Not This Time (25 page)

“Are you sure?”

“Unfortunately, I am.” She walked into the study and lifted the coffee cup, walked through the house and up the stairs, then down the hall to the spare bedroom. For some reason, Sara wouldn’t sleep in the master suite.

Beth cracked open the door and peeked into the bedroom. Sara lay curled up atop the covers, a throw over her legs and feet, clutching a pillow to her chest. Relief and disappointment shafted through Beth. She’d hoped to glimpse Sara’s feet to see if there was bruising along with the ankle swelling. New shoes hadn’t caused that swelling, but Sara might have tripped or stumbled, and that certainly could have. But for now Sara rested peacefully.
Fantastic
.

Beth pulled the door closed. Moving down the hall, she passed a long and
narrow table. Its surface gleamed. This house was just plain unnatural, perfect and lifeless and totally without character or charm. It used to have both. It used to feel … happy.

Beth grabbed the handrail and started down the wide staircase. There was no denying that Sara had been worried, sad, afraid, and tense. She deeply feared the kidnappers and what they might do to Robert. But in the last twenty-four hours something else had come to light. Something unexpected and as strange as anything on the growing, lengthy list of recent oddities: Sara was angry.

Angry.

Baffling.

Outsiders would peg that anger as fear, and fear was there, naturally, but it was rooted in anger. An anger so atypical of Sara that Beth didn’t understand it.

Who was Sara angry with? God? Her parents for dying and leaving her? Robert for allowing himself to be kidnapped? Or was her anger directed at herself because she hadn’t prevented those things? From the work at Crossroads Crisis Center, Beth knew that was a common reaction. Or was Sara angry because she didn’t know simple things about her spouse?

Beth let her hand glide down the banister. It could be any or all or none of those things. Fear was never rational, and it was mean. It didn’t matter whether or not you deserved it. If fear got its claws in you, it would sink them in deep, shred your heart, and rip out your soul—all just because it could.

Stepping down to the foot of the stairs, she returned to the living room to get an update on the leads being checked out. They needed a break in this case in the worst kind of way. They needed contact from the kidnappers.

Roxy was seated at her electronics table doing something on the computer and looked up when Beth walked in. “Any news?” Beth asked.

“Nothing.” She tried to mask her frustration, but Beth saw it in her eyes.

“Can I get you anything?”

“I’m good.” Roxy nodded to a stainless-steel thermos on the end of the
table. Of all them—Roxy, Mark, Ben, and Jeff—only Jeff would accept even a cup of coffee from Maria, Sara, or Beth. Must be some kind of rule.

Beth crossed the hall. As she passed the study, she heard Mark on the phone. His deep voice carried out to her, though his tone told her he wasn’t having any better luck at chasing down phone leads than Ben was having checking transportation, credit card usage, or ATM withdrawals.

Soul-weary, Beth went on into the kitchen and poured herself some lemonade. She sat down at the table and placed the glass alongside Boudin’s coffee cup. What she wouldn’t give now for some of Nora’s calm wisdom to come and melt her frustration. Not being disheartened when thwarted at every turn proved difficult.
Get proactive
. She grabbed her cell phone and checked in with the office.

“SaBe. How may I direct your call?”

“Margaret, why are you answering the phone?”

“Helping out. We’re getting a lot of calls and e-mail support messages. I’ve set up folders for them. Do you want me to forward them or respond?”

“Respond to the ones that came to the office and leave the personal ones. We should respond to those ourselves, I think.” Beth stared at Boudin’s coffee cup and swallowed from her own glass. “Anything else going on?”

“Henry’s in Dallas finalizing a feeder-firm agreement. He’s scheduled back tonight. Otherwise, business is quiet.”

Beth finished up the call and then set down her phone and finished her lemonade, waiting for something else—anything else—to happen. She spotted a dark scratch on the cup from Ruby’s and reached for it, then examined it. Loose but small letters:
Sha
.

Joe.

She smiled but it quickly faded. He’d warned her of Sara’s three hospital visits. That she was in trouble and needed help. Sara was able to speak for herself, and if she felt that reveal would do Robert any good, she would have told Jeff herself. Beth telling him would only be betraying Sara for nothing. Since she hadn’t revealed recognizing Thomas Boudin, she could tell Joe and even tell
him about Boudin. He didn’t let her see his face on the terrace because he feared she’d recognize him. Had it disappointed him that she hadn’t? Was there an actual case? Had to be. His warning about Robert had been genuine. Maybe he expected her to recognize him, or was he testing his disguise? Regardless, no one else would write
sha
on a promised cup of coffee. Jeff had heard every word between them in the hallway, but Joe could have revealed himself when they were outside and alone. Yet he hadn’t said a word.

“You’re confusing me, Joseph.”

Beth grunted. Here she sat thinking it was odd that Sara knew so little about Robert but was crazy about him, and she was just as bad. That she hadn’t married Joe brought little solace. If he asked and he was serious, she would.

That’s the sign
.

She gasped. It was. That was what Nora meant. Good grief, Beth was in love with the man.

Oh no. It was an awful time to even think about something as fickle as love. Especially with a man like Joe. When she’d felt attracted to Thomas Boudin, she had felt twinges of guilt for being disloyal to Joe. Boy, would he get a laugh from that. Not that she’d tell him. Well, not yet anyway. She thumbed her glass. Tilted it and watched the ice clink against its sides.

Okay, so she wouldn’t tell Jeff. If Joe had wanted him to know, he’d have told him. But it wouldn’t hurt to have Margaret run the insurance forms submitted and see what came up.

Wouldn’t hurt? Breach Sara’s privacy and her trust
—
on something she would have disclosed if she’d wanted you to know, and you say it wouldn’t hurt?

Shame slithered through Beth. She couldn’t do it. There was nothing Sara wouldn’t disclose about herself to get Robert back safe.

But she’s admitted she’s not sharing something
. How could Beth protect herself or Sara against an unknown?

Thomas Boudin—Joe—wouldn’t say Robert was lethally dangerous unless he was lethally dangerous. He thought the two Roberts were the same man or he wouldn’t have said they could be. He just couldn’t yet prove it. Joe’s warning
replayed in her mind.
“If no one has a picture that clearly shows Tayton’s face, then guard his wife. This Robert is lethally dangerous.”

Harsh reality set in and Beth shuddered.

Sara could be married to a killer.

13

F
riday afternoon, Jeff approached Beth and Sara. “We’re running out of time and budget.”

Beth spotted three idle agents in the living room. That wasn’t a good sign.

Jeff lowered his voice. “If something doesn’t break soon—word from the kidnappers, an attempt to retrieve the money from the Gulf, a new lead,
something
—they’ll have to assign the agents to other cases.” His stomach growled.

“I understand.” Sara sighed and stood. “Would you like a sandwich or something?”

“I would. I missed lunch.”

Beth watched them walk out of the family room and worried. Sara was falling for him. It was evident in everything she said and every move she made. She wouldn’t act, but the feelings were there and growing, and from all signs, they were there for Jeff too.

Regret squeezed inside Beth. If Robert weren’t in the picture, Beth would be elated. Sara and Jeff brought out the best in each other. But Robert was in the picture, and that made what was going on, well, Beth didn’t know what to think. Neither, she suspected, did Sara or Jeff. Both were honorable people who respected marriage vows. How had things gotten so messy?

Roxy and Ben came into the family room. “We’ve got to go, Beth. Before I leave,” Roxy said, “I wanted to tell you that I expect headquarters is going to cut—”

“Jeff told Sara and me. She understood. What can you do when nothing is happening?”

“I’m sorry. We are still working on it, but frankly, we need a break.”

Ben stepped forward. “We’ll keep working on this privately. I remember what it was like. Not knowing who killed Susan nearly drove me out of my mind. I’d turn over every stone to spare Sara that.” It’d taken years to find his wife and son’s killers.

“Thanks, Ben.” Mark and Joe would do everything humanly possible, and so would Roxy on her own if not through the FBI, but if Robert Tayton didn’t want to be found—and that was possible if he was Joe’s other Robert—then he wouldn’t be found. It’d be just like Robert to leave Sara trapped in the heartless misery of uncertainty for the rest of her life.

And because Beth had no doubt he was capable of inflicting such misery, for the first time, she didn’t just not like him. She feared him.

A man who could do that could do anything.

A hard rain started after dark and persisted through the night and the next morning. By afternoon, the local weatherman dubbed it Stormy Saturday.

Grim-faced, Jeff met Beth in the hallway. “Do you have a minute?” He kept his voice down. “I need to speak to you privately.”

“Sure.” Beth led him to the family room. “This okay?”

“Where is Sara?” He looked back at the door as if worried she would suddenly appear.

“In the shower.” This couldn’t be good news. Beth braced.

He tugged at his earlobe. “It’s been seventy-six hours since we’ve had any contact.”

Resignation slid through her. “The honchos have executed reassignment orders. That’s why Roxy and the agents haven’t come in today.”

“Yeah.” Sympathy flashed through his eyes, then stayed. “I’m sorry, Beth.”

Thunder rumbled and shook the house. Rain beat hard and heavy against the windows, splattering fat drops that dripped down the glass panes. Beth
smoothed her hands down her thighs. What else could they do? The agents couldn’t hang around waiting for a call that didn’t appear to be coming. “I expected this before you mentioned it yesterday.”

“Off the record, if Robert and Sara weren’t so well connected, it probably would have happened sooner. The case has gotten a lot of media attention, and the honchos don’t want it to appear as if we’ve abandoned them. Honestly, we haven’t. We’ve just exhausted all leads.”

“If everything’s been done, then there’s nothing left to do.” She’d heard Mark tell Ben to triple-check something yesterday, which meant they’d already double-checked everything. “Your efforts border on heroic, Jeff. Seriously.” Reality had to be accepted.

“We’ve pulled the money from the tube. It’ll be recorded and held for a time, but if nothing springs loose within a couple weeks, we can petition …”

“Sara repaid me. I doubt she’ll be worried about it.” Beth dragged her teeth over her lower lip. “She understands the drawdown, but she’s going to take removing the money hard.”

“That’s why I’m telling you first.” He hitched his slacks. They were wet from the rain nearly to his knees. “You think she’ll be okay? Or do we prepare for another attack?”

“I think she’ll be okay.” The man standing in front of Beth was partially the reason.

“I hate doing this to Sara.”

The tenderness in his voice tugged at her hard. He’d developed strong feelings for Sara.
Oh, but that he’d been first, before Robert
. Sara would have been happy with Jeff. Now she was unhappy, and poor Jeff was falling in love with yet another woman who couldn’t love him back. It was just heartbreaking, especially considering that the emotional toll of his job was so heavy and yet he willingly put his heart out there anyway. Such a brave man. “Will anyone be here?”