Furious (25 page)

“What was Joe Henderson looking for?” Agent Jensen asked Faith.

Detective Yuhasz stood close by.

Dad sat on the couch next to Faith.

“Joe admitted to helping one of his clients launder money. When the business took a dive, he stole a large sum of money from that same client and hid it at my house on Rolling Greens Lane.”

“And he thought you had the money?”

“Apparently.” Until her children were back in her arms, she refused to hand over the money.

“Anything else?”

“Yes. He admitted that Craig had no knowledge of illicit funds being laundered through the business.”

“I have to ask you again. Did you ever come across a large sum of money at the house on Rolling Greens Lane?”

“No,” she said, her patience running low, refusing to let him get to her, refusing to hand over what could be her only bargaining power. “Joe hid money at
our
house, the house I shared with my husband and two children. Joe is the reason Craig is dead and my kids are missing. I want to know what you people are doing to find my kids.” She looked over at Detective Yuhasz. “What are
any
of you doing to find my kids?”

Detective Yuhasz shifted his weight from one foot to the other while Agent Jensen shoved a hand through his hair and said, “Joe Henderson said you held a gun to his head. Why?”

“What would you do if you saw a man snooping around your backyard in the middle of the night?”

He couldn’t argue with that. He shut his notebook and stood.

“Your people confiscated H&M records and computers,” Faith said, wanting confirmation that Richard Price was the man she needed to talk to. “My guess is that you knew from the start that Joe was money laundering, which tells me you must know which client he was laundering for. I want to know his name, and I want to know if you’ve questioned him.”

Agent Jensen raised a brow, then looked at Agent Burnett, who nodded.

“Richard Price was the client in question. Being that he was recently found dead on the side of the road, we were unable to question him.”

“Murdered?” she asked.

He nodded. “Took a bullet between the eyes.”

F
ORTY
-T
WO

As soon as Derek realized Sean had run out the door, he scrambled after him, but not before fumbling with the lock and then shouting at someone in the cabin to help him find the kid. Hudson looked at the other boys. He saw panic in their eyes. Once Sean was found and dragged back to the room, they would all pay for his mistake.

If they were going to escape, it had to be now.

Hudson and Denver had the same idea at the same time and they both rushed to the corner of the room and started pulling at the baseboard with renewed energy and determination. The other boys caught on quick and started helping. The first layer of dirt was hard and packed in there pretty good, but Joey took off his shoe and used it to dig. Pretty soon the dirt was crumbly and loose. Five minutes later, they had a hole big enough for Joey to squeeze through.

A gunshot sounded in the distance, and they all stopped digging. Quiet fell over them. A few seconds passed before they started clawing at the dirt again. Denver was the biggest, and he knew the hole needed to be bigger if he was going to have any chance of escaping. His face was red from working hard and fast. Sweat dripped from his forehead.

The air coming through was colder than the chill inside the room. “Blankets,” Hudson said. He jumped to his feet and ran around the room gathering blankets. He grabbed the deck of cards. Hudson was surprised when a pocketknife fell from the pile in his arms and hit the ground with a clank.

Denver looked over his shoulder as he dug. “I stole that today from one of the idiot guards.”

They all froze when they heard the men shouting to one another.

“We’ve got to hurry!” Hudson rushed over to the hole and started shoving the blankets outside to Joey. Aiden climbed out next and then Hudson. Denver was still digging when they heard two men talking right outside the door.

“Come on, come on,” Hudson said in a panicked whisper. “There’s no more time!”

Denver crawled halfway through the hole before his hips got stuck. He grimaced and pushed.

Hudson grabbed one of his arms and pulled. “He’s not budging,” he told the other guys, “Help me pull him out.”

The other boys came to help. One of them tried to loosen the dirt around Denver’s waist while the other kid hooked an arm around his other shoulder. They counted to three and pulled hard.

This time Denver slid out.

They grabbed the blankets and ran as fast as they could. Aiden took the lead, then skidded on his feet up ahead, stopping in front of a dark shadow that Hudson thought was a fallen tree branch until he got closer and saw that it was Sean. He’d been shot in the back. Never had a chance.

Denver knelt at Sean’s side and felt for a pulse, then nodded his head. They stared at him for a long moment before someone said, “We have to go or that’s going to be us.”

Voices in the distance spurred them onward, causing them to scramble and break off in different directions. Denver and Aiden cut to the left. Joey followed Hudson to the right.

It was cold and growing dark.

Hudson focused on the ground, doing his best not to trip on dead branches or pinecones. The men chasing them were much older, which was why Hudson decided to run up the mountain instead of down. He could hear Joey at his side. The kid appeared to be in decent shape. He wasn’t breathing too hard.

They needed to keep going. If those men shot Sean, there was no reason to think they wouldn’t kill them all.

The next thought that ran through Hudson’s mind was,
What would Grandpa do?

F
ORTY
-T
HREE

“All you had to do was keep an eye on a few young girls. How hard could that be?”

Diane sat across from Aster and tried to think of some way she might be able to turn this impromptu meeting around. She used to know exactly what to do to soothe him, but ever since walking into his office, she’d felt as if she were talking to a stranger. “How was I to know that Jasper would betray me? He’s been with me for many years. I had no idea he’d fallen for the stupid girl.”

“That’s because you’ve obviously been neglectful of your duties. Attention to detail has never been your forte. You’re too selfish and foolish to mind anyone but yourself.”

“That’s not true. I used to spend every waking hour watching your every move, figuring out what I could do to make you happy. I gave you everything, and in return, you made me into nothing more than a babysitter.”

He came slowly to his feet. She instantly wilted beneath his virility. All resentment melted away as he came to stand behind her, so close she could smell his aftershave. The first touch of his fingertips on both sides of her face caused an electrical current of pleasure to wash over her. She leaned her head back into the palms of his strong hands, wishing he would carry her to the fur rug set before the fireplace and make sweet love to her. Instead she felt his fingers slide down her chin and over her throat, stopping there. His fingers dug into her flesh. The harder he pressed, the more difficult it was to breathe. She struggled to get loose, but he held tight.

“You are to watch over those girls,” he said, enunciating every word, “as if they were your own flesh and blood. If you feel as if you can’t do your job properly, then you need to let me know so I can remedy the situation. Do you understand?”

She couldn’t speak. She needed air. She pulled at his fingers and managed a small nod of her head.

He dropped his hands to his side and told her to get out.

She gasped for air as she stumbled from his office.

Faith stepped out of the shower and peered into the mirror. The knot on her head was purplish gray. Even without the bruises, she hardly resembled the woman she used to be. Thinner, yes, but also . . . hardened. The happily married fourth grade elementary teacher was gone, erased in an instant, wiped clean like the chalk from a chalkboard.

They are everywhere. Hotels, restaurants, truck stops, and regular-looking homes that you pass every day on your way to the post office.

Marion Carver’s words kept repeating themselves over and over in her mind. She thought of Miranda. At the moment it seemed she was Faith’s only hope of finding the whereabouts of the farmhouse. With that in mind, she dressed quickly, then grabbed her bag and her keys and hurried downstairs, where she found Miranda eating eggs and bacon while Mom ran around the kitchen, making sure she had everything she needed.

“Thanks, Mom,” Faith said. She looked at Miranda. “Are you ready to go?”

Mom frowned and pushed a plate of scrambled eggs her way. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“She’s right,” Miranda said. “You’ve got to eat.”

Faith sighed. The last thing she needed was one more person telling her what to do, but they were both right. She needed to eat. She dropped her bag to the floor, pulled out a stool, and took a bite. After she finished everything on her plate and gulped down the orange juice, she looked at Miranda and said, “Do you think Lara is still at the farmhouse?”

Miranda thought about it as she chewed. “I sure hope so.”

Three hours later, Faith and Miranda were still in the car. They had driven on CA-99 from Sacramento to Stockton and now they were on their way back. They had stopped in Lodi to fill the gas tank and grab a sandwich. So far nothing along the highway had stood out for Miranda. There was a lot of flat farmland on both sides of the highway, and truthfully it all looked the same. Trying not to feel discouraged, Faith merged back onto CA-99 from East Lockeford Street headed back toward Sacramento. Fifteen minutes later, Miranda cried out for her to pull over.

Faith yanked on the steering wheel. The tires screeched, tossing up gravel as she pulled to the side. The car behind her honked as it passed.

Faith’s heart rate spiked. “What is it?”

“That sign! Andy’s Farm. I’ve seen it before. Turn around! We need to take the exit we just passed.”

Once it was clear, Faith merged back onto the highway, then sped ahead and took the next exit and found her way back on the highway going in the other direction. A few minutes later she got off the exit Miranda had pointed out. They drove for a mile or two before Miranda shook her head. “This doesn’t feel right.”

Faith got back on the highway and took every exit, driving for a few miles before turning around and repeating the process. They were both quiet, but neither of them was ready or willing to give up.

“Do you think I’ll ever get to see Christopher . . . you know . . . before I die?”

Beast and Rage had been sitting in a coffee shop on Del Paso Road across the street from Bill’s Liquor Store for most of the morning. He looked at Rage, and despite the fact that they had done everything they could to find Christopher’s adoptive parents without results, he said, “I do.”

“How do you go on day after day knowing you’ll never see your wife and daughter again?”

“There was a time I didn’t want to go on. I remember waking up that day and thinking ‘Peace out, world. I’m done.’ I got up, climbed in my truck, and started driving to Nowheresville. I didn’t want to live any longer. And for the first time since my wife and child’s death, I didn’t think about Dad or anyone else’s feelings. I only thought about how nice it would be to end the pain and suffering.”

“So what happened?”

“I was driving around town looking for the right spot to pull over and put a quick end to it all, and that’s when I found you.”

Her eyes welled with tears. “Maybe it’s time I stopped being so angry.”

“Maybe so,” Beast said. “It wasn’t your fault you were born to parents who weren’t capable of taking care of a child or that the man you ran off with made you his own personal obsession. You gave your baby up for adoption out of love. You alone paid the price for everyone else’s mistakes. We’ll find Christopher, and I will stay on this earth for the sole purpose of making sure your son grows up knowing how very much he was loved by his mother, a compassionate young woman who never put herself before anyone.”

“Beast?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For finding me and taking me in.”

He looked at the girl sitting before him—such a fragile being. Despite her condition and the fury she held inside as if it were her lifeline, she had hopeful eyes and a peacefulness about her that he was sure no one else noticed. He loved her as if she were his own daughter. He didn’t want to lose her, but until that day came, he was thankful for every moment she was here on earth. Before he could find a way to express his feelings, since he’d never been good at such things, she grabbed her bag and jumped to her feet. “Looks like our guy is finally taking a ride.”

Beast looked out the window. Sure enough, a well-dressed man, clearly not the same guy who worked behind the cash register, exited the store. Dressed in a dark suit and tie, he opened his umbrella, went to the street corner, pushed the button, and waited for the light to change.

“You get the truck,” Rage said, “and I’ll keep my eyes on him.”

A few minutes later, Beast found Rage running on the side of the road. He stopped long enough for her to jump inside. “He’s up ahead, in front of the red Prius.”

“What’s he driving?”

“A black Chrysler 300. New. Speed up or you’re going to lose him.”

Up ahead, Beast saw the Chrysler weave through traffic. He did the same, then sped up and nearly clipped the back of a car before rocketing through the intersection.

Rage tightened her seatbelt. “Look at him. He took the curb just to get around the car in front of him. He must know he’s being followed.”

The light turned red. Without hesitating, Beast also drove on the curb and went a step further by cutting across the grassy park area. Thanks to the bad weather, there weren’t any people on the grounds.

Rage hung on to the console and said, “Over there. To your right.”

No sooner did he see the Chrysler out of the corner of his eye than the driver took a sharp left. Determined not to lose him, Beast sped up and cut between two decorative palm trees, his truck flying off the sidewalk. Tires rattled and horns blared as he cut through traffic, then made a sharp left. They both caught a glimpse of the Chrysler up ahead.

“What’s he doing?” Rage asked when she saw the sedan pull to the side of the road and come to a complete stop. She didn’t have to wonder for long. As soon as they caught up to him, the driver leaned out his car window, aimed, and fired. Pop. Pop. Pop. The gunfire echoed off the buildings around them.

“Hang on!” Beast said right before he rammed into the back of the car. Both of them lurched forward as metal crunched and tires screeched. With his hands clamped tight on the wheel and his foot hard on the brake, he looked over at Rage. “Are you OK?”

She tugged on the seatbelt tight across her chest. “I’m fine.”

Smoke poured out of the back of the Chrysler. The tires spun and then he was off again, taking a sharp right back onto a main road.

Rage held tight while they weaved through traffic once again. The underbelly of his truck rattled. The light turned red. The Chrysler sped through the intersection, zigzagging through cars and leaving Beast in the dust, stuck behind a long line of cars.

Beast hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand.

Sirens sounded in the distance.

“Let’s get out of here,” Rage said.

Beast waited for the cars to move out of his way, then he made an illegal U-turn and headed back for the liquor store. Ten minutes later, he parked on the curb. They both climbed out and headed inside.

“Nobody’s allowed back there,” the clerk said when he saw Beast walk to the back of the store, tossing empty cardboard boxes out of his way as he made a path. Ignoring the clerk, he tried to open the door to the back room. It was locked. He stepped back. One kick did the trick. The door flew open, smacked against the wall, and hung sideways on one hinge.

There was a chair, a desk, filing cabinets, and shelves all wiped clean.

Rage opened all the cabinet drawers to see if anything at all had been left behind and then repeated the process with the desk. “Empty,” she said.

Beast headed back out to where the clerk held the phone to his ear. He took it from the guy and tossed it across the room behind him. “Who was the man that used to do business back there?”

The kid shrugged. “Dude, I have no idea. I just work behind the counter and mind my own business.”

Beast pulled one of his bounty hunter business cards from his wallet and laid it on the counter. Then he pointed a finger at the kid and said, “If the man comes back, I want to know about it.”

The kid nodded and they walked off.

After driving past miles of endless farmland, Faith pulled to the side of the dusty road and turned toward Miranda. “Does any of this look the least bit familiar?”