Читать книгу New Year Heroes: The Sheriff's Secretary / Veiled Intentions / Juror No. 7 - Carla Cassidy, Delores Fossen - Страница 11

Lucas couldn’t tell where the gunshot had come from, but he heard the ping as the bullet hit the tomb behind where they had just been standing.

His first impulse was to protect Mariah, and as he lay on top of her, adrenaline pumped through him. He tightened his hold on his gun as he scanned the area.

Dammit, there were too many shadows where a shooter could hide, too many trees and tombs for him to discern the hint of a person. The shot had caused a cessation to the insect noise, but as the minutes ticked by the cacophony of bugs resumed.

As time passed, in the back of his mind he became more aware of Mariah. Her hand grasped the front of his shirt, as if she was afraid he might jump up and run away. Her heartbeat raced against his own, and despite the circumstances, he couldn’t help but notice the softness of her lush curves under his body.

Irritated by his lapse in concentration, he rose to a crouch above her. “Stay here and stay down,” he commanded. “I’m going to take a look around.”

She tightened her grip on his shirt and in the faint moonlight her eyes shone more silver than blue. “Be careful. He could still be out there.” She reluctantly released her hold on him.

Still in a low crouch, Lucas moved away from her, toward the area where he thought the shot might have come from. He didn’t think the shooter was still there.

In fact, he didn’t think the shooter was still in the cemetery. It was a gut feeling coupled with the knowledge that if the man had wanted to kill one of them, he could have with that single shot.

He might have missed because he was a terrible shot, but Lucas didn’t think so. He thought the bullet had missed them because it was just another game the kidnapper was playing. He was taking pleasure in terrorizing them.

He straightened to his full height, making himself an easy target, but no other shots were fired. He walked back to where Mariah was still lying on the ground.

“I think he’s gone.” He held out a hand to help her up.

“Are you sure?” She didn’t move from her prone position.

“As sure as I can be. If he wanted to hurt us, he could have shot us at any time while we were searching the area.” He grimaced. “I think that shot was just a playful reminder that we aren’t the ones in charge of this game.”

She slipped her small hand in his and he pulled her up. “They aren’t here, are they? Billy and Jenny aren’t here and that clue was just part of his stupid game.”

He nodded. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

It was a long walk back to the car. Lucas kept his gun ready and every muscle tense as he watched for danger that didn’t come.

They got into the car and he started the engine, immediately turning on the air conditioner to relieve the sweltering heat and humidity.

As he pulled out of the cemetery, neither of them said a word. The adrenaline that had surged inside him eased away, leaving him not only exhausted but also defenseless against the dark thoughts in his mind.

Jenny. Pain seared through him as he thought of his sister. He’d spent all his adult life trying to protect her, both from herself and from others. He’d tried to guide her, to make her better than she was, better than the mother who had given her life.

“Are you okay?” Mariah’s soft, weary voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“As okay as you are,” he replied.

“Then you aren’t okay,” she said with a surprising touch of dry humor.

“No, I’m not,” he agreed. “I’m frustrated and worried and I don’t think this is about a ransom anymore.”

“Then what is it about?” she asked.

Lucas frowned and tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “I think it’s personal. I think the perpetrator wants one of us to be afraid, to suffer.”

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Then he’s succeeded.”

Those were the last words spoken for the remainder of the drive home. When they arrived at her place, the first thing Lucas did was check the phone messages as Mariah got them each a bottle of water from the fridge.

The first message was from Mayor Richard Welch. “Lucas, I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’ve sent your men home, but Billy and Jenny are still missing. I hope you know what you’re doing. I need to be updated and maybe we need to put our heads together to see what’s the best way to deal with this situation. The public deserves to know what’s going on in this community.”

Lucas puffed out a sigh. “I wish he’d spend his time governing the town instead of trying to govern me.”

Mariah sank into a seat at the table, her weariness evident in the slump of her shoulders and the hollowness of her eyes. “He’s just trying to be helpful.” She unscrewed the lid on her water and took a long, deep drink.

“It would be helpful if he’d just leave me to the job of upholding the law.”

The next three messages were from neighbors, offering to cook, offering to help. Another two were from reporters looking for an interview. The next message shot a new burst of adrenaline through Lucas.

“Touching scene in the cemetery.” The familiar voice filled the room. “Is she consoling you, or are you consoling her?” The sound of insects was background noise. “A minute ago I stood so close to you both that I could see the sweat on Lucas’s forehead and I could smell that flowery perfume that Mariah wears.”

Mariah jumped as the sound of a shot filled the room. The sound was followed by a low laugh. “I could have killed you just now,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.”

The line went dead.

Mariah released a loud gasp. “He was watching us as we searched. He was there all along.” Emotion choked her voice and she backhanded her water bottle off the table, unmindful of the water that spilled across the floor. She jumped up, her eyes wild. “What kind of person does something like this? What kind of monster is he?”

“I don’t know.” But there were things Lucas needed to do, and with that in mind he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in the number at the sheriff’s office.

“Ben, first thing in the morning I need you to check out the cemetery for me. Somebody took a shot at Mariah and me out there tonight. I want you to see if you can locate the bullet.” He quickly explained to his deputy where they had been standing when the gun had been fired and where he thought Ben would find the bullet. It would at least tell them what kind of gun it came from.

The next call he made was to Ed Maylor. “Ed, did I wake you?”

“Nah, I was just sitting here watching the boob tube. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you could do me a favor. Would you run by my place and tell Marquette to give you my overnight bag and a couple of clean uniforms, then meet me at the station with them?” He looked at Mariah, who stood with her back to him as she stared out the window into the night. “I’m going to be here at Mariah’s until this is resolved.”

“Sure. When do you want to meet?”

“An hour.”

The last call was to Deputy Louis DuBois. “Where are you, Louis?” he asked when the man answered his cell phone.

There was a long pause. “I’m in my car between Magnolia and Main. Uh, I’m looking for Phil Ribideaux.”

“What do you mean you’re looking for him?” Lucas asked.

“Uh, I seem to have lost him.”

Lucas closed his eyes and squeezed the phone more tightly against his ear. “What do you mean you lost him?”

“I’m sorry, Lucas, but he got into that little sports car of his and he must have seen me behind him because he took off around a couple of corners and was gone.”

“How long has it been since you had him in visual contact?” Lucas asked.

“At least an hour,” Louis confessed. “I’m heading toward his house now to see if he’s returned there.”

“Keep me posted.” Lucas clicked off and muttered a curse.

Mariah turned to face him. “What’s happened?”

“I had Louis following Phil Ribideaux, and apparently in the past hour he lost him.”

She leaned against the wall and brushed a strand of her unruly curly hair away from her face. “An hour. That means it’s possible it was Phil Ribideaux who was in the cemetery.”

“It’s also possible it was a dozen other people,” Lucas replied. “In truth, I can’t imagine Phillip Ribideaux having the imagination or the balls to pull something like this off.” He pulled his keys from his pocket. “Look, I need to go down to the station. Will you be okay alone for a little while?”

Her gaze went to the telephone. “What if he calls again?”

“I don’t think he will, at least not again tonight. I think he’s had his fun for now.” He frowned. Funny … all the people who had shown up that morning had been well-meaning neighbors, but there had been no phone calls, no appearance of anyone who seemed to be Mariah’s close friend. “Is there somebody I can call to be here with you? Maybe a good friend?”

She shook her head. “Jenny was becoming a good friend, but other than her I have no close friends here,” she replied. “Between my job and Billy, there hasn’t been time for fostering any real friendships.” She rubbed her left wrist. “Besides, I’m a private person. Friends want to know where you come from and where you’re going. I didn’t want to talk about the first and I don’t have answers for the second.”

She turned back to face the window. “Go do whatever it is you need to do. I’ll be fine here.”

She might be fine, but he was an emotional wreck as he drove to his office. Despite the lateness of the hour, he’d called Wally and told him to gather the deputies for a briefing. He also wanted to coordinate with Agent Kessler.

As he drove, his head filled with thoughts of Jenny. He’d clung to the perverse hope that somehow she was behind her own disappearance, that she wasn’t in serious danger other than getting a butt-chewing from him when she finally showed up.

But as they’d walked the cemetery, he’d realized Mariah was right. Jenny might not mind making him worry himself sick, but she’d never do something like this to Mariah. She’d never keep Billy away from his mother.

However, it was possible that Jenny’s bad choices in friends and relationships had put her in this position. Remy Troulous was one of those bad choices. What the hell had she been doing with him? And where the hell was Remy Troulous now?

Lucas knew it was useless to search for the man. He was like a swamp rat, able to scurry through darkness and hide in any number of holes. He wouldn’t be found unless he wanted to be, and there was no way to know when he’d decide to make an appearance.

Did Remy have anything to do with this? Or was it possible Phil Ribideaux was behind it? And what about the mysterious Frank Landers? The questions served no purpose other than to give him a headache and intensify his weariness.

He was going to have to get some sleep. He was running on empty and there was no way he could be sharp and focused, either physically or mentally, without rest.

The sheriff’s office was in a building smack-dab in the middle of Main Street. He parked in the space allotted to him, then went inside where his deputies and the FBI agent awaited.

They all looked as tired as he felt. It didn’t take long for him to fill them in on what had happened at the cemetery, then listen to each of them report on what they’d been doing in the past few hours. None of them had anything substantial to report.

The Shreveport authorities had still been unable to locate Frank Landers, Remy Troulous was missing in action, as was Phil Ribideaux. Further interrogations of Mariah’s neighbors had yielded nothing, and by the time Lucas left the office with his overnight bag and clean clothes in hand, he carried with him an overwhelming sense of frustration.

The first forty-eight hours after a crime was committed were crucial, and Lucas was aware that they knew little more than they had in the first hours after Billy and Jenny had disappeared. He and his men were doing everything they could to find Jenny and Billy, but at the moment the kidnapper was definitely in charge.

Eventually he would make a mistake. Lucas had no doubt about that. The phone calls told Lucas that the kidnapper wanted to brag, needed to connect, and eventually he’d make a mistake. But until that happened Lucas could only react, and he hated not being in control.

He told his deputies that he would stay at Mariah’s house, since the kidnapper was calling on her home phone. He would be the only law enforcement agent there. For now, he was playing by the kidnapper’s rules. He and his deputies would stay in touch by phone and continue to meet at regular intervals at the office.

Although Conja Creek wasn’t a hotbed of criminal activity, they still had to contend with the usual crimes that occurred on a regular basis. He put Ed Maylor in charge of coordinating with the citizens who wanted to help find Jenny and Billy and put Wally in charge of the office while Lucas stayed at Mariah’s. Agent Kessler would coordinate with the state police and continue to work with the deputies to interview and assess the situation.

Kessler indicated that he was more than willing to call in several more agents, but Lucas feared the wrath of the kidnapper if too many law enforcement agents appeared in town. He and Kessler agreed that for the short term everything would remain status quo.

When he arrived back at Mariah’s, he walked through the front door and was met with silence. He dropped his bag and his clothes on the sofa, then went in search of Mariah.

He found her in Billy’s room, curled up in a fetal position on the bed. She clutched her son’s yellow-and-navy pajamas to her chest, and his heart clenched at the sight.

Her sleep was obviously deep, for she didn’t move as he approached her. She must have showered after he left, and changed her clothes, for she now wore a pair of jogging pants and a different T-shirt.

For a long moment he stood and watched her, his heart clenching once again as he saw the dark shadows beneath her long lashes, the faint crease that rode her brow, as if even sleep hadn’t offered her the escape she needed.

He wanted to curl up beside her in the bed, take her into his arms and hold her and fill his head with the sweet scent of her. The desire shocked him. With all that was going on, how was it possible that desire managed to rear its unwelcome head?

Maybe because it was a familiar, known emotion as opposed to the unfamiliar torment of fear that rocked through him as his heart cried his sister’s name. But, Mariah Harrington had touched him in places he hadn’t been touched in a very long time.

Her strength amazed him, her courage awed him and the secrets he sensed she had from her past intrigued him. She was like no other woman he had encountered in a very long time.

He spied a navy afghan folded over the chair at the desk and he grabbed it and gently laid it over her. The house was cool and he wanted to do something, anything that felt like taking care of her.

He was grateful that she was asleep, glad that he wouldn’t have to tell her the instructions he’d given his deputies. He left the bedroom and went into the kitchen, where he stood at the window and stared into the black of night.

This was the second night. Almost forty-eight hours had passed since Jenny and Billy had been taken. What were the odds that somebody had kidnapped them and was keeping them alive in a secret place here in Conja Creek? He figured slim to none.

That’s why he was glad Mariah was sleeping. So he wouldn’t have to tell her that he suspected they were now looking for Jenny’s and Billy’s bodies.

NIGHT HAD FALLEN AGAIN, and with it the terror of the darkness, the horror of the unknown. Jenny cradled Billy’s head in her lap, worried as she heard the sound of his labored breathing.

He was asleep, but it was a fitful rest, and she could only guess at the bad dreams a frightened eight-year-old little boy might suffer.

His breathing worried her. She knew how bad Billy’s asthma could get. Twice in the couple of months she’d lived with Mariah, he’d had to be rushed to the emergency room because his nebulizer hadn’t been able to give him the relief he’d needed.

Although it wasn’t critical yet, she feared what another day away from his mommy, away from his home might bring. As his stress and fear level rose, so did his breathing issues.

Dawn had brought a new level of understanding to Jenny and a heightened sense of simmering fear.

As light had crept in around the cracks in the boards of the structure where they were being held, she’d been able to see that it was a small room built with new, strong wood. The nails—thick, big spikes—were driven in deep and sound.

Besides the mattress on the floor, in one corner was a portable potty and in the other corner was a wooden shelf filled with nonperishable food. There were boxes of breakfast bars and crackers, beef jerky and canned goods with pop lids. Beneath the shelf were cases of bottled water.

It was the plethora of food that frightened her more than anything. Whoever had them had prepared for them to be here a long time. Why? What in God’s name could they want?

She racked her brain, trying to figure out who would want to kidnap them and why. But she had no answers. It might be about money. Certainly Lucas could afford to pay a huge ransom for their release. In fact, Jenny had her own trust fund that contained enough to make a kidnapper happy for the rest of his life.

When Billy had awakened, they’d both screamed for help, hoping somebody would hear and come to rescue them. But it was as if they were yelling at the bottom of the ocean. Nobody replied. Nobody came.

When they’d exhausted themselves screaming, she’d spent most of the rest of the day examining their surroundings, trying to find a weakness she could exploit to get them out of there. But there didn’t seem to be any way out.

She’d finally given up and had played games with Billy. They’d played I Spy and an alphabet game, then had played Rock, Paper, Scissors until she thought she’d go mad.

As dusk had approached and Billy’s anxiety began to increase, Jenny had tried to entertain him by talking about the animals who lived in the swamps. Billy loved to learn, and Jenny had once thought about being a teacher. But when she’d gone to college, she’d taken business instead of education classes, because Lucas had thought that would be a smarter choice.

Tears now filled her eyes as she thought of her older brother. He could be bossy and a know-it-all, but she adored him. He’d been her hero for most of her life, fixing messes she made and taking care of her.

Lately she’d been angry with him, wanting him to back off and let her live her own life. She wanted to make her own choices and figure things out on her own, but sometimes she felt so stupid.

She leaned her head back against the wooden wall and stroked her fingers through Billy’s hair. She’d always loved kids, and Billy had found a special place in her heart.

He coughed and she recognized the tight bark as his asthma cough. She closed her eyes, terror once again filling her.

Billy needed to get out of here before his breathing grew worse. But she couldn’t physically break through the wooden walls that kept them prisoner. She couldn’t even try to negotiate with their kidnapper because, since the moment they had awakened from whatever had knocked them out, they had been utterly alone.

She’d been on the verge of tears all day, but had refused to allow them to fall because she knew it would upset Billy. But now, in the darkness and with Billy asleep, tears trickled down her cheeks. She must have done something stupid, something to put herself at risk. She wasn’t sure what it had been, but somehow this had to be her fault.

She needed her brother to find them. She needed Lucas to be her hero one last time, then she swore to herself that she’d never do anything stupid again.