CHAPTER TWENTY

ON SATURDAY MORNING, Claire sat on the front porch of the house, a book in her hand. She wanted to read, to take her mind off Tucker, but she’d chosen the wrong book. Her heart quivered as she set it down. She couldn’t read a happily-ever-after book right now. It would only make her cry, and after last night she had no tears left.

She had no idea how she’d managed to hide her grief from Nick, but her nephew had been happily oblivious to her pain. He’d bounded down the stairs that morning, his eyes shining, his face open. While he scraped a can of cat food into Joe’s dish, she’d overheard him telling the cat how he’d kicked the field goal the night before.

By the time he flew out the door to play video games with his friends, her face felt brittle and hard, as if one more forced smile would make it crack into pieces. She watched Nick until he’d disappeared around the corner, then sank down onto the top step of the porch. She couldn’t bear to stay in the house. The air vibrated with memories of Tucker, memories that made grief claw at her throat and tear at her heart.

Now she sat in the warm autumn sunshine, trying desperately to find something to make her forget about Tucker. She was just about to head back into the house to look for another book when her cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

Silence stretched at the other end of the line. “Hello?” Claire said again.

This time, she heard a deep, shuddering breath. “Claire? This is Andrea Vernon.”

“Andrea?” Claire’s hand tightened on the phone. “How are you doing?”

Another pause. “Not so good,” the other woman said in a low voice. “Could you come over here?”

“Are you all right?” Claire asked, rushing into the house to grab her car keys. “Are you hurt?”

“I need you to come over here,” she repeated.

“I’m on my way.” Claire walked out the door and pulled it shut. “Leave the house and start walking toward town, Andrea. I’ll be there in just a few minutes.”

“I can’t leave,” she whispered. “You have to come here.”

“Is Roger in the house?”

“Hurry.”

The phone disconnected with a soft click. Oh, God, Roger had found out Andrea had been talking to her. Claire sprinted for her car.

In less than ten minutes she pulled to the curb in front of the house she’d shared with Roger. Memories washed over her in a rough wave, memories of pain and humiliation and despair.

They didn’t matter. She swallowed, forcing down her nausea, then got out of the car and hurried to the door. Roger couldn’t hurt her now, Claire thought. But he could hurt Andrea.

The door opened before she could ring the doorbell. Andrea stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with fear, her face bloodless. Two ugly bruises painted the side of her face purple and green.

“Let’s go, Andrea,” Claire urged.

“No, you have to come in,” the other woman said. Her eyes flickered to her left.

Alarm shivered down Claire’s spine. “Is Roger standing next to you?”

“Roger isn’t here.”

Claire hesitated, warning bells clanging in her head. “Then why don’t you just step outside?” she asked Andrea.

“You have to help me pack,” she blurted, her hand tightening on the door. “I don’t know what to bring.”

“You don’t have to bring anything,” Claire answered. “They have whatever you need at the shelter.”

Andrea shook her head. “I want my own things.”

Claire remembered what it was like to be completely alone and have nothing of her own, not even underwear. “All right,” she said, stepping into the house.

The door slammed shut behind her. “Hello, Claire,” Derek Joiner said. He held a large black gun in his hand, pointed at her heart. His hand was rock-steady. “I’m happy to see that you’re as predictable as I’d thought.” He gave her a terrifying smile. “I’ve seen you talking to Andrea. Since you can’t seem to keep your nose out of other people’s business, I knew you were sharing stories about Roger’s unfortunate habit of beating his wives. I figured a sob story from Andrea would bring you running.”

 

“DAMN IT!”

Tucker hurled the hammer through the air and grabbed his throbbing thumb. The hammer landed on the asphalt of the driveway with a hollow, clanking sound.

A sound that echoed the emptiness inside him.

He was a damn fool.

All the carpentry projects in the world couldn’t distract him from the disaster he’d created. He could pound on nails all day and all night and it wouldn’t change a thing. He was the one who needed to be pounded.

The devastation on Claire’s face the night before was something he wouldn’t soon forget. He’d destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Fear and regret had eaten at him during the long, lonely hours of the night. Claire had been right. He’d told himself he’d been waiting for the right time to tell her about his past, that he didn’t want to upset her, but the truth was, he’d been afraid.

Afraid to trust her, afraid to see scorn and fear on her face. Afraid the warmth would disappear from her eyes, replaced by wariness and caution.

And because he was afraid, he’d screwed up, big-time.

He’d kept part of himself hidden, the part he was ashamed of. And he’d lost her because of it.

No, he hadn’t. He wasn’t going to let her get away. He’d get her back if he had to crawl to her on his hands and knees. He’d never crawled to a woman, but he would grovel until she forgave him.

And he’d start right now.

He put his tools away, washed his hands and got into his truck. If Claire thought it was over between them, she hadn’t even begun to learn the meaning of stubborn.

As he drove toward her house, he saw Nick walking down the sidewalk, apparently heading for town. He slowed the truck and rolled down the window.

“Hey, Kendall. You need a ride somewhere?”

Nick looked over at him, his face tight with worry. “You want to give me a ride to town?”

“Sure. Hop in.”

Tucker turned his truck around and glanced over at Nick. “What’s up?”

“Aunt Claire disappeared.”

Tucker’s stomach clenched with fear. “What?”

“I can’t find her. She’s not at home and she didn’t leave me a note. And she’s not answering her cell phone.”

“Maybe she just had to run a few errands,” Tucker said.

Nick shook his head. “We made a deal—” he said, swallowing “—after that time I wanted to stay overnight at Booger’s and couldn’t get hold of her. She said that since she always wanted me to tell her where I was, it was only fair if she did the same thing. She said if I wasn’t home when she left, she’d leave me a note and have her cell phone on. But she didn’t do either one.”

“Maybe she just forgot,” Tucker said.

Nick gave him a scornful look. “Aunt Claire doesn’t forget. If she says she’s going to do something, she does it.”

“You want to go to the police station?” Tucker asked.

Nick slumped, staring out the window, and Tucker saw him swallow three times. “Yeah,” he finally said. “Let’s go to the police station.”

 

“POLICE. Broderick speaking.” Seth sat up and reached for a pencil, waited for the caller to speak.

“Chief Broderick?”

Seth’s hand tightened on the receiver. The caller’s fear throbbed through the telephone line. “Yes. Who is this, please?”

“This…this is Andrea Vernon,” the woman whispered. “Derek Joiner took Claire Kendall away.”

“What?”

“He made her get in the car with him. He had a gun.”

“Are you sure? Did you see it happen?”

Andrea choked back a sob. “Yes! He was in my house. He made me call Claire and ask her to come over.”

“Hold on.”

Seth put his hand over the mouthpiece and called out, “Someone run Derek Joiner. I need to know what kind of car he’s driving and the plates.” He turned back to the phone. “All right, Mrs. Vernon. Tell me exactly what happened.”

He heard a sniffle. “Derek came to the house and said he needed to talk to Roger. I told him Roger wasn’t home, but he asked me if he could wait. So I let him in.” Her voice trembled. “He hit me in the face. He had a gun. He told me to call Claire and get her over to the house.” She sobbed. “I had no choice,” she said, crying. “He said he would shoot me.”

“How long ago did they leave, Mrs. Vernon?”

“I’m not sure. He said I couldn’t call you.” Her voice broke. “He said he would tell Roger I’d been talking to Claire.”

The pencil snapped in Seth’s hand. “I’m going to send an officer over to your house, Mrs. Vernon,” he said, struggling to keep his voice calm. “I want you to tell her exactly what happened with Joiner this afternoon.” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “The officer will take you anywhere you need to go. All right?”

“Okay.” She hung up the phone in the middle of another sob.

Seth walked into the other room and said to the dispatcher, “Get Rohrmann on the radio.” When the officer’s voice came over the radio, Seth took the microphone from the dispatcher.

“Kinsey, I need you to go over to the Vernon house,” he said, giving her the address. “Mrs. Vernon just called and we have a possible abduction from her premises. Take a report.” His hand tightened on the microphone. “I suspect there might be a domestic situation with the Vernons. Do what you can to convince Mrs. Vernon to go to the shelter.”

“Got it, Chief,” the officer said. “I’m on my way.”

When he handed the microphone back to the dispatcher, she handed him back a piece of paper with the make and model of Derek Joiner’s car and the license plate number.

“Thanks, Josie.” He grabbed his hat and headed out the door. “If anything comes in about the Vernons or Claire Kendall or Derek Joiner, patch it through to me.”

“Yes, sir.” The dispatcher’s eyes were wide as she watched him leave.

He drove over to Derek Joiner’s house and pulled into the driveway. No one answered the door, and Seth went around to look in the garage window. Joiner’s luxury SUV was gone.

Seth checked all the windows and doors, but none of them were unlocked and there was no sign that Joiner was in the house.

He hadn’t expected him to be, but you never knew. Criminals did incredibly stupid things all the time. That’s how most of them were caught.

Seth drove to Claire’s house, made sure Joiner’s truck wasn’t there. He sped through Monroe, checking any place that could possibly hide a fugitive and his captive, but there was no sign of either of them.

Frustrated and worried, he pulled to the curb in front of the police station. As he got out, he saw Fred Denton leaving city hall.

“Hey, Fred,” he called, heading across the street. “Have you seen Derek Joiner today?”

The mayor froze and glanced to either side of him, as if he hoped there was someone else Seth was talking to. By the time Seth reached him, the mayor’s face was flushed and beads of sweat were forming on his upper lip.

“How’re you doing, Chief,” the mayor said, sticking out his hand. When Seth tried to look him in the eye, the mayor’s gaze slid away. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Not particularly,” Seth said in a hard voice. He caught the mayor’s gaze and held it. Denton quivered like a bug impaled by a pin. “Where’s Joiner, Fred?”

“How would I know?” The mayor’s voice was all bluster. “It’s Saturday. He doesn’t work on Saturday.”

Seth leaned closer. “Joiner is suspected of a serious crime, Denton. If you’re withholding information, you’ll be charged as well.” He paused for a moment, watched the mayor’s face sag with fear. “Do you want to answer my question now?”

“I didn’t have anything to do with Janice Kendall’s accident,” the mayor said, his voice shrill. “I never knew it wasn’t an accident, until—”

The mayor closed his mouth abruptly, as he realized Seth hadn’t said anything about Janice Kendall.

“We’ll talk about Janice later, Fred. I promise. Now tell me where I can find Joiner.”

“I don’t know.” The mayor licked his lips. “The last I saw him, he was heading out of town.”

“Today?”

Denton nodded. “A little while ago.”

“Was he alone in his car?” Seth leaned closer and the mayor drew back.

“No. There was someone with him.”

“You going to tell me who it was?” Seth asked.

“I’m not sure who it was.”

Seth stared at him until he muttered, “It might have been that Kendall woman.”

“Might have been, Denton?” Seth shifted, rested his hand on his gun.

“I’m pretty sure it was her. It’s hard to miss that dark red hair of hers,” he said with a scowl.

“All right, Denton. As the former police chief, I’m sure you know the drill.” His smile was humorless. “Don’t leave town.”

He was almost in his car when Tucker Hall walked up to him. Nick Kendall was with him, his face drawn and pinched with worry.

“Nick is afraid that something’s happened to his aunt. She’s missing,” Hall said without greeting him. “Do you have any idea where she is?”

Seth glanced at Nick. “I’m aware of the situation.”

“What situation? What do you know?”

Tucker stepped closer, and Seth saw why he’d been feared when he played football. The man oozed menace. “Fred Denton saw her heading out of town with Derek Joiner,” he said, his voice carefully neutral.

Hall’s eyes darkened. “What was she doing with Joiner?”

“I can’t say.”

“Goddammit, tell me what’s going on.”

“Let me handle this,” Seth answered. “Take the kid home. I’ll call as soon as I know something.”

He got into his car and slammed the door. As he pulled out of town, he saw Hall and the kid look at each other. Then they headed for Hall’s truck.

He hoped to God they listened to him.

But based on the look on Tucker Hall’s face, he didn’t think he had a hope in hell of that happening.

Seth accelerated as he left the last houses of Monroe behind him, then switched on the lights and the siren. Now if only he had some idea of where Derek Joiner was headed.