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“Wait,” Lucas interrupted the kidnapper. “We need to know that Billy and Jenny are still alive. You’ve got to give us something.”
“I reckon you’ve forgotten who is in charge here. At the corner of Main and Cotton Street you’ll find a bench with a big wide seat.”
“Listen to me, what is it you want from us?” Lucas exchanged a look of frustration with Mariah.
“At the corner of Main and Cotton …” the kidnapper began again.
“Why are you doing this? Just tell us what you want,” Lucas interjected. He was trying to pull the kidnapper into a discussion, hoping that something the caller said would trigger a clue. But the kidnapper still had no desire to deviate from whatever script was in his head.
“At the corner of Main and Cotton Street, you’ll find a bench with a big wide seat. If you look beneath you might find a clue, a little gift from me to you.”
Lucas grunted in surprise as Mariah snatched the receiver from his hands. “Listen you, we’re not playing your game anymore. You hear me? I’m done chasing around town looking for clues that aren’t there.” Her voice was shrill with anger and her eyes flamed with emotion. “Play your stupid game without us, because we’re done.”
The caller hung up.
Mariah stared at Lucas. She clutched the phone receiver so tightly her knuckles turned white. He gently tried to take it away from her.
“What have I done?” she whispered as she released the phone to him.
“You’ve changed the game, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing,” he replied.
She sank into a chair at the table and covered her face with her hands. He pulled up a chair in front of her and sat, then reached out for her hands.
“Mariah, maybe you shook him up and maybe that’s what we needed to do,” he said. “He’s been running us all over town for nothing. It was time we told him no more. We take away the pleasure he’s gotten in baiting us and maybe he’ll get desperate for attention and make a mistake.”
“I just hope I didn’t make him angry enough to do something awful.”
“If he’s going to do something awful, then nothing we can do or say will make a difference,” Lucas said. It was possible something awful had already been done. He couldn’t ignore the possibility that Jenny and Billy had been killed in the hours immediately following the kidnapping and the killer was just amusing himself now.
“Who are you calling?” she asked as he began to punch numbers on his phone.
“The office. Ed,” he said into the receiver. “I want you to do me a favor. Go to the corner of Cotton and Main and check a bench that’s there. See if there’s anything taped to the bottom of it, then call me back.” If the kidnapper was watching, seeing the deputy might force him to act and give them something to go on.
He hung up and Mariah stared at him expectantly. “So, what do we do now?” she asked.
He shrugged and stared outside where night had once again fallen. The fourth night, and they were no closer to finding Jenny and Billy than they’d been on the first night.
He looked back at Mariah. “We do what we’ve been doing. We let the investigation unfold and we wait for a break.”
She sighed. “Did you find out any more about Frank’s whereabouts the past couple of days when you walked him outside?”
“No, but I did let him know what would happen if he bothered you while he was here in Conja Creek. I told him exactly what we thought of men who abuse women.”
Her eyes widened. “You threatened him?”
“Let’s just say I gave him a friendly warning.”
“Did you get any feeling that he might be behind this?”
“I don’t know whether he is or not, but he’s the kind of man capable of such a thing.” He leaned back in the chair. “The caller’s voice is so distorted it’s almost impossible to match it to somebody we’ve heard.”
“Maybe Agent Kessler will be able to tell us something about the calls,” she said.
Lucas nodded. But he knew that it could take weeks, even months to get information from Kessler and his men. The FBI lab wouldn’t necessarily see the kidnapping of one child and one woman from a small Southern town as a priority given all the other cases they worked.
Lucas still felt the burning need to be doing something, to tear apart the town in an effort to find the missing loved ones, but logically he knew there was nothing more to be done than what was being done.
The kidnapper was still in charge of things, and unless or until he made a mistake, there wasn’t much more Lucas and his men could do.
Maylor called to let them know that there was nothing unusual about the bench at Cotton and Main. Lucas checked in with Kessler and the rest of his men, then the night stretched out before them, long and dark.
“Is your mother still alive?” he asked Mariah, seeking conversation to fill the time.
“No. She had cancer and passed away not too long after my wedding. She died happy, believing that I had found a man to love and cherish me. I’m glad she passed before she knew about Frank and about my divorce.” She got up from her chair. “Want some coffee?”
“Sure,” he agreed. He wished she’d sleep. What little sleep they’d both gotten over the past four days had been in unexpected catnaps, when exhaustion overwhelmed will.
As he watched her making the coffee he was struck by a burst of desire for her, a need to lose himself in her kisses, in the sweet heat her body offered.
He couldn’t know if what he felt for her was real or simply emotions flaring out of control because of the situation.
It also occurred to him that, for the past four days, they’d existed like a married couple, sharing quiet conversations in the predawn moments, listening to each other breathe when the conversation ran out.
Lucas had never been a lonely man, but he had a feeling when he returned to his big house with only Marquette as company, he would be lonely. Talking to Mariah, watching her graceful movements and listening to the sound of her voice had become a pleasant habit, one he knew would be hard to break.
When the coffee was finished, she brought it to the table. She wrapped her slender fingers around her mug and eyed him curiously. “Don’t you want children?”
He started to give a quick reply, but instead took a sip of coffee and thought about the question. “I haven’t really thought about it for a long time. Certainly when I got married I figured eventually there would be kids. But then my marriage fell apart and I was busy raising Jenny. I didn’t give it any more thought.”
“Jenny is going to eventually get married and start a family of her own. That’s important to her, having a husband and kids.” She tilted her head a bit, the light overhead glistening in her chestnut hair. “When do you get your chance, Lucas? When is it time for you to build something just for yourself?”
“I have my work. It’s always been enough for me,” he replied a bit uneasily.
“Work is what I do, but being a mother is who I am.” She took a sip of her coffee, then continued. “I bet you’d make an awesome dad.”
He laughed, the amusement surprising even himself. “You can’t have it both ways, Mariah. You’ve told me in so many words that I’ve been screwing it up with Jenny and yet you think I’d make a great dad. That’s a little bit contradictory, don’t you think?”
She smiled, and it was the first smile he’d seen from her that wasn’t tinged with grief, that didn’t hold tense lines and jagged edges. “My complaint about your parenting skills has nothing to do with when Jenny was younger. I’ll bet you were a loving caretaker for her when she was a kid. My only complaint is that you don’t seem to know that it’s time to let go.”
“Point taken,” he replied. “You’re different than I thought you were.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whenever I saw you at the mayor’s office, you seemed hard-edged and uptight. You’re softer than I thought.”
“I take my job very seriously. Besides, anytime you came in to see Richard, he freaked out just a little bit. I think you scare him. You’re always so sure of yourself and what you’re doing. Richard cares so much about this town and the people, but he’s less sure about his path than you are.”
“Did he know about your past? That you weren’t really a widow?”
She nodded. “I had no references to give him and so I told him the truth, that I wanted a fresh start here and was willing to work hard to create a good life. Harrington isn’t my real name. I couldn’t use Landers nor could I use my maiden name because I was afraid Frank would find me. Harrington is a name I chose, and the shelter where I stayed for a while helped me get identification in my new name. Richard knew all that and hired me anyway. He gave me a chance and kept my secret, and for that I’ll always be grateful to him.”
Lucas grinned. “Then I guess I’m going to have to ease up on Richard.”
The next couple of hours passed in quiet conversation. The tension, the stress and anxiety of the past four days seemed to have momentarily ebbed, as if their minds and bodies could no longer sustain the heightened sense of fear.
She told him a little bit more about her life with Frank, her lonely childhood with her mostly absent mother, and he regaled her with tales of his life in college with the friends he called his band of brothers, the men whom he still called his friends.
It was almost midnight when the coffee was gone and the fear returned. He saw it swimming back into her eyes, in the slight shake of her hands as she removed the cups from the table.
“You should try to get some sleep,” he said.
“I know. But I’m afraid to close my eyes.” She placed the cups in the dishwasher then turned back to face him. “I’m afraid I’ll have bad dreams, but more than that, I’m afraid those dreams might come true.”
Then the phone rang again.
Chapter Eleven
Electricity sizzled through Mariah. “You think he’s calling back?”
“We won’t know unless we answer.” He punched the record and the speaker button. “Jamison,” he said.
“Lucas, it’s me, Jackson.” It was obvious from the background noise that Jackson Burdeaux was in his car.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Listen, I was on my way home from a meeting and heading down Baker’s Street south of town when I saw a little boy walking along the street. I’ve got him in my car now, but he’s having trouble breathing so we’re on our way to the hospital. I’m just hoping I get him there in time.”
“My God. It’s Billy,” she said. She pushed away from the dishwasher, and a wave of dizziness struck her. She drew a deep, steadying breath. Her heart beat so fast she thought she might be having a heart attack. Billy! He was having trouble breathing, but that meant he was alive!
Lucas ended the call. “Let’s go.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice.
“It’s got to be him, right?” she asked a moment later when they were in Lucas’s car. “There can’t be another little boy walking along a street at midnight who has breathing problems.” Hope filled her and brought tears to her eyes, yet she was afraid to believe. She was afraid the hope that now rose inside her would be smashed, and she didn’t think she could survive that.
“It sounds like it’s him,” Lucas replied. He cast her a sideways glance. “You might want to prepare yourself. We don’t know what’s happened to him, where he’s been. We know he’s obviously suffering an asthma attack, but we don’t know what else he might be suffering from.”
“But surely if there’s been other injuries Jackson would have mentioned them,” she protested. He had to be all right. He just had to be.
“I’m not talking about physical injuries. We don’t know what he’s been through mentally, emotionally. He may be very fragile.”
“But he’s alive,” she replied. Surely with enough love and time they could heal whatever might be wrong. Her mind raced with possibilities. “You mentioned that one of your college buddies is a psychiatrist.”
He nodded. “Clay Jefferson. Why?”
“Does he see children? If Billy needs help, I’d want to take him to see somebody professionally.” She was a jittery mess, her brain shooting in a million different directions as she mentally urged him to go faster … faster.
“One step at a time,” Lucas replied as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. She was out of the car and running toward the entrance before he’d brought the car to a full halt.
Conja Creek Memorial Hospital was a small facility, mostly used for emergency situations. Most people with real health issues drove to Shreveport or were transported there.
The first person she saw as she flew through the emergency-room door was a tall, dark-haired man with slate-gray eyes. She knew in an instant this was Lucas’s friend, Jackson Burdeaux. Although she wanted to thank him, her most urgent need was to see if Billy really existed behind the closed doors just ahead. She started toward the doors.
“Wait! You can’t go back there.” A nurse stepped in front of her, blocking her forward progress.
“Please, the little boy who was just brought in. He’s my son. You have to let me through.”
The nurse’s implacable expression softened. “If you’re his mother then we need you to sign some forms.”
“Gina,” Lucas’s voice rang from behind them. “Let her through. The forms can wait until later.”
Nurse Gina stepped aside and Mariah flew through the doors. The first person she saw sitting up on an examining table was her son.
He was being given a breathing treatment, but when he saw her he pulled the nozzle from his mouth. “Mommy,” he cried as she rushed to him.
Never again would she feel the way she did at that moment, so filled with joy it nearly brought her to her knees. He was filthy and sweaty, but she wrapped her arms around him and wept with the joy of holding him.
She cried only a moment, then aware of his labored breathing she let him go and guided the nozzle of the nebulizer back to his mouth. “Breathe, honey. Just breathe.”
He did as she told him, and Mariah straightened and saw Dr. Ralph Dell standing nearby. Dr. Dell was Billy’s regular doctor and she hurried to where he stood.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, his wrinkled face offering her a smile. “He’s going to be all right, Mariah. Other than the fact that he was scarcely breathing when Jackson brought him in, I don’t see any other physical issues.”
“Thank God,” she replied.
“I’d like to keep him here overnight for observation. Just to be on the safe side.”
“Of course. As long as I can stay with him.”
Dr. Dell smiled once again. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. We’ll finish up his breathing treatment, then get him cleaned up and into a room.”
“Did he say anything to you? About who took him?”
“He didn’t offer anything and I didn’t ask. My main concern was getting him treatment. He was in pretty bad shape when he was brought in. His main concern was that you were going to be mad at him.”
“Mad? Why on earth would I be mad?”
“He told me he got into a stranger’s car to come here and you’d always warned him never to get into a stranger’s car.”
Mariah’s heart squeezed tight, and she left the doctor’s side to return to her son. As he breathed in the medicated air that would ease his suffering, she pulled up a chair and sat next to him, then took his hand in hers.
As she held his hand she was aware of Lucas coming to stand just behind her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s going to be fine.” She smiled at her son. “They’re going to keep him overnight. Did you hear that, Billy? You and I are going to stay here in the hospital for the night.” He nodded.
“I’d like to have a little talk with him,” Lucas said in a low voice. “I’ll come back once I’ve spoken with Jackson,” he added, as if realizing Billy would need a little time with his mother.
She didn’t even notice when he drifted away, so focused was she on the sight of her son, alive and well before her.
