Читать книгу New Year Heroes: The Sheriff's Secretary / Veiled Intentions / Juror No. 7 - Carla Cassidy, Delores Fossen - Страница 15

Mariah awoke as the faint purple spill of dusk filtered through the window. The bed next to her was empty, but the pillow still retained the scent of Lucas’s cologne.

She didn’t feel guilty about making love with him. She didn’t feel guilty about seeking warmth and life when her heart had been so dead. Nor did she have any illusions about what their lovemaking had meant. It had meant absolutely nothing.

Rolling over on her back, she stared up at the ceiling and realized that in some way the lovemaking and the sleep afterward had given her a new strength to survive whatever the rest of the evening might bring.

She got out of bed and dressed in a comfortable pair of gray jogging pants and a T-shirt, then went in search of Lucas. As she reached the hallway, she heard the voice of the kidnapper.

“… by the twisted tree you’ll find a clue.” She froze, heart banging against her rib cage.

The voice stopped, then started again. “… by the twisted tree you’ll find a clue.”

She relaxed a bit as she realized it wasn’t a new call. She followed the sound to the kitchen, where Lucas sat in front of the recording machine with a legal pad in front of him.

She stood in the doorway and watched as he pushed the Play button again. “Where the grass is green and the sky is blue.” He punched the Stop button, then rubbed the center of his forehead with two fingers as he stared down at the legal pad.

“What are you doing?”

He looked up at the sound of her voice, then leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Making notes, listening to the messages, trying to make sense of all this.”

She slid into the chair next to him. “And have you managed to make any sense of it?”

He shook his head. “No.” He leaned back in the chair and released a weary sigh. “I’ll tell you what we know. There was no sign of forced entry, so the odds are good that Jenny knew the kidnapper, that she not only knew him but trusted him enough to open the door to him. If they were taken from here.”

She frowned. “What do you mean? Of course they were taken from here.”

“We don’t know that for sure. We don’t really know where the crime scene is located. For all we know they were taken from the front yard or the park.”

She frowned. He had mentioned that before, but she couldn’t imagine Jenny and Billy being hustled into a car off the street or taken from the park … unless they knew their kidnapper … unless they’d trusted the kidnapper. That thought certainly didn’t make her feel any better.

He flipped through his legal pad. “We also know that the kidnapper is watching us. He was in the cemetery the other night, and he knew that we’d gone to the sheriff’s office this morning. Something else that strikes me is that he doesn’t seem to want dialogue, but instead wants monologues.”

She frowned at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

He leaned forward. “Other than the first call that I got and the one that Wally answered, he hasn’t called to talk to us, but rather to leave messages on the machine. He’s specifically chosen times when he knows we aren’t here. He wants to talk to us, but he doesn’t want us talking to him.”

“So what would happen if we don’t leave here? If we answer every call that comes in instead of letting the machine pick up. Would he stop calling?”

“It would be interesting to see,” he replied.

A flash of anger burned inside her. “He might think he’s playing a game with us, but he’s not. Games have rules and when he says there’s a clue, then there should be a clue.” She released a bitter laugh. “I know it’s ridiculous for me to be mad because a kidnapper doesn’t play by the rules I think are fair.”

Lucas nodded, his forehead still furrowed with a frown. “Our two main suspects are Remy Troulous and Phillip Ribideaux. I know Phillip has been financially cut off by his father.”

“Which might make him desperate enough to kidnap for a ransom,” she said. “He certainly doesn’t have the tools to make a living the right way.”

“But … I keep going back to the same problem. If this is about a ransom, then why take Billy?”

“Because he saw the kidnapper?”

He nodded. “Then we have Frank Landers, whom we can’t locate and have no idea if he has a hand in this. And if he took Billy, then why Jenny?”

“For the same reason. Because she saw him and could identify him.”

“I feel like we’re going in circles,” he said in frustration. He swiped a hand through his dark hair, and for a moment she remembered what those dark, rich strands had felt like between her fingers.

“Let’s take the suspects one at a time,” she said, focusing on the conversation. “We can pinpoint a plausible motive for Phillip. Maybe he’s just entertaining himself before making a ransom demand. What about Remy? Same motive? Money?”

Lucas sighed again. “The longer this thing goes on, the less I think it’s about money.”

“What other motive could Phillip have?” she asked.

“Who knows? I know Jenny was talking a lot of smack about him after they broke up. Maybe he’s trying to teach her a lesson.”

“And what about Remy? If you take away a money motive, then why would he be involved in something like this?” It helped, talking rationally about all the players. It felt constructive, and that was what she needed at the moment.

“Who knows what drives Remy? Certainly he’s always walked a line outside the law. I don’t think he was forthcoming in his answers to me about seeing Jenny, but I can’t imagine what he hopes to gain by a kidnapping.”

“It could be Frank,” Mariah said. “The caller is getting off on tormenting us. That’s definitely Frank’s style.”

Lucas reached out and covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry you had to go through what you did with him.”

The warmth of his hand was welcome, and she offered him a small smile. “I survived. But, as sheriff of this parish, you should know that if I find out he’s responsible for this, I might just kill him.”

“I understand the sentiment,” he replied, and by the darkness in his eyes she knew he felt the same rage that she did.

She pulled her hand from his and leaned back in her chair. “Any other viable suspects?”

“No, and that’s what’s so damned frustrating. Not knowing for sure what the motive might be makes pointing a finger at a viable suspect that much more difficult.” He tapped the recorder. “And what’s driving me crazy is that there’s something about the caller’s voice that’s vaguely familiar, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

This time it was her turn to place her hand over his. “You’re doing everything you can. You’ve got people searching and watching the suspects. There’s only so much you can do with so little to go on.”

He smiled, filling her with a welcome warmth. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be making you feel better.”

“Then who makes you feel better? Why have you remained alone?” During the past couple of days she’d seen a side of Lucas she’d never guessed he would have possessed. It was a tender and gentle side that was in direct contrast to the kind of man she’d believed him to be.

He rose from the table and went to the counter, where the pot of coffee was still warm. He poured himself a cup. “Want one?”

She shook her head, and he returned to the table.

“When my wife left me I decided to devote my life to Jenny. Someplace in the back of my mind, I knew that women would come and go, but that my sister would always need me. She had nobody else. I have my work and I date occasionally, and for the most part that’s been enough for me.”

“But a sister and work can’t be a partner for life,” she replied.

He cast her a wry smile. “Jenny could definitely be a job for life.”

She bit her tongue, not wanting to begin another contentious discussion about his relationship with his sister.

He seemed to read her mind. “You have to understand where we came from. My old man died when Jenny was just a baby and our mother, who was never real maternal, seemed to forget she was a parent.”

He got up from the table as if unable to sit any longer and began to pace the small confines of the room. “Mom was one of those women who thrived on attention and drama. She wasn’t happy unless everything was in an uproar, and she definitely wasn’t happy if she wasn’t with a man.” He paused and stared at the wall just over her head, his eyes dark with memories.

He focused back on Mariah. “Maybe I have been too hard on Jenny. I’ve just been so afraid she’d turn out like our mother. Mom killed herself with drugs. I don’t think she meant to die, but she had just broken up with some loser and I think the suicide was an attempt to get him back. She took pills then called him, but he didn’t believe her and she died.”

“But you’ve accomplished what you wanted. Jenny is nothing like the woman you’ve described,” Mariah said softly. Certainly what he’d just told her helped in her understanding of his relationship with Jenny.

He stared at her for a long moment. “If I’ve been the man you described, if I’ve been emotionally abusive and overbearing to her, my biggest fear now is that I won’t get the chance to change things.”

His voice broke and Mariah rose from her chair and walked to where he stood. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, knowing the torment that was in his heart.

“You’ll get your chance to make things right with Jenny,” she said. “And I’m going to get the chance to see my son grow up.” She said the words fervently, but what frightened her more than anything was she wasn’t sure she believed them anymore.

LUCAS STOOD at the front window, staring into the bright afternoon sunshine. He stretched, attempting to unkink muscles that had been knotted from the moment he’d awakened on the sofa that morning.

He’d spent a miserable night with horrible dreams of Jenny crying out to him and him unable to find her. When Mariah had gotten up, it had been obvious that she’d spent an equally miserable night. Her face had been lined with stress, and exhaustion had placed even darker circles under her eyes.

He wanted to be outside, searching, but he’d determined that the best place for him to be was here, waiting for another phone call. This time the caller wouldn’t talk to a machine, but to him.

Mariah had gone back to her bedroom a little while ago, and Lucas had almost been grateful that she had. Their conversation had been empty and strained today, as if the emotional outbursts from the day before had drained all the energy, all the will from them both.

Enough time had passed, now, that most of the concerned citizens who had come out on that first day to help search would have returned to their jobs, their lives.

Even when a young woman and a little boy were missing, life went on. What if they never found Jenny and Billy? People disappeared every day, and when foul play was involved bodies were often never found.

How would Mariah cope if Billy never came home? She’d survive, because she was a survivor, but her life would never be the same. He felt confident that she wouldn’t remain in Conja Creek, that the town itself and this house in particular would hold too many bad memories for her to stay.

He would miss her. The thought shocked him. In the course of these past days, he’d grown closer to her than he could ever have imagined, closer than he’d been to anyone for a very long time. He felt he knew her better than anyone, but more than that, he felt she knew him.

Lucas recognized he could fall for her if he allowed himself. But he wouldn’t allow it, because even though she’d made love with him, he guessed that the emotions they felt were driven by circumstance.

Sooner or later this case would be resolved one way or another, and with that resolution would come an end to the unusual and intense relationship they’d forged.

As he moved away from the window, he realized it was time for him to build a wall around his emotions where she was concerned. He’d allowed himself to get too close, both in his position as sheriff and as a man.

He returned to the kitchen, where his legal pad awaited him at the table. One thing he and Mariah hadn’t discussed the day before when they’d been going over things was the fact that the kidnapper could be almost anyone.

Just because they had Phillip Ribideaux and Remy Troulous in their sights didn’t mean either man was responsible. Just because she thought this was something her ex-husband might be capable of didn’t mean Frank Landers was responsible.

Who knew what acquaintances Jenny had who might want to do this? Who knew what neighbor or friend might harbor some sick twist in their mind that might have led to this?

The phone rang and Lucas snatched up the receiver, his heart pounding as it had every time the phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is Miranda Thomas with Channel Four news. I was wondering if I could speak with Mariah?”

His heart slowed once again. “She isn’t taking calls.”

“Who am I speaking to?” she asked.

“A ‘no comment’ kind of guy,” he replied, and hung up the receiver.

The calls from the press had been constant, as had the calls from Richard Welch wanting updates. There had still been a few other phone messages, also—well-meaning people who wanted to know what they could do, how they could help. But so far the call Lucas most wanted hadn’t come.

This time there would be no taped monologue. This time there was going to be a dialogue and maybe, just maybe, in having that dialogue Lucas could figure out what about that voice sounded so familiar.

The doorbell rang and he hurried out of the kitchen to the front door. He met Mariah coming down the hallway. She cast him a tired smile as he peeked out the door and took a step back in surprise.

“It’s Remy Troulous,” he said to her as he opened the door. What was he doing here?

Mariah stepped in front of Lucas. “Mr. Troulous, please come in,” she said as if he were an expected, welcome friend.

Remy looked distinctly uncomfortable as he stepped through the door and into the small entry. “Please, come in and sit,” Mariah said, and gestured him into the living room. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, I’m good,” he replied.

Lucas frowned at the young man. “What are you doing here, Remy?”

“I didn’t want to talk to you at the office. My business is nobody’s business, and I didn’t want anyone to hear what I’m going to tell you.” Remy’s eyes gleamed with a hard edge, and he lifted his chin defensively.

“Do you know where my son is? Where Jenny is?” Mariah asked, her voice filled with urgency as she stepped closer to him.

“No.” His gaze softened slightly as he looked at Mariah. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t know anything about what happened to them.” He looked back at Lucas. “You and I have butted heads a lot of times in the past, but even you should know this isn’t my style. I don’t mess with kids.”

“So, what do you have to tell us?” Lucas asked.

“It’s about me and Jenny.”

“What about you and Jenny?” Lucas tried to hang on to his emotions.

“We were sort of seeing each other, but it’s not what you think.” Again Remy’s chin lifted. “It wasn’t anything romantic or nothing like that.”

“Then what was it?” Lucas couldn’t imagine what this man and his sister would have in common, why they would be seeing each other at all.

Remy shoved his hands into his pockets and gazed first at Lucas, then at Mariah, then back to Lucas. “Look, this is something I don’t want anyone else to know. That’s why I came here instead of telling you yesterday. You had that other dude in the room and I wasn’t going to talk about it.”

“Talk about what?” Lucas asked with more than a touch of impatience.

“Jenny was teaching me to read, okay? I know I can’t be a gangbanger forever. I want something better, okay? But I can’t do nothing about my life unless I learn how to read.”

He eyed them belligerently, as if expecting them to mock or belittle his efforts. “Anyway, that’s why I was meeting with her. I just thought you should know so you’ll get off my back ‘cause I had nothing to do with her being missing.” He backed toward the door. “Sorry I can’t help. I liked Jenny a lot and she was nice to me even though she didn’t have to be.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “This is my cell phone number. If I can do anything to help find her, give me a call.”

Lucas could feel Mariah’s disappointment, as rich and deep as his own. He took the piece of paper from Remy but wasn’t finished with his questions. “How did you arrange this with my sister?”

Remy shrugged his narrow shoulders. “I was in the library and looking at books on reading. Jenny was in there, too, and she saw the books I was looking at. We started talking and she offered to help me. I trusted her. I knew she wouldn’t tell nobody, so we met a couple of times here during the day.”

“And you haven’t heard anything on the streets about her disappearance?” Lucas asked.

Remy shook his head. “Nothing. Whoever took them, he ain’t talking to nobody. Look, Jenny was helping me. I wouldn’t have repaid her by doing something like this. I just wanted you to know.” Without another word, Remy shot out of the front door.

Mariah closed the door after him and turned to face Lucas. “Do you believe him?”

“I have absolutely no reason to believe anything that falls out of that man’s mouth, but yeah, I believe him.”

She nodded. “So do I. It’s just the kind of thing Jenny would do. I told you she would have made a great teacher.”

A stab of guilt gored him. He’d been so busy worrying about the kind of woman Jenny might be that he hadn’t taken the time to see what kind of woman she had become.

He sighed. “So, if we believe Remy, then he comes off our list of suspects.”

“And since Phillip Ribideaux has done nothing suspicious in the past couple of days and we don’t know where Frank is, that leaves us with nothing.”

Lucas opened his mouth to protest her assessment, then closed it. Because she was right.