Special Forces Father (10 page)

A stabbing pain caught Kate in the pit of her stomach. She gasped.
“Please,” she said pitifully, then caught herself. She took a long breath. “If I don’t show that I’ve evaluated Senator Stamps and the situation thoroughly, I could be reversed on appeal.”

The man laughed. “I know that, Doc. But I don’t give a crap about appeals. You swing the temporary-insanity plea and I’m outta here. Look. I don’t have a dog in this fight. I’m doing what I was hired to
do. Now I’m suggesting you do what I’ve told you. And you’re going to have to do it faster, because the trial date’s been moved up. What you’re going to do hasn’t changed, now, has it?”

“No,” she said. “It hasn’t changed.”

“Now I’ll call you again, and when I do, your phone better not be in someone else’s hands. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” she said, her breath hitching with rising panic.
Don’t hang up,
she begged silently. “Yes, it’s clear.” Dear God, she wanted to ask him, to beg him, to let her speak to Max. But he’d already warned her once. She held her breath, waiting to see what he was going to do.

She heard a soft scraping sound, as if he’d put a finger over the speaker, then nothing but silence. It went on for so long that she looked at the display, afraid that he’d
hung up. But just as she put the phone back to her ear, she heard a woman’s voice, far away, as if she were in another room.

“Settle down. I’m coming,” the woman said, then, “Come on, honey.”

Max.
Kate’s heart squeezed so tightly in her chest that she thought she might pass out. She felt Travis’s hands on her upper arms. He guided her back to the couch and she sat. She switched the phone
to her left hand. The right one was cramping from holding it so tightly.

“Max?” she breathed.

“Okay,” she heard the man say, holding the phone away from his mouth. “Just a couple seconds. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the woman said irritably. “Honey,” she said tenderly, “say hi to Mama, okay?”

“Mommy?”

The small, anxious voice took Kate’s breath away. She put her hand over her
mouth to stop the sobs that escaped her throat. “Ma-ax?” she stammered, then held the phone against her chest, trying to muffle the speaker so her baby wouldn’t hear her cry.

“Mah-mee?” Max’s whine, muffled by her blouse, ripped through her like a razor blade.

“Oh—” she wailed, every inch of her body aching with the pain of being separated from her child. She squeezed her eyes shut.
Travis took her right hand in his and held it to his chest. She could feel his heart beating through his skin, through his ribs, through the flesh of his hand that surrounded hers. She didn’t know how he did it, but just the rhythm of his heart and the warmth of his hand gave her strength.

She lifted the phone to her ear. “Max, hi,” she said, as calmly as she could. She didn’t open her eyes,
but she did force a smile, hoping it would come through in her voice. “Hi, honey.”

“Mah-mee? Where are you? Come get me. I wanna go home.”

“Maxie, honey, I know. You’ll be—” She held her breath, trying to stop the sobs. Travis’s hand squeezed hers. “You’ll be home real soon.”

“I don’t like this place,” he said. “They don’t got movies. I wish I had my car.”

“I know, sweetheart.
It won’t be long. Don’t you have any toys there?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, yes, ma’am.”

Kate smiled through her tears. He was just learning how to say yes and no ma’am. She clutched at her chest. Oh, she felt so empty without him. “What kind? Good ones?”

“There’s a bear and a big choo-choo train, and some books.”

“That’s great. Can you read the books? Do you remember the words
I showed you?”

“That’s enough,” Kate heard the kidnapper say.

She crushed the material of her blouse in her fist. “Max? Maxie, honey?”

“Mommy? Mahhh-meeee!” he cried suddenly, bursting into tears. “Mahhhmeeee-hee-hee?”

“Get him outta here!” the kidnapper growled. He’d taken the phone away from Max.

Kate heard Max crying and screaming “Mommy” as he was carried back to wherever
they were keeping him.

“You bast—”

“Watch out, Doc, if you know what’s good for you and your son. I mean it.”

Kate did her best to compose herself. She sucked in a harsh breath and spoke crisply. “You have to tell me that you’re taking care of him. Is he getting enough to ea-eat? Is that woman staying with him all the time?” The more questions she asked, the calmer she became. There
was
someone there taking care of her child. Max had actually sounded fine. He hadn’t started crying until the man took the phone away from his ear.

“You just do what you’re told and your kid’ll be fine.”

Kate blotted tears from her cheeks. “I’m trying to. Just please tell me—” She heard a click, and the line went dead. She turned to Travis. “He hung up,” she said, holding out the phone.

Travis took it from her and looked at the display, then set it on the coffee table and held out his arms. Kate didn’t hesitate. She went to him.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. It felt right, as if they’d never been apart. “You did good.”

She shook her head against his shoulder. “I did horribly. He might have let me talk longer if I hadn’t been so demanding when
I first answered.”

“No, I don’t think it so. He let you talk to Max a long time.”

“A long time?” She was surprised. “It wasn’t even a minute.”

“Abductors don’t like to let the hostage have too much contact with the outside world. It makes them harder to subdue. Dawson said this guy was a professional, and I can see that he is.” Travis turned his head so his lips were near her ear.

She could feel his warm breaths and the fast, hard beating of his heart.

“It’s also better for the hostage not to have contact with anyone on the outside,” he continued. “That way they won’t waste so much of their energy screaming and crying and trying to figure out ways to escape. The sooner the hostage accepts his fate, the easier his life becomes.”

Kate frowned. What was he talking
about? Certainly not about Max. She pulled back and looked at him questioningly.

“What?” he said. He touched a damp spot on her cheek with a finger. It stung. She’d cried so much and wiped the tears away so often that the skin of her cheeks was raw.

She didn’t say anything, she just kept watching him, noting, as she had the first time she’d taken a good look at him, the paleness, his
drawn features, the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that his clothes hung from his shoulders, at least a size too large, if not more.

“Come on, Kate. You’re looking at me with that
I’m a shrink, don’t try anything
look.” He held up a hand in a halfhearted gesture, as if trying to shield himself from her eyes.

“Oh, Travis. You weren’t just on a mission, were you?” she asked softly.
“You were captured. You were held hostage.”

He stared at her for a brief moment, his mouth set, his eyes flat.

She touched his shoulder, but he shrugged off her hand. “Talk to me,” she said softly.

But he turned away. He walked over to the window and looked out on the darkness. “I had a tough mission, that was all. It was long and hard and lonely.”

“Come on, Travis. I know
it was more than that.”

He turned back around and his face was expressionless. “You might be a shrink, but you’re not my shrink. I left Walter Reed because I didn’t want to hear all this. I’m sure not going to accept hearing it from you.” The words were cutting, but Travis’s tone was neutral, maybe even bordering on kind. Then, with no change in his expression or his tone, he asked, “How
are you doing?”

Tears stung her eyes again. She massaged her temples with her fingertips. “I’m okay,” she said, her voice thickening with the urge to cry. “I’m not sure if I’m going to ever stop crying, though.” She gave a slight laugh. “Not until Max is home—” A little hiccup cut her sentence short and she felt what little resolve she had left crumble.

“You need to go to bed,” Travis
said, eyeing her closely. “You’re exhausted. I know for a fact you were restless all last night. Between you and the wooden car sticking into my back, I didn’t sleep very well, either. This stress is eating you up inside.”

“I can’t sleep,” she said dismissively.

“Come on,” he said with a smile. “Don’t try to tell me that a physician doesn’t have some kind of sleeping tablet or tranquilizer
around the house.” His voice went from neutral to gently amused.

She shook her head. “I don’t want to take anything. What if something happens during the night?”

“Nothing’s going to happen during the night. Besides, I’m here.” His shoulders moved in a small shrug.

Kate started to protest again, but Travis spoke first. “I’ll bet you haven’t eaten all day, have you? Want some soup?”

She shook her head. She didn’t think she could swallow anything.

“Okay. I know. I’ll make you some hot chocolate while you go put on your pajamas and climb into bed.”

“I should—” she began. “I need to—” But suddenly, her insides felt as though they’d run out of steam. Maybe she should have hot chocolate in bed and take something mild, just for tonight, just this one time, while Travis
was here to take care of anything that might happen during the night. She felt guilty—for wanting to sleep while Max was being held by strangers, for allowing Travis to take over all her responsibilities.

He stepped close to her and lifted her chin with his finger. “You won’t be any good to Max if you walk around in a fog,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “You need rest so you can work
out what you’re going to say in your evaluation of Stamps.”

“You’re right.” She sighed. “I’ll go to bed. I’m going to set my alarm for seven, so I can get into the office and work on the evaluation. I’ve got to schedule Stamps’s interview, too. I haven’t talked to him yet.” Kate went into her bedroom and changed into a cami top and pajama bottoms, then went into the bathroom and opened the
medicine cabinet. There was a bottle of children’s cough medicine. She checked the label. Sure enough, it contained a mild antihistamine that was often used as a sleep aid. Reluctantly, she swallowed one child’s dose and washed it down with a few sips of water from her bathroom glass. Then she got into bed and picked up the Nero Wolfe mystery she’d been reading, and stared at it as she waited for
Travis to bring her a cup of hot chocolate.

She thought about Max and wondered if he’d had anything warm to drink before he went to bed. That set her eyes to burning and called up a nasty little headache at the base of her skull. She closed her eyes.

Some time later, she was aware of the lamp being turned off and Travis lying down on the bed next to her. In a sleepy haze, she turned
and snuggled next to his warm body, resting her head on his shoulder.

“You awake?” he whispered, hardly more than mouthing the words.

“Kind of,” she whispered back.

“Have you slept any?” he asked, pressing his face into her hair.

He felt her nod. “A little,” she said. “I dreamed about Max.”

“Good dreams?”

A tiny sob escaped from her throat. “Yes. Very good dreams.”
She snuggled closer to him. “Travis?”

“Yeah, hon?” The way she said his name, hesitantly, tentatively, he was sure she was going to ask him to get up. To sleep in the living room on the couch. That she wanted to be alone.

“Stay here.”

That surprised him. “Here? You mean here, in bed?”

Her head moved up and down. “I need you close to me. I’m afraid if I’m alone I’ll fall apart.”

“Hey,” he said, turning his head toward her, “I told you, I’m here for you. Anything you want, you just tell me and you got it.”

She moved, pulling herself up and leaning over to kiss the side of his face. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know how you showed up at the exact moment I needed you.”

He turned his head and pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I don’t, either, but I’m—” His
words were cut off by her lips, soft and tentative on his. He was afraid to move, afraid he’d break whatever spell had been cast between them. He closed his eyes and breathed in the strawberry scent of her hair and kissed her back, as softly and sweetly as she was kissing him. Despite the gentle sweetness, he began to become aroused. He suppressed a moan of frustration.

“Travis?” she whispered
drowsily, her lips moving against his.

His pulse sped up. But he knew she was not only drowsy from the medication but exhausted. He set his jaw and forced himself to ignore the tantalizing feel of her soft, full mouth on his.

“I think I’m getting sleepy now....” Her words faded at the end and he felt the tension in her body relax as she fell asleep.

Now he did moan, low in his throat,
then closed his eyes and listened to her soft, even breathing.

Chapter Seven

Kate woke up from a pleasant dream that she didn’t remember. She opened her eyes and saw that it was light outside. She checked the clock on her bedside table. It was almost eight o’clock. How had she slept so late?

Then she remembered. Travis had talked her into taking a dose of Max’s cough syrup last night. Plus the blue-gray color of the light seeping in at
the edge of the blinds told her that it was cloudy, maybe even raining, outside.

Travis. She glanced at the pillow next to hers. There was an indentation there. A contented, safe feeling enveloped her as she remembered him turning off the light and lying down next to her. She remembered wanting to kiss him. Wanting to do more than kiss him. But she’d been so sleepy after her shower and the
tiny dose of antihistamine. Closing her eyes, she let herself drift back to last night. She had kissed him. She’d almost asked him to make love to her.

Then, with the swiftness of a blade cutting the air, her thoughts turned to Max and her safe, sexy, comfortable feelings dissolved. Her little boy wasn’t safe or contented. He was in a cold, unfamiliar bed, and when he woke up, he’d want his
mommy.

“Oh, Max,” she whispered and pressed her palm against her chest. How much longer could she stand it without him? It had been two days. Before today, she’d have believed she couldn’t survive for two hours without knowing where he was.

Now she faced the knowledge that it would be days until the trial started, and who knew how many days before the court ruled on whether Myron Stamps
had been temporarily insane when he’d shot Paul Guillame. Her eyes filled with hot tears that scalded her tender skin as they slid down her cheeks.

She threw back the covers and got up. In the hall, she glanced into Max’s room, half expecting to see Travis on the bed asleep, but he wasn’t there. The couch in the living room was empty, as well.

“Travis?” She glanced back down the hall
toward the bathroom, but its door was open and the light was out. “Travis?” she called again. Her gaze snapped to the coffee table, where she’d left the phone last night, but it wasn’t there.

Her hand pressed against her chest again as rising panic stole her breath. Where had he gone? To see his cousin again? The hand clutching her chest clenched into a fist and rose to her mouth. She pressed
her knuckles against her teeth as a heavy emptiness settled deep in her heart.

For the first time in her life she understood what a patient meant when he or she said they were tempted to take a handful of tranquilizers and climb into bed. She was so tempted to sleep until all this was over and Max was home again. The realization that she could even consider putting her child’s safety into
someone else’s hands while she withdrew from the world surprised and terrified her. She paced back and forth from the front door to the far wall of the living room and back again, wringing her hands as more tears coursed down her cheeks.

Her carefully constructed life was falling apart. She’d worked hard to make this house into a home for herself and Max. The two of them were a family. They’d
been happy and contented and safe, until the kidnapper had snatched her little boy—her world—away from her. She paced, unaware of the time, her mind so scattered with fear and helplessness that she couldn’t compose a rational thought.

Then, on one of her turns away from the front door, she heard it swing open. She whirled without thinking, her reaction an instinctive one, responding to the
sound and nothing more.

Travis stepped inside. He was in sweatpants and a T-shirt and running shoes, and he was soaking wet. He stood on the tile floor just inside the door and wiped his face with a small towel, then rubbed it across his dripping, tousled hair.

“Travis,” Kate whispered and flung herself into his arms.

“Hey—” Travis said, staggering backward. He caught himself and
held his hands up and out. “I’m wet. Kate, what’s the matter?” he asked, grasping her upper arms and setting her away enough so that he could look into her eyes.

“I woke up and didn’t know where you were,” she said.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I went out for a run—well, actually it was a short walk, around the block. I was sure I’d be back before you woke up,” he finished with a shrug.

Kate stared into his eyes and saw herself as he saw her. Immediately, she shook off the sleepy haze. What
was
the matter with her? She remembered the classic definition of insanity. Performing the same actions over and over and expecting different results.

How many times was she going to fall apart when he left? Granted, he hadn’t been gone at all—this time. But she had enough anguish, enough
heartache, just dealing with Max being abducted. There was no way she could survive getting sucked into missing Travis again.

“Sorry,” she said coolly, not wanting to tell him the whole truth. “I woke up dreaming about Max.” She shrugged. “I got upset.” She did her best to hold Travis’s gaze when his eyes narrowed. She knew that look. He knew she wasn’t telling him the whole truth.

After a moment, he nodded. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

She made a dismissive gesture. “I’m okay.”

He looked down at his wet clothes. “I’m dripping all over the floor. I’m going to take a shower, if that’s okay.”

Kate nodded.

Travis stood there for another second or two, then headed for Max’s bedroom, where he’d stowed his duffel bag.

“Travis?” she called.

“Yeah?” he
said, stopping at the door.

“Where’s the phone?”

“Oh.” He fished in the pocket of his sweatpants. “Here. I took it with me, in a plastic bag so it wouldn’t get wet. I didn’t want you to have to answer it alone.”

She took the baggie with the phone inside it and stared at it as he headed into the hall bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Didn’t want you to have to answer it
alone.
Kate grimaced as his words replayed in her head. “Don’t be nice to me,” she muttered.

She was still holding the phone, encased in its plastic bag, when it rang. She jumped, almost dropping it, and her heart leaped into her throat. It had to be the kidnapper. She glanced down the hall, but the bathroom door was still closed and she could hear the shower running. The phone rang for the
third time. One more ring and it might go to voice mail. She couldn’t take that chance. The kidnapper had warned her that she’d better be the one answering the phone the next time he called.

She flipped the phone open. The display said
Private Number.
She pressed the answer button. “Hello?” she said.

“This is Dawson Delancey. Is this Dr. Chalmet?”

Kate felt light-headed with relief.
“Y-yes,” she said breathlessly.

“I’m Travis’s cousin. We’ve met a couple times in connection with cases.”

“Yes, Mr. Delancey.”

“Call me Dawson, please. May I speak to Travis?”

“He’s—in the shower,” she told him.

“Okay. I’d told him I’d call last night to find out what the kidnapper said, but I got tied up on a case.”

“He was angry that you answered. He had told me
not to tell anybody. He said that if someone else answered this time I would never see—” her breath hitched “—never see Max again.”

“So did he let you talk to Max?”

“Yes, he did.” To her dismay, her eyes filled with tears just thinking about his little voice saying,
Come get me, Mommy.

“Did Max seem to be okay?” Dawson’s voice turned gentle.

“I—I think so,” Kate stammered.
“He wanted his favorite car, but he said they gave him a stuffed bear and a train. And I heard a woman’s voice in the background talking to him nicely. So I think he’s being cared for. He didn’t sound upset until—”

Just as she smelled the clean, fresh smell of soap and felt the brush of cotton terry cloth, Travis’s hand covered hers. He pulled the phone away from her ear and pressed Speaker.
“Dawson, it’s Travis. You’re on speaker with Kate and me.”

“Hey, Trav. Kate was just telling me about how Max is doing. Kate, you were saying?”

“He was telling me about his toys when the man took the phone away from him,” Kate said. “That was when he started getting upset—” Her voice broke. “He started crying and yelling for me. Then the man told the woman to
get the kid out of here.
”

“I see. I think that sounds promising.”

“What did you find out?” Travis asked.

“Not much. But more than we had. I was right about the accent. Dusty has a program that compares speech patterns and pronunciation.

“The phone he used is a prepaid one and he bought it here, so I’ve sent the serial numbers to every phone store in the greater New Orleans area. Hopefully we’ll get a
hit.”

“What about the car?”

“The numbers you got plus the distinctive graphics on the windshield hit. The sticker is a Chicago city sticker. Once we had that, we got the city clerk’s office to run the partial plate for us. The car’s registered to a Shirley Hixon. Lucas contacted his brother-in-law who’s a prosecutor in Chicago. He’ll get the woman checked out for us.”

“You didn’t
tell him—” Kate started.

“Nope. Just told him I needed the info. We have a good arrangement,” Dawson said. “He doesn’t ask me any questions when I need a favor, and I don’t ask him any when he needs a favor.”

She sighed in relief.

* * *

“W
HAT
’
S
THAT
noise in the background?” the man who’d hired Bentley Woods asked him. “Is somebody on TV strangling a cat?”

“Ha,” Bent said
with a grimace. “That kid’s a spoiled little brat.”

“Well, you better make sure he stays healthy. I thought you said your wife was taking care of him.”

“My girlfriend.”

“So anyway, like I was saying, one of the Delancey brats confronted Myron yesterday. I was out of the office or he’d have gotten to me, too. He asked Myron about Dr. Chalmet’s kid, and mentioned the abduction.”

“That must be the guy that answered the phone. Probably the same guy that’s staying at her house.”

“Staying? There’s a Delancey staying at Dr. Chalmet’s house?”

“Who?”

“Delancey. Didn’t you hear what I just said? One of the Delanceys was nosing around, asking questions. And Stamps doesn’t think he was just helping his little brother Harte with the case. He said the guy was acting
like it was personal—
and
he mentioned the little boy.”

“All I know is what you tell me,” Bent said with exaggerated patience. “What’s so special about these Delanceys?”

“You never heard of Con Delancey?”

“I have not. Who’s Con Delancey?”

“Only one of the biggest, richest politicians ever in Louisiana. Most of his grandkids are cops. We don’t need them snooping around in this.”

“How come if everybody knows these Delanceys so well, nobody knows who went to Stamps’s house?”

“I didn’t see him. Myron did. He recognized him as a Delancey, but he didn’t know which one.”

“Oh. So he doesn’t know and you don’t know. What the hell’s this got to do with me, anyhow? I’m doing the job you’re paying me for. I’m taking care of the kid and making sure the doctor does what
she’s supposed to do.”

“I’ll compensate you for the additional work.”

Bent started to ask what additional work, but he knew what the man wanted him to do. And he liked the idea of more money. Besides, he’d already called a buddy of his in the Chicago P.D. to get them to run the Maryland license plate and see who the car was registered to. If he played his cards right, he could bill that
to this guy, too. Maybe be could double his money. “Fine,” he said grouchily. “Same fee.”

“Same? You can’t be serious—”

“Hey,” Bent interrupted the man. “You’re the one worried about the information getting out. All I gotta do is pack up and leave. You’ll be stuck with the kid and trying to keep your nose clean at the same time.”

“Okay, okay. But you’d better get back to me with
some information and fast. Don’t forget that a whole bunch of the Delanceys are police. Don’t make ’em suspicious.”

“I’ll get your information. You get me my money.”

“You’ll get it when the job’s done, along with the second half of the original fee. I’ll call you back this afternoon.”

“All right.” Bent hung up.
Delanceys.
It sounded as if it would be in his best interest to find
out who the Delanceys were and why they were interested in Dr. Kate Chalmet.

As he pocketed his phone, the kid’s wailing went up a few hundred decibels. “Can’t you shut that kid up?” he yelled. He was going to go crazy if he had to spend another minute in the same house as that spoiled brat. When he wasn’t crying for his
mommy,
he was complaining about the toys Shirley had bought him or telling
her he wanted milk not juice, or juice not milk.

“I’m taking the laptop and going out,” he yelled over the kid’s whining. “I’ll be back later.”
A lot later.

“Bring me some more of that jambalaya you bought the other day.”

“Aren’t you sick of that stuff yet? I didn’t like it the first time.”

“You don’t have to eat it,” she countered. “Get it from the same restaurant. And get
some more apple juice for Max.”

Apple juice for Max,
Bent mocked as he got in his car and headed to the small shopping center a couple miles from the trailer park. It had a grocery store, an office supply store, a coffee shop that sold pastries and sandwiches and a Chinese restaurant. He’d have to drive another three miles to get Shirley’s jambalaya. But first he was going to have a latte
and do a little business. He needed to check on that Maryland plate and he wanted to do some research on the Delanceys.

He’d left a message last night for a buddy of his who was still with the Chicago P.D. By the time he reached the coffee shop, got his coffee and signed on to the internet, his phone rang. It was his buddy calling him back. “Hey, pal, what’s shaking?” Bent asked when he answered.

“Not much. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing new. Still scraping by with a couple private jobs. You know how it is.”