Abducted (19 page)

“IT’S A GOOD THING
the bus hadn’t picked up any children yet.” Nick handed Carly a bottle of water from the paramedics on scene. She took the water gratefully and drank a quarter of it in one swallow. They both had little cuts from the safety glass. Nick’s were on the side of his face, and Carly had a couple on her arms. They weren’t seriously hurt, and miraculously, neither was anyone else. The bus had swerved onto the sidewalk and smacked into a traffic signal pole but missed hitting any of the people in the way.

The bus driver herself was shaken but didn’t need medical attention. The black car and Trejo’s red sports car had disappeared.

“For two officers who are supposed to be off duty, you sure can find chaos.” Lieutenant Jacobs had stopped at the scene on his way to work. He stood with his hands on his hips, looking at Nick’s battered, steaming truck as it was pulled onto the back of a flatbed. The bullets not only destroyed the windshield, but one had hit the radiator and coolant had spilled everywhere. Even if they hadn’t stopped to check on the bus, they wouldn’t have gotten far. Four other vehicles had been struck or caused to crash by the black car, and there were cops everywhere taking reports. The highway patrol handled school bus crashes, so they were dealing with that, but Jacobs was right—the scene was a picture of chaos.

“Sorry, LT, it just happened,” Carly said. “No one picked up either vehicle?”

“No. It’s morning rush hour. If the drivers of those cars settled down and blended into traffic, they would easily avoid detection. Fox is up—” he pointed to the police helicopter—“and will continue to search, but it looks as though they got clean away. Are you both uninjured?”

“We’re fine,” Nick said, the tone of his voice telling Carly he was just as frustrated as she was.

“Come on, then. I’ll give you a ride to the station. Nick, you can check out a plain car until you get some wheels squared away.” Jake led the way to his squad car. “And by the way, Trouble, that was quite an article in the paper. First time I’ve ever read a Trejo article that sounded like a publicity press release.”

Carly frowned. “I haven’t seen the paper this morning.”

“I’ve got a copy here.” As Jacobs climbed into the driver’s seat, Nick opened the front passenger door for Carly to take shotgun. The paper was on the passenger seat, and she began to read the article while Jacobs started the car.

“Huh,” she huffed, feeling herself blush. The piece was way over the top, and she’d only read the first couple of paragraphs.

The lieutenant chuckled. “You have quite a cheering section there.”

“I don’t know.” Carly skimmed the rest and then handed the paper back to Nick. “I’ll have to have a talk with him.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts. Soon Trejo will be back to cop bashing.”

Carly settled back in the seat and shook her head. That had been Mary Ellen in Trejo’s car, and she’d eluded capture again. She heard several hopeful sightings over the air, but as everything wound down, the girl was still missing.

At the station, the topic of interest was the 998. Since it had happened so close to shift change, Carly and Nick were greeted by the graveyard units who’d responded as they were coming in at end of watch. They all filed their reports in the same room, and as everyone sat, a comfortable camaraderie pervaded the room until Sergeant Nelson stuck his head in.

“CHP officially called off the chase for the Town Car. It’s in the wind,” he said.

Carly cocked her head. “Thanks for the update.”

The sergeant left, and Carly turned back to the banter going on around her. The one positive of this whole frustrating day was that while she watched Nick, she saw the old Nick—the optimist, the man she fell in love with and married. She prayed he’d stay this way just as hard as she prayed they’d find Mary Ellen soon.

• • •

Not long after the sergeant left, there was a knock at the door. Carly looked up to see a welcome face in the doorway.

“Hey, Joe!”

He said hello, and all the other officers in the room piped up to greet him. When everyone was finished, he gave Carly a hug and then leaned against the desk where she sat.

“It’s great to see you,” she said. “What brings you down here?”

“I was listening to my scanner and heard some of what happened this morning. I was hoping you’d fill me in on the details.”

“Of course—I was going to call you. Better to tell you in person.” She started from the early-morning phone call and told him about the fire.

“Oh, I missed that part. I must have gotten out of bed after the fire. I couldn’t figure out what you and Nick were doing there. Now it makes sense.”

As she finished the narrative, he frowned. “I never thought I’d say this, but I feel sorry for the girl. Christy and I were talking, and . . . well, A.J. is fine—he didn’t lose any weight, no diaper rash. We missed him, and we were terrified with him gone.” He paused and swallowed. “We would have preferred that we hadn’t lost him for a minute, but we’re thankful he’s home, healthy and happy.”

“I’d never condone what she did, but I think there’s more going on than we know. And while Mary Ellen needs to be apprehended, she doesn’t deserve a death threat from Sperry.”

“I agree, and I want to help. Let’s go over her juvenile file again, this time with a fine-tooth comb. I know you have already, but I want to get to know this girl, maybe find a way to help her.”

Carly looked over at Nick, who’d been listening. He nodded. “Can’t hurt. I’ve got to deal with my truck and the insurance company. Not sure how they’ll handle the fact that I was in pursuit. I’ll meet with you two upstairs later.”

Carly stood. “Okay. Come on, Joe. Let’s visit homicide and go through the hard-copy file. It’s easier to see everything that way.”

Together they headed for the elevator.

CARLY AWOKE WITH A START,
heart beating madly. She’d heard something. Rolling over onto her back, frowning into the darkness, she listened and waited while her heart rate slowed to normal. Had she heard something, or was it just a bad dream? She’d taken Maddie over to Nick’s house earlier. Since she didn’t have a roommate, she’d felt it would be best for the dog to stay where there was a dog door. So there was no four-legged alarm system to confirm whether there had been a noise.

Thump, thump, scrape.

There it was again. Someone was in her apartment. Fully awake now, Carly sat up and swung her legs from under the covers and out of bed, wincing as she bumped her knee against the corner of the nightstand. Ignoring the soreness from the car chase, she grabbed her off-duty weapon from the stand and went to the door, then placed her ear to the wall and listened.

When she heard nothing else, she wondered if she’d just imagined the noise or if it was her upstairs neighbor moving around. The clock said 4:30 a.m. She had been sound asleep for about five hours. And before that, she’d had more than a couple of full days.

Scrape, scrape.

Briefly she wondered if Mary Ellen was out there, ready to turn herself in. Carly and Joe hadn’t come any closer to finding her, but they had learned a lot about her. She’d lived in a group home for a time and then started shuffling through the foster care system. At one foster home, she helped take care of several infants who were placed temporarily in the home for various reasons. That helped explain why she was so good with A.J. In her last foster home, she’d complained to a social worker about a male foster child in the home harassing her and had been waiting to be placed elsewhere. Joe guessed she got tired of waiting and ran away.

Frying pan into the fire, Carly thought, and now the girl was on the run in a big way. She had spent time with a burglar who was adept at breaking into houses, and she certainly knew where Carly lived.
I still haven’t figured out how she got my address, but it would be too easy to think she’d just walk in and surrender.

Sighing, she knew she’d have to check the apartment or she’d never get back to sleep. She quietly opened her bedroom door and crept into the hallway. Holding the gun at her side, she eased herself toward the living room. She saw a shadow and stopped. Someone was in her apartment, sitting in her recliner. Drawing in a deep breath, she moved closer, and more of the figure became visible in the light that poured through the window from the streetlamp.

Not Mary Ellen—it was Andi.

Carly relaxed, but bewilderment now creased her brow. For the first time she could remember, her normally flashy and well-put-together friend looked disheveled and unkempt. What would she be doing here at this time of morning? After a long moment, Carly cleared her throat.

“Hey, Andi.” Twisting the gun in her hand, she said, “Whew, glad I didn’t have to call 911 to report a dead burglar. Paperwork would tie me up for days.”

Andi looked up at her, and as Carly stepped closer, she saw bloodshot eyes and a face with no makeup. “I still have my key and let myself in,” Andi explained. “Sorry I woke you.”

“I usually work graves, remember? I thrive on no sleep.” She put her gun on the kitchen counter and moved to sit on the coffee table in front of Andrea. “What brings you here now? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, what’s right?” She uttered a foul word. “I’ve made a mess of things.” She leaned forward and put her head in her hands. The despair in her voice broke Carly’s heart.

“Did something happen with you and Hal?”

Andi sniffled and shrugged. “Hal was a mistake . . . one in a long line of mistakes.”

When she began to cry, Carly put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, why don’t I make some coffee and we’ll talk about it?”

Andrea looked up and nodded. “I could use some of your coffee. I miss it. You make the best.”

Carly stood and walked to the kitchen, praying for strength and the right words. She’d never seen Andi shed a tear over any guy. Something else was going on, and she wanted to do and say the right things for her friend.

While she started the coffee, Andrea went to the bathroom to wash her face. As the coffee dripped, Carly grabbed a couple of mugs and wiped off a clean counter for something to do. Never having seen Andrea in such a state, she was at a loss. She remembered her mother’s words:
“She needs to know she’s loved. And job or no job, man or no man, Jesus will always love her.”

Carly drank her coffee black but knew Andrea liked flavored creamers. She opened the refrigerator and thanked God there was still some creamer inside. She put it on the counter with the mugs and a spoon. Andi came into the kitchen just as the coffee beeped finished.

Carly filled their mugs and waited at the table while Andi doctored hers. “So what’s going on?”

Andi sat down and took a sip. “I was with Hal yesterday when you put out that 998—that you and Nick were shot at.” She shivered. “I didn’t realize how scared I was that something could happen to you.” She choked back a sob. “Oh, Carly, I couldn’t bear that, especially with the way I talked to you the other day.” The tears fell.

Carly didn’t know what to do but let her cry. When she composed herself, Andi looked at her over the rim of her mug and said, “I almost lost everything—my job, my self-respect, and my best friend. You’re like the sister I’ve never had, and I’ve been so stupid.”

“Andi, I—”

She held a hand up. “No, let me finish. I never got over my mom’s crash. You remember how she almost died?” Carly nodded, and Andrea continued. “John walked away unscathed. And then he was in church praying for her when it was his fault she was hurt so bad!” She grabbed a napkin and blew her nose. “But you’re not John, and I was treating you as if you were. I’ve always thought Christians were hypocrites, but if I’m honest, I know you and your mom aren’t. But I’m reserving judgment on Nick for now, okay?”

Carly relaxed a tad. “Fair enough.”

“Bottom line, when you told me you might reconcile, I just panicked. I don’t want to live alone. I hate that there isn’t someone to talk to when I come home, someone who listens and understands and who doesn’t want anything from me. I even hate that there’s no dog wandering around getting hair on everything.”

She paused but Carly stayed silent, the lump in her throat telling her she’d be as big a mess as Andi if she tried to speak.

Andi swallowed and continued in a broken voice. “I envy what you and Nick have. I know you think I hate him because he cheated. But as twisted as it sounds, I hate him because he might really have changed enough for the second time around to work. When you broke up and moved back in with me, I’d forgotten how great we got along and how good a friend you were. Even though I called you judgmental, you were anything but. You just accepted me, no matter how out of control I got. I—” Her composure broke again, and this time so did Carly’s.

Carly got up and grabbed her weeping friend in a hug even as her own tears fell. “Hey, you
are
the sister I never had, Andi. Of course I accept you. I love you.”

The two sobbed, and Carly felt Andi’s tight grip. After a few minutes, Andi pulled away and reached for the box of Kleenex on the counter. “I have to get through this; I really do. There is so much that needs to be said.” She blew her nose again.

Carly smiled and took the box. “You better get it all out. Look what you did to me,” she said as she took several tissues, blew her nose, and wiped her eyes.

Sniffling, Andi said, “I’m sorry I stormed out of here the other day. I’m sorry for a lot of things. I may be losing you as a roommate, but I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I’ll even be nice to Nick.”

“Andi, all is forgiven. I was never mad at you—a lot frustrated, but not mad. And I don’t want to lose my best friend either. There’s just one thing I need to get off my chest.”

“What?”

“I really think you should reconsider your relationship with Sergeant Barrett.” She made a face and felt the knot in her stomach evaporate when Andi laughed.

“You’re so right. There’s a lot in my life that needs to change.”

Carly refilled their mugs, and they left the kitchen to get comfortable in the living room.

“Tell me about the kidnapper bringing the baby here and everything that happened yesterday.”

Carly did. When she finished, Andrea leaned forward, brow crinkled in a frown. “So your pastor is actually the kidnapper’s uncle?”

“Yeah, he was scared away from fighting for her ten years ago. His faith failed him. He’s really torn up about it.”

“But he’s still the pastor?”

“Yeah, of course. Why?”

“Well, gosh, Carly, he’s the pastor. How can his faith fail? Isn’t he supposed to be perfect? That doesn’t happen to you and Nick.”

Carly put her coffee down. “What do you mean? Of course it does. No one has perfect faith 100 percent of the time, especially not me and Nick.” The bumpy road she and Nick had traveled to reconciliation came to mind. “Why would you think that?”

Andi sat back, looking perplexed. “I don’t know—you’re so good, so noble, not at all like John. I figured to go to your church, to be a Christian, would mean being more perfect than I can ever be.”

Carly laughed. “No, no, no. God doesn’t ask for perfect people. He doesn’t even demand perfect faith. We can’t be good enough or perfect enough. We have to trust Christ to be good enough for us.”

Andi’s expression was one of interest, and that was the opening Carly needed. As they continued to talk, the morning dawned bright and clear, and before the pot of coffee was finished, Carly shared with Andrea about a love that was perfect, that would never leave her or let her down.