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The bond of love between the sisters was strong. Lucy took her role as older sister seriously. For the first few months of the girls’ life here in Hideaway, Lucy had refused to let Brittany out of her sight.
Keeping watch over the active five-year-old was quite a responsibility, and, after much pleading, Ginger had convinced Lucy that Brittany would come to no harm here in the tiny village of kind, common people.
“How did Lucy wake you up?” Ginger asked.
“She had another bad dream, and then I got into bed with her so she’d feel safe, but she left me there.”
Ginger stopped. “She left you?”
“Uh-huh. She went out to the hallway when you and Daddy were arguing.”
Ginger winced. “We weren’t arguing.” What if Lucy had overheard her talking to Graham about Rick Fenrow? “Where is she now?”
Before Brittany could answer, a scream rent the air, followed quickly by another, raising the hairs along the back of Ginger’s neck and causing her to stumble and stub her toe on the hall coatrack.
That was Lucy’s voice, raised in terror.
Another nightmare?
Ginger turned and ran back down the hallway. Graham’s door flew open and he scrambled out, nearly colliding with Ginger. The screams continued.
They reached Lucy’s room to find her standing between the beds, staring out the window. Graham grabbed her up into his arms while Ginger turned on the light. Lucy’s face was as pale as her nightgown, her dark brown eyes wide with terror, mouth open, long hair falling over her face.
“The man, Graham!” she cried, pointing toward the window. “There was a man! He was out there watching me when I opened my eyes. I saw him. He was watching me! Right in that window!”
Graham put Lucy down and grabbed the flashlight the girls kept on the stand between the beds for when the electricity went off. He rushed to the window and shone the bright beam over the yard around the side of the house, then turned and ran from the room. Within seconds, the outdoor lights flooded the yard and garden, outlining two of the horses in the corral behind the house.
Ginger heard Brittany’s cries from the kitchen. Grabbing Lucy’s hand, she hurried back to find Graham holding Brittany in his arms as he punched a number on the telephone keypad.
“Shhh, it’s okay, honey,” he whispered to Brittany. “It’s going to be okay. Lucy’s been having some bad dreams lately, you know—” His attention switched to the phone. “Greg? This is Graham Vaughn. Could you come out here? We’ve had some excitement.” He explained the situation to the sheriff in two succinct sentences, thanked him and hung up, stooping to place Brittany on her feet.
“There’ll be some men here in a couple of minutes. I’m going to go outside and check—”
“No!” Lucy cried. “What if it’s that man?” She stared, wide-eyed, at Brittany, pressing her lips together. The terror in her eyes told Ginger what she’d feared.
Indeed, Lucy had heard them earlier tonight. She obviously knew about Rick Fenrow.
“Graham,” Ginger said, “why don’t you stay inside?” More than likely, Lucy had awakened from another nightmare, and convinced herself it was real because of what she’d overheard. More than likely.
But Ginger didn’t want to take chances. And so the four of them stayed together in the kitchen, staring out the windows, the children wide-eyed and trembling, until they heard the sound of a motor a few minutes later.
As they’d expected, the sheriff and his deputy, as well as Taylor Jackson, forest ranger, arrived in three different vehicles—Taylor’s vehicle being a boat.
This sprawling log home provided them with the best of both worlds. They lived in the country, with all the privacy they could want. They were only a quarter of a mile from downtown Hideaway by way of the shoreline, and one mile by road. Many Hideaway residents used water transportation.
The men searched the entire property. By the time they were finished, Dane Gideon, mayor of Hideaway and director of the boys’ ranch across the lake, had come over. With him were his household help, Richard Cook, and college student, Blaze Farmer, who, Ginger knew, Lucy adored. If anyone could put Lucy at ease about tonight, it would be Blaze.
All the men went over the property once again for good measure, then rejoined the family in the great room, accepting the cups of hot chocolate the girls had helped Ginger prepare.
No one was found, but Ginger couldn’t help feeling that perhaps someone just didn’t want to be found.
THREE
Ray Clyde sat reading the Springfield Daily News with his back to the window that looked out over the parking lot of the Springfield-Branson Airport. He’d received an early morning summons to Columbia Regional Hospital for one of his young patients. After finishing there, he’d decided just to drive on down to Springfield rather than go back to bed. He’d have had to get up early to make the three-hour drive, anyway.
It was never easy to get back to sleep after dealing with a child in pain, though after twenty years, he should be impervious to the cries of mother and child, the fear and panic. He wasn’t. He had decided when he first began his career that if he ever ceased to have compassion for his patients, he would retire.
He’d be working well into his seventies at this rate.
He glanced over the top of his paper as two familiar figures entered the concourse and walked toward the Delta self-check-in terminals. He smiled at the sight of Willow Traynor and her brother, Preston Black.
Willow glowed with the radiance of a woman in love. Tall and slender, with short, dark hair, she emanated self-sufficiency. This was something about which her fiancé, Graham Vaughn, occasionally complained—though always with good grace.
Neither Willow nor Preston noticed Ray, and he was glad. It meant others also might not notice him. Graham had even suggested that Ray not attempt to board until the last minute. Ray understood perfectly why his friend felt a late arrival was necessary, but he still chafed at the thought of subterfuge.
After another five minutes, the glass doors slid open again and two little girls burst into the concourse. Ray knew from photos that these children were Lucy and Brittany Jameson. They would be adopted by Graham and Willow next week, as soon as they returned from Hawaii.
“Mommy!” Brittany called, racing forward, arms outstretched.
Willow turned, a smile of delight spreading across the slightly angular features of her face. The smile transformed her somewhat solemn expression into a thing of beauty.
She and her brother, Preston, both stepped out of line and knelt to embrace the children.
Brittany, the five-year-old, looked small for her age, though Ray knew she was nearly six. It was easy to tell that she was the charmer. With long, pale hair and a wide grin, she looked much like the photos of her mother, who had been killed last year.
Lucy, in contrast, appeared older than eight and a half, not because of her size, but because her demeanor was so watchful and serious. She resembled Willow, with her dark brown hair and reserved expression, especially when she smiled, which she suddenly did at Willow, whom she obviously adored.
Preston leaned close to Lucy and asked her something. Ray couldn’t hear what he said, but Lucy placed her hands on her hips and gave him a disapproving look. “It’s not an airplane, Uncle Preston, it’s a jet.”
Preston chuckled. He, too, looked most like Willow when he smiled. It was obvious he doted on the children.
“That’s right, my dear, you set ’em straight” came a painfully familiar voice from behind the girls.
Ray looked up to see Ginger Carpenter walking through the doorway beside Graham Vaughn, her brother. Ray’s breath caught.
Ginger. A year ago, if anyone had suggested that a rift might form between him and Ginger Carpenter, Ray would have thought it was impossible. His most precious memories of their time together and their growing friendship were of her smile, her laughter, her tender compassion.
Of course, many of those same memories also included the powerful and painful attraction he had felt for her since their first meeting. By all indications, the attraction had never been reciprocated, and he hoped his rare loss of emotional control had remained undetected by his colleagues—and especially by Ginger.
He expected her to turn at any second and spot him. Fireworks would then commence.
The reason Graham preferred that the conflagration take place onboard rather than in the concourse was obvious. Graham wanted his sister to attend his wedding. If she saw Ray while she could still escape, she might do so. Graham had warned Ray that his characteristically kindhearted, forgiving sister had not forgiven Ray for their conflict last year.
Ray intended for that to change on this trip.
He continued to hold the paper, but over the top edge he watched Ginger. He had always enjoyed her sunny smile, her quick laughter, the glow of health across her fair, freckled face. This morning her golden-red hair was mingled with new silver that he hadn’t noticed a year ago. The effect was one of antiqued copper—very becoming on her. She didn’t appear well rested, however.
A strange man with dark brown hair and a black leather jacket suddenly joined the group. Lucy grabbed her sister’s arm and stepped in front of her protectively.
Ray watched the man’s face.
“Ow!” Brittany wriggled from Lucy’s grip. “Stop it, sissy, you’re hurting me.”
Lucy released her, but continued to stare at the man. As Preston and Willow had done, this man squatted in front of the girls, looking them in the eyes. “Hi. I’m Larry Bager.”
The man’s eyes were dark brown, and his well-developed muscles beneath the jacket were obvious. He had a short beard that looked unshaved rather than intentionally grown.
“I’m Lucy Jameson,” the older sister told the man. “This is my sister, Brittany.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Lucy leaned closer to him and said something Ray couldn’t hear. Larry’s gaze flicked up to Ginger, then back at Lucy. “That’s right, I’m like a bodyguard.”
Lucy nodded, apparently satisfied. “Is that like a bouncer? I went to work with Mama sometimes, and she introduced me to the bouncer at the bar where she worked.”
Again, Larry nodded. “I’m the man to come to if you get scared of anything, okay?”
“Okay.”
Larry straightened and looked around. “Hey, boss,” he said to Graham, “where’re those trip escorts we’re supposed to have flying with us?”
“I just got a call from Helen Courtney,” Graham said. “She told me they had some car trouble and they’re running late, but they’ll be on the flight with us.”
Larry was close enough to Ray when he drew Graham aside that Ray could hear them. “You check ’em out? Are they legit?”
“One of my renters, Mrs. Engle, set us up with them. They’ve been on board with this plan for several weeks, coordinating our requests.”
Larry glanced in Ray’s direction and his eyes narrowed, as if some inner radar ignited his suspicion. “Can’t be too careful.”
Lucy grabbed her sister’s hand. “Brittany, you’ve got to stay with us, okay?” Lucy said. “No wandering off, and you can’t talk to strangers. I mean it.”
“Okay.” Brittany turned and smiled up at Larry Bager, even though she’d just met him. “My teacher says airplanes are as safe as riding a school bus.”
Lucy nudged Brittany. “School bus? Not even close. You aren’t with a bunch of kids on this flight. These are grown-ups, and you know what Mama always said about talking to strangers, especially grown-ups.”
Aunt Ginger gave Lucy one of her raised-eyebrow looks over her shoulder. “Stop with the fear tactics, my dear. It’ll only make things worse.” She gave a sharp nod.
Lucy knew what the nod meant. It meant: Especially after scaring Brittany to death last night.
But that hadn’t been a dream standing in the window, and Lucy knew it, no matter how much Aunt Ginger tried to convince her everything was okay.
Lucy had seen Rick Fenrow. She knew the difference between a dream and a real man. She could close her eyes and see that face. Shaggy black hair, shaggy black eyebrows that looked like caterpillars. White face.
Brittany probably didn’t even remember how scared everybody had been last night. Those kinds of things never bothered her much. Why should they? Lucy was always there to make sure nobody hurt her. Brittany didn’t know everything about Mama’s killer.
Last night, even with Blaze Farmer and Dane Gideon standing guard at opposite ends of the house until morning, Lucy hadn’t been able to sleep.
Why couldn’t Blaze come with them to Hawaii? Blaze was strong and kind, and he didn’t think he was too good to talk to little girls.
But Blaze had already agreed to take care of the farm for Graham while they were gone, so he couldn’t go with them.
Lucy kept a lookout for the man she’d seen last night. Once in the jet, settled in her seat by the window, she studied everyone who entered.
Aunt Ginger sat in the seat between Lucy and Brittany. Uncle Preston sat directly across the aisle from them, with Willow and Graham in front of him.
Once, Lucy had asked if Aunt Ginger and Uncle Preston were boyfriend and girlfriend. Aunt Ginger had laughed, saying that, biologically, she was old enough to be Uncle Preston’s mother.
Lucy didn’t know what biologically meant, but Uncle Preston had a girlfriend now. Her name was Sheila, and she was nice.
Aunt Ginger had said more than once that she wasn’t a romantic type. She said she knew better than to make that mistake again. Graham laughed at her, but she talked as if she meant it. She said, “Graham Vaughn, don’t you go trying to set me up with any of those friends of yours. I’m out of commission, and I like it that way.”
Two old people sat down next to Uncle Preston, introducing themselves as Helen and Steve Courtney, the travel coordinators and escorts. The woman immediately started talking to Brittany, who chattered away, as if they were old friends or something. The dummy! If Rick Fenrow himself ever tried to take Brittany’s hand and lead her away, she would probably go with him, chattering to him until he cut her throat.
Lucy and Larry Bager would have their hands full with Brittany.
Helen and Steve Courtney were even older than Aunt Ginger, who liked to brag that she “needed to be accorded respect because of her advanced age of fifty-three.” Lucy didn’t know what accorded meant, and she griped at Aunt Ginger for using big words without explaining them.
Helen Courtney had a camera, and she started taking pictures of everything and everybody, especially Graham and Willow, Lucy and Brittany, right there on the jet.
The Courtneys made Lucy nervous. Why did Helen Courtney have to take so many pictures?
“Honey, I’m going to be taking all the pictures you’ll ever want on this trip,” she explained, patting Willow’s hand. “I’ll even catch some shots you’ll want to erase, but not many! I know my stuff. I’m making memories for a lifetime, you know.”
Lucy studied the woman. She seemed to smile all the time. She had a lot of wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and she wore more makeup than Aunt Ginger or Willow ever did.
“I love your hair,” Aunt Ginger told Helen. “It’s the perfect shade for you.”
Helen laughed. “Oopsie! You caught me there.” She patted her hair as if it might be out of place. “Fresh from the bottle.”
Lucy stared at the woman’s hair. Must be a big bottle. Was she bald under there?
Helen’s husband, Steve, had gray hair and lots of wrinkles around his eyes, too. He didn’t smile as much as Helen. Lucy was relieved that he didn’t look anything like the man at the window last night.
Larry Bager sat in the seat behind Helen. He didn’t say much, but he stared at every person who got on the airplane.
Brittany suddenly looked up from her unzipped backpack, eyes wide, mouth open with horror. “Oh no! Aunt Ginger, I forgot to pack Chuckles! You told me to be sure to pack him and I forgot! Did you pack him? You did, didn’t you Aunt Ginger? Huh?”
Ginger had realized last night that this wasn’t going to be an easy trip. With the lack of sleep and the fright the girls—and she and Graham—had endured, her mind hadn’t been as sharp as she’d have liked. But this? It was inexcusable.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry, but—”
“No!” Brittany wailed. “We can’t go without Chuckles! We’ve got to go back and get him, we’ve got to!”
It seemed the eye of every person in the aisles around them turned to see what Ginger was going to do about the panicky child. Some passengers were amused, some irritated.
Brittany started to cry.
Lucy tapped Ginger on the arm. “Aunt Ginger.” She held up her backpack, and slowly unzipped the largest compartment.
