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“As soon as it was light, I started running again and met this nice old couple who were out camping. They fed us and drove us as far as Portland. We’ve been hitchhiking ever since.”
Max didn’t have to ask her why she hadn’t gone to the police for assistance. Women like Traci never did. Her husband had tyrannized her for too long. She had no faith that anyone could help.
“What about your family?”
“The aunt who raised me died before I got married.”
“Is there anyone you were close to before your wedding? A good friend your husband might have reason to suspect is helping you now?”
“Not really. He didn’t like my friends, so I didn’t see them anymore.”
“I still want their names and addresses. It’s for their protection. I’m going to need directions to find your cabin, too.”
He pulled his little notebook out of a back pocket. When she’d given him the information, he helped her to her feet. “Now comes the hard part, Traci. That siren in the distance means the police and paramedics will be driving up any minute to begin Betsy’s rescue. They’ll be followed by television reporters who want to take pictures and interview you.
“We’re going to have to hide you in order to keep your identity a secret so your husband can’t track you down. The best place for that would be the house next door. The only thing is, you won’t be able to talk to your little girl while we’re getting her out of the pipe.”
As Traci’s face started to crumple, Chelsea clasped the young woman’s hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay here every second and talk to her, sing to her, just as if I were her mother. She won’t be alone. I swear it. Will you let me do this favor for you, Traci? I want to do it.”
Max gritted his teeth. Why do you want to do this, Chelsea Markum?
The other woman bit her lip, then nodded.
Chelsea embraced her. “Quick! Go with Max.”
“Betsy? It’s Mommy!” Traci cried. “Chelsea’s going to stay with you for a little while, but I’ll be right next door, honey. I love you, baby!”
When the child made a whimpering noise, Max felt exquisite relief. The sirens were getting louder. He pulled Chelsea aside.
“You and I are going to have to tell the same story. When you’re questioned, just say that we were both leaving the Lord ranch when you discovered you were having car problems. I offered to give you a lift to a garage, and en route to Reiser we came across Traci.”
“That sounds perfect. But what shall I call the baby? I can’t use her real name without giving everything away.”
“I’m not worried,” he muttered. “The Chelsea Markum I know has always landed on her feet.” Turning to Traci, he held out a hand. “Come on. Let’s make a run for it while we can.”
CHAPTER THREE
IF MAX hadn’t referred to Chelsea as the black widow of television earlier, she might have taken those words as a backhanded compliment.
Forcing herself not to watch his hard-muscled frame as he pulled Traci toward the house, she reached for the cup of coffee he’d brought her. The liquid had cooled enough to drink the contents in a few swallows.
By the time the siren had stopped and she could hear doors opening and closing behind her, she’d arranged the tarp around her head and shoulders to provide a little more warmth. With night coming on, she could tell the temperature had already dropped a degree or two.
She hated to think of Traci’s little girl down there in the dark. She was only fourteen months old. What if she’d broken an arm or leg in the fall? Maybe she was bleeding. Chelsea felt sick in the pit of her stomach.
When footsteps sounded, she whirled. Four uniformed policemen and a similar number of firefighters in full gear approached her at a vigorous pace.
“Thank goodness you’ve arrived! Over two hours ago a toddler fell down in the excavation right below me. She’s trapped in a pipe. You’ve got to get her out!”
Chelsea didn’t recognize any of the men staring at her, but the malignant glance the police captain flashed her sent a message that needed no translation.
“Ms. Markum. How is it you arrived here first? Where’s Max Jamison? The dispatcher told us he called it in.”
Don’t let this man’s rudeness get to you, Chelsea.
She pulled the edges of the tarp a little tighter, as if to cloak herself with an invisible shield. “He’s next door with the mother and needs two policemen over there right away. I was asked to wait here so I could show you where to start looking for her daughter.
“Mr. Jamison and I were both leaving the Lord ranch when my car wouldn’t start. He offered to give me a lift into Reiser for help. When we turned down this road, the mother ran out to us. Look, Captain, he’s already been down there and says everything’s ready to collapse. If the little girl has crawled somewhere else, she could be killed by falling debris!”
There was no change of expression. “What’s the tot’s name?”
Some men possessed a surly manner by nature. Chelsea didn’t know if the captain fell in that category or if she was the one who brought out this boorish behavior in him.
“I don’t know. The mother was so hysterical, he couldn’t coax more than a sentence or two out of her.”
“Did he actually see the child?”
“No.” Chelsea struggled to keep her voice level. “But when he climbed down in there, he heard her through the pipe. She cries on and off.”
Petrified because Betsy hadn’t made any sounds for the last couple of minutes, Chelsea moved closer to the edge. “Sweetheart? It’s Chelsea and Mommy! We love you! Do you want me to sing another song? Would you like that? Sweetheart?” she cried louder.
While she listened for a response from the child, she heard the captain give orders to start the rescue operation. Relieved that two of the officers were told to head for the house, she concentrated on maintaining a connection with Betsy.
“Can you say mama? Come on, honey! Say mama for me so the nice men will know where to find you!”
By now the firefighters had been to their truck for equipment. A couple of them had climbed inside the framework with heavy-duty flashlights. Their progress must have disturbed some kind of roost because several free-tailed bats flew out, startling her.
Chelsea had forgotten how prevalent they were in this area. Though the creatures played a role in insect control, she couldn’t abide them, and prayed there weren’t any near Betsy.
“Sweetheart? Come on and talk to Chelsea! Come on! I know you can do it! Say mama! Mama!”
In a minute she heard whimpering, then another round of infant tears, which were enough to break her heart all over again.
The last firefighter to descend saluted Chelsea before he followed his partner into what at this point was a black hole.
Swallowing hard, she listened as the men talked baby talk to Betsy. Their voices sounded kind and loving. No doubt some, if not all of them, were married with families.
Her eyes smarted when she thought how brave they were to risk their lives for someone else’s little girl. Any one of them could easily be at home with a nice, safe day job.
In the background she could hear the captain on the patrol car radio. He was too far away for her to make out actual conversation. The other officer was busy setting up road flares near the vehicles and fire truck.
It wouldn’t be long before every radio and television reporter would be out here, seizing on any angle for a story that would boost their ratings. Without help, Traci and her child couldn’t hope to withstand the media.
For the first time since Chelsea had come to Austin to take the job at Tattle Today, she was seeing this situation from the victim’s perspective. She wasn’t sure she liked what she saw.
COME ON, Michael. Pick up.
On the sixth ring Max was ready to click off when he heard his friend’s voice answer with a rather terse hello.
“Michael?”
“At last! Where are you, Max? I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“My cell phone died on me. I didn’t have a moment to call you until just now. How’s Garrett?” Michael’s brother, Garrett, had been shot the previous night at the remote cabin on his ranch where Vince Eckart had tried to kill his ex-wife, Camille.
“I just talked to him on the phone. He feels like the devil, but he’s going to be okay. Thank God the bullet got him in the shoulder instead of the heart. It’s because of me he was hurt at all. I should never have let him leave the cabin. He’s a rancher, not a former cop.”
Max inhaled sharply. “Don’t do that to yourself, Michael. Everyone’s lives were at stake last night. Any one of us could have taken a bullet. No one is to blame. Do you hear me? Let’s just be glad Eckart died before he could kill anyone else.”
“You’re right. It could have been worse.”
“It could have turned into a bloodbath, and you know it. Since we’ve been assured Garrett’s going to recover, what else matters?”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is.”
“All right,” Michael agreed, though he didn’t sound convinced. “So what about you? What have you done with the menace from Tattle Today? Jake told me he saw you toss her over your shoulder and take off hell-bent for your truck with a wicked smile on your face. I hear her camcorder took a direct hit. Apparently it was a sight forever emblazoned in his memory.”
At the time, no one had enjoyed the experience more than Max. He’d taken particular pleasure in carting her away from the crime scene Neanderthal style. She’d had it coming for a long, long time.
But life had a way of dealing you a double whammy when you were least expecting it. Since they’d discovered Traci at the abandoned excavation, Max knew things had changed. It was possible the black widow had another side to her. For several reasons he was no longer laughing.
“Max?” his friend prodded. “Don’t tell me she jumped out of the truck and got away from you?”
“She tried. I have the claw marks to prove it.” In fact she’d fought him with some moves that made her difficult to subdue. Whoever had trained her had done a good job. But he had no weapon against her feminine grace, which was far too seductive for his liking.
He gritted his teeth. Though she had a glaring flaw he couldn’t abide, it didn’t make him blind to certain truths. Like the fact that Chelsea Markum was a raving beauty.
For a long time now he’d been fighting that image of her. There’d been too many occasions in the last year when they’d tangled with each other, and he’d enjoyed it too much. Every incident had left him a little more affected in ways he didn’t want to explore.
Lately he found himself anticipating their confrontations whenever he had the job of keeping her away from people or places he’d been assigned to guard. But today marked a first—he’d held that breathtaking body in his arms, all five feet nine inches of her.
In truth he admired the immaculate care she took of herself, the elegant clothes she wore. He noticed details like her perfectly manicured nails, the scent of her French perfume, the flowery fragrance of her short, stylishly cut auburn hair.
Just now in the rain, the silky strands had taken on the patina of deep, rich Spanish mahogany. Her matching brows framed dark-lashed crystalline green eyes, and in his opinion, her flawless skin and features made her more beautiful than any movie star.
Since she craved attention, it was too bad she hadn’t pursued a career in film. Instead, she’d offended so many people with her aggressive, indomitable desire to ferret out a story, he wondered if she had many friends.
“What did you do with her?” Michael’s question broke his reverie. “How soon can I expect her to show up at the clinic with a new camcorder, ready to poke her nose into the Maitlands’ business? Does she know about Chase’s disappearance?”
“Not yet.”
“We can be thankful for that, at least,” Michael muttered.
After the gentle, protective, nurturing way she’d been behaving with Traci, Max almost lost it when he thought of her reverting to form once this ordeal was over.
He let out a deep sigh. “Michael, I’m calling for a different reason.”
There was a pause. “Is something wrong? Did Chelsea damage your truck or something? Because if she did—”
“No, no.” He broke in before his friend’s anger took over. At this point Michael had zero tolerance for Chelsea. And who could blame him? Ever since Chase had been found abandoned on the steps of Maitland Maternity Clinic the previous fall, Chelsea had harassed the clinic and the Maitland family, trying to find out who had parented the mysterious baby.
“It’s nothing like that,” Max went on. “While I was driving around on a back country road spelling out a few home truths to Ms. Markum, we met up with a hysterical mother at a deserted excavation site. Her fourteen-month-old daughter is still trapped in a pipe.”
There was a pronounced silence, then Michael breathed the words, “Dear God.” No one in the world understood Max’s pain better than his friend.
“Yeah,” Max whispered. “Ironic, isn’t it, after I quit the force so I wouldn’t have to deal with this kind of situation again.”
“Drive away from there and don’t look back! Let the paramedics handle it.”
“You know me better than that.”
“Unfortunately I do. What a hell of a time to have Chelsea Markum in tow! Give me the location and I’ll get rid of her so fast she won’t know what hit her.”
“Believe it or not, that’s the last thing I want you to do. Chelsea’s been an amazing help so far.”
Michael made a noise that sounded more like a bark. “Come on, Max. It’s me, your closest buddy. We’re talking about the woman who’s been hounding the Maitlands for over a year. She’s poison.”
“I know.”
Max raked a hand through his hair. He couldn’t say he was sorry about kidnapping her. He’d been forced to do something drastic before any more people had gotten hurt. But he’d said some pretty harsh things, and he wasn’t too pleased over his own behavior.
Even if it was true, his reference to the black widow had been unkind. In hindsight he realized he’d gone too far. That was the problem when he got around Chelsea Markum. She was like an inflammation that flared up with increasing frequency despite all the precautions he took to stop it.
Oddly enough, he knew nothing about her private life. If he’d wanted to, he could have used the resources at his disposal as a PI to find out if she was married or single. So far he hadn’t given in to that temptation.
One thing was certain. There’d never been a breath of personal scandal attached to her name, only the scandal she created and exposed on “Tattle Today.”
If she had a husband, it was Austin’s best kept secret. As for Chelsea being romantically involved with someone in town, that would be news to Max, as well. But he couldn’t fathom a female as attractive as she was being without a man. He supposed she could be dating her boss or a colleague.
The idea of Chelsea having a lover put him in a foul enough mood that he preferred not to think about her at all. Unfortunately that was easier said than done. Especially since he’d seen her comforting Traci. He couldn’t forget the pleading in her eyes when she’d begged him to trust her for Traci’s sake.
“Michael? Just hear me out on this.” In a matter of minutes he’d told his friend everything. “As it stands, I have no idea how soon we’ll pull Betsy from that pipe. Hopefully before tomorrow. The press is going to be converging on every major hospital in Austin trying to learn the whereabouts of the child, so what I need from you is permission to have Betsy flown to Maitland Maternity Clinic. That’ll at least buy us some time.”
“You’ve got it. In fact as soon as we hang up, I’ll alert the necessary staff. Ford Carrington is one of the best pediatricians around. If the child requires surgery, then she’ll be in good hands. What else can I do for you?”
“Traci ought to be seen by a doctor, too.”
“You can count on Abby to give her a thorough physical.”
“Good. Traci’s been a hostage in her own home for a couple of years and I’m thinking maybe psychiatric counseling wouldn’t go amiss, if she’s willing.”
“If anyone can convince her to seek professional help, Abby’s the one to do it. She’ll also know which specialist to refer her to in case there’s a serious problem beyond her expertise as an OB. Anything else?”
“Can you arrange for Traci to be in the same room with her daughter?”
“Of course. And we’ll up the security. We’re getting used to it.”
