Sean went back to training Angel with Ellen and Sophie the following week, trusting his son to the day care. Now that they were aware of Patrick’s improved mobility, everybody would be taking more precautions. He actually felt sorry for ten-year-old Maisy West. She’d taken a personal interest in helping Patrick and therefore blamed herself for his mistakes.
After careful consideration, Sean had come to the conclusion that Maisy’s tender mothering had helped the boy a lot more than anything and anybody else had, including himself. He and Dalton, her father, were in similar circumstances. Both children lacked a parent. Perhaps Maisy needed Patrick as much as he needed her.
And what do I need? Sean asked himself. A lovely image appeared in his mind. It was Zoe, of course. Who else would it be? He could picture her fitting into many areas of his life, including becoming Patrick’s mother. She’d be good at it. If he weren’t so imperfect, he might even seriously consider asking her to marry him.
For Patrick’s sake? Sure. Partly. But there was another reason, one that kept needling him, awake or asleep. He didn’t want to be separated from his dear friend ever again. Because? Because, like it or not, he was in love with her.
Patrick made it through the second dress rehearsal without a glitch. To the boy’s credit, he didn’t seem at all nervous when Wednesday night arrived. Happily, someone had come up with a fifth shepherd’s crook, so each little actor was similarly equipped.
Angel went everywhere with Sean, as per instructions, and had settled into her job with amazing ease. No matter how relaxed and calm she seemed to be, her ears were always perked, her eyes keeping watch. For Sean, it was like being surrounded by a cadre of alert bodyguards. Nobody was going to sneak up on him—or his son—with Angel on duty.
The change in his outlook had occurred quickly, and although he knew anything could still upset his peace, he felt 100 percent better. So good, in fact, that he didn’t stop himself when he got the urge to hold Zoe’s hand while they watched the pageant performance.
As her fingers slipped between his, a sense of rightness flowed over and through him. Not only had she failed to object, she was returning the affectionate gesture.
Her shoulder bumped his. “Look. Here they come.”
“I see. All five of them, thankfully.”
“Exactly. Thanks to the good Lord, all is well and getting better. Right?”
Sean shrugged a little. “Okay. I’ll give you that. And thanks to the Desert Valley police, one of my assailants is off the streets. Any word on the other guy?”
“Not yet. He may have hit the road when his buddy was picked up. He’s not exactly able-bodied with one arm in a cast.”
“Unless he’s ambidextrous, it’s his gun hand, too.”
“True. Is that why you seem so much better?”
“That, and the dog,” Sean said. “Having Angel with me makes a lot more difference than I’d thought it would. All she really has to do is be there and keep watch. Now that she’s used to me and Patrick, she’s taking her job very seriously.”
“As she should.” Zoe leaned on him, shoulder to shoulder, and squeezed his hand. “Aren’t the kids cute? Look at that angel in the back. She keeps yawning and knocking her tinsel halo crooked.”
“Here comes the hero dog, or should I say camel. I can’t imagine why they’d retire a great dog like Titus.”
“Arthritis and stamina, mostly,” Zoe said. “Chief Hayes took him home to be a pet for Lily. His new dog, Phoenix, knocked over their Christmas tree but Titus is a good boy.”
“That reminds me. We never shopped for the decorations I promised you.”
“One project at a time,” Zoe whispered. “The most important thing is getting you and your dog squared away and making sure that last suspect is captured. Then we’ll shop or hike or whatever you want. I still have a couple of weeks left on my lease. We may as well enjoy the desert while we can.” She shivered. “Even if it does get cold after dark.”
The Magi with their canine camels filed in, led by Titus and Sophie and followed by another yellow Lab who didn’t act nearly as complacent about having extra gear strapped to his back. Zoe giggled. “That’s Tristan McKeller’s dog, Jesse. He’s a lot younger than Titus.”
“Aren’t there supposed to be three wise men?”
“There are. Maybe the third camel had to go on duty and miss this performance.”
“I’ll sure be glad when all this stuff is over.” Sean gave her fingers a gentle press. “I know it’s good for Patrick but...”
“I do understand. The thing is, you can’t expect him to make progress if you continue to baby him. We’ve seen great results in the few weeks you’ve been here.”
He made a face. “Yeah. I don’t like admitting it, but you’re right.”
“Of course I am. Humble, too.”
Muted chuckles apparently made Angel look up at Sean. He didn’t react to her movements until she stood and bristled. Could she be jealous of his feelings for Zoe?
“The dog,” Zoe said. “Look at your dog.”
“I see her. What do you think is wrong?”
“I don’t know.” She gathered Freya on a tight leash and scanned the crowd. “You stay here and keep an eye on Patrick. I’m going to circle around to the back of the set and investigate.”
“He’s fine,” Sean said.
Only when he looked again, he didn’t see his son. Four crooks stood tall in the rear of the tableau. The fifth was gone.
Zoe was already on her way when she heard Sean shout, “Patrick!” Nobody had to explain. Panic was so evident in the man’s voice she knew the child was out of sight. The question was, where had he gone this time? Had the second thug taken him despite all their precautions? That seemed impossible. Patrick had been warned about strangers, so he wouldn’t have willingly submitted. Something else must be going on. But what?
Circling wide, Zoe thought she glimpsed several dark figures fading into the trees at the edge of the parking lot. Freya zeroed in on the distant forms and did her best to drag her handler closer.
Out of the corner of her eye, Zoe saw a flash of white. Angel was on her way, too. One dog might be mistaken, but both were probably right. The struggling at the edge of the lot involved their missing little friend. He hadn’t wandered away. He’d been kidnapped again!
Every nerve in her body fired, driving her forward at a run. She hadn’t heard any shots. But if she didn’t get to Patrick before his father did, Sean could fall into the same deadly trap he’d avoided the last time. Surely he must realize that, yet he was still running toward danger.
He was gaining, on her right, trying to keep pace with the barking, straining border collie.
Zoe pulled her gun and shouted, “Stay back.”
Sean ignored her. All he seemed to care about was Patrick. Reaching him was his only goal.
At that point, Zoe broke a rule, praying she wasn’t making a terrible mistake, and let go of Freya’s leash. The Belgian Tervuren took off as if she were rocket propelled, paws barely touching the ground, fur flying, teeth bared.
Zoe was close enough to see a gun barrel rising. The muzzle-flash came fractions of a second later. Her heart had already been hammering. When she saw someone fire at her beloved K-9 partner, she thought it might pound right out of her chest.
Freya never faltered. She hit the shooter hard, carrying him back and down, then standing on his chest and growling into his face, mere inches away. He tried to bring his pistol to bear on her again.
Gasping, Zoe pushed the last few feet. The gun was rising. Aiming at Freya. She wasn’t going escape injury this time!
In a flurry of fur and shouting, a booted foot kicked the man’s arm hard enough that she heard the cast crack. He screamed. Angel joined Freya by crunching down on the already broken arm and shaking it the way she would a rat.
That fit. The rat was human, and he was down and disarmed. That left only whoever was restraining Patrick.
Zoe trained her gun on the prostrate shooter and ordered, “Freeze,” while Sean picked up the man’s gun and pointed it at the other adult.
A crowd from the pageant had followed and was beginning to gather close by. Someone shone a beam of light on Patrick and his captor. It was a woman. She wasn’t elderly, nor was she as young as Zoe. Her clothing was pristine. Her hair perfectly coiffed. Her nails manicured. She would have presented a comforting picture if not for the look in her eyes. It radiated pure evil.
“Alice! What are you doing here?” Sean shouted.
“I came for my grandson.”
“You can’t have him.”
“Oh, really?” she snorted derisively. “It looks like I already do.”
“You know what I mean.” Sean lowered the gun rather than take the chance he’d accidentally harm Patrick.
“I know more than that,” Alice screeched. “Now all your friends will know it, too. You don’t care for this boy. You just want control of his fortune.”
“What fortune?”
“Ha! You can’t fool me. You know all about the trust. Sandra left everything to her son. She told you. I know she did. She said so before she died.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Sandra was so confused after she got hooked on drugs she told wild stories all the time. I quit paying attention long ago.”
“Liar!” Alice’s grip on the boy tightened. She brandished a knife and pressed it against the side of his small neck.
Sean put down the assailant’s gun and held up both hands, palms out, to demonstrate submission. “I’m not armed. You don’t need that knife.”
She gestured at the man on the ground. “Give him back his gun and back off.”
When Sean’s glance met Zoe’s he knew that wasn’t going to happen. It was a standoff. He looked around. “Get these kids out of here so they don’t have to watch. You, too, Maisy. Patrick will be all right. Go back to the pageant.”
The girl was sobbing to Alice. “Please let him go.”
“He’ll have a wonderful life with me and my husband. And he won’t have to worry about his crazy daddy,” the older woman shouted back.
Sean’s fists clenched. If not for the knife at his son’s throat, he’d jump her and end this. Since Patrick could easily be cut, he had to hold himself in check. He had to.
Flashes of invisible light nearly blinded him. Mortar shells exploded. Sean shut his eyes and covered his ears against the mental bombardment of war. All he could think, all he could do, was call out to the God he had denied and pray from the heart. So he did.
There was no instant relief, but he did begin to breathe more slowly, to feel a sense of encroaching peace. It was as if he were an outside observer, watching a life-and-death struggle over which he had no control.
Blinking, he forced his eyes to open. To focus. Alice was still holding Patrick, still grimacing as if she were readying herself to plunge the knife despite her need to keep her grandson alive.
“If—if you hurt him, you’ll never get custody,” Sean managed to choke out.
“I will if you’re dead. That was the original plan, but those idiots I hired failed.”
“Suppose I sign over the trust. Will that do?”
“You can’t. That’s not legal. We’d been administering it for Sandra, and we’ll keep doing it for the boy.”
Sean was desperate. He shouted, “I don’t want any money! Got that? You can have it all. Just let go of my son.”
“You can end this right here and now,” Alice said. “If your cop buddies won’t let my associate shoot you, you can shoot yourself.”
During the time in the past when he had initially struggled to regain his mental equilibrium, Sean had toyed with the idea of suicide. Now, he had somehow crossed a line and desperately wanted to live. To make a new life and begin to enjoy it. That’s what his counselors had tried to tell him during his darkest hours. There was life and happiness and a future waiting on the other side of his illness. To have purposely ended his life early would have been a selfish, foolish act that would have hurt his loved ones beyond measure.
Nevertheless, he could pretend to agree to stall for time. Surely the officers who had been at the church tonight must be getting ready to act.
Zoe shouted, “No!” as he lifted the gun slightly.
While Alice was holding tight to Patrick, her attention was on Sean, so the deranged grandmother failed to see what was happening behind her. A few armed officers, in and out of uniform, had cut off her escape. That was a start. All Sean had to figure out was how to get her to release the boy without harming him.
The sight of his border collie, Angel, creeping along on her belly like a commando startled him. He knew that breed instinctively herded animals, but he’d never seen her crawl before. Not only was she sneaking up on Alice, she was getting away with it! Above all, he must not let himself give away the dog’s position by staring at her.
A glance at Zoe told him she had seen Angel, too. Was it possible? Could the intelligent dog be acting on her own to end the stalemate? It sure looked that way.
“Well?” Alice screeched, obviously near her breaking point. “What are you waiting for?”
His arm raised a little more. The older woman began to smile. Angel was almost in position. Was she going to succeed in distracting Alice? The idea seemed preposterous to Sean until he remembered his tortuous, rambling, silent prayer.
A deep breath preceded a whispered, “Please, God,” just as the dog’s jaws clamped hard on Alice’s ankle the way they would have on the hock of a misbehaving sheep.
She screamed, let go of the boy and slashed wildly at the attacking canine.
Angel was quicker. She ducked, parried and ran back to deliver a second nip before dashing off again and barking.
Officers reached Alice and restrained her. Sean shoved the unfired gun at Zoe. Patrick dived for his father and ended up grasped tightly, lovingly.
As father and son embraced, Sean felt the arms of a third party wrapping around them. Zoe’s tears of relief mingled freely with theirs, and the rightness of the moment was inescapable.
She was kissing his cheek. He turned his head slightly and did what he’d been yearning to do ever since their reunion. He finally kissed her properly. Seriously. And oh, so lovingly.
It was not only the best kiss he’d ever experienced, but her eager response proved that he hadn’t made a mistake. The only difficulty was stepping away when the police were ready to clear the scene.