The twenty-four hour mark came and went with no word from the abductor. By eight-thirty Tuesday night, Becky felt as if every breath took supreme effort and every heartbeat pumped new agony into her veins. Earlier the family den in the big house had been crackling with anticipation and conversation.
Even then every phrase and syllable had sounded forced, brave attempts to keep the mood positive. The family was all still present, but the silence now was like an icy spray that froze the oxygen in the still, heavy air.
They’d done everything the abductor had asked. The ransom was waiting. The plane was ready to go. Langston was planning to fly the plane himself, and Zach would go along as copilot.
But with each tick of the clock, the dread swelled. So did the doubts.
Following Nick’s wishes to leave the cops out of this might have been a monumental mistake. Had they put out an instant AMBER Alert, the boys might be home tonight, sleeping in their own beds. No one was blaming him, but she was certain he was second-guessing himself though they’d barely spoken since her blow up this afternoon.
Nick walked to the hearth and propped both hands on the mantel, leaning close even though the earlier blaze had died to glowing embers. His face was drawn, his neck corded from muscles that looked taut enough to break.
Zach walked over to stand beside him. Blackie padded over to Becky and cocked his head to the side; the lab’s dark, soulful eyes peered into hers. She patted his head absently, sure that he not only missed his masters but sensed the tension.
Zach put a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “I can get the ball rolling with police involvement anytime you say. All you have to do is give me the word.”
Nick nodded.
“Another option might be to hire a team of private investigators,” Matt said.
“Or we could get a search party organized,” Bart added. “There’s not a man in the county who wouldn’t be out there right now going door to door to see if anyone’s seen David and Derrick or knows anything about the abduction.”
“And then the media circus would take over,” Langston said. “But maybe that would help flush this guy out. I just don’t know.”
“That’s the problem,” Nick said. “There’s no way to know.”
“Why doesn’t he call?” Becky lamented out loud, saying what they all were thinking. “If he wants the money, why doesn’t he call?” The terror tore at her throat and her voice.
Jaime came over and settled on the arm of her chair, slipping an arm around Becky’s shoulders. “He’s going to call, sis. He may be rethinking the exchange, but he’s going to call.”
“You don’t know that. Those are just empty words.”
Trish walked in with a plate of oatmeal cookies and a bowl of sliced apples. She set them on the coffee table and slid onto the sofa beside Langston.
“Becky and I have to talk,” Nick said.
“We’ll clear out,” Jaime said, “and give you a little privacy.”
“No.” Becky stood and struggled for a grip on her composure. “All of you stay as long as you want. I need some fresh air. Nick and I can take a walk.”
Nick nodded again. “I’m not discounting any of your advice, guys. And I’ll tell you this, I don’t know of a single person on earth I’d rather have in this with me than the Collingsworth clan. That includes the FBI or any police force in the world.”
“But don’t rule any of that out,” Langston reminded him. “It’s not either/or. You can have us and professionals.”
Becky paused to give her mother’s hand a squeeze as she passed her. “Keep praying,” she whispered.
“Always.”
This time Becky stopped for a jacket and took a flashlight from the rack by the back door. She didn’t wait for Nick, but she heard the crinkle of leather as he pulled on his own jacket and followed her.
She noticed everything, the creaking of the top step when she put her foot on it, the rustle of the wind in the oak trees, the sting of cold air on her cheeks.
It was as if the totality of her being had been crammed into this moment and the decisions they were about to make. Her boys’ safe return, their very lives might depend on what she and Nick did in the next few minutes and the next few hours. She wouldn’t leave this all to him the way she had earlier.
Nick caught up with her hurried stride and fell in beside her. “I thought we’d hear from the abductor by now. I was sure he just wanted his hands on the money as soon as possible.”
“And now you’ve changed your mind?” she asked, fighting her frustration.
“Not entirely. There’s no reason for him not to call us if it’s the ransom he wants. He may have met with complications.”
“How complicated can it be to make a phone call?”
“He could be driving somewhere to use a public phone or to buy one with limited minutes from the convenience store. He’ll want to make sure we can’t use the phone to find him before he’s ready to close the deal. Maybe he got caught in traffic.”
“You think he’s just driving around with our boys in the car? How is he keeping them quiet? He might have them drugged them or locked them up in the trunk. Maybe that’s why he said they weren’t available the first time he called.”
Her voice climbed steadily higher. Worse, she wasn’t even sure she was making sense, but terrifying possibilities were storming her mind.
“Maybe he’s just enjoying his power to keep us on edge,” he countered.
“More than he’d enjoy five million dollars in his hand?” No. If this were only about the money, he would have called. They could have delivered it to him tonight. He could be in Mexico. This could all be over.
“We can’t just sit here and do nothing, Nick. He might be taking the boys out of the country or taking them who knows where. The longer we wait, the more difficult it will be to track him down. And…”
The rest of the sentence was swallowed by the growing lump in her throat. Nick put a hand on her shoulder. Her chest constricted painfully at his touch. She needed his strength, needed him. Yet she couldn’t let herself lean on him. Reluctantly, she pulled away.
“Does my touch bother you that much, Becky?”
Yes, in ways she couldn’t deal with in this situation. “I’m just trying to get through this, Nick. I have to be strong.”
“We’re in this together.”
“I can’t very well ignore that, can I, Nick, since you’re the one the abductor contacts—or doesn’t contact. You’re the one making the decisions.” The bitterness crept into her voice. She wished it hadn’t, but there was too much at risk here to worry about that now.
Nick’s cell phone rang. Becky’s heart jumped to her throat. Please let it be the abductor. Please let him be ready to give her back her sons.
Nick’s hello was firm, in control. She held her breath then released a sharp, painful exhale when she heard the agitation in Nick’s voice.
Something was wrong. Her legs went weak, but somehow she kept standing, her mind grasping for meaning in every word Nick spoke.
* * *
“HELLO, NICKY BOY. I guess you realize by now that there’s been a slight delay in our plans.”
The cocky bastard. He was enjoying their torment. Nick’s teeth ground together and his muscles clenched. “You said five million in small bills and a flight out of the country. I’m ready to meet those demands, so let’s get this over and done with.”
“Not so fast, champ. The boys are asleep. You don’t want me dragging them out in the middle of the night, do you? Besides, I have a couple of things I need to take care of before I tell America adios.”
“I want my boys, and I want them now. Tell me where to meet you or I go to the cops.”
“That would be a major mistake if you want to get them back alive.”
“Let me talk to them.”
“I told you they’re sleeping. I’ll have them call you in the morning. We’ll talk specifics then. But there is one other thing. I’ve decided I need a hostage with me on the flight to Mexico. You know, someone to be sure you don’t plan any tricks like aborting the flight once you have your sons. I’m thinking having Becky along would be a great insurance plan.”
Nick’s body went rigid. “My wife is not a bargaining tool.”
“Why not? You’ve already replaced her with Brianna Campbell. You’re surely not so selfish as to deny me the pleasure of her company on a short flight.”
“Five million. Do you want it or not?”
“You do realize that you’re not calling the shots here, Nick. I want Becky on that plane. If there’s any funny stuff, she takes a bullet. That way I know you won’t have an armed greeting party waiting for me when we land.”
“You want a hostage, you can have me. That’s my best offer.”
“I’ll sleep on it and let you know in the morning.”
“Let me talk to the boys.” The menacing click of the phone as it disconnected swallowed his demand. Nick stood still, his back ramrod straight, numb to the pain from his injury.
“What’s wrong?” Becky demanded.
“Change in plans,” he said.
“What kind of change?”
“Let’s go to the porch. I talk better when I’m sitting.” And he needed a minute to digest the kidnapper’s new demand. Not that he’d even consider letting Becky get on a plane with that lunatic, even if she agreed. Their divorce wasn’t final yet. She was still his wife and the mother of his sons.
She was still his to protect.
* * *
A LITTLE MORE than a half hour later, Nick and Becky sat down at the big oak table in the dining room with the core members of the Collingsworth family around them. The somber mood was foreign to the familiar setting where Nick had joined in many family celebrations and marvelous Sunday brunches.
The room was virtually unchanged from the way it had looked the Sunday morning he and Becky had officially announced their engagement, though it had been almost totally destroyed in the explosion this past summer.
That day the entire family had almost lost their lives for the sin of befriending and trusting the wrong man. Had it not been for the quick thinking of Matt’s wife, Shelly, they would have been obliterated, his sons along with them.
If there was any weakness in the Collingsworths, it was their willingness to see the best in people. They’d certainly done that with Nick. Tonight that trust felt like weights pressing into his chest. He’d insisted on laying out the game plan, on going with his instincts. He’d made critical mistakes.
He’d failed the people who needed him most. Not for the first time and the memories that admittance unleashed were attacking him full force.
Langston took the seat at the head of the table. Lenora sat at the other end. Becky sat between him and Zach on one side of the table. Jaime, Bart, Matt and his wife, Shelly, sat opposite them. Jeremiah was still keeping to his room and had not been apprised of the situation. Had the elderly gentleman with the temper of Attila the Hun and the determination of a bull known, Nick was certain he’d have been right there with them.
Becky had specifically requested Shelly’s presence. Her CIA experience might be invaluable. The other wives had suggested they not be part of the decision-making process though they were there to help in any way they could. The solidarity of the Collingsworths in crisis was nothing short of astonishing.
Nick was fairly certain the room had never been this quiet before. It was as if all of them were holding their collective breaths waiting to hear what Becky had to say. She’d held up so well on the porch that Nick had feared she was slipping into shock.
That wasn’t the case. She was stronger than he’d ever known. Courageous. Determined. And ready to fight. She was a hell of a woman. Always had been. Maybe her strength had been their downfall, though it was definitely helping to hold him together now.
Nick filled the family in with the basics of his latest conversation with the abductor, minus the information about his wanting Becky for a hostage. He hadn’t even mentioned that to her. It wasn’t an option, so there was no reason to bring it up for discussion.
The family listened without interrupting until he was through, but he could sense the dread imbedding more deeply in their souls as he talked.
“I obviously misjudged the situation,” Nick said. “I should have listened to the rest of you in the first place.”
“Not necessarily,” Shelly offered, the tone of her voice indicating the observation was more than sympathy. “You sensed the man was desperate and acting on impulse after seeing the boys’ picture on the news. First instincts are frequently right on target. But that same impulsiveness might also make him edgy after the fact, and he may fear he’s walking into a trap, thus his hesitance to make the exchange.”
“But wouldn’t his being on the edge make him even more dangerous?” Jaime asked. “Wouldn’t that be more reason to move on this quickly and with every weapon in the arsenal?”
Shelly nodded. “Especially since we can’t accurately judge the man’s mental condition. But at the same time, we don’t want to do anything to cause him to hurt the boys.”
“Which is what might happen if we let the media get hold of this,” Becky said. “Nick and I have talked and made the decision that we can’t take that risk.”
“So what are you saying?” Zach asked. “That you don’t want police involvement? If so, I think you’re making a big mistake.”
“No, we just want to keep this as quiet as possible. We’re open to suggestions.”
Zach nodded. “At the very least, we need an APB out to all the law enforcement officers in at least a three-state area to be on the lookout for David and Derrick. And we need to contact the border patrol.”
“I’d say that’s top priority,” Matt said. “We can’t let him take the boys into Mexico.”
They were talking prevention, but for all they knew, the man could have crossed that border with David and Derrick hours ago. That, too, would be Nick’s fault. No one said it, but they all knew it.
“With that much law enforcement involved, word of the abduction is going to leak to the media,” Langston said.
“Not necessarily,” Zach said. “At least not before we can track the boys down. Everyone takes crime involving kids seriously. Besides, I think it’s a risk we have to take.”
“And we need a description of that car that Eddie Mason saw them getting into,” Lenora said.
“I’ve got you covered there,” Zach said.
“Black Oldsmobile sedan. An old one, an eighties model he thought. Dent in back right fender with patch of rust showing through. No hubcaps.”
“When did you talk to Eddie Mason?” Nick asked. “I thought we’d agreed you wouldn’t.”
“I didn’t. There are more subtle ways to get information. I just mentioned to the crossing guard that someone had reported seeing a group of teenagers speeding though the area on Monday about the time school let out and asked if he’d seen it. When he said no, I asked if he’d noticed any unfamiliar cars in the area.”
“Did he say he saw David and Derrick get into the Oldsmobile?”
“No, but he said the car had driven by the school a few times before the closing bell. That made him suspicious, and he was about to call in a report to the sheriff’s department when the bell rang and the kids came pouring out.”
“Then we don’t know if that’s the same car,” Matt said.
“We wouldn’t if he’d left it at that, but when I asked if he’d seen the car again, he said that when he got a break from the crossing duties he spotted the same car parked across the street from the church.
“Two boys climbed in and the driver pulled away, so he figured it was just a relative who didn’t know the rule about where to pick up students.”
“Did he say anything about the driver?”
“That he wasn’t a teenager and he wasn’t speeding, since he thought that’s what I was investigating. Said the driver looked to be in his late twenties, maybe older, but he’d just gotten a glimpse of him.”
“Thanks,” Nick said. “At least we have that much to go on.”
“I’d still like to call my contact at the FBI,” Langston said, “and get his take on this.”
“I agree,” Shelly said.
“And so do Nick and I,” Becky said. “We’ve made that decision.”
Becky had suggested it first, and Nick had been in total agreement. He’d forced himself to believe things would never get this far, that if he followed the abductor’s orders to the letter his boys would be home tonight. Now the terrifying possibilities he’d worked so hard to keep at bay filled his mind.
It had to be the same for Becky. He ached to reach out to her in spite of their run-in this afternoon, but he couldn’t face a rebuff right now. This was all so damn hard, their years together counting for nothing.
Nick took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. They were passing the point of no return as far as following the abductor’s orders, but he couldn’t stall any longer. “Call your friend at the bureau, Langston.”
“You’ve got it.” Langston stood and left the room to make the call without waiting for the rest of the decisions to be made.
“What about Zach?” Bart asked. “What do you want him to do? I’d put as much faith in him as I would the bureau—not that I don’t think you should use them, too.”
“Let’s see what Langston finds out and then decide about that,” Nick said.
“What if he’s already crossed the border into Mexico? Then what?”
A choking knot clogged Nick’s throat when he saw the fright in Becky’s haunted eyes.
“Alert the border patrol to be on the watch for the car and them,” Nick said. “See if we need to hire our own people to make sure he doesn’t get that far. Do whatever it takes.”
“In the meantime, I’m taking a drive and looking for an old rusted, dented, navy Oldsmobile,” Matt said. “Sitting here doing nothing is maddening.”
“I’m with you,” Bart said.
“I’ll stick to my prayers,” Lenora said. She walked over and put her arm around Becky. “You need some rest, sweetheart.”
“I can’t sleep, Mother.”
“Then just come and lie down in my room for awhile. Exhaustion won’t help the boys or your decision-making abilities.”
Jaime and Shelly left with them, leaving only Nick and Zach at the table.
Zach stood and walked to the window, staring into the darkness before turning back to Nick. “Are you sure you’ve told us everything?”
Nick hesitated, but he knew he could trust Zach. “The kidnapper wants to take Becky as hostage when Langston flies him to Mexico.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Don’t tell me you think that’s a good idea.”
“No, absolutely not. I just wonder if it’s possible he knows Becky.”
Nick trailed his fingers up and down his neck, keeping the pressure light. “What are you getting at?”
“Just that if he knows Becky, that would narrow the suspects down considerably.”
“I’m not sure how. Half the people in Houston know Becky or at least know of her. The Collingsworths are too active in local charities and arts foundations for them not to have heard of her.”
“Yes, but half the people in America know who you are.”
“Good point. He did call Becky by name, but that doesn’t really prove he’s had contact with her.”
“Are you sure he didn’t say anything that might give us a hint as to where he is?”
“No.”
“Does he have a Texas accent?”
“Definitely.”
“How was the grammar?”
“I don’t see how this is helping.”
“It could give us an idea of his background.”
“His language is rough around the edges. Some slang. Nothing particularly unusual.”
“I hate to even bring this up, but I’ve checked the files of all the registered people guilty of sex crimes living in this and neighboring counties. There aren’t many in our immediate area, and I’ve made routine calls on all of them without giving any indication that I was investigating a crime. None of them have the boys with them. Of course that doesn’t guarantee they aren’t involved.”
“Thanks, Zach. I really appreciate your efforts.”
“The boys may be my nephews, but I don’t think I could love them more if they were my own. They’re great kids.”
“Yeah.” They were Nick’s own, yet Zach had probably seen more of them this last year than he had. That said a lot for his quality of fatherhood, a point that Becky had been stressing for years.
Zach walked over to Nick and delivered a manly punch to the forearm. “I know this is tough, but hang in there, buddy. The boys are counting on you.”
Langston stepped back into the doorway. “The FBI is sending out an agent from Houston who specializes in abductions. He’ll be here in a matter of hours. Nick and Becky should probably try to get some sleep in the meantime.”
“Fast work,” Zach commented. “Pays to have friends in high places.”
“Pays to have friends period,” Langston said.
And it paid to have the clout of the Collingsworths on your side. Nick had to hold on to the faith that it and Lenora’s prayers would be enough.
* * *
“LOOK,” DAVID SAID.
“At what?” Derrick stumbled though the brush, hurrying to catch up with his twin brother. He was tired of walking. They should have come to a road hours ago. He wished he had his compass or that he’d paid more attention when Uncle Zach had been teaching him about using the stars to find your way home if you got lost in the woods.
“Look, through those trees. Somebody must live there.”
“Oh, man! Am I glad to see that!” He was beginning to think they were going to be stuck out here all night—or until the kidnapper found them, which would be a lot worse.
They kept walking until they got a better look at the place. “Do you think somebody lives there?” David asked. “I don’t see any cars around.”
“It looks kind of empty, all right. But if there’s a mobile home there has to be a road for people to get here. We can follow it to the highway.”
“Yeah, and if someone lives there but isn’t home, there still might be food.”
“And water,” Derrick added. “I’m really thirsty.”
“Let’s check it out.”
“Maybe they have a phone, and we can call Mom to come get us.”
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about.” David took off at a dead run toward the mobile home with Derrick on his heels. Before he got there, he slid to a stop, grabbing Derrick’s arm and almost making him fall.
“What’s wrong?” Derrick asked.
“Suppose the kidnapper is in there waiting for us?”
“Why would he be? He didn’t know we’d come this way.”
“Still, he just might be in there. Or a friend of his might live there.”
“We’ll peek through the window before we go inside,” Derrick said. He led the way, marching as if they were soldiers. When he got closer to the house, he sneaked to the side and rose up to the tips of his toes so he could see inside the window.
“Well?” David whispered.
“Gimme a minute. It’s dark in there.” But there was a stream of moonlight lighting the area right in front of the window. Derrick didn’t see anybody, and the place was quiet.
“I think it’s all clear,” he said, still keeping his voice low just in case. “Let’s grab a broken limb for a weapon, but I don’t think we’ll need it. If the kidnapper were here, he would have left the light on to lure us in. And if somebody else is here, they’ll help us get home.”
They grabbed the sticks and climbed the three steps to a porch so small it wouldn’t have held them and Blackie.
David knocked. Nobody answered. “Hey, anybody in there?” Still no response. He tried the knob. “It’s locked.”
Derrick propped his weapon against the house. “Then I guess we’ll have to break in.”
“We could go to jail for that.”
Derrick shook his head. “Naw. We’ve escaped from a kidnapper. They’ll just be talking about how brave we are.”
“How do we get in?”
“We can break out a window.”
“I was just about to say that,” David said.
“Sure you were.”
“I was, ’cause see that big rock out by the road. We can hurl it through the glass.”
“But you better let me throw it,” Derrick said, “’cause I can chuck it harder than you can.” He wasn’t sure that was right, but if they got into trouble for breaking out the window, he should face it since he suggested they break in.
David got the rock and handed it to him. He threw it as hard as he could. The rock went right through the pane, and glass shattered and scattered all over the ground.
“I’ll heft you up to my shoulders,” Derrick said. “You can reach in and unlock the window.”
David took off his jacket and wrapped it around his right hand and arm so he wouldn’t get cut. David was good at thinking of stuff like that. Once he was on Derrick’s shoulders, he knocked out the rest of the window and just climbed through. “I’ll unlock the door for you,” he called, then disappeared into the dark house.
By the time Derrick got back around to the front door, it was standing open and the lights were on. The mobile home smelled like wet, dirty socks but it had furniture. Old stuff.
“Let’s check out the kitchen,” David said.
Derrick was right behind him. The refrigerator was mostly empty except for a few slices of cheese. There were a bunch of bottles of water though. Derrick took one for himself and handed one to David. He swallowed half of his in one gulp.
“There’s sodas, too,” he said. He opened the door to the freezer. There were bunches of packages of meat. “Ice cream sandwiches,” he said, pulling out the box of frozen treats.
David crawled up on the countertop to reach the higher shelves. “Not much in here but canned stuff. Chili. Chicken noodle soup.” He shoved the cans around to reach to the back of the shelf. “And two cans of spaghetti with franks like Dad made one time at his house. All we need is a can opener and a pan to warm it.”
“Now you’re talking.” This was starting to feel like an adventure. “Spaghetti and ice-cream sandwiches for dessert?” Derrick took another long swig of his water as he opened another cabinet. “I found a pan.”
“Yeah, I was so hungry I almost forgot about that. David jumped down from the counter. “But I think I’ll have dessert first.” He grabbed an ice cream sandwich and took off to search for the phone.
They both had dessert first, but David didn’t find a phone. Derrick was still plenty hungry when the canned pasta and sauce was ready. They divided it up into two big bowls and took them to the small table.
“Tastes just like Dad’s,” David said.
“Yeah, but not as good as Grandma’s or Juanita’s.”
“You think Blackie misses us?”
“Yeah,” Derrick said. “I wish he was here. We could sic him on the kidnapper.”
“We don’t need that. We got away all by ourselves. I think my screwdriver idea fooled him into going the wrong way to look for us after we took off our shoes and walked in the creek so he’d lose our tracks.”
“Yeah, but that water was really cold.” Derrick finished his food. He’d planned to eat another ice cream sandwich, but he was too full. He might have a soda, though. He spied a rope on a nail on the wall. He walked over, picked it up and tied a slipknot like he did when he practiced calf roping. “Do you think we should sleep here tonight?”
“I don’t think so. The kidnapper might show up and grab us in our sleep. We better keep walking and try to reach a highway. We could follow that road outside but stay in the woods in case the kidnapper comes driving down it looking for us.”
“I hope we get home in time for the Christmas pageant,” Derrick said. “We could tell everybody how we escaped.”
“The girls will think we’re superheroes.”
“Cool.”
Derrick swung the rope, lassoing the back of an empty chair. “We should probably get going. The ice cream would melt if we tried to take it with us, but we can take some soda and water in our jacket pockets. I think I’ll take the rope, too.”
He put his jacket back on, rolled the rope and tucked it away in the big inside pocket. He stuffed the rest of his pockets with water. “I look fat,” he said.
“Did you hear that?”
Derrick listened, and there it was. Whistling. The same stupid song the kidnapper always whistled. The adventure wasn’t fun anymore.