New Year Heroes: The Sheriff's Secretary / Veiled Intentions / Juror No. 7
He’d given the original copies of the recorded messages to Kessler, who would forward them to specialists in the hopes that they could identify a background noise or a voice pattern that might lead to a suspect.
Louis added that while he’d had Phillip Ribideaux under surveillance, the young man hadn’t gone anywhere or done anything suspicious. After losing him, Louis had picked up his trail again at his house, where Phillip and some of his friends had spent most of the night drinking beer and packing a rental moving van.
Ben had searched the cemetery to look for the bullet, but hadn’t found it.
There was still no word from Shreveport about Frank Landers and no other potential suspects on the list. Lucas instructed Ben to grab a couple of citizens who’d volunteered their time, and search all the empty buildings and storefronts in the city.
With nothing more to do, Lucas left his men and headed back to the interview room. Before he reached it, on impulse he went into the smaller room, sat in the chair and gazed at Mariah through the one-sided glass.
She sat with her profile to him, staring at the wall with no expression on her face. Her shoulders were rigidly straight and she seemed to scarcely be breathing.
He thought of the things she’d said to him during breakfast. Did he really remind her of her abusive ex-husband? Was he too overbearing with Jenny? In his concern that she not become a woman like their mother, had he stolen his sister’s self-esteem?
Jenny had once mentioned that she’d like to be a teacher, but he had been adamant that a business degree was a smarter decision. He had just been trying to steer her in the right direction. Was that abusive?
Irritated with his thoughts and with the small flutter of self-doubt that suddenly assailed him, he stood. Dammit, he had more important things to be concerned with than analyzing his relationship with Jenny. He had to find her.
He got up from the chair and went into the interview room. Mariah stood as he entered, looking weary despite it being just noon.
“Let’s get you home,” he said.
She nodded and together they left the office and headed back to her house. They didn’t speak. It was as if the failure to learn anything from Remy sat between them, creating a barrier too big for words to get around.
The minute they were back in her kitchen, they both saw the blinking message light. Lucas checked the information on the recorder. One recorded message, and it had come in three minutes before they’d walked through the front door. Without even playing it, he knew it was from the kidnapper.
Mariah grabbed one of his hands as he punched the button and the now-familiar voice filled the kitchen. “No answers at the office, right? Well, I have a little something for you. By the twisted tree you’ll find a clue, where the grass is green and the sky is blue. Where the flowers bloom you’ll find something rare. So go there now if you think you dare.”
Lucas wanted to punch something. The bastard was watching their every move. He seemed to know what they were doing almost before they did it.
“It’s the park,” Mariah said, her blue eyes lighting with life. “A twisted tree, I know the tree. It’s near the swings in the park.”
Lucas frowned. “There must be a hundred twisted trees in Conja Creek.”
Her eyes flashed with a touch of impatience. “But he would pick the one we know. Everyone refers to the tree in the park as the twisted tree. It’s got to be the one in the park.”
Mariah’s excitement was contagious, but Lucas tried not to get his hopes up. He hated the bright shine of optimism that shone in her eyes—a shine that could so easily be doused.
“Mariah,” he began cautiously. “We thought we were going to get something positive when we went to the cemetery, but the only thing we got was shot at.”
“Surely he wouldn’t do that again.” She headed for the front door. “He says there’s a clue there. He didn’t say that about the cemetery. This is different. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t check it out.” The words bubbled out of her, as if escaping an intense internal pressure. “Maybe this time he’ll give us something to go on, or at least something to let us know that Jenny and Billy are still okay.”
Lucas hurried after her and a moment later he backed out of her driveway and headed for the nearby neighborhood park. He had a bad feeling about this. It worried him that the caller had known that they’d been at the sheriff’s office. It enraged him that the kidnapper was obviously close enough to them to know what they were doing and when they were doing it.
Who in the hell was behind this? It was possible Remy had made the call the moment he’d left the office. He probably possessed more than one cell phone that could be used to make the anonymous calls.
Lucas believed Remy hadn’t been completely forthcoming, especially when Lucas had questioned him about why he’d been seeing Jenny. Although Remy had professed that he wasn’t seeing Lucas’s sister, Lucas hadn’t believed him. Remy had avoided his glance when he’d answered and blinked one too many times, like liars usually did.
It bothered him that a ransom demand hadn’t been made. That meant this was about something more than money. That meant it was something personal. And with both Jenny and Billy taken, it was impossible to know who was the real target.
The park was empty when they arrived, probably due to the intense heat and humidity of the day. Mariah was out of the car almost before Lucas had brought it to a complete halt. She raced across the parking lot toward the gnarled tree that rose up near the swing set. He ran after her, his hand on the butt of his gun.
“Mariah, wait,” he called. Dammit, he didn’t know if they were walking into some sort of a trap again or not. She didn’t slow down.
He caught up with her when she halted in front of the tree. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to the ground. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Have you forgotten what happened the last time we followed the caller’s clue? Just stay down for a minute and let me assess things.” He held on to her arm with one hand and kept his other on his gun.
He gazed around the area, not liking that the south side of the park was flanked by a wooded area that provided plenty of cover if somebody wanted to hide there.
“Lucas, if he wanted to kill us, we’d be dead,” Mariah said softly. “If we’re dead, the game ends and we both know that doesn’t seem to be what the kidnapper wants.”
As much as he hated to admit it, she made sense. The kidnapper was obviously getting off on running them around town, feeding their fear and anxiety. If he killed one or both of them, his game would be over.
Mariah stood and began to search the tree. She looked up into the branches, then walked around it, checking out the trunk. Lucas looked as well, but found nothing. “‘Where the flowers bloom you’ll find something rare,’” Mariah said, and her gaze focused on the flower bed in the distance. “It’s not the tree, it’s the flower bed,” she exclaimed.
A deep weariness overtook Lucas. “Let’s see if he really left us something or if this is just another step in his sick game.”
Chapter Eight
Mariah raced toward the flower bed, her heart pounding with the rhythm of hope … of fear … and a million other emotions. Surely he wouldn’t send them out for nothing again. Nobody could be that cruel.
There had to be something here, something that would feed the small glimmer of hope that still existed in her heart. As each hour passed, in the deepest, darkest places inside her, hope was becoming more and more difficult to sustain.
She’d somehow believed that if Billy were dead she’d know it in her heart, in her soul. But over the past couple of days she’d realized that wasn’t true. It was possible Billy and Jenny had been murdered in the first hours of their disappearance, and she hadn’t felt the loss.
As she stared at the flower bed, she refused to consider that scenario. They had to still be alive. Any other possibility was too horrific to contemplate.
“It doesn’t look like any of the flowers have been disturbed,” Lucas said as he stood next to her.
“There’s got to be something here,” she replied. She stepped into the flower bed and sank to her hands and knees and began to pull at the flowers to see if any of them had been uprooted, then just set back in the ground.
A note, a piece of fabric, something, there had to be something buried beneath the flowers. That’s what the caller had implied. It was a treasure hunt and she was desperate to find the treasure.
She pulled and tugged, more frantic with each minute that passed. It had to be here. Something had to be here. She couldn’t come away from here without anything and continue to maintain her sanity.
She scrambled at the dirt, unmindful of the flowers she destroyed in her efforts. Flowers could be replaced, but Billy couldn’t. Jenny couldn’t.
A clawing, frantic desperation built inside her as she dug in the hard dirt with her fingers. She ignored Lucas, who stood just behind her. He wasn’t digging, and she knew it was because he didn’t believe anything was here. But she had to believe.
“Mariah, there’s nothing here.” Lucas’s voice was flat, without emotion.
She ignored him, moving to a new place in the flower bed. Her fingers hurt from the contact with the hard earth, but she ignored the pain, scrabbling against the ground, uprooting flowers as her breaths came in frantic gasps. She felt half-demented with her need.
“Mariah, you need to stop.” Lucas’s voice seemed to come from very far away.
“No. Something’s here. I know it is.” She continued to dig, tears starting to blur her vision. She needed to find it. The clue. The caller had said there was a clue.
“Mariah.” Lucas grabbed one of her arms. She jerked away from him, moving to yet another area and continuing her search. Tears became sobs as she dug.
Lucas grabbed her once again, this time more forcefully. “Mariah, dammit, stop. You have to stop! There’s nothing here. He’s yanking our chain.”
As Lucas pulled her to her feet she fought him, slamming her fists into his chest as deep, wrenching sobs exploded from her.
“Let me go,” she cried, mindless with anger, with a new kind of grief. “I have to find it.”
“There’s nothing here to find,” he exclaimed, and he pulled her tight against him, holding her so she couldn’t move, couldn’t escape.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew he was right, that there was nothing to find, no clue that would magically lead to Billy. She quit fighting him and instead leaned weakly against him, sobbing as she broke completely.
He held her tight, rubbing her back as she clung to him. “Shh, I know,” he whispered.
She cried harder, tears that had been trapped deep inside her since the first night of the disappearance.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Let it out. Just let it all out.”
Her tears weren’t just for herself and her son, but also for him and his sister. And she knew he understood better than anyone the utter despair she felt. Surely he felt the same bitter disappointment that she did. They were no closer to finding Jenny than they were to finding Billy.
They stood in the embrace for a long time as slowly, painfully, Mariah cried herself out. When her tears were finally gone, there was nothing left inside her.
She was depleted … of emotion, of life. First the interview with Remy and now this, all for nothing. She was completely empty, numb.
“Come on, let’s get you home,” Lucas said gently.
Home, she thought. That place wasn’t a home. Not with Billy gone.
He led her to his car, and she slid into the passenger seat. She’d never felt so numb, as if she were dead. She closed her eyes and only opened them again when the car stopped in her driveway.
She stared at the house that she’d thought would be the place she and Billy would find happiness. They were finally free of Frank, and she’d been filled with such hope when she’d rented the house.
She’d hoped that Conja Creek would be the place where she could work a decent job and raise Billy with the kind of stability and joy that had been missing in the first years of his life.
She’d believed the biggest threat in her life was Frank, and when she’d finally escaped his grasp she thought it would be smooth sailing. She’d been a fool to expect happiness. She’d been a fool to believe that such a state of being was even possible for her.
“Come on,” Lucas said, pulling her from her thoughts. “You need a hot shower, and we need to do something about your hands.”
She looked at her hands, surprised to see that her knuckles were cut and bloody and her nails were chipped and torn.
Wearily she got out of the car, the numbness slowly passing as a chill took over. Lucas wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they entered the house, and by the time he led her to the bathroom she was trembling uncontrollably.
He started the water in the shower and laid out a clean towel for her. “After you get out, we’ll attend to those hands.” He stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
She slowly undressed and got beneath the hot spray of water, leaning weakly against the wall. She’d never felt so empty inside, as if everything that made her a living, breathing person had been drained away.
It scared her, the utter void. Even during the worst of times with Frank she’d never felt this way. Billy, her heart cried. Where are you?
She got out of the shower and dried off. She pulled a brush through her hair, then put on the white terry-cloth robe she retrieved from the hook on the back of the bathroom door.
Throwing her dirty clothes into her hamper, she felt lost. When she opened the bathroom door, she saw Lucas leaning against the wall in the hall and she knew in that instant what she needed, what she wanted. She needed some temporary insanity and she knew exactly who could give it to her.
LUCAS SIGHED IN RELIEF as she stepped out of the bathroom. She’d scared him. As she’d frantically dug in the flower bed, she’d been like a demented woman, and he was afraid she’d snapped.
But wrapped in a white robe, smelling like minty soap and with her hair damp, she appeared to be back in control. The crazy, zealous light in her eyes was gone.
“Better?” he asked.
To his surprise she stepped up directly in front of him, so close he could feel her soft breath on his face. “No, I’m not better.” Her blue eyes shimmered as she gazed up at him. “I’m cold inside and empty and I need you to make me warm. I need you to make me feel alive again.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.
He stiffened and kept his hands at his sides, fighting the impulse to wrap her in his arms and pull her tightly, intimately against him. “Mariah, you’re in a bad place right now. We don’t want to do anything we’ll regret later.”
She pressed closer to him, and the first stir of desire didn’t just simmer inside him, it crashed through him.
“No regrets,” she replied. “I need you, Lucas. I need you to take me in your arms and make love to me. I need to make myself forget everything for just a little while.” Her voice trembled slightly.
“Mariah, I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he replied. He held himself rigid and tried not to think about her naked beneath the robe.
“You aren’t. I’m taking advantage of you.” She rose up on tiptoe and placed her lips against the underside of his jaw.
Lucas closed his eyes, fighting to be strong. But her lips were hot and sensual against his neck, and as she moved her hips against his the control he’d fought to maintain the last couple of days snapped.
He took her mouth with his, losing himself in the hunger for her and the momentary respite from the horror that had become her life and his own.
The kiss lasted only a moment, then she broke it, took his hand and led him down the hall to her bedroom. There was no hesitation in her step, and her hand held tight to his, as if she was afraid he might try to break away and run.
When they reached her bedroom, she dropped his hand and began to unbutton his shirt. As she worked the buttons, he unfastened his holster, took it off and set it on the nightstand.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this was crazy, that there was no way making love to Mariah would make anything better, easier. It would probably make things worse. When this was all over she’d probably hate herself. But at the moment her need radiated from her and he also couldn’t deny that he wanted her.
When his shirt was unbuttoned, she ripped it from his shoulders and tossed it to the floor, then she walked over to the bed, pulled down the scarlet spread and shrugged out of her robe. She stood before him naked.
His breath caught in his throat. With the sunshine streaming through the window, painting her skin in gold tones, she was achingly beautiful. As he fumbled to get out of his slacks, she slid into bed beneath the sheets.
Crazy. He knew they both had gone stark-raving crazy, but he gave in to it, refusing to allow doubts any room in his head. He placed his wallet on the nightstand, then, as naked as she, he got into the bed and pulled her into his arms.
There was a frantic desperation in the kiss they shared, and her naked skin against his drove him half-mad with desire. She was warm and sweetly scented and it had been a very long time since he’d been with a woman. Work and Jenny had kept him busy, and it had been over a year since he’d taken time for even a superficial personal relationship.
But it wasn’t just that he was overdue for sexual release that had him gasping with want. It was Mariah herself.
She’d been nothing more than the mayor’s secretary when this all began, but in the past couple of days Lucas had seen her interminable strength, and she’d shared with him her past heartaches. He admired her and he liked her, and that as much as anything fed his desire for her and only her.
Their lips remained locked as his hands cupped her full breasts. Her nipples sprang to attention at his touch, and he grazed his thumb over them as she uttered a soft moan.
He broke the kiss and instead nipped lightly at the side of her slender neck, down across her collarbone, then he captured one of her erect nipples in his mouth.
She wound her fingers into his hair as he licked and sucked. She arched to meet his hardness, but he wasn’t ready to take her yet. He wanted her mindless with pleasure, knew that’s what she wanted … to be mindless.
He ran his hand down the flat of her stomach, down across her hip bones and touched her intimately. She gasped and at the same time she grabbed him. Her hand was warm around him, and he drew a deep breath to steady himself, not wanting to rush things.
He moved his fingers against her, and her breathing quickened as her entire body tensed. Once again he covered her mouth with his as he felt her getting closer to her release.
She whispered his name and he nearly lost it and at the same time she arched and cried out with complete pleasure.
“Take me,” she said with a thrumming urgency that radiated through him. “Please, Lucas. Now, please take me now.”
He rolled off her and grabbed his wallet, fumbling for the condom he carried inside. It took him only a moment to get it out and on, then he positioned himself above her and gazed down into her eyes.
“It’s not too late to stop,” he said, his voice hoarse and ragged. “You can stop this right now if you want to. I won’t be mad.”
She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek, her eyes filled with a depth of emotion. “Don’t stop,” she said.
He entered her, sliding into her awaiting warmth with a slow, sure stroke. She moaned her pleasure and wrapped her arms around his back.
Slowly he moved against her, but it didn’t take long before his own frantic need moved him faster and faster. She wasn’t a passive lover. Her hands raked him as she threw her head back and gave herself completely to the act.
All too quickly he felt the build up, and just before he exploded, she cried his name and his release washed through him with an intensity he’d never known. He kissed her then, a soft, tender kiss.
He rolled to one side of her and she turned to face him. For a long moment her gaze remained locked with his, and in the depth of her eyes he saw her heartbreak once again darkening her eyes.
He stroked her face, a sense of failure sweeping through him. He might have taken her away for a few minutes, but until he brought her son home safe and sound, her pain wouldn’t ever let her go.
And with each hour that passed, the possibility of bringing Billy home safe and sound grew dimmer.
BILLY WAS IN TROUBLE.
Jenny stared at the sleeping little boy and feared that he wouldn’t make it through another night. The sound of his ragged breaths filled her with a fear she’d never known. He hadn’t even had the energy to get off the mattress during the day.
He’d spent most of the time just lying there, the mere act of drawing breath taking every ounce of his strength. He didn’t even have the strength to be afraid. He seemed resigned to whatever was going to happen, and Jenny wanted to weep because an eight-year-old boy shouldn’t be resigned to his own death.
She walked around the small room and wondered if they both would die here. She didn’t care so much about herself, but it wasn’t fair that a little boy die in this ugly place without his mommy to hold him, to comfort him.
If she could just find a way out, or some means to summon help. But she’d been over the small room a hundred times and couldn’t find a way to do either. She’d pulled at the boards that imprisoned them, seeking a weakness, a flaw in their prison, but there was none.
She’d just sunk to the floor when she heard the sound. A boat. A motorboat. Maybe it was help! A search party. She sprang to her feet, hope raging through her. Maybe Lucas had found them!
Or maybe it was their kidnapper returning. The hope that had momentarily surged through her transformed to fear. She stood perfectly still, frozen as the sound of the boat grew closer … closer … then finally stopped.
There was a moment of complete silence, then heavy footsteps rang against wood. Jenny stifled a scream. If it were help, then somebody would have yelled. Somebody would have shouted their names.
The footsteps drew closer, then a slat in the door opened. Jenny ran to the door. “Hey … hey, you’ve got to get us out of here! He’s sick. Billy has asthma and he’s in bad trouble.”
Dark eyes peered back at her, then the slat closed.
She slammed her fists against the door as she heard footsteps going away. “Wait, please come back. Did you hear what I said? He’s in bad trouble. He needs to get to a hospital.” Again and again she slammed her fists against the wood as she began to cry. “Don’t go. For God’s sake don’t leave him here.”
It was only when she heard the motor on the boat start up again that she stopped beating the door and sank to the floor in tears.
He was leaving. He was leaving them here. Tears blinded her and she fought against the deep sobs that welled inside her.
She turned and saw Billy watching her. She quickly swiped at her cheeks. She didn’t want to cry in front of him. She didn’t want to upset him any more than he already was.
“Hey, buddy.” She scooted over next to him and pulled him into her arms. His wheezing seemed to intensify. She needed to distract him.
“Have I ever told you that female alligators usually lay about fifty eggs? Can you imagine having fifty kids?” As she told him everything she’d ever known about alligators and crocodiles, she felt him begin to relax against her.
But she couldn’t relax for, more than fear of her own safety, her biggest fear was that when morning came, Billy would no longer be breathing.