Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (131 page)

If only.

I was released, pending possible contact if they needed anything else. Cade and I stopped by the hospital to see his father who was again referring to him as “Joey.” I left the room almost as soon as we entered. Father and son needed time together. I wasn’t sure how much more they’d have left.

Eddie’s room was under twenty-four-hour surveillance, and with the feds involved, I wouldn’t be able to get to him. Not that I hadn’t considered trying. I went to the lobby, and waited until the nurse forced Cade from the room. “Detective McCoy needs his rest,” she’d said. He’d persisted, saying his dad didn’t want him to go. But no amount of pleading was enough to appease her. It was a speech she’d probably heard a hundred times before, one she was immune to.

Cade glanced around the waiting room, trying to spot me in a sea of unhappy people. His eyes looked different from the first time we’d met. They no longer had the same spark. They were a pale grey now, not the lustrous blue I’d remembered.

“Do you think he’ll talk?” Cade said.

“Eddie?”

Cade nodded. I shook my head.

“He doesn’t have a reason to. Even if they try and make him a deal, it won’t be the kind he’ll take. At this point, I don’t think he cares. He’s critical. He’d rather die than face more prison time. He doesn’t give a damn about the children. I could probably walk in his room and choke what little life he has left out of him—he still won’t tell me where they are.”

It was a sad reality, and I didn’t want to face it. I wanted to believe I could still find Olivia and Savannah. We knew who he was, and the feds were tearing apart every inch of his life for even the smallest clue, but would it lead them to the girls? I wasn’t optimistic.

Cade pulled off the road next to where my car was parked, and I got out. Both of us were too deflated to say much of anything. I promised to call once I’d returned to the hotel. He nodded and drove away. I was just about to open the door to my car when something moved inside. Great, I thought. Even with the windows up, at least one animal had managed to find a way inside somehow. I stepped back, considering the various possibilities, but anything could have been nesting inside.

I approached the driver’s-side window, cupping my hands over the glass. I looked in, but I couldn’t see much. My window tint was too dark. I scanned the ground, looking for a fallen tree branch. I found one, picked it up, and made a plan. I’d yank the door handle open and sprint away, hoping whatever was inside would scamper out, hop out, or fly out. I didn’t care, as long as it was out.

I pulled the door handle back and ran to the other side, using the tree branch like I was a baseball player up to bat. I watched. I waited. Nothing came out. Maybe whatever it was had been under the car, not in it. I crouched down, holding the stick out in front of me. I waved it around. Still nothing. With both eyes partially open, I leaned over, looked under the car, and was relieved when all I found were pine needles and forest debris.

I approached the driver’s-side door again, stick in hand. Holding the stick out in front of me, I looked in. The driver’s seat was empty. The passenger seat was empty. The back seat was full.

Two girls were lying down, clutching each other, shivering and cold. They stared at me, unsure of who I was or what I was doing there. Their arms were scraped up like they’d been walking through the trees at night in the dark. I suspected they had. The older child’s cuts were dry. The younger had several scrapes on both arms, and even one on her leg, which was bleeding. It looked like the older girl had ripped a piece of clothing, tying it around the little one’s ankle as best she could. I had expected to find them in pajamas since they had been whisked away at night, but one was wearing jeans, the other a summery dress. No wonder she was cold.

I threw my hands over my mouth and welcomed the tears that followed. Not their tears, mine. I’d found them—or they’d found me—at last.

Eddie Fletcher had let them go. Why? Because he was planning on killing Cade as soon as he had his money. Cade knew too much. Eddie knew he couldn’t let him live, but something inside his sick, twisted mind allowed just enough mercy to spare the children. He probably thought he’d left them to die in these woods, but at least he didn’t have the heart to do it himself.

The younger girl clutched the older girl’s hand, squeezing it tight.

“It’s okay. You are safe now,” I said. “Don’t be scared.”

They looked at each other, saying nothing.

“My name is Sloane, and you must be Olivia,” I said pointing to the older one.

She nodded.

I looked at the younger one. “And you’re Savannah.”

“How do you know our names?” Olivia said.

“I’ve been looking for you. Everyone has. Are you ready to go home?”

Olivia jerked back, shaking her head. “I’m not going back there.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you. I didn’t mean to. I’m taking you back to your real homes now.”

I spent the next several minutes reassuring them, saying little about the search to find them and making sure to touch on only the details they needed to know. They’d suffered enough heartache—I’d leave the other details for their parents—let them decide.

I went to the trunk. When I returned to the front seat of the car, I handed something to Savannah.

“Mr. Fluffy!” she cried.

“Your friend Sierra gave this to me,” I said. “She said it would keep you safe.”

I promised again to take them home, to their real homes. They sat in the back seat side by side, holding hands. In the rear view mirror I caught a glimpse of Savannah, squeezing Mr. Fluffy and smiling.

I made it out to the main road and called Cade.

“Is everything okay?” he said. “I didn’t think I’d hear from you this soon.”

“I found them, Cade!” I said. “Well, actually, they found me. I have Olivia and Savannah. They’re safe!”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

I didn’t know what it felt like to be the president of the United States, but when I arrived at the police station, I imagined it must have been similar to what I was feeling. Cops, feds, and office staffers stood outside, waiting, a look of disbelief on their faces. Noah Tate sprinted toward the car before it lulled to a stop, pulling the back door open. He gripped his little girl with both arms, pulling her toward him. Olivia’s mother waited, cautious, a tissue clutched in her hand. I imagined the difference in her daughter from age six to age eight was staggering. But they were home, and they were safe. Nothing else mattered.

Olivia exited the car slowly, unsure at first. Mother and child didn’t run to each other, they walked—as if in slow motion. Tears dripped down Kris’s cheeks every step of the way. When she finally reached her daughter, she kneeled and held her for several minutes, neither wanting to let go.

Kris whispered something in Olivia’s ear, and Olivia nodded. Then Kris walked over to me.

“I don’t know how to thank you, Ms. Monroe,” she said. “I never believed I’d see my daughter again.”

It wasn’t something I felt I could take credit for, so I used the moment to shed light on something else.

“You can thank me by putting Olivia first,” I said, “from here on out. Don’t allow anyone to come between the two of you.”

She nodded, understanding my meaning.

After the initial commotion died down and I made the rounds, Cade waved me over. We went outside. In the last hour, Eddie had passed away. No one seemed to care. Not anymore.

“So, I guess they’ve got a solid lead on the company Eddie Fletcher worked for,” he said. “The company runs some kind of child trafficking operation—everything from babies to teenagers.”

“I hope it gets shut down.”

“Yeah, me too. You headed home today then?”

“I’m not sure yet. I guess so.”

“We make a good team, you know?”

I winked.

“Are you offering me a job?”

He shrugged.

“I’m sure the chief is dying to hire a feisty woman without any legitimate law enforcement experience.”

Cade put his arm around me. “You know what I mean.”

“I feel the same way. I’ve never liked working with a partner before, but it’s different with you.”

He squeezed my shoulder and then let me go. “If you’re ever
not
dating someone, you know where to find me.”

I leaned in, kissing him on the cheek. “Maybe I will.”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

I was an hour into my drive home when Cade called.

“Miss me already?” I said.

“My dad. He’s—”

No! He couldn’t be. Not yet.

I didn’t want to finish the sentence, say the word “dead”—it seemed such a callous and inappropriate thing to say to someone who’d just lost a parent.

“Has he passed away?” I said.

“About an hour ago,” Cade said. “I wasn’t even there, Sloane. I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

My body stiffened, my hands unable to grip the wheel any longer. I pulled the car over. Cars whizzed past at high speed, but life had just slowed to a stop for me.

“I’m sorry, Cade. Are you okay?”

For the next several minutes, I offered a comforting ear, listening to Cade reminisce about some of the best memories he’d shared with his father. He mentioned everything from fly fishing to the time his dad taught him how to ride a bike. It was his way of dealing with the loss. At the end of the conversation, he didn’t ask me to come back. He just said he didn’t know who else to call, and he thanked me for listening.

The car idled. I squirmed in my seat, taking my seatbelt off and then putting it back on again. I didn’t even know why I sat there. It wasn’t my father who’d died, but what a difference our short time together had made. Cade had surprised me; he wasn’t like other guys. It usually took me months, sometimes even years to form a lasting friendship with someone—man or woman. But he’d become just that—my friend. And I didn’t have too many close ones.

A text message popped up on my phone. It was Lucio: Boss needs you to come home right away.

I replied: Why?

Lucio said: Talk about it when you get here. Giovanni asks how long you’ll be.

Being under someone’s thumb had never worked for me, even when it came to Giovanni. In the time we’d known one another, he’d always allowed me to lead my own life. But lately something had changed. It wasn’t a control issue; it was something more, like he was watching out for me as if he
had
to. Maybe his sensitivity was heightened because of what happened to Daniela. I wasn’t sure.

I had a decision to make. I thought about continuing home, and I thought about Cade. He was suffering, and I owed him a lot. I was sure he wouldn’t have seen it that way, but he’d accepted me, treating me like an equal on the case when few others would.

I texted Lucio: I have unfinished business here. Giovanni will have to wait.

And then I called Cade.

“I’m not letting you go through this alone,” I said. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

I steered the car to the next exit and then turned around. On the drive back to Jackson Hole, I thought about my life, what I wanted, what I needed, and where I was going. I didn’t know, really. All I could see was the day in front of me and where it would take me: back into the life of a new friend.