Lost and Found (18 page)

"I know. I'm not really looking forward to seeing them again."

"Well, you don't have to worry about it for now. We're going to my mother's. From there, we can try to contact Emmet and call the police."

"The police! I don't want to involve them in this."

Sam reached over and caught hold of one of her hands. "We've got to at least call and tell them that you're all right. They think you've been kidnapped, remember?"

"Of course. You're right." She took a deep breath, her fingers curling around his. "Do we have to tell them my family was involved? If the press gets hold of that, they'll have a field day with it. It's bad enough being the 'Malone heiress' without adding this to it. Couldn't we just tell them that you rescued me and leave it at that?"

Sam's response could not lessen the quiver in her voice. "I suppose that's enough. For now. But if we find out we're talking attempted murder, I won't help you cover that up."

"I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding."

"Some misunderstanding," he muttered but he didn't argue any further. They both knew it wasn't a misunderstanding but he understood her need to keep that hope alive. He wouldn't take it away from her.

❧

It was just after four o'clock in the morning when Sam stopped the car in front of his mother's house. The quiet neighborhood slept, though there were lights on in one or two houses, a reminder that, for some people, it was time to get up and go to work.

Babs woke from a light doze and stretched sleepily. She looked so vulnerable that Sam wanted to catch her up in his arms and take her as far away from her demented family as possible.

"Are we here?"

"We're here." He reached into the back seat and grabbed his pack before opening his door. "Come on."

"Won't your mother mind us getting her up at this hour? Maybe we should wait a while."

"Mom won't mind. She's used to me showing up at weird hours. Besides, it's too cold to hang around out here."

Babs lagged behind him on the short walk to the porch. He knew she was uneasy about dropping in on a stranger at this hour but he also knew he could depend on his mother to put her at ease. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and found the one that fit the door. It felt strange to be doing something so totally normal as opening the front door of the house he'd grown up in.

He pushed open the door and then stood to the side, waiting for Babs. She hung back. "I don't think this is such a good idea. What if she thinks we're burglars? I don't want to scare her."

"We aren't going to scare her." He reached out, catching her arm and tugging her into the small hallway before shutting the door behind them. "Stay there and I'll find a light."

"Sam? Is that you?"

"It's me, Mom. Sorry we woke you." There was a click and Babs blinked in the sudden flood of light. She had a vague impression of floral wallpaper and hardwood floors but her attention was focused on the woman coming down the stairs. Sam went forward to greet her, meeting her at the foot of the stairs and putting his arms around her, swinging her off her feet.

"Beautiful as ever, I see." His mother laughed, a sweet, youthful sound.

"Put me down, hooligan, and let me look at you." He set her on her feet and she looked up at him, studying him with a mother's eye. "You've got a bruise on your cheekbone, which probably means you've been in a fight, and you need a shave. I was beginning to worry about you."

"I'm okay. We're both okay." He smiled at Babs over his mother's head and Cecily turned.

"You must be Babs. It's so nice to meet you." Babs came forward slowly, wondering whether she should hold out her hand or just smile. Cecily appeared to think that neither of those was appropriate. She held out her arms, enveloping the younger woman in a quick hug. The gesture was warm and genuine, a welcome Babs had never received from her own family. She returned the hug awkwardly, blinking back tears.

Cecily stepped back, putting her hands on Babs's shoulders. "You're much prettier than your pictures. Even prettier than your uncle Emmet said you were."

"You've talked to Uncle Emmet?"

"Has he been here?"

The two questions ran one on top of the other but Cecily didn't seem to have any trouble sorting them out.

"Yes, I've talked to your uncle and yes, he's been here." She tightened the belt of her long velour robe and ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing it into casual gray waves. "I bet you're both hungry. Why don't you come into the kitchen and I'll make some coffee and some breakfast. You can call Emmet from the phone in there."

She linked her arm through Babs's. "Emmet has been very worried about you."

"What did he tell you?" Sam asked the question as the three of them stepped into the huge kitchen.

"He knows your family arranged the kidnapping and he knew about Sam's call to say he'd rescued you, but then the two of you just disappeared. We didn't know what happened."

"It's a long story, Mom. If you don't mind, could we wait until Emmet gets here so we only have to tell it once?"

"Of course. His number is right there next to the phone. That's the hotel he's staying at. He refused to stay with the family."

"You want me to call him?" Sam asked Babs quietly.

"Would you mind? I think I'd start crying." She smiled but her mouth quivered and he knew she wasn't far from tears now.

"Come on, sit down and have a cup of coffee and think about how nice it is that nobody's shooting at us." He reached out and brushed her hair back from her face, his fingers gentle. Babs turned to rest her cheek against his palm for just a moment, drawing strength from the contact.

Cecily watched the exchange, her eyes narrowing. She couldn't see her son's face but she could see the girl's. Her expression was revealing and Cecily wondered if Babs had any idea just what was written there. An even stronger question in her mind was whether Sam saw the same thing and how he felt about it.

By the time Emmet arrived, Sam and Babs were working on their second cups of coffee and Cecily was halfway through preparations for a breakfast of bacon and eggs and hash browns. When the doorbell rang, Babs set her cup down with a thud, slopping coffee onto the table top. She didn't even notice. Cecily looked at her, her eyes warm.

"Why don't you go answer that?"

"Thank you." Babs hurried from the room. Sam watched her leave. His mother watched him.

"She's very pretty."

"Yes, she is."

"She seems sweet."

"She can be." Sam reached for a napkin and mopped up the spilled coffee. "She can also be quite a spoiled brat."

"That's not surprising, growing up with all that money." She chopped potatoes into neat cubes. "The two of you must have gotten to know each other pretty well."

"I suppose."

"I've heard it said that you can get to know a person's true colors when they're under stress. Babs seems to have come through this in good shape."

"She's got guts." Sam's tone was deliberately noncommittal.

"Amazing how close you can get to someone when you're alone with them for days on end."

Sam's smile held a weary edge. "Look, Mom, if you're playing matchmaker, give it up. You're about as subtle as a steamroller. Besides, it's a ridiculous idea."

"Why?"

The simple question seemed to throw him off balance and he stared at her for a minute without speaking. "Why? For a million reasons. Several million, in fact."

"Her money? Don't be ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous. Besides, this whole discussion is irrelevant. Babs and I have managed to get along just fine because we had to but we have nothing in common. Once this whole mess is settled, we'll go our separate ways and that will be the end of it."

Cecily hadn't been a mother for thirty-five years without learning when to drop a subject. She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug as if to say that Sam might be right. She slid the potatoes into hot oil and set a lid over the pan before glancing at her son. He was staring at his coffee, his expression brooding. Sam could say what he wanted but she knew what she'd seen in his eyes when he looked at Babs.

When Emmet and Babs entered the kitchen, there were tearstains on her face and his eyes were a bit brighter than normal. Sam stood up as Babs slipped out from under her uncle's arm. Emmet stopped and held out his hand.

"I suspect I've got a lot to thank you for, Sam. When we parted company in Mexico, I never would have thought we'd meet up again quite like this." He shook Sam's hand, the fierce pressure expressing his gratitude.

"I'd like to tell you it was no big deal but, starting with Babs trying to push me off a balcony, I'm afraid we've both had a bit more on our hands than either of us wanted."

"Tried to push you off a balcony, did she? Well, I'm sure she had a good reason. So, tell me what's been going on. We haven't heard a word from you in days. I was beginning to think you'd decided to kidnap Babs yourself."

"Breakfast is just about ready. Why don't you all sit down and we can talk while we eat."

"It smells wonderful, Mrs. Delanian."

"Call me Cecily. I certainly plan to call you Babs. I've got lots of food and I have a suspicion that it's been awhile since the two of you had a good hot breakfast."

Well, we almost had one a couple of days ago but Babs started a fight and we never got to eat." Sam threw Babs a teasing look and she grinned.

"I didn't start that fight. George started it. I was just minding my own business."

They bickered back and forth while Cecily dished up food. Emmet and Cecily watched them, noting the easy camaraderie, the way their eyes met, holding so many memories. Emmet glanced at Cecily, a question in his eyes. She smiled and shrugged lightly, denying any positive knowledge but the faint smile that quivered around her lips gave her opinion. Looking from one to the other, Emmet's mouth curved. Maybe Sam Delanian was just what Babs needed in her life. This whole kidnapping insanity might not turn out to be such a bad thing after all.

It took over an hour for Sam and Babs to tell their story. In between bites, they took turns talking, telling the whole adventure, starting with the kidnapping itself, through Sam's rescue, the fight at the motel, their travels in the moving van and finally, their escape from the farmhouse.

By the time the story was told, the food was all gone and they were lingering over fresh coffee. While they talked, the sun had come up outside and was spilling cheerful spring light into the big kitchen.

"So what was happening here while we were gone?" Babs asked the question of her uncle. "How did you find out about the kidnapping? Did the family tell you about the paintings?"

"I found out you'd been kidnapped the same way the rest of the world did—I read about it in the paper. I don't think they'd have told me a thing but Bertie let the cat out of the bag. At least enough of the cat that they had to tell me the rest of it.

"They honestly thought they could get away with cheating a man like Stefanoni, and with kidnapping you. I don't think the lot of them has touched base with reality in years. I talked with Stefanoni and he's willing to forget the whole thing, as long as he gets the real paintings."

"I bet Aunt Dodie liked that."

"She just about had a heart attack but I didn't give her much choice. Anyway, that end of the mess is straightened out. Now all we've got to worry about is whoever has been taking potshots at the two of you."

"I'm sure it's a mistake of some kind." Babs's tone was more pleading than firm. "We may not get along but I can't believe that any of them would actually kill me.

Emmet shrugged and said nothing, letting the comment lie as if he might agree with it. But meeting his eyes, Sam knew he didn't believe it any more than Sam did. Someone in the Malone family wanted Babs dead. The question was: Who?

"
I
really don't want to intrude."

"Don't be silly, Babs. I'd love to have you and Sam stay here with me." Cecily's warm tone could not be mistaken for anything other than sincere welcome. Still, Babs hesitated.

"I really think this will be the best thing," Emmet said. "It will give me a chance to find out what's going on. I can dump the car you stole so you can't be traced from that. You and Sam can stay here for a couple of days until I've made a few inquiries and have found out who's behind the shootings."

Babs looked from her uncle to Sam, her eyes questioning. Would he mind her staying with his mother? She wanted to stay. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was to go back to that mausoleum the rest of the family called home. It had never been a home, not in the real sense of the word. But she didn't want to stay here unless Sam wanted her to.

"I think it would be a good idea, Babs. You'll be safe here until we know what's going on. It's only for a couple of days. You can stand me that much longer, can't you?" He grinned but there was something in his eyes beyond humor. There were questions there, uncertainties that mirrored her own.

Everything had changed so quickly. When it had been just the two of them, struggling to survive, things had been fairly simple. Now, wrapped in the cozy warmth of his mother's home, everything had shifted in some subtle way—and she couldn't put her finger on it.

Babs turned to Cecily. "I'd like to stay, if you're sure you don't mind."

"Not a bit. Why don't you come upstairs with me and I'll show you where you'll be sleeping and where the bathroom is. I bet a hot shower would feel nice."

"Heaven. Hot water has been in short supply over the past few days."

Sam's eyes followed the two of them, his expression unreadable. When they were out of sight, he looked at Emmet.

"So, what do you really think? Is there someone in the family who's capable of murder?"

Emmet ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it into iron-gray waves. His eyes were worried. "I don't know. It's hard to say what people will do when money is involved. There's not a one of them that's worth a plug nickel and they've never quite gotten over Babs having the money to buy and sell the whole bunch. She never held it over them and she's bailed them out time and again, but that just made them resent her more."

"So what do you think the next step should be? Do we call the police?"

"I suppose we'd better call and let them know Babs is no longer a kidnap victim. I still have some friends on the force. I think I can convince them to keep this quiet, at least for a day or two. When it was just a matter of this ridiculous kidnapping scheme, I was willing to try to keep the family out of it. But if one of them is trying to kill Babs, then they'll have to take their chances just like ordinary mortals."

"Well, those were definitely real bullets they were shooting at us and the guys who jumped us at the motel looked real serious about their work."

"I'll see what I can find out. I want to thank you for what you did for my niece."

Sam shrugged. "I just did what had to be done."

But now that it was done, where did that leave him and Babs?