, then looked through the peephole to be sure the woman and her friend were definitely heading his way.
They were.
Logan moved quietly through the house, with Reggie lumbering slowly behind him.
“Scoot, scoot,” he said to the dog, pushing him through the open sliding glass door, and following right behind.
As soon as they were outside, he shut the door and took a quick look at the back fence. Richard was trying to help Kurt get over the wall, but it was obviously a struggle. The others were gone.
“You guys need to hurry,” Logan whispered. He patted Reggie on the head. “Come on.”
With a hand on the dog’s collar, he guided Reggie along the back of the house into his pen, and closed the wire gate.
“Be a good boy and stay quiet, okay?”
Reggie licked his hand and chuffed once.
“No, no. Quiet,” Logan said, holding his finger to his mouth.
This time the dog sat down.
“Good boy. We’ll be back for you soon.”
Hoping he was right, he stepped to the fence and eased himself over the top.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
AS HARP WATCHED the woman and Clausen walk across the street toward the house, he’d never felt so hopeless and frustrated in his life. There had to be something he could do. If they could just overpower the guy who’d been left with them—Clausen called him Markle—then maybe they could get help, but he wouldn’t be able to do that alone, and Alan was barely holding it together. He kept looking at the house, then out the front window, then back at the house, his hands shaking as if he were freezing to death.
Paskota and Clausen were at the door of the house now. The place was dark. Harp hoped that meant no one was home, but knew it was just as likely whoever lived there had gone to bed early. He couldn’t hear if they knocked or not, but after a few moments, the door eased open, and they stepped inside.
Harp turned his head just enough so he could see out the back window. No cars coming. Not that he would have known what to do even if one headed their way.
He gave Alan a nudge and smiled, trying to convey that it would all be okay. Alan wasn’t buying it. Quite frankly, Harp wouldn’t have, either, in his shoes.
For God’s sake, there had to be something he could do. Anything. He must—
The driver’s door flew open. As Markle turned, a hand reached in, grabbed his arm, and yanked him outside.
Something metallic clattered to the ground, then—
Swack. Swack.
Swack.
Alan looked at Harp, his eyes wide. Harp couldn’t see his own face, but knew he was wearing a similar expression.
Something scraped along the road, rounding the car.
Then silence.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
LOGAN KNEW HE couldn’t count on Dr. Paskota and the man with her staying in the house for more than two minutes.
Keeping as close to the neighboring home as possible, he jogged to the sidewalk, went down a couple of houses before crossing the street, and worked his way back to the car his father and Alan were being held in.
He was only one house away when the shadow of a man passed around the back of the car and walked up to the driver’s door.
Logan ducked down, thinking that the reinforcements
he’d worried about had arrived.
Then suddenly the shadow pulled the door open and hauled out the man sitting behind the wheel. The driver’s arms flailed as he tried to bring his gun around, but his assailant wrenched it away and tossed it to the ground.
Two quick punches, then a third, and the driver slumped motionless on the asphalt. The shadow immediately grabbed the guy by the shoulders and hauled him around the back of the car. As he yanked him up onto the grass that lined the curb, a second shadow peeled away from the hedge in front of the nearby house and joined him.
Kneeling beside the unconscious man, the face of one of the shadows moved into the bit of dome light filtering through the car’s window.
Dev.
Logan extracted himself from his hiding place, ran out and picked up the suppressor-enhanced gun off the street.
As he joined the others at the curb, Dev looked at him and smiled. “Figured that was you,” he whispered.
“Hey, Logan.” The second shadow was Pep.
“Where’d you guys come from?” he asked.
“Found them parked just up the street around the corner,” Dev whispered. “Thought we’d take advantage of the other two going inside. Guess you had the same idea. Where’s everyone else?”
“Safe,” Logan said. “I hope.”
“Is this the son of a bitch who ambushed me?” Pep asked, looking down at the driver.
“Um, we’ll have to talk about that later.” Logan looked at the car and saw that Harp and Alan were still inside, looking around nervously. “Didn’t you tell them to get out?”
“I didn’t really have time to say anything,” Dev said.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
SOMEONE WAS APPROACHING the car again. Harp had no idea what was going on, so he braced himself, preparing for the worst. The door next to Alan opened.
“You guys just going to stay there? Or are you coming out?”
It was Logan.
Without another thought, Harp pushed Alan out the back and crawled out after him, pausing only long enough to pick up the copy of Lost Horizon that had been pushed partway under the front passenger seat. The book had gone to war, come home with Len, hung around for another sixty-plus years, and it had been damaged more in the last few days than in any of that time before. It hurt him to see it so, but he was glad to be holding it again.
He was even gladder to see his son, and gave him a big hug.
“Not a lot of time right now, Dad,” Logan said.
Harp pulled back. “I thought you were still in Arizona.”
Logan ushered both of them onto the sidewalk. “I heard the real action was in Simi Valley.”
“Evening, Mr. Harper,” Pep said.
“Hey, Harp,” Dev chimed in.
“Dev. Pep,” Harp said, his surprise continuing. Then he noticed Markle’s body on the ground. “Is he dead?” He turned to his son. “Did you kill him?”
“What makes you think I did it?” Logan asked. He pointed at Dev.
“Still alive,” Dev said.
Alan shook himself, his eyes refocusing. He looked at Logan and Harp, then turned and headed for the house.
Logan reached out and grabbed him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“They’re inside getting Emily. I’ve got to stop them.”
“They may be inside, but they’re not getting Emily.”
“What?”
“She’s not there.”
“Where is she?”
“With your sister and Sara.”
“Sara?” Alan all but shouted.
“Quiet!” Logan said. He pointed up the street. “I need you two to go get Barney. He’s in Dev’s Jeep around the corner. Dad, when you get there, call Callie. Tell her to call the Simi Valley Police and that FBI contact of hers she mentioned when she told us about Alan. Get them here now. Once you’ve done that, come back here and the three of you watch this guy. I don’t want him wandering off. But be careful. Don’t let anyone else see you.”
“What are you going to do?”
“What do you think?”
Harp frowned but said nothing.
“I’m coming with you,” Alan said.
“No, you’re not. You’ll get us killed.”
“I won’t.”
“You will. Trust me. Now get going!”
Harp grabbed Alan by the arm. “Come on. They know what they’re doing.”
Alan didn’t look happy, but he finally allowed himself to be led away.
When they reached the corner, Harp looked back. Logan and the others were gone.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
ERICA WATCHED AS Clausen pulled out a set of lock picks and set to work on the door.
“Forgot to lock their deadbolt,” Clausen whispered with a smile. He worked the bottom lock for a few seconds before it gave in. “Too much faith in crappy hardware.”
He eased open the door wide enough for them to enter, then drew his gun and stepped inside. Erica followed.
There was a smell in the air, something musty, but not old. Like a…dog. Yes, that was it. The smell of a dog. That could be a problem. If the animal sensed their presence, it could start barking and expose them, making their job harder. Erica put a hand on Clausen’s back.
“Hold on,” she mouthed.
They held their position for half a minute, but the sound of claws running across the floor never materialized. With any luck, the dog was asleep in one of the bedrooms, or, God willing, outside.
They did quick checks of the living room, kitchen, and family room, noting dishes in the sink from a meal eaten not too long ago. Of special interest was the child’s sippy cup. It wasn’t proof that the girl was still here, but in Erica’s mind, there was no doubt now that this was where she had been hiding.
They approached the hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping just outside it to listen.
All quiet. Too quiet.
Was no one at home? Where would they have gone? They’d obviously eaten dinner here, and if they were at all responsible, they wouldn’t be out too late with a two-year-old.
She looked into the hallway. It had a hardwood floor, partially covered by a carpet runner down the middle. The hall veered to the left, then made a ninety-degree right turn, disappearing from view. The only door visible led to a bathroom a few feet down.
Stepping all the way onto the runner, she carefully transferred her weight to minimize any sound of creaking floorboards. She repeated the process step by step down the hallway and around the corner.
There were three doors along the new section. When she reached the first, she looked in. Bedroom. It looked like a boy’s room, though clean and tidy, as if the kid who used it hadn’t been home for a while.
The bedroom at the end of the hall was clearly the master. Even the small portion Erica could see was nearly twice as wide as the room she’d just checked. If the girl was here, her bet was that she was in the room across the hall and down a little ways from where Erica was standing.
She motioned for Clausen to check the master while she checked the other room. With a nod, he moved past her down the hall.
The curtains of the last bedroom were closed, so as Erica walked in, it was hard to see much of anything. She activated the screen of her phone and swept it across the room like a flashlight.
There was a bed, a dresser, and some toys on the floor. Though the bed was unoccupied, its covers were pulled back. It was apparent from how the blankets were disturbed that whoever had been in the bed had not been very tall. A toddler, at best.
She put her hand on the sheet covering the mattress. Warm, but it was a warm night, so that didn’t necessarily mean anything.
Clausen appeared in the doorway. “Empty,” he said, not bothering to even whisper. “No one’s home.”
“Then where the hell are they?” she asked.
“Movies, maybe. Out to dinner.”
“They had dinner.” Erica checked her watch. It was going on eight thirty. “And I
doubt they would have taken a kid that age out to a movie at this time of night.”
Clausen shrugged. “Maybe they just went for some ice cream or something.”
“Maybe.” Wherever they’d gone, she was confident they’d return soon. “We’ll wait.”
Though the ultimate satisfaction of closing this problem was delayed, Erica was actually feeling pretty good. The girl was close. Soon she’d have possession of her, and it would all be over.
“Go get Markle and our guests, and bring them in,” she ordered. “We can tie up the two and lock them in the hallway bathroom for now.”
If I can think of a way to stage it, maybe we could even get rid of them here.
As Clausen started to turn down the hallway, there was thud in the backyard, followed almost instantly by a low groan and what sounded like a hushed voice.
“Wait,” Erica whispered.
She went to the window and carefully moved the curtain just enough so she could see out, but spotted nothing unusual.
“The dog?” Clausen suggested.
If it had only been the thud and the groan, perhaps, but Erica was sure she’d heard a human voice, too.
She let the curtain fall back into place. “We need to check.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
“HARP!” BARNEY JUMPED out of the Jeep as Harp and Alan walked up.
Barney held out his hand, but Harp, being in a hugging mood, wrapped his arms around his old friend.
“I…wasn’t sure we’d see you again,” Barney said once they’d separated.
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure you would, either,” Harp confessed.
“What happened? How did they get you?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute. I need your phone first.”
“Uh, sure.” Barney ducked back in and retrieved his cell from the car.
Before he could hand it over, Harp said, “You have Callie’s number, right?”
Every Precious Thing (A Logan Harper Thriller) Page 24