Final Mend (29 page)

But she would. She would pick it up and leave, and that was one thing that kept her silent.

They sat in silence for a long time, listening to the night drones. He didn't touch her, didn't look at her.

“I'm sorry,” he finally said, the softness of his words slipping into night's womb.

She might let him leave, but she wouldn't hold grudges or make him feel bad. Turning her face to his, she palmed his cheek and lifted a finger to skate across his brow bone. “Don't worry about it.”

“What I said was wrong.” His gaze, highlighted by the moon and the night sky, dipped to her mouth and returned to her eyes. “I was so angry. So afraid. And I lashed out at you when it's not your fault. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I understand. It's okay.”

He leaned forward and kissed her. Soft and hesitant turned to passion and hunger as he urged her backward, to lie on the blanket.

This time he made love to her like he needed her, like he never wanted to let her go. And he didn't, all night long.

• • •

Twilight woke them. They huddled under a blanket, overcoming the chilly morning in each other's arms. They made inconsequential talk, avoiding serious subjects.

Bruised clouds clogged the sky, hanging low. She had a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view and could tell it was raining around them. Winona knew they'd have to get off the mountain soon if they didn't want to get caught in the rain the mountains desperately needed.

She rose to retrieve iced coffee from her pack and a breakfast bar, and decided to check her phone for news and messages.

A few dozen text messages awaited her. And just as many voice mails. Surely Jake hadn't sent all this. Thumbing through them, she found only one from Jake. The rest were from Garret. Sounding desperate.

“Shit,” she said, wondering what called for the emergency. They all knew she had gone to the mountains. Was the weather worse than she thought?

She dialed his number, but it didn't have enough bars to go through. She sent him a text and within minutes, her phone beeped with a reply.
Get to my house now.

Be there soon
, she texted in response.
Everything okay?

“What's the matter?” Jake asked as he rose and wrapped himself in a blanket.

“Not sure. But we'd better get dressed and get to Garret's.”

“Why?”

“I don't know. He texted to get to his house immediately.”

Winona feared Jake would fall apart in front of her. His whole body slumped. His face turned ashen, his brows knotted in fear. “Is it Amy?”

“He never said that. He's probably just worried about the rain or something.”

Her phone buzzed again, asking if Jake was with her. She replied as she and Jake packed up the site.

Jake opened the door of his truck, starting it. “Get in. We'll take my truck.”

“I can't leave Chayton's Jeep here. He'd kill me. Besides,” she continued, “You're in no condition to drive.”

His scoff turned hateful. “This again? You don't think I can handle myself and my truck?” He revved the engine. “Then I guess you'd better keep up.”

• • •

Rain poured as they made it off the mountain, and it looked like it had rained in town all night and the rain hadn't reached the mountains. The roads were wet and slick. In his rush, Jake hydroplaned and had to keep it slow so as not to wreck. Winona was seconds behind when he pulled into Garret's driveway.

Jake cut the engine but remained sitting, staring. The house loomed, its doors and windows like the teeth of death, waiting to shut him in. Whatever happened between those walls, whatever news Garret had to share, might change his life forever. Jake expected the worst.

The rain was now only a drizzle. Garret stormed out of the house and waited under the porch canopy for Jake to get out of the truck. His expression sent shivers of fear to Jake's bones. Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. If something had happened to Amy, he would throttle Lillian.

He knew he should have turned back yesterday. He didn't blame Winona. She did what she thought was right, and it had been right. If he'd turned back, he and Lillian would only have argued until something terrible happened. Jake didn't have rights. The police could escort him away and lock him behind bars where he'd never be able to help Amy.

He stepped out the door, humidity pasting his skin with sweat. He lumbered to the porch, Winona on his heels.

“I've been looking for you both all night,” Garret said.

“You knew where I was. Jake managed to find me.”

“Jake might have known where to find you, but I damn sure didn't. And Chayton took Naomi out of town for date night and wouldn't answer his phone either.”

“What is it?” Jake asked, his shoulders hunching, his mind preparing for the worst.

“Get inside, out of the rain.” Garret's voice anchored Jake's heart in a landfill of angst.

Claws of death dragged him inside the house, the only way he could have made it inside without stumbling. They all stepped through the door, and Garret locked it behind them.

Turning from the door, Garret steeled his gaze on Jake and didn't waste any time. “It's Lillian. She's claiming Jake never brought Amy home.”

“What?” Unbelievable. Unexpected. “How—”

“Amy is missing again. Lillian claims you kidnapped her.”

White heat flashed behind his eyes. His internal body temperature dropped while his skin boiled in indignation. His mind raced with what this meant.

“Cops came here to question me. They're looking for you. I've put a call into my friends and am waiting to hear from them. If we don't do something soon, you'll be put behind bars. At least until they can't hold you anymore.”

“They can't possibly believe her,” Winona defended. “I was with him. I'm a witness.”

“He could still be arrested or at least held for questioning.”

Winona wrung her hands as she paced. “That's exactly her plan. She wants Jake out of the picture so he can't do anything to find Amy.”

“She's underestimated his friends.”

Reagan approached with coffee and breakfast rolls. Jake passed on the rolls but took a cup of coffee. One drink made his mouth taste like sweaty sneakers, waxing his stomach in slime. He set the cup on a table and didn't touch it again.

“I've been up all night on the phone with some of my contacts with the FBI. I got my former cyber-crimes unit to look into things. We think we found something in Lillian's email. She sent a message to someone that said she's ready, and then another email where she wasn't the sender or receiver, but she did receive a copy. We're still trying to trace the email address.”

Winona took the paper, and Jake peered over her shoulder. He studied the words, but they swam in his vision.

“Your package will be delivered at the appropriate time,” Winona read. “You know the spot.” She waved the paper, the sound a carillon that filled Jake with resentment.

“That's it?” he asked. “What does that mean?”

“We think Amy is the package.”

• • •

Winona watched Jake crumble before her. He kept his chin up, his shoulders straight, but his lips sagged, his eyes grew glassy. He fell to the couch.

It was her fault. All her fault. They never should have left.

But then again, if they hadn't, the police probably would have been knocking on their hotel door and arresting Jake.

“Her vehicle was found at a roadside park,” Garret said.

Jake jumped up. “A roadside park?”

“We have cops canvassing the area now. They've set up checkpoints up and down the major highways. So far, nothing.”

Jake grabbed his phone and punched in a number. Winona assumed he was calling Lillian.

“What about her cell phone?” Winona asked Garret as Jake hung up and tried again.

“It was found in the console of her car. We're going through the numbers she's called and tracking those, but chances are she has another phone she's using. We're searching all kinds of records, trying to figure it out. Some of my contacts are breaking laws by not going through proper procedures, and most are doing it only because there's a little girl involved.”

Jake paced. Helplessness overwhelmed Winona. She could do nothing but pray Lillian hadn't done something crazy, like sell her only child to a monster for no telling what.

She wanted to bury her face in her hands and bawl like a baby. Wail. Scream. Throw a fit. The urge became almost unbearable. She slipped outside and let the door slam behind her, then took off running down the hill. Tears of worry wrenched out of her as hard rain fell on her, pummeling her with the wrath she deserved.

The rain felt moldy, the smell a sweaty stench in her throat. She let the downpour pelt her with the beating she deserved.

What could she have done differently? If they had stayed, Jake would probably be in jail right now. But then, jail might be the best place for him so he couldn't do anything stupid.

She was gone all of five minutes. She hated to be gone much longer in case something happened. The pace she ran felt like a marathon.

Reagan stood under the roof, waiting for her, concern etched on her face. She handed Winona a cup of coffee. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Winona cried. She swiped away a tear. “No, I'm not okay.”

Reagan wrapped her in her arms. “We're all praying for her.”

“If I hadn't been such a failure, we wouldn't have to.”

Reagan stepped back and stroked Winona's hair away from her tears. “What do you mean, a failure? This is none of your fault.”

“Yes, it is. I should have taken Jake seriously. I should have been investigating that woman. Surveillance. I should have done surveillance on her. I should have done my job.”

“Technically, you're retired. And once Amy was found, it didn't seem necessary.”

“Garret considered it necessary. If he hadn't found out what he had so far …”

“He did all of that last night after Lillian claimed Jake had kidnapped Amy. And Garret had talked to Jake yesterday, so he knew it wasn't true. He was awake all night doing whatever it is he does to investigate. He hasn't slept. You would have done the same thing.”

Instead, she'd been on the mountain making love to Jake under the stars.

Winona squared her shoulders. What was done was done, and there was no changing that. But she'd do what she could to fix it. “True. And now it's time to find the bitch.”

“He's a fed! He'd a fucking fed!”

Well, an ex-fed. But that made no difference. Lillian didn't bother correcting the man on the phone. Kevin. The man who wanted to buy her daughter.

Ben held the phone with one hand, the steering wheel with the other, and drove like the hounds of hell were after him. Lillian could hear the entire conversation, Kevin's irate voice louder than the rain pounding on the vehicle.

Her selfishness had escalated her to the desperation point. Desperate enough to kill, have someone killed, and even sell her own daughter. And Dillon, poor Dillon, had nothing to do with anything, despite what Jake thought. Dillon was an innocent pawn and looked good on her arm when the cameras were rolling and she needed to grieve. She'd dumped him once she no longer needed him for money. Besides, he was a pansy and she now had the money to be picky.

“We're heading to the cabin now, boss. We're out of harm's way. They'll never find us. We'll be there soon.”

“I can't trust you …” His voice grew garbled, and Ben flinched.

Lillian finally had her whole life in front of her. She'd never wanted to be a mother, but she'd look like a horrible mom if she gave her daughter up. Ben had made things easy by getting Brandon out of the picture and finding a buyer for Amy. With Amy being kidnapped, Lillian could grieve and might even have a chance to be famous. She wouldn't be just another poor soul whose daughter had been killed. She could change the world.

When Amy had escaped, Lillian had had no choice but to act like a rejoicing mother and wait for a better opportunity. Accusing Jake was her perfect opportunity, but Ben had insisted she accompany them until the exchange so that she could keep watch on her daughter.

And now, fear raged in her belly. She was almost positive Ben planned to kill her.

“Mo—uh, Lilly?” Amy's voice wavered, and Lillian trembled. She glanced in the backseat, where Amy huddled.

“Everything's fine, darling. Take a nap. Don't listen to what the adults are doing up front.”

“Who …”

“Shh,” Lillian said.

Ben thrust the phone to Lillian. “He wants directions.”

Chills deluged Lillian's spine. She faced the front and hesitated before taking the phone. His first name was all she knew about him. She'd never met him, never wanted to meet him. Ben was the fence between Lillian and Kevin. He was supposed to make the exchange and hand her daughter over without Lillian ever meeting them. She had chosen the cabin as the spot because it was remote and Jake was probably the only person alive who knew about its existence. One treacherous mountain trail led up to the cabin, and the rest by way of public roads. Amy couldn't walk out and into a café to be found again.

But they could easily dispose of Lillian's body.

The truck bounced, and Lillian let out a soft yip. Ben's face had narrowed considerably ever since he heard the news about Garret being a federal agent, and now his face contorted into a painful grimace.

“Uh, hello?”

Kevin's screeches were garbles. Her chest expanded in fear, making her breath flighty. She squinted, as if that would open her ears and her mind and tell her what to do.

She stumbled over the directions as she shouted them to Kevin, but all she heard was static. They had reached an area of the mountain that made phone calls difficult. Maybe he couldn't hear her. Maybe they couldn't trace them and figure out where they were.