The Candidate's Wife (20 page)

Julia twisted her fingers in her lap as they climbed to a plateau high above the ocean. The view was spectacular, even on this gray, brooding day, but Julia barely noticed. She had eyes only for the circular clearing at the top of the cliffs. When it came into view, she gave a cry of dismay.

"He's not there!"

Adam pulled up on the south side of the Lookout, near the large boulders that edged the cliff. He parked, turned off the engine, and glanced down at his heavy silver wristwatch. "It's only 10:15, Julia. He'll be here. Try to stay calm."

Julia nodded, but she had to clench her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. She glanced out at the churning sea. There was no beach here, no gently lapping waves or piles of pale driftwood. During her senior year a football player, drunk and showing off for his friends, had fallen from the Lookout. The boy had died instantly on the wet, dark rocks below, and since then Julia had never liked the place. Now, as she waited for her ex-husband to show, she had yet another reason to shudder at the wet slap of seawater against the cliff.

Somewhere in the trees on either side of the road leading up to the cliff, her brothers should be waiting. They would stop Frank's car as he tried to drive away, arrest him, and force him to tell them where he was keeping Danny. That was the plan, at least.

But what if Frank had gotten scared, run away, and taken Danny with him? What if something else went wrong with the plan? What if. . .what if. . . Julia couldn't seem to stop torturing herself. She bit her lower lip so hard it hurt, but barely hard enough to keep back her tears as she absentmindedly chipped brown paint from the hood of the old station wagon.

Adam rounded the back of the car and stood beside her. Silently, he took her hand, a gesture so natural and comforting that Julia let herself slump against his muscular shoulder. Still, every passing second was a cause for agony.

"Someone's coming," Adam said, at last. His voice stretched taut as a string of barbed wire.

Julia glanced down the hill and saw a light blue pickup truck, badly battered, lumbering up the incline to the Lookout. A moment later, the truck disappeared into a thicket of trees, then emerged again, much closer this time. Now Julia could make out the distant crunch of gravel and the thrum of the motor. "It's him," she said. "I think it's him, and he's alone."

It was Frank. He pulled into the clearing, parked the truck, then climbed out. To Julia's critical eyes, he looked even more unkempt than he had that day in the park. He wore a blue denim jacket and a pair of dirty nylon jogging shorts. Stubble darkened this cheeks, and pouches hung under his reddened eyes.

Julia felt the sudden tension in Adam's body, the convulsive ripple of his biceps and his tightening grip on her fingers. She only hoped he could control his anger long enough to cooperate with the plan she'd worked out with her brothers. She sent him a swift, meaningful glance, and he gave her a barely perceptible nod to let her know that he understood.

Julia forced herself to speak calmly. "Hello, Frank. We've got the money."

At the mention of the money, Frank seemed to relax. "Good. You're playing it smart. Just don't try anything, Senator. I don't want to hurt anybody." His hand was in his jacket pocket, and Julia's heart
sank at the sight of the bulge there. A gun? A knife? She gulped for breath, and her stomach churned. As the next few minutes played out, everyone was at risk: Danny, Adam, her brothers. . . .

Frank glanced around warily. "The money," he said. "Hand it over quick, Jules, and we'll get this done with. I don't like it any more than you do."

Sickened by her own anger at this man, Julia forced herself to nod calmly. "All right, Frank. Whatever you say. I just want Danny back." She turned to Adam, who held the briefcase. He was glowering at Frank, his eyes dark and menacing, his jaw tense with fury. With a sudden movement, he flung the briefcase toward the other man. It landed at Frank's feet.

"Here you go, you son of a bitch," Adam snarled.

Nervously, Julia clutched at his hand. "Adam," she whispered, "Adam, don't. Just wait."

He backed off, still smoldering, as Frank flipped open the briefcase and fingered the bills inside. A nervous, twitching smile played across his prematurely aged face as he touched the money. "It's all here?"

Julia nodded.

"Good girl." Frank snapped the briefcase shut and pushed it through an open window into the cab of his truck.

"We kept our part of the bargain. Where's Danny?" Julia asked.

Frank scowled. "I'm not that dumb, Jules. I tell you where he is, then you get the cops after me. No, I got to have some getaway time. You go on home now. Go to your mom's house and I'll call you in an hour or two."

"Wait a minute." Adam's voice cracked like a whip through the still air. "How do we know you'll keep your word?"

Frank shrugged. "I don't want to hurt my boy, you know. I just need time to get clear of this place." He frowned again, and this time his gaze was on the dirt access road leading up to the Lookout. "Hey! Hey, there's a car coming." He whipped around and fixed Julia with an accusing glare. "Did you do something stupid, Jules? Did you?"

Julia stared down at the approaching car, a dark green recent-model Toyota. "I don't know whose car that is, Frank." Her lips wouldn't stop trembling, though she spoke the truth. "Maybe it's tourists, sightseers --"

"Yeah, right. What the hell's going on here?" His eyes moved to Adam's face. "You did this, didn't you? Rich guy can't stand to part with a penny. Yeah, that's it. Tryin' to screw with me, aren't you?"

Julia let out a gasp of terror as Frank, in his anger, pulled his right hand from his
pocket
. A knife suddenly gleamed in Frank's hand, a large, rusty fish filleting knife. Julia tried to scream and found she couldn't. Fear closed her throat as Adam pushed her back behind him and faced Frank down.

"Oh, yeah, the hero," Frank sneered. He stepped forward, waving the knife. "Let's see if you bleed blue, Mr. Bigshot Politician."

"Frank, no," Julia whispered. "This isn't you. You don't want to hurt anyone. Please, Frank."

He shook his head, but the knife wavered. "You don't know me anymore, Jules. I done plenty of things you don't know about, okay?"

He took another step toward Adam, who was shielding Julia with his body. Julia felt a shriek gathering in her chest, but it never emerged. Instead, speechless, she watched Adam take one slow step forward, and then another.

"Drop the knife, Frank," he said. His voice was calm, deadly calm, but it sent a chill down Julia's spine. Frank, too, looked fearful. His eyes rolled wildly in his head as he brandished the knife.

Adam was still speaking. "This has gone far enough. No more. It's over. Do you hear that, Frank? Over." He took another menacing step forward, into knife's range.

For an instant, there was no sound but the screech of a seagull wheeling above them and the waves crashing against the cliff. No one moved. No one spoke. It was a moment frozen in time. Julia held her breath.

The sound of gravel under rubber tires broke the silence. The green Toyota pulled into the Lookout. Two passengers jumped from the car. Julia recognized Howard Jenkins, the reporter for the Times, and the woman with him was already snapping photographs. But Adam and Frank ignored the intruders. They were locked together in a deadly battle of wills.

And then, despite his weapon, Frank began to back away. He was a skinny, almost emaciated man, and Adam towered over him. But it was Adam's confidence, his utter lack of fear, that made all the difference. Julia felt a surge of pride, followed immediately by a flush of sheer terror. Adam might be the bravest man alive, but she was a complete coward. She only wanted Adam safe -- Adam and Danny, the two people she loved most in all the world.

Frank took another step back. Adam stepped forward. "Drop the knife," Adam said quietly. "Come on, Frank. Let's do this the easy way."

Julia's mouth felt dry as a desert wind as she waited for Frank to make the next move. Her ex-husband looked scared, and indecisive. He still held the knife, but he carried it as if he didn't quite know what to do with it. Adam pressed his advantage. "You can't win this one, Frank. It's over."

Frank let out a strange, high-pitched giggle. "You don't hold all the cards yet, Mr. Bigshot. Remember Danny? I've got him where you'll never find him. It's my secret place. You need me to tell you where he is." He took several steps backwards, toward the cliff.

Adam closed in again. Frank took another step back. "I'm not going to prison, okay? I spent a couple years there already. Never again. Do you hear me? Never again!"

Frank feinted toward Adam with the knife. Julia gasped. "Adam, be careful," she said, but under her breath, like a whispered prayer.

Adam spoke with impressive calm. "Frank, be reasonable. Put the knife down and we'll talk it out, man to man."

"I'm not going back to prison," Frank repeated. He took another step backwards, slipping through the wide gap between two of the boulders that guarded the cliff. Adam moved quickly to follow him.

Adam took another step forward.

Frank took another step back.

Julia realized, to her horror, that Frank was nearing the very edge of the cliff. But Frank was still moving backwards, his eyes fixed on Adam. Julia stifled a cry of alarm. Where were her brothers? Why weren't they here to help?

As if summoned by her thoughts, they chose that moment to arrive, bursting dramatically from the bushes to either side of the Lookout. Dylan, Matt, and Sean wore their tan county sheriff's uniforms. Each man had his gun drawn and aimed directly at Frank.

Matt slipped over to stand next to Julia. "Sorry, sis," he said, his expression grim. "We were waiting down below. It took us a few minutes to realize something had gone wrong up here, and then we didn't want to drive up in the truck."

Julia nodded, but her eyes were fixed on the two men by the cliff. Frank glanced wildly from Adam to Julia and then to each of her brothers. Then, for the first time, he looked down. He teetered
now on the very last rock, which protruded out over the pounding surf. For a moment, Julia worried that he might jump. Then he seemed to falter. A bewildered expression flitted across his face.

"Let go of the knife," Dylan called. "Do it, Frank."

Slowly, Frank nodded. He dropped the knife. It clattered on stone, then disappeared over the cliff. He raised his arms in a gesture of surrender. Julia closed her eyes for one thankful second. It was over. Everyone would be safe. When she opened her eyes again, Adam had moved away from the edge of the cliff, and Dylan was walking forward to take Frank into custody.

When Dylan spoke, Julia could hear the relief in his voice, too. "Good decision, Frank. Now walk forward, very carefully."

What happened next seemed to occur in slow motion. Frank took a step toward Dylan, and as he did he wobbled, then slipped, and without warning he vanished from sight. It took Julia several seconds to realize he'd fallen. A cry burst from her lips, a cry echoed from the throats of everyone watching.

Julia rushed forward. She glimpsed only a patch of light blue denim on the slick black rocks before Adam caught her pulled her away from the edge. "Don't, sweetheart," he said in a tortured voice as he tugged her head toward his chest. "Don't look."

She buried her face in Adam's shoulder. Horror clawed at her chest, horror and bitter fear -- but not for Frank. For her ex-husband she felt only a vague sadness and a sense of unnecessary waste. "Oh, Adam, he never told us," she said, her eyes wide with disbelief. She lifted them to Adam's face. "He never said where to find Danny."

Half an hour later, Adam handed Julia a Styrofoam cup full of steaming coffee. He was surprised at how well she'd held up so far, but he knew her calm couldn't last. Already, as she gripped the cup, he noticed that her hands were shaking. Hot liquid sloshed dangerously near the edge of the cup as she brought it to her lips.

They now sat on white plastic chairs in the sheriff's office, waiting to hear about the search for Danny. Adam just hoped they found the boy before Julia fell apart. If only he hadn't tried to play the hero. If they'd stuck to the original plan, Danny might be safe now. Julia hadn't accused him, not directly, but how could she not blame him? He'd lost his temper, and now it could cost Julia everything.

He settled down in the chair next to her. "Any news?"

She shook her head, then took a second sip of coffee. "Dylan says the whole county's on alert, though. He called in all his deputies, and they're interviewing possible witnesses." She let out a deep, shuddering breath. "Someone, somewhere must have seen where Frank took my son. Otherwise. . . ."

Adam stripped off his black woolen coat and draped it around Julia's shoulders. He ached to take her into his arms, to comfort her with a kiss, but he didn't know how she'd respond. They still hadn't discussed what had happened between them the night before, and what it meant. Danny's kidnapping had pushed that issue onto the back burner.

She glanced up at him through thick lashes still wet and spiky from the few tears she had been unable to hold back. The evidence of her grief and fear tore at Adam's heart. He'd never felt so helpless in his life. In spite of all of his money, all of his political power, and he could do nothing but sit and wait.