A Family Homecoming (14 page)

“I understand Kyle is real handy around the house,” Angela said with a perfectly angelic expression on her face and an imp in her eyes. “Lily Mae Wheeler told me he was an expert on home repairs.”

Kyle appealed to Shane. “Can't we lock that woman up on some charge for ten or twenty years?”

“Let me think on that. In the meantime, I have some repairs to do at our place. You interested in exchanging help on the big projects?”

“Sure.”

The conversation turned to old houses and repairs and the men's plans for their respective places. Danielle joined Angela in teasing them unmercifully about the quality of their work.

“Well, one thing—we work cheap,” Shane concluded.

Danielle laughed with the others. When the couple left, Kyle helped her clean up. She washed dishes while he dried.

“That was fun,” he said after a comfortable silence. “Thanks for including me.”

She looked a question at him.

“You don't have to,” he said, his manner matter-of-fact, his eyes mysterious as he watched her. “Everyone knows our arrangement is temporary, only until we catch the men who took Sara.”

“You said you were going to stay in the area. You may as well get to know some of the locals. You'll be working with Shane and Sterling and Rafe on other cases in the future, won't you?”

“That's right. I believe in the law enforcement agencies working together, rather than fighting each other.”

“A good idea.”

He smiled briefly.

“What?”

“You.” He gazed into her eyes. “Just you.”

Her heart speeded up. Sometimes, when he looked at her, it seemed as if all the gentleness in the world was gathered in his eyes, and then she felt she was the only woman in the world and that she mattered, really and truly, to him.

Her heart filled with yearning. If only they could go back and find whatever it was that had been lost.

He touched her temple. “It's all right,” he murmured. “Don't worry so.” He left to make his rounds.

After looking in on Sara, then getting ready for bed, she wondered at his words. Her mother had often said it didn't pay to worry about life, that whatever was going to happen would do so with or without a person giving herself a heart attack over it.

It was the uncertainty, she decided, that caused people to worry. Waiting for the kidnappers was like waiting for the other shoe to drop…only it felt like a guillotine was suspended over her head.

 

Kyle entered the truck stop out on the state highway. Two truckers sat at the counter. A rather scruffy-looking man sat in the booth near the front window. Kyle told the waitress he wanted coffee and went over to the booth.

“How's it going?” he said, taking a seat.

Luke Mason grinned at him from behind a week's growth of beard. He was dressed in ragged jeans and a thick sweater, a hole in one elbow, over a chambray shirt. “Things are fine from this end. How about yourself?”

“Nothing happening here on the kidnappers. It's driving me nuts.” He sighed in disgust.

“Yeah, you always liked to be in the action.” He eyed the undercover agent. “I put in the word for you to take over the field office here. You up to that?”

Kyle knew what his friend was asking. “I'm ready. Shuffling paper sounds pretty good after the last two years.”

Luke studied him some more. “Something has changed. You're different, I think.”

Kyle nodded. “I got my priorities straightened out.”

“That letter from Danielle?”

“It…” He searched for words. “I made a decision concerning my family without giving them a say in it. Without even telling them what the decision was. That was stupid of me.” He gave a snort of bitter laughter. “It taught me a lesson, one that isn't over yet.”

“She going through with the divorce?”

Kyle flashed Luke a challenging glance. “Not if I can help it.”

“Too bad. I always thought she was pretty special.”

Kyle subdued the urge to sock his friend in the teeth. He knew Luke was ribbing him. He also knew his friend admired Danielle and thought he was damned lucky to have her. That had never been in question.

“What are you doing in these parts?” Kyle asked after his coffee had arrived and the waitress left.

“Well, now that my best undercover man is out to pasture, so to speak, I'm handling a couple of things on my own. We're shorthanded at the office. Did I tell you the old man had a heart attack?”

“No.” Kyle was surprised. The agent they called the “old man” was older than the other men and had prided himself on staying in shape.

“Yep, right in the courthouse on the witness stand. He's going to be okay, but he's on R and R, too.”

“Anything you need help on?” Kyle felt compelled to ask.

“No. You just take care of that sweet little family of yours.” Luke sipped his coffee, then grinned over the rim of the cup. “It's good that you're keeping busy. I hear you're into home repairs these days.”

Kyle groaned. “That story is going to haunt me the rest of my life. How the hell did you hear about it?”

“I was talking to a detective here, name of Sterling McCallum. You know him?”

Kyle nodded. “He's a good man.”

“So are you,” Luke said on a serious note. “You'll do a fine job in the field office here.” He handed Kyle an envelope. “Congratulations. It's official.”

Stunned, Kyle stared at the envelope as if it contained bad news, such as the one Luke had handed him from Danielle. He opened the letter and found the confirmation that he would be in charge of the local field office starting March 1.

As the local field director, he would assign agents to tasks great and small in a vast area. The FBI was spread rather thinly in the wide open spaces of the West.

“Do I still report to you?”

Luke shook his head and grinned. “I think you're one up on me now. You'll report straight to headquarters.”

Kyle left the truck stop an hour later, his mind on
the upcoming job responsibilities. There was one question on his mind. How would Dani see this change?

His step quickened as he thought of home and family.

D
anielle entered the Hip Hop shortly before noon. The place was already crowded. She spotted Winona Cobbs at a table for two. The psychic waved her over.

“Join me,” she invited. “I've been worried I was going to be without company this morning.”

Her long gray hair was neatly braided into a coronet around her head, emphasizing her plump face and genial manner. Danielle liked the woman who was considered the local eccentric with her “visions” and the sort of glorified junkyard she owned.

“Thanks. I'm feeling rather lonely this afternoon. Sara is on a field trip with her class.”

“She's doing well, I've heard.” There was a question in Winona's tone.

“Yes.” Danielle laughed softly as she picked up the menu and opened it. “I had vowed if she ever
talked I was never going to tell her to shut up again. This morning at breakfast, she kept chattering while Kyle and I tried to discuss the day's plans. I drew a line across my mouth.” She demonstrated. “That's a signal she's talking too much and is supposed to zip it up. I couldn't believe I'd reverted to the ‘children should be seen' scenario so soon.”

Winona's blue eyes crinkled in delight at the story. Her laughter made Danielle feel better.

“We are what we are,” she said.

Danielle digested this remark. “That sounds like one of those cryptic statements that leads to another.”

The seeress nodded. “Your husband is a good man.”

The waitress came for her order before she could reply.

“You two have been in my thoughts lately. I've hesitated to say anything,” Winona continued when they were alone. “I didn't want you to think I was a nosy busybody.”

“I won't think that,” Danielle promised. Her smile evaporated. “I wish I knew what the future holds. For Kyle and me as a couple, for us as a family. We're in a kind of limbo at the present.”

Winona nodded solemnly. “His is a protecting spirit. He will always be in law enforcement. If he tries to leave, his soul will wither away.”

Danielle listened attentively to the older woman. Whether she spoke from vibes or past experience or just common wisdom, her words made sense and affirmed much of what Danielle instinctively knew was true concerning her strong, silent husband.

“You will have to accept him as he is,” the psy
chic continued after a pause, “or you will have to give up the marriage and him.”

The pain speared deep into Danielle. She had known this, too, although she hadn't put it into words. “What about my needs? Don't they count for anything?”

Winona looked sympathetic, but didn't answer.

“It seems we must always consider the male's needs, but women are expected to ignore their own. Why? I want to be included in his life and in the decisions that affect us as a family. Is that too much to ask?”

“No,” Winona agreed. “Have you told him?”

Danielle sighed, then smiled ruefully. “I've tried.” She spread her hands. “I'm not a violet who will droop without daily attention, but he stayed away for two years. Two years without a word. He can't just walk back into my life, and Sara's, then be gone again.”

“Ah,” Winona said. “So that's the crux of it. Foolish on his part. He needs to find the courage to face his fear of something happening to you and young Sara.”

“If we should die, you mean.”

“Yes.”

Danielle stared at the older woman. “I don't think I could bear it if he were killed. Or Sara.”

“I think you could.”

Winona took her hand in hers. Danielle felt the surprising strength in the older woman's touch. There was something very comforting in it. The psychic closed her eyes and sat very still.

“You have the strength to endure,” she said after
a minute or so. “You held together during the time Sara was gone. You've been there for her since she returned. You are stronger than you ever imagined.”

When she finished speaking, Winona sat back and dropped her hands in her lap. Danielle felt the loss of connection at once. Something about this old wise woman touched her and drew her into a shared web of experience.

The sisterhood of women, she mused. That common bond of womanhood, of being wives and mothers and the keepers of the light, part of something bigger that extended backward and forward into time and stretched outward to cover the world, crossing all barriers of age, race, money, beliefs.

“Sometimes I don't feel very strong,” she admitted.

“We all feel that way at times. Even men.”

Danielle's meal was delivered, but she hardly tasted it. While they talked of ordinary matters, her mind mulled over the past and the future. She had decisions to make and, she now realised, only she could make them.

Later, going to the grocery and running errands, she considered what those decisions should be. By the time she went to pick up Sara at school at three o'clock, she hadn't come to any conclusions.

After this is over, she promised, half listening to Sara's chatter about her field trip to the Indian museum, she and Kyle would talk. Together, she decided. They must decide together what each would give and what each would take and whether their marriage could work on that basis.

“We saw a million bones,” Sara continued. “They
were from dead people who lived here a long time ago. You can tell lots of things from bones. One was a baby. And a skull of a girl Ms. Lynn said was six years old. It made me and Jenny sad. Why did she die?”

“She might have caught the flu,” Danielle said. “They didn't have doctors like Dr. Carey back then. We're very lucky nowadays.”

“Yeah. I like Dr. Carey. Except when she gives me a shot.”

“The nurses usually give the shots.”

“Yeah, but
she
tells 'em to.”

Laughing, Danielle pulled into the garage. Kyle's truck wasn't there. She knew Luke Mason had called and talked to him the previous night. Another case?

Her blood chilled at the thought. “Come on, let's get the groceries and get inside.”

They gathered an armload of bags. The wind blew fiercely as they crossed the path to the mudroom door.

“It's colder,” she said, stopping to unlock the door. “There's a cold front moving in. We'll be getting more snow tomorrow probably.”

“Oh, goody. School will be out. We can go sledding down the hill again, huh?”

Danielle shook her head. Sara was only in kindergarten and actually loved school, but she was already gleeful about snow days. By first grade, school would be passé, indeed. She pushed the door open with the toe of her boot and reached inside to turn off the alarm system.

 

“Hold it right there,” a rough male voice commanded.

Danielle turned from the counter when she had deposited her groceries. Two men stood in the kitchen. She realized the outside door hadn't closed completely behind her.

Sara stood in the middle of the floor, her eyes huge and her hands pressed over her mouth. With the sickening sensation of falling in an elevator, Danielle realized she was face-to-face with the kidnappers. One of them held a gun pointed at her.

She didn't stop to think. With two running steps she was between Sara and the men. “Run, Sara! Run! Go to Jenny's house!”

Moving as she shouted, she lunged straight for the men, taking them by surprise. The smaller man stepped back, jostling the man with the gun and pushing them back into the mudroom.

“Run! Run! Run!” she screamed and plowed headfirst into the two men.

She grabbed their shirts up close to the throat and held on like a bulldog with a bone. Behind her, she heard a frightened squeal, then Sara's receding footsteps.

One of the men hit her arm. She nearly lost her grip. She wrenched back and forth on their shirts and brought her head up under the chin of the bigger guy. He cursed and beat at her back with the butt on his gun.

Hearing the slam of a door, she sagged in relief. Sara was out of the house. Now if she could just manage to hang on to the men and not get herself killed, help would come soon.

Using one foot, she hooked it behind the men's legs and yanked as hard as she could. They all went down
in a heap in the small room. She heard thuds as her attacker's heads hit the washing machine on one side and the sink on the other. Both men cursed.

Grimly pleased, she wished the blows had knocked them out. No such luck.

Energy poured into her arms, and she struck out blindly, catching the smaller guy in the mouth. She felt the bite of his teeth into her knuckles, but the pain barely registered. She went for his eyes.

“Bitch,” snarled the other man. “You'll pay for this.”

She scrambled back from them, kicking with all her might to keep them distracted while she reached for her gun.

Point and fire.

She repeated the words in her mind like a mantra as she drew her weapon. At that moment, the bigger guy caught her ankle and shoved her leg aside. He threw himself across her. She heard the clunk of her gun as it hit the floor. Her arm was trapped under her. She couldn't move.

The kidnapper's eyes narrowed. “Get her gun,” he ordered the smaller man.

“What gun?”

“The one she has behind her.”

His breath touched her face. His eyes showed no mercy, only a maddened hatred at being thwarted. She heaved her head forward and hit him on the chin.

“You…”

That was the last she heard. His gun crashed into her temple and the world blinked out.

 

“She's here somewhere.”

Danielle heard the words from a distance. Her mind
was strangely groggy. Opening her eyes and looking around wildly, she realized she couldn't move. A piece of tape covered her mouth. Her arms were taped behind her, her ankles to the legs of a kitchen chair. She glanced around fearfully. Sara was nowhere in sight. That was good.

She glanced at the clock on the stove. She'd only been out a few minutes. She prayed Sara was safely at Jenny's house and Jenny's dad was busy rounding up some cops to come to her rescue. She wondered why she was still alive.

“We've got to find the kid.”

“Hell, Dillon, she ran off,” the smaller man said. “She's probably halfway to McCallum's house by now.”

The man called Dillon smiled. “She's here. Kids don't run far from their mommas.”

“I heard the door slam,” Willie insisted.

“It wasn't an outside door,” Dillon said, his eyes on her. “We would have felt the air flow if it had been.”

Despair filled her. He was right. Cold air would have flowed into the house and sucked at the ill-fitting back door. Where had Sara gone?

Keeping an eye on them, she began to work the tape loose from her mouth, using her tongue to moisten it so it wouldn't stick. She worked on her wrists, too, and found the tape loosening somewhat. Each time one of the men glanced at her, she held still, her heart thudding so hard she marveled that they didn't hear it.

Another odd thing—she wasn't afraid. After the
first shock of seeing them and her fear for Sara, it was as if she had accepted the worst: they would kill her—and it no longer had the power to terrify.

“Go look for the kid,” Dillon ordered.

“Where?”

Danielle didn't miss the resentful tone. Neither did his partner.

Dillon shot the other man a withering glance. “In her room. In closets. Under the bed. Didn't you ever play hide-and-seek when you were a kid?”

“No,” Willie said sullenly. He walked into the hall.

Danielle heard his footsteps in the family room. Attuned to every nuance, she followed his progress from room to room. She heard the opening and closing of closet doors, the screech of furniture as he moved things out of the way. Every muscle in her body was frozen in dread of hearing Sara's cry of terror or his of triumph if he found her.

Finally, after twenty minutes, he returned. “She ain't in the house,” he announced.

“Hell,” Dillon said. “Do I have to do everything myself?” He got up and came to her.

With a snatch that nearly ripped the skin off her face, he removed the tape from her mouth.

“Where is she?”

Danielle stared at him without answering.

He slapped her, then leaned close. “If you want to live to see sundown, you'd better tell us where she hid.”

Danielle gave a snort of laugher. “I don't know where she might hide. Neither would I tell you if I did—”

Ring. Ring.

The three of them jerked around as if controlled by a single puppet string. The phone rang again.

“You expecting anybody?” Dillon asked.

“Yes,” she lied. “An officer from the sheriff's department is supposed to come over.”

Dillon stared at her for a long moment. “You're lying.” He turned to Willie. “Come on. We'll both look. Did you go upstairs?”

“Uh, no,” Willie admitted. “I don't think a kid would go up there. It's dark and cold.”

Dillon laughed cruelly. “You big chicken,” he scoffed. “Come on. This time we're going to look in every room.” He led the way into the hall.

Please, oh, please,
she silently prayed.
Please don't let them find Sara.

She couldn't figure out if her daughter had actually made it out of the house. Her spirits lightened. Maybe Sara had gotten away. Maybe she was on her way to Jenny's house right now.

Reality returned with a thump as she heard furniture being overturned in one of the bedrooms. A crash indicated her office had been invaded. Dillon was trashing the place while he searched.

She realized she had never come upon a truly ruthless, uncaring person before. Dillon had no compassion in him. She saw that in the flat, opaque glare of his eyes. He cared nothing for anyone or anything, a man without a soul.

These were the type of men Kyle dealt with constantly in his job. These men were the ones he fought to bring to justice day after day. Sometimes the courts set them free on a technicality after Kyle and his co-
workers had risked their lives—and sometimes lost them—in making the arrest. How did he stand it year after year?