Colleen Coble (37 page)

“Which is probably when you had the big fight Leah over-heard.” Curtis felt more and more sick. His sweet sister had been so naive, but hadn’t they all? “So you went into hiding until Zoe found you and agreed to pay up if you’d finish one little detail and eliminate Grant so he couldn’t spill the beans about who hired him.”

“That’s it in a nutshell,” Ben said. “I leave tomorrow, and this will all be over.”

“What about Heather?”

Ben shrugged. “I thought she might know where Raine was. I wanted to get her to safety.”

Tears rolled down Amy’s cheeks. “You could have asked Dad for money. There was no need to resort to blackmailing Preston.”

Ben kept the gun trained on Zoe. “I owed some bad people a whole lot of money. Dad would never give it to me, and I know enough about these dudes to be certain that I’d be in a box if I didn’t either pay up or get out of the country. I decided it was better to skip out, just disappear.”

“And we’d never know you were alive and living somewhere else.” Amy’s voice was choked. “You’re not the man I thought you were. You hid your true nature very well.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes you have to do what you have to do. One thing leads to another, and then you’re too far in to back out without losing everything. So how about it, sis? I don’t want to hurt you. Do I have your word?”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “What about Curtis and Zoe?”

“I can’t trust them like I can you. I don’t have any choice here.”

Amy’s cold fingers crept back into Curtis’s hand. “Then no. I love Curtis. I can’t stand by and watch him die.”

Curtis’s heart kicked in his chest at her admission, but there was no time to examine what she’d said until he took down Ben.

Something rustled in the vegetation, then Fabio stepped into
their path. The horse neighed. Amy’s eyes widened, and she gave that peculiar whistle. The horse trotted toward her, though he rolled his eyes at Ben. She dug out a handful of dried herbs from her pocket and fed it to him.

Ben’s attention was on the pony. “Did you call that horse?”

While Ben was distracted, Curtis leaped without waiting for another opportunity. His body barreled into Ben’s, and they both toppled into the marsh. The water was only a foot or so deep, but it smelled of swamp and mud. Curtis came up spitting the nasty stuff, but at least he had Ben by the throat. He staggered to his feet and dragged Ben up with him. The gun was gone, lost in the marsh. He had to manhandle Ben to shore.

When they stepped onto dry ground, he found Amy had Zoe pinned to the ground on her stomach. He took off his belt and tied them both as well as he could.

“Now to turn them over to the police,” he said.

Amy nodded, but her eyes were filled with tears. There was little joy in this turn of events.

Heather bent over with her hands on her knees as she struggled to draw in a breath. With the sun falling, it was dark in the woods, but she held on to what bit of courage she had left. Watching Amy, she’d come to realize how selfish and cruel she’d been. Helping to take that little girl. What had she been thinking? Now that it was over, she hated herself. Hated how gullible she’d been, how easily deceived.

The only way to redeem herself was to find that baby and get her back. As she’d run away from Amy, Heather remembered something Bossman had said.
“The hole in the wall.”
He was supposed to meet Grant there. They might still be there. It had been
easy to catch a ride in the back of a truck. She’d waited until the driver wasn’t looking, then hid under the tarp. Grant had often referred to his tiny house at the tip of Hope Island as his hole in the wall. If Bossman knew about it, he might have taken the baby there.

Her feet hurt, and her lungs burned from running. She had to have hiked a good five miles by now. She stood and took another deep breath, then got going again. The place was just ahead with a lone light shining out the back window. If he was there with the baby, what was she going to do? How could she get Raine away from him? He was much too big for her to take on by herself, and she’d left her cell phone behind when she’d run away from Amy.

Her feet touched the damp grass of the yard. She took off her sandals so they’d make no noise and tiptoed to the back door, then peered in its window. The place was just a two-room shack, but Raine sat in a crib shoved into the corner. She was sucking her thumb. Heather almost cried when she saw the little one alive and in relatively good condition. She wasn’t crying or anything, so maybe he’d been good to her. There was even a little doll on her lap.

His head against the back of the broken-down sofa, Bossman slept with his mouth open. A woman in the other piece of furniture, a wooden rocker, sat knitting. She was older and had Bossman’s chin and nose. His mother? It was hard for Heather to wrap her head around the fact that a man like Bossman could even have a mother. She noticed a beer on the little stand by the sofa and prayed he might be too drunk to see her sneak in and grab Raine. But she still had to contend with the older woman.

What if she distracted her? Maybe broke something in the front yard that she’d go to investigate. Then when the mom went out the front door, Heather could zoom in the back and grab Raine. It was worth a try.

Heather rummaged in the trash and grabbed the necks of four beer bottles. Rounding the house, she hefted two bottles in each hand and tossed them to the center of the road. As they shattered, she darted around the back and raced to the door.

Through the window, she saw the woman get up and hurry to the door. Bossman was still in a drunken stupor. Heather eased open the door and dashed through the kitchen to the crib. In seconds, she had Raine in her arms and was hightailing it out the back door. The little girl’s hands clutched Heather’s neck, but she didn’t cry.

Heather raced out the door and pulled it shut behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the older woman entering the front door.

Without waiting to see if she’d notice the child gone, Heather ran with every bit of strength she could muster for the shadows. There was help just down the road, a neighbor. Once she found other people, she would ask them to call the Hope Island sheriff’s department or the FBI.

“Dude?” Raine asked. Her fists were tangled in Heather’s hair.

“We’re going to find him,” Heather promised. Her heart squeezed when Raine smiled and put her head on her shoulder.

She glanced behind her and saw a wash of light from the open back door. Either Bossman or his mother was looking around outside. Putting on more speed, she raced for the dim light of a house in the distance.

A man’s voice bellowed behind her, and she dared another glance behind. Bossman was running this way, but she wasn’t sure if he’d seen her or if he was just looking. When she jogged to the right, he did too, and her stomach plunged.

He’d spotted her with Raine.

She wasn’t going to make it to the safety of the other house. And did she dare bring down his wrath on some unsuspecting
occupants? Her gaze frantically scanned the landscape. There was a rowboat along the shore to her right. Changing directions, she leaped to the pier where it was docked and untied it.

She stepped into it with Raine, then put the baby down and grabbed the oars. Raine started to wail. “I’ll hold you in a minute, baby.” With a few strokes, she was away from the dock and heading away from land.

Shouting and swearing, Bossman stood swaying on the dock. He raised his fist. “Come back here and I won’t shoot!”

Heather rowed harder, her back protesting at the unfamiliar exertion. Bossman shouted again, then dove into the water. His big head popped out of the waves, and his muscular arms pulled him quickly toward the boat.

What was she going to do? A few more strokes and he’d reach them. He was liable to tip them all into the water, and Heather didn’t have a life vest on Raine, who was wailing even louder where she sat on the bottom of the boat.

Her gaze lit on a metal fishing box, and she picked it up. It was heavy enough to do some damage. Standing up with it in her hands, she waited for him to get nearer. When his meaty hand grasped the side of the rowboat, she brought the box down on his head with all her might.

He didn’t make a sound, but his hand fell off the boat, and he disappeared under the water. Heather grabbed the oars again and rowed for the next house down.

F
ORTY

A
n FBI SUV and Sheriff Bourne’s truck, both with lights flashing, were parked in front of the Kendrick summerhouse. Ben and Zoe had been taken into custody, and a news helicopter circled the property looking for a place to land as Amy walked away with Curtis. The sand would be crawling with media in another hour. This was big news and would be retold on crime shows for years to come.

Sunset hovered on the horizon with calming golds and lavenders that eased the tension from her shoulders as she walked the dunes with Curtis holding her hand. The FBI agents had practically thrown him out of the house so they could interrogate Zoe to find out where Raine had been taken.

He stopped and looked back at the house. “They have to get it out of her.”

She squeezed his fingers. “They will. Let’s give them a few more minutes. If she doesn’t crack, I’ll get them to let me talk to Ben about it. He’s pretty broken now.”

The dunes were thick here. She stood in the soft sand and watched the sky darken over the ocean. “I should call my parents and warn them.”

“There’s no cell service out here. Once we’re allowed back inside, we can use the landline.”

She nodded. “I’m not looking forward to it. There’s such a mixture of feelings—joy that Ben’s alive and total despair over what he’s done. I don’t think they’ll take it well.”

He squeezed her hand. “Who would?”

His dear face, so open and honest, made her heart hurt. He’d never been anything but the man he showed on the outside. The events of the past few months had shown her how much she’d deceived herself and others. She hid too much of who she was, but no more. From now on, she was not going to be the hypocrite her brother was. She intended to let other people in, to show her faults and trials. No one was perfect. Trying to make believe only led to heartache.

His smile broadened, and she glanced at Curtis from the corner of her eye. Would he say anything about what she’d said to Ben? About loving him? She kept trying the feeling on for size, and it fit amazingly well. Love. She’d never thought to find herself in this situation again. She thought Curtis felt something for her, but watching his face, she wasn’t sure it went nearly as deep as her own feelings.

“Penny for your thoughts,” she said.

He turned his head and held her glance. “I’m not sure where to start.” He lifted her hand and pressed her palm to his lips. “I love you too, you know. When you told your brother how you felt about me, I wanted to kiss you.” He grinned. “Obviously, the time wasn’t right then.”

“But it is now,” she murmured as he pulled her close.

His lips were warm and tender. The scent of his breath was pleasing and slightly minty. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with every bit of love in her heart. She’d never felt this way before, not ever. Ian had never made her feel like Curtis—safe, protected, and cherished.

He finally lifted his head and smiled down at her. “I never
thought to find someone like you, Amy. I love you. We’re going to be so good together. I want a lifetime with you and our kids.”

His head lowered again, but she put her hand on his chest and pushed. A cold chill swept up her spine. He had to know something before this went any further.

“I—I have to tell you something.” Her throat was tight and her eyes burned. She swallowed hard.

His eyes darkened. “You sound serious. Or scared. I can’t tell which.”

“Both,” she admitted. “I realize now that I should have said something sooner, before both of our feelings were involved.”

His eyes crinkled in a smile. “I was a goner from the first day.”

She wanted to smile, but it was too serious. Would he walk away too? Her lips were dry, and she wet them. “I—I can’t have children, Curtis. I had a hysterectomy two years ago. It was ovarian cancer.” She hated saying the word. It made her feel unworthy, unclean.

He sobered at once. “Cancer? Are you all right?”

She nodded. “The doctor was sure he got it all, and I had a round of chemo to be sure.” She touched her curls. “That’s why this is so short. It takes awhile to grow out.”

“How’d they find it?”

“I had some routine blood tests run, and a CA-125 was accidentally marked. It’s usually not done in a physical. Mine came back high, so they did an ultrasound and found it. Stage one. I was lucky. So many women aren’t.”

Instead of pushing her away, he pulled her close, close enough that she could hear his heart thudding under her cheek. She let him hold her while she waited to hear him tell her how sorry he was. How he’d pray for her but it was best they found this out now. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she clutched his shirt for this last embrace before the dream ended. It had always been too good to be true.