Lure of Song and Magic (25 page)

Thinking like a kidnapper had never been one of his talents.

Chapter 32

Pippa woke up Monday morning to a pillow still damp from crying herself to sleep. In irritation at her weakness, she punched the feathers, checked the time, and forced her feet to find the floor.

She hated sleeping alone. One of the best parts of marriage had been having Robbie there to comfort her when she woke up with stress-related panic attacks. Until the nights when Robbie hadn't been there and her life had fallen apart.

She missed having Oz's broad back in the bed beside her, providing the physical security she'd never had and the sexual tension that she relished. She missed his husky murmurs and his arm reaching to drag her back, telling her without words that he needed her.

In a few short weeks, she had grown far too dependent on an arrogant man who wanted to rule her life.

Even she knew that argument was full of holes. So she stood in the shower and soaked her head.

Conan had sent someone with a rental car and Gloria's ID last night. The man was uncanny. Pippa fretted that he'd tell his brother, but so far, a furious Oz hadn't shown up on their doorstep. Maybe Conan could calm him down and explain once they were gone.

If she thought Oz really needed her, this would be harder to do. But once he had Donal back, he'd return to his old self, and he'd be fine. He needed to get back in sync with his usual business. Putting up with her idiosyncrasies would only hold him back.

She wasn't entirely certain what she would do if they didn't find Donal. It would be cruel to desert a grieving father, but maybe Oz would prefer that any reminder of his failure went away. She simply didn't know what was right in that case.

Maybe it would be healthier if he accepted that Donal was gone and move on. She just didn't think Oz knew the meaning of
give
up
. And she couldn't be Syrene for him. She feared that's what he would want—for her to go on singing, in his hope that somehow Syrene could find Donal. She wasn't that scared teenager any more. She couldn't go back to what she hadn't wanted to be in the first place. She liked who she was now. Mostly.

She finished packing her suitcase with last-minute items and then studied herself in the mirror. She was older and wiser than her teenage self, but her cheekbones and eyes couldn't be disguised. She dragged on Oz's ball cap, set her rose-colored glasses on her nose, left off lipstick, and made herself a little bit invisible. But she couldn't wear the disguise on stage while reading for the cameras.

With a sigh, she took off the cap and glasses and shoved them into her overlarge shoulder bag, added her stuffed seal to her suitcase, and zipped it up. She glanced around at the sunny bedroom she'd decorated in crisp whites and soft blue-greens, drew her fingers wistfully over the smiling flowers she'd painted on the wall by her mirror, and said her farewells.

She'd lived here longer than she'd lived anywhere. She knew how to move forward.

Gloria was garbed in her usual long peasant skirt that concealed her twisted hip. Her eyes looked shadowed as she glanced up at Pippa's entrance. “Good morning, dear. Do you have someone who can empty the refrigerator if we don't return?”

“I'll call Lizzy. She has a key. Park will help you with the bags after Oz and I leave. You'll like him. He's a lovely man, with tons of grandsons who can pick him up in Bakersfield.”

“I'd rather go with you now.” Gloria still wasn't completely happy with their plan.

“I'll be more comfortable doing what I have to do if I know you're safely in the car waiting for me. I really don't expect an audience of mothers and kids to be a problem. It's not a concert, after all. I'm just worried about what happens if Oz grabs Donal and runs. Maybe I can have someone send us a video of the show later so you can see it.”

“Maybe we can watch it on the TV news,” Gloria said dryly. “Producer kidnaps his own child. Syrene comes back to life and disappears again.”

The potential for disaster was enormous, but she refused to worry. “I kind of like that headline.” Pippa rummaged through the fruit, looking for some they could take with them in the car. “I'm liking the idea of a road trip too. I haven't done this in a long time.”

“Do you remember how to drive?” Gloria sliced an orange with a sharp clank of her knife against the counter.

“Like riding a bike. I did that just fine too. How good are you at navigating?” Pippa was thrilled to see that Gloria was perking up enough to argue with her.

“I'll need more than your old atlas,” her mother warned.

“We can pick up maps at welcome centers. It will be fun, honest. Start thinking about where you'd like to live next.”

Pippa was still telling herself that a few hours later when she strode up the walk to meet Oz.

***

Oz watched Pippa hurry up to the parking lot, swinging a huge shoulder bag, as soon as his car pulled in. He had to hurriedly finish his phone call over last-minute preparations so he could climb out and greet her. She must have been waiting for him.

She looked spectacular in a tie-dyed twist skirt that hit right below her knees and showed off her ankles in high-heeled wedge sandals. The strappy peach camisole revealed as much as it concealed, forcing him to check out the goods before giving her a happy smile. He hoped the bare skin was for him.

He caught her waist and kissed her thoroughly before she could say a word. To his relief, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back as if she hadn't seen him in eons. He loved her enthusiasm and enjoyed the blush of color on her cheeks when he finally set her down. He liked even better that she didn't shove away but lingered in his arms to lean against him. Maybe she'd recovered from Saturday's debacle.

“I missed you,” he said in a scolding tone. “You better have had as bad a night as I did.”

“Worse,” she admitted with a shrug, finally pushing back. “We'll survive. Is your crew on the way? No glitches yet?”

He opened the BMW's passenger door for her. “Moving like clockwork. I followed the set truck until the exit up here. The school will keep the entire stage area cordoned off, so we can move about freely. Costume and makeup will be there after lunch. It's a go.”

She glanced in the back. “No child seat?”

The vise around Oz's heart tightened, but he tried to keep it light. “In the trunk. Are you sure your mother doesn't want to go with us? There's room.”

“She's afraid her limp will hamper us. I told her you'd send a video. She's manning the phone, just in case.” She produced her cell phone. “I can call and tell her I'm fine.”

He was oddly reluctant to close the door and take his seat. He didn't want to involve Pippa in this. She appeared completely unconcerned, but he knew better. She'd learned to maintain calm in the face of the storm. That didn't mean a storm wasn't raging inside her. He knew so much more than when he'd brashly walked up to the day care and told her he wanted her on his show. She was shutting out the world right now, and that included him.

He wanted the real Pippa back, but Donal came first. If she needed to be Zen Pippa to do this, he could take it.

“The minute you feel uneasy, I want you to walk off the stage,” he ordered, starting the engine. “Conan is meeting us there. He'll have someone backstage who can hustle you out.”

She waved at an elderly Asian dude stepping out of an old Corolla. The man bowed back. The martial arts instructor, Oz remembered. Gloria wouldn't be good at kickboxing, but maybe she could take up karate.

Pippa was as good at organizing and manipulating as he was, just more subtle. She'd found a way to keep her mother occupied.

“I don't think there will be any problem with the performance,” she said serenely, folding her legs in the seat and adopting a yoga pose. “What's with the beach clothes?”

Oz glanced down at his Tommy Bahama shirt and jeans, and it was his turn to redden. “Donal saw me mostly on weekends when I was wearing casual clothes.”

He didn't explain further, but Pippa nodded, understanding that he hoped the clothes would help Donal recognize him.

“You have the hard part, looking for Donal,” she agreed. “I'll have the lights in my eyes and won't be too helpful there.”

There were too damned many ways for this to go wrong.

“I'm hoping the song is some kind of signal to the Librarian, maybe to let the kid loose. But he'll be confused. I hate this.” Oz pounded the wheel.

“It's just as likely the song will be a signal to start a riot or a fire,” she said with a trace of humor. “We'll have to hope my mother is right and that it's a siren song for kids. We really can't predict the results. We simply go in there and stay alert. Once I start reading, I think I can keep the crowd quiet. Maybe it will take time for them to recover before whatever happens, happens.”

He hadn't told her that the Librarian wanted her to sing. And he didn't intend to. The recording would have to be enough. He'd learned his lesson about pushing too hard when Pippa said no. He had to trust her instincts as much as he did his own.

“You're right.” He punched the CD button, and Saturday's beach music filled the car. “I put more disks in the console and in the backseat, if you want to look at them.”

Pippa flipped through the console and the ones he had in a case in back. He'd come prepared to feed her music cravings.

He almost lost it when she chose the one with the children's songs on it that he'd brought for Donal. His fingers clenched the wheel until his knuckles turned white. Would Donal remember singing those songs?

Oz didn't know what vibes he was giving off, but Pippa immediately shut off “Wheels on the Bus.”

“I'm sorry,” she murmured. “It's been so long since I heard children's songs; I thought maybe they'd be good to know…”

“It's okay. You're right. Singing a kid song might be needed for crowd control. I don't want that to happen, but it's better to be prepared. You just caught me by surprise.”

She reached over and squeezed his thigh, which drained the blood from his brain to other parts and let him release his iron fist around the steering wheel.

He refused to sound weak and say he needed her to stay in his life. He'd tell her that later, when they were both standing on firm ground again. He reached over and punched the CD on, but he skipped past the damned bus song.

***

They arrived in Bakersfield before lunch. Pippa studied the sprawling desert town with adult eyes, flinching at the rusting trailers, cars up on blocks, and old sofas sitting on front steps in the part of town where she'd grown up. Her adopted father had been a bus driver, a perfectly respectable working-class man. Her adopted mother had baby-sat and taken in foster kids.

They'd made ends meet, just like everyone else in the neighborhood. But living paycheck to paycheck… things happened. She had never blamed the Jameses for taking the opportunity to get rich when it had arrived. They may have taken in kids for the money, but they'd been kind and provided a home, which was more than the wealthy had done.

Pippa hoped her adopted parents were enjoying life now. They'd made it clear that they were happy to be rid of her and to move on, and she wished them well. They'd never really known what to do with the cuckoo in their nest, and she'd pushed their endurance to the limit.

The school was situated in a modest suburb of neat stucco houses and tiny yards. The small parking lot was already half full. She didn't know how many people would actually attend a television rehearsal with only a children's author as a draw. Depended on what else was happening that day, she supposed. Did they have ball games on Mondays?

Oz pulled up next to the sound truck. The set crew was still unloading the back of the van. Pippa felt a shiver at this familiar routine. But it was broad daylight, she wasn't arriving in a chauffeured limo with bodyguards on both sides, and this was an elementary school full of little kids, not a riot of screaming fans. She could do this, one hand tied behind her back.

“I wonder if the Librarian is watching,” she said quietly, opening her door without waiting on Oz.

He turned his headset back on and shook his head. “Want to check out the school library, just in case?”

“Let one of Conan's men do it. Or women,” she added, watching what appeared to be a teenager crossing the lot, ponytail swinging. Except Pippa knew how to spot body armor and weapons beneath the hoodie. She bet the school wouldn't like that if they knew.

Oz's headset buzzed as he held her elbow and escorted her across the lot to the rear of the school. She figured he was better off keeping his mind on the production and not whether his son was inside somewhere.

A mob of little kids raced onto the playground, and Oz froze, swinging around to watch. The kids looked a few years older than Donal would be.

They had no way of knowing if his son attended this school or any school. He'd only be in kindergarten. The school had been chosen because of its availability, not from anything the Librarian had told them. There was no reason to believe the boy was on the grounds.

There was no real reason to believe the boy was alive.

Pippa set her back teeth and tried to keep a rein on her nerves. This would be far easier if there weren't so much at stake.

Half of her wanted to stand in the middle of the parking lot and sing until the whole town showed up. The other half wanted to hide and pray all she had to do was read a book.

Park and her mother wouldn't arrive until it was almost time for the performance. Until then, Pippa had a strange desire to look around, to see if she recognized anyone, but she accepted Oz's wisdom in hastening into the dark recesses backstage where she was surrounded by his people. There was strength in uniting and circling the wagons in a defensible position. She almost wished she hadn't left Gloria behind.