Forever Hidden (Forever Bluegrass #2) (25 page)

CHAPTER TWENY-SIX

Deacon put the phone on speakerphone. It only rang once before Ms. Vander snatched it up.

“Did you find her?” asked the panicked mother. Bailey swayed, and with tears streaming down her face, clutched Deacon’s arm for support.

“I did. She’s alive and with me. Would you like to talk to her?” Deacon asked as he fought back his own tears. Ms. Vander’s sobs were clearly heard over the phone.

“More than anything,” Ms. Vander choked out.

“Mama?” Bailey said in a voice so small she sounded like a child.

“Bailey!” Ms. Vander shouted, her voice thick with emotion. “I love you. Oh, Bailey, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Bailey whispered as she gripped Deacon’s arm.

Sydney turned her head to wipe the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I’m coming, baby. Don’t move. I’m coming right now,” Ms. Vander cried.

Zain stepped forward. “Ms. Vander, my name is Zain Ali Rahman. A private jet is waiting for you at the airport and will leave immediately upon your arrival. A car will meet you at the Indianapolis airport and bring you to us.”

“Oh thank you! Thank you! Bailey, hold on, Mama’s coming.”

After that, everyone rushed to have Deacon and Zain call their parents. Within an hour, every girl had cried until there were no more tears, eaten until they were full, showered, and dressed in the fashionable new clothes. Parents from all over the country, and some from other countries, were in private jets making their way to Indianapolis. The FBI had secured a whole floor for their use over the next week.

Agent Helms and his associates were interviewing the girls, and raids were being organized based on the information the girls gave them. Therapists trained in PTSD and sexual abuse were brought in to meet with the girls individually and with their parents when they arrived.

Sydney had her wound cleaned and stitched, and the doctor ordered her to have X-rays for what appeared to be bruised ribs. She swore she’d do it when she got home. She didn’t want to leave the girls since some of them asked her to sit with them while they talked to the FBI agents.

Before Sydney knew it, the door to the suite opened, and Ms. Vander rushed into the room with wide, tear-streaked eyes. “Mama!” Bailey cried as she bounded from the couch and rushed across the room.

Bailey’s mother pulled her daughter to her chest, and the two sank to the floor in tears. Deacon stepped to where Sydney sat at the table with the sixteen-year-old girl Bailey had called Bambi. Her name was Lacey. After telling Agent Helms the horrors she had been through the past month, she was worn out and leaning on Sydney for support.

Deacon placed his hand on Sydney’s shoulder and smiled down at her. The door opened again and a petite woman with large round eyes and a middle-aged man with mismatched clothes rushed in.

“Lacey?” the woman called out as her frantic eyes went from girl to girl, looking for her daughter.

“Mommy, Daddy!” Lacey gasped as Sydney helped the girl up. Her tiny body was so overwhelmed with sobs she couldn’t move, but it didn’t matter. Her parents had her now. They had flown in from Des Moines in such a hurry neither had paid attention while dressing. Her mother was in a night robe over flannel pajamas, and her father was in sweatpants and buttoned-up dress shirt with two different shoes on. They fell to the floor with their daughter cocooned in their arms as they cried, loved, and began to heal.

Over the next six hours, parents and children were reunited. The FBI moved each family to their own room, and finally there was silence. It was four in the morning by the time Deacon and Sydney said goodnight to Zain. Sydney looked dreadful, and Deacon knew he couldn't look so hot either. Now that Sydney had no one else to look after, she let the pain show, and it broke Deacon’s heart. He would give anything to take that pain away.

Quietly, he microwaved some pasta he had squirreled away when room service had arrived earlier. “Here, darlin’. Have something to eat. Then you can take the pain pill the doctor gave you.”

Deacon placed the dish in front of her and watched as she ate. When she was almost finished, he stood up and went into the bathroom housekeeping had finished cleaning just thirty minutes before and started the shower. Sydney had bled on the bed so the sheets had been changed as well. The room was now pristine, and it was hard to imagine all that had happened in it that night.

He headed back to the table and helped Sydney to her feet. She had long ago taken off her boots, but he silently helped her out of her dress and underwear before stripping himself.

“You were my hero tonight, Deacon.” Sydney softly smiled as he held the glass door to the shower open for her.

Deacon laughed. “I don’t know about that. I’m pretty sure you were the hero tonight. I can’t wait to tell everyone back home about how you took that four-hundred-pound man down. Your father will be so proud. I think even Ahmed will be impressed.”

“Is that home, Deacon?” Sydney asked quietly.

“My home is where you are, Sydney. That is, if you want me there.” Deacon held his breath as he waited for her answer. They hadn’t talked about moving in together. It was crazy, but he remembered all those letters from Mrs. Wyatt saying she knew instantly Beauford was her heart and soul. And Deacon knew Sydney was his. He’d move anywhere for her without hesitation.

“More than anything.” Sydney smiled as she cupped his face with her hands and kissed him. And when Sydney’s lips touched his, Deacon knew he’d found the peace, the love, and the home he’d been looking for.

*     *     *

Sydney slept the entire drive home. Her ribs were killing her and the stitches on her leg itched. There was nothing she could do about it, so she decided to sleep. She had snuggled up against Deacon’s side, rested her head on his shoulder, and fallen asleep as Zain and Deacon discussed their meeting that morning with Agent Helms.

Sydney dreamt of a future she hadn’t allowed herself to dream of before. Of a husband, a family, and a life outside of work. And then she dreamt of all the wedding dresses and the letters of her ancestors. Her eyes shot open at the same time the car came to a stop.

“What is it?” Deacon asked quietly as Zain climbed out of the limousine.

“The treasure. I forgot all about it. I have to find the rest of it,” Sydney fretted.

“Not until you rest. The doctor in Indianapolis said your ribs were bruised, and it would take four weeks for them to heal.”

Zain bent down and looked back into the limo. “Listen to your boyfriend. I've already heard from my father. He wants us to rest for the day but expects us all there tonight so we can tell them what happened. See you all at seven.”

Zain shut the door as Sydney fought for reasons to skip resting, go to Wyatt Estate, and search for the treasure and whatever secrets lay hidden in it. Deacon ran a finger over her brow and smiled down at her. “Stop thinking. It’s written clear as day on your face that you’re trying to come up with a reason to do what you want to do. Let’s collect Robyn and go home.”

Sydney finally took a breath and then cringed. It hurt to breathe that deeply. “Okay, maybe you’re right.”

The limo stopped at Bridget’s dog training facility, and Deacon helped her stand. The dogs were in training with Bridget standing in the middle, watching. She turned when she heard Deacon close the door and waved them over.

Sydney and Deacon came over to the fence and looked into the training area. A handler was working with Robyn. He held a piece of material in his hand and gave Robyn an order. The little roly-poly puppy sniffed the shirt and then looked up at the handler.

“Find it,” he ordered.

Robyn took off with her nose to the ground as she went over obstacles and through tunnels. She wove her way around the training course until she came to a large box. She sat down and yipped at the box. The trainer smiled and Bridget shook her head as the trainer lifted the box to find a person hiding underneath.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sell Robyn? The government or a private security firm would pay a fortune for her,” Bridget called out.

“I’m sure. She’s my girl.” Sydney smiled back as Robyn grabbed a chewed shoe from her handler and ran straight for her. She opened the gate and bent down to catch the flying puppy in her arms. Sydney grimaced in pain but held on to the happy puppy.

“If you’ll let me, I’ll continue having her trained as a search-and-rescue dog. She could come in handy around here with the woods. Remember that child who got lost last year?” Bridget asked and Sydney nodded. “She has one heck of a nose on her. Robyn can track people, pick out explosives, and even detect knock-off luxury shoes. It’s the strangest talent I’ve ever seen.”

“Of course you can train her. That boy was lost in the woods overnight. If Robyn can help if that ever happens again, I want her trained and ready to go,” Sydney said as Robyn wiggled over to Deacon and demanded to be picked up.

“I know you travel a lot since your headquarters are in New York City, so if you ever need a dog-sitter, just let me know.” Bridget smiled at the playful puppy with eyes that took in a lot more than she let on.

“I’m thinking about making some changes,” Sydney said cryptically. “But I’m sure Ahmed wouldn’t want Robyn running around the house any more than she has this week.”

Bridget laughed. “They have come to an uneasy truce. He thinks she’s plotting to take over the world, and she’s letting him believe it. She found a way to scare him to death every morning. One day when he woke up, she was standing over him. She didn’t bark or anything, just stared. Then once he stepped out of the shower, lifted the towel from where it hung, and she was underneath it. He swears she winked at him. Personally, I’ve never laughed so hard as I did when he came running naked from the bathroom, swearing the dog was trying to kill him.”

Sydney laughed and then groaned. Bridget’s eyes swept over her and then gave Syd a tight smile. “Bruised or broken?”

“Bruised.”

Bridged nodded knowingly. “Hurts like the devil, but just keep breathing deeply. They’ll start to feel better soon. Luckily there are no real physical limitations on you. Wait, are you limping, too?”

“Stabbed with tweezers.” Sydney grinned.

“Tweezers? Who does that? Now a switchblade . . .”

“A model does that when that’s the only weapon she has on her. Trust me, I'd much rather get stabbed with tweezers than a switchblade.”

Bridget shrugged. “Yeah, but then you don’t have a cool scar like this one.” Bridget raised her shirt and showed off a scar on her side.

“Oh please,” Ahmed said as he walked up behind them. He pulled up his shirt a bit and Sydney blinked. Ahmed still had a six-pack. No wonder Bridget always looked so happy. “Now, this is a knife scar.”

Robyn rolled her eyes and almost fell from Deacon’s arms.

“Spawn, it’s such a shame you’re leaving,” Ahmed taunted.

“She’ll be back tomorrow. She’s going to have day camp here while we finish her training,” Bridget explained.

Robyn's tongue now rested just out of her mouth as though she were mocking Ahmed. Sydney looked between the puppy and Ahmed. They had matching twinkles in their eyes. Some things—Robyn’s apparent ability to understand people, her simultaneous ability to demonstrate her belief that humans are beneath her, and Ahmed’s pleasure in trying to outwit a dog—were just better to leave alone.

“So,” Sydney said while shaking her head at man and beast, “we’ll see you tonight?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss hearing how you got stabbed. Your father is going to be apoplectic. It’ll be hilarious.” Ahmed smiled.

“Aren’t you the father who sent out a whole armed security team when Abby was five minutes late for curfew?” Sydney asked innocently. Ahmed and Bridget’s daughter was four years younger than Sydney and was finishing up a Master’s program at George Washington University. She was also the source of all of Ahmed’s worries. She shouldn’t be, though. Between having Ahmed as a father and Bridget as a mother, Abby knew how to kill someone twenty different ways with nothing but her hands. And if you gave her a fork, well, then things would get interesting. Kale, their youngest, was a computer genius. He was currently at MIT, but everyone from private security to major Internet companies and governments all over the world were already vying for him to come work for them. He got off light on the dating front. Ahmed was too busy sending drones after Abby to worry about Kale’s social life.

Deacon smothered a laugh behind a cough. Ahmed’s piercing gaze swung to him. “You laugh now. Just wait until you have a daughter.” With that warning, Ahmed chuckled to himself and headed into the training facility.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Ahmed had underestimated Marshall’s reaction to his daughter being stabbed by tweezers and then crushed by a gargantuan guard. As the dramatic rescue of the girls was told, Marshall became redder and redder. Deacon feared he’d have an aneurysm.

“Where the hell were you?” Marshall demanded of him. “You were supposed to keep her safe!”

“I was fighting to get to her, sir,” Deacon told him. “It stopped my heart when I saw her leap onto that man’s back. But, you would have been proud. She held on and choked him out. She put everything you taught her into action.”

Wyatt made a strangled noise from his seat at the table. “What is it?” Mo, Zain’s father, asked.

“Nothing.” Wyatt smiled a second before someone else’s cell phone pinged and then another, and another. “Sis, I’d run if I were you,” Deacon heard Sydney’s brother whisper a second before Katelyn gasped.

“What is it?” Deacon asked.

“You’ve gone viral,” Wyatt said as he tried to hide a smirk on his face. He handed Sydney his phone and Deacon leaned closer.

“Model Mayhem,” Sydney read out loud. She scrolled down the screen and gasped at the same time Ahmed smiled.

“That is an rather impressive headlock, my dear,” Ahmed said from across the table.

Deacon stared at picture after picture of the fight in the hallway at the stadium.

“Nice thong,” Zain quipped.

Deacon shot to his feet at the same time Marshall did. The two of them looked at each other from across the table, and in that instant, Marshall looked at him with respect. Deacon didn’t know if it was for him defending his daughter’s honor or for the picture that showed him taking down two men at once. Frankly, he didn’t care. He was just glad he had it.

“How did they get these pictures?” Sydney asked as she continued scrolling down. “Patrick! He says his GoPro accidently turned on when he reached into his bag for the tripod, and it captured the whole thing.”

“Oh, honey,” her mother said softly as Deacon and Marshall took their seats. “And you too, Deacon and Zain. I couldn’t be prouder of you three than I am right now. It takes good people stepping up to defeat evil like this. Those girls are back with their families and safe because of you all.”

Sydney walked around the table to hug her mother, and Deacon picked up the phone. He scrolled past the pictures and scanned the article. It was an interview with Patrick. He told of Sydney’s determination to rescue the women taken by Emily and her ring. He told of how Deacon and Zain went into the devil’s lair and came out as warriors protecting the innocent victims. And it talked about the responsibility people had to not turn their heads and look the other way when something bad was happening around them.

Deacon sat back and stared at Sydney’s parents hugging her. He felt his phone buzz and saw his father was calling. He must have seen the article as well. Deacon quietly excused himself from the table and walked out into the hall.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Well, it looks like you’ve been busy with more than spying on cheaters,” his father said sarcastically.

“I’ve never spied on cheaters, and you know that,” Deacon said, suddenly tired of fighting with his father.

“Yes, I know that. You did good, son. Now it’s time to come home. I want you to take over the company. With this press, you’ll be set for life.”

“Dad, I’m already set for life. What I do now makes a difference. I help people, and I want to continue to do that.” Deacon paused. “And I’m not coming home. I’m relocating to Kentucky.”

“First, you’re never too rich. Second, why would you do that? Do you know how many calls I’ve gotten from my friends wanting to invite you to dinners with their very lovely daughters? It’s about time I had a grandchild.”

There was something in his father’s voice that caught his attention. It wasn’t the money; it was the move that bothered him. “Would it make a difference if I told you I’m moving in with Sydney Davies, the woman I’m madly in love with, and that someday soon I hope to marry?”

“Marry?” his father said hopefully before laughing. “Why, yes, I believe that would make a difference.”

“You were never angry that I left the company, were you? You were upset that I gave up on the marriage,” Deacon said with realization.

“Of course I was upset. You’re my only child, and I wanted you to have what I had with your mother, God rest her soul. Love. And you can’t find love while you're solving crimes. Why do you think I pushed you to go to all those dances and parties? Now, tell me about my future daughter-in-law. I always wanted a daughter. I met her once you know. At some charity event a while ago.”

Deacon felt silly as tears began stinging his eyes. “She’s the most amazing woman in the world. She’s the one in the article. I've been living at her great-grandmother’s house in Atlanta. Her great-grandmother told me I needed to meet Sydney because she knew that I would love her. By the time I met her, I was already half in love with her after everything Mrs. Wyatt wrote about her. But it paled in comparison to the real thing. She’s my everything.”

“This makes an old man very happy. I felt the same way about your mother.”

“You never told me that, Dad.”

“Fell in love with her the second I saw her, married her a month later, and still feel her in my heart. I guess I should have told you that sooner. I just didn’t know how. What are you waiting for? Ask that girl to marry you. Now, where the hell is Keeneston?”

Deacon hung up the phone after giving his father directions and setting a date for him to come visit. Deacon had never felt so light, so free, so happy. He was in love, and a family he thought he had lost had returned. Now all he wanted was to make his own family. He could see them sitting around a table: Sydney by his side, children running around with his in-laws, and his father spoiling them rotten—it was all in his reach. And he wasn’t going to wait a second longer to make it a reality.

Deacon spun around with all the hope of the future filling his heart and just as quickly, that hope sank. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest was Marshall.

“So, you want to marry my daughter?”

“More than anything in this world,” Deacon said, his voice tight with emotion. He would marry Sydney with or without her father’s blessing, but he sure wished he had it.

Marshall tightened his jaw and looked him over. Deacon held his breath. “Well, I’ll be mighty proud to have you as my son.” Marshall grinned and held out his hand. Deacon hurried over to shake it.

“Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid you came out here to kill him,” Sydney sighed with relief. “What’s going on out here?”

“Just had to help give Deacon’s father some directions. He’s coming up to visit soon,” Marshall lied smoothly. He leaned forward, kissed his daughter’s cheek, and went back inside the dining room, but not before sending Deacon a wink.

“That’s nice about your dad, but I’m exhausted. Are you ready to go home?” Sydney asked.

“There’s no place I rather be.” Deacon put his arm around her as they made their way to the car.

*     *     *

“Deacon, can you get the door?” Sydney yelled from upstairs. Deacon had kept her down for a couple days, but today she was determined to find the treasure, so he was downstairs making breakfast while she dressed.

“Sure,” he called up. He walked to the front door and saw an armed guard standing there. “Can I help you?” Deacon asked through the closed door.

“You can if you are Deacon McKnight,” the man answered back.

“I am,” Deacon said, looking for a weapon and only finding an umbrella.

“I have a package from your father.”

“Oh.” Deacon set down the umbrella and opened the door. “And he had to send an armed guard?”

“Sign.” The man held out an electronic pad and examined the ID Deacon had to turn over. Deacon signed it, and the man gave him a small box. “Have a good day.”

Deacon tore open the box and stared at the dark blue box inside. He pulled it out and opened it. A large, round diamond set in a diamond-encrusted band looked back at him. It was his mother’s. His father had sent his mother’s engagement ring that had been in the McKnight family for generations. He looked at the ring and was amazed at how something so small had changed so many lives. And it was now about to change his.

“Who was it?” Deacon shoved the ring into his pocket and turned around with a smile on his face.

“Just something I had to sign for Agent Helms. Are you ready?” Deacon hoped to change the subject, but Sydney didn’t let it go.

“What did you have to sign?”

“My statement.”

“Didn’t you sign it while we were at the hotel?”

Deacon nodded. “Signed the wrong place. I told him I’d sign it again.”

Sydney shrugged. “Okay. I’m ready to go.”

Deacon smiled at her and took her hand in his as they walked to the garage. He was going to get married. Now all he had to do was make a convincing enough argument for Sydney to say yes.

Sydney didn’t believe Deacon for one second. Message from Agent Helms, her ass. She watched him as he drove toward Wyatt Estate. She had told Wyatt they were going to spend the day there, but he was booked with four-legged patients all day and wouldn’t be able to help them search. Deacon’s mind was somewhere else, and that just reinforced her belief that he was lying to her. His eyes were focused on the road as he turned into the drive. They hadn’t said one word to each other the entire short trip to the farm.

Deacon pulled to a stop in front of the old house that had been in the Wyatt family for generations. He hopped out of the truck and walked around to open her door.

“Ready to find your treasure?” He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. What had happened that morning?

“Sure am.” Sydney turned and headed into the house as her mind ran wild. She tried to rein it in as she took a deep breath and looked around the house.

“Which room was Mrs. Wyatt’s favorite?” Deacon asked her.

“The living room. She felt it was the heart of the home.”

“Then let’s start there.”

Deacon waited for her to lead the way. As Sydney headed to the living room, she grew more and more nervous. She walked into the warm room and stopped to look around. She paused in front of a painting of her great-grandparents on their wedding day that had to be five feet tall. She missed them so much.

“Sydney,” Deacon said quietly from behind her. Sydney turned and Deacon smiled tightly at her.

“What really happened this morning?” she asked. She had to know.

Deacon flushed, and he knew she knew he had lied to her. He looked up at the painting behind her and smiled faintly at it. “You know, Mrs. Wyatt told me she knew the second she met Beauford they would have a grand romance. I thought that was strange. Who knows instantly that they are in love? Your ancestors did, judging from the letters they left behind. And apparently I do, too. I knew the second I saw you, with dirt smeared on your cheek as you dug up my yard in the middle of the night, that I was going to love you. My whole life changed in that one instant. My life before you now seems so inconsequential. It is nothing compared to the future that I can't stop thinking about—a future of holding you in my arms every night, celebrating the joys of life together, and leaning on each other during the hard times. Of children and puppies and family. Of love.”

Sydney felt her lips tremble as she fought back tears. Everything Deacon said was what she had experienced. But then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dark blue box. Sydney’s heart soared into her throat as Deacon went down on one knee in front of her and held up the box. He opened it, and the beautiful engagement ring made her catch her breath. Her eyes flew back to his, and in them she saw their future.

“And as I told our fathers last night, I love you with all my heart, and I always will. There is nothing that would make me happier than having you as my wife. Sydney, will you do the me greatest honor of marrying me?”

The question broke her as she gasped, “Yes!” And then Deacon had her in his arms, and she laughed as he twirled her around. She laughed for being so silly. She laughed for the pure joy of being in love. And she laughed because she was so happy she thought she might burst.

“I love you so much,” Deacon said reverently as he set her down and slid the ring on her finger.

“I love you, too.” Sydney flung her arms around him and kissed him for all she was worth.

Deacon speared his fingers into her hair as he kept her mouth on his. His tongue swept gleefully in as he backed her up against the wall. Sydney was panting by the time he yanked her shirt from her body. The key her great-grandmother had given her rested on a necklace between her breasts. Deacon grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head as he kissed his way down her neck and over her collarbone.

“Yes, Deacon!” Sydney cried as his warm kisses slowly made their way toward her peaked nipples.

“Wait,” Deacon said suddenly. He dropped her hands and stared above her head before turning to stare at her breasts.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” Sydney asked between heavy breaths.