By mutual agreement, they moved into the study. Adam picked up the book he’d been trying to read. Liz crossed straight to her computer and checked her emails.
Both of them looked up as Charlie and Rerun bounded down the stairs. She poked her head in the study. “Jeremy’s been asleep about an hour. I’m almost finished packing.” She lifted her hand with the leash in it. “I’m going to take Rerun out back to do his business for the evening and then I’m turning in. I have a long drive tomorrow.”
Liz swung her computer chair around to face her. “I’m sorry to see you go.”
Adam seemed to have a walnut-size lump in his throat at the thought of Charlie leaving. He knew it would be too long until he saw her again and that lump was doing a good job of keeping him from being able to say anything at all.
“Now don’t the two of you go all mushy on me. There’ll be plenty of time in the morning for goodbyes. I’m not heading out until I cook up one storm of a breakfast. Dream tonight of the hash browns, bacon, sausage, eggs and cinnamon buns that will be waiting for you in the morning.”
“Cinnamon buns?” Liz laughed and patted her stomach. “I’ve already gained two pounds eating your cookies.”
Charlie shot a grin at Liz. “Laughter sounds good on you. You should do it more often.” She headed toward the kitchen.
They both heard the back door slam and went back to their business.
Minutes later, they heard Rerun barking furiously. It was the frantic tone of it that caught Liz’s attention.
Adam rose to see what was going on and Liz followed. They reached the kitchen just as Rerun burst through the back door, straining on the leash so hard that Charlie had to let it go before she fell on her face.
“What the…?” Adam watched the dog bound for the stairs.
“I don’t know.” Charlie, out of breath from being pulled across the yard, righted herself from her almost prone position. “I’ve never seen him like this. He was sniffing around like he always does, then he alerted, sniffed the air and took off. I couldn’t stop him. He wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Jeremy.” Liz drew her weapon and raced for the stairs.
Adam and Charlie were close behind. When the three of them reached the loft, they saw Rerun scratching furiously at Jeremy’s bedroom door. The dog would actually pause, jump up to throw his front paws against the wood and then scratch again.
Adam didn’t know what was worse—the piercing sound of the security alarm when it had tripped earlier or the echoing frantic barking of a panicked dog.
“Something’s wrong.” Liz ran to the door. She yelled for Charlie to get hold of Rerun. Then she gestured for Adam and Charlie to move to the side and out of the line of possible fire.
Adam recognized the command in her eyes and knew she wouldn’t appreciate his expression of concern or any interference. He clenched his teeth but moved aside, showing her the respect due her as the sheriff. He knew she was fully capable of handling whatever waited behind that door. But he would be one step behind her when she went in—just in case she needed him.
Once she seemed certain Charlie and Adam were safe, she slowly turned the doorknob, threw open the door and entered with gun drawn.
Adam saw her holster her weapon and run.
He ran after her.
She crouched over a crumpled bundle on the floor beneath the open window.
“Is he okay?” Charlie pushed her face over Adam’s arm so she could get a closer look but he held her back and wouldn’t let her get any closer.
“Give Liz a chance to check things out.”
Liz lifted a rag from the floor, holding it gingerly between her index finger and thumb. She brought it to her face, took a whiff and looked at Adam.
“Chloroform.”
“Chloroform?” Charlie grabbed a plastic bag of computer discs and emptied them on the desk. She held it out to Liz. “Put it in here.”
Liz dropped the rag into the bag and sealed it up. It wasn’t ideal—the forensic guys would have a cow—but the rag would only get more contaminated if she left it out.
Meanwhile, Adam checked Jeremy’s pulse and his pupils and carried the child back to his bed. “Adam?” The fear in Liz’s voice clenched at his heart.
“Is he alive?” Charlie asked.
Both women’s faces wore worried expressions and Adam hurried to reassure them. “He’s going to be fine.”
Jeremy began to stir. He rubbed his fists against his eyes. When he opened them, he said, “Bad man. Jeremy said no. No bad man.”
Liz’s eyes watered and she smiled at the child. “You’re right, Jeremy. No to the bad man. Good job.”
This wasn’t the first time in the past two weeks that Adam had witnessed this tender, maternal side of the normally tough, take-no-prisoners sheriff and, as much as he didn’t want it to, it endeared her to him even more.
Liz, being careful not to touch the windowsill, leaned her head out the open window. Quickly she drew back inside and shouted at Charlie, “I just saw a man dressed in black dart into the trees. Call the station. Get help out here. Give them that description and make sure you tell them an officer is in pursuit.”
“Wait a minute!” Adam’s heart thundered in his chest. It was one thing to let her enter a room first when he knew he was right behind her if she needed help. It was another to watch her run off into the night alone in pursuit of a killer. “What are you doing?”
When she looked at him, her gaze was hard, cold and determined.
“My job.”
She drew her weapon and raced from the room.
* * *
Tree branches slapped her face and ground vines threatened to wrap around her feet and trip her. Although Liz had made concessions about not wearing a uniform around Jeremy, at this moment she was grateful that hadn’t included her gun or her boots. She had to admit she wished she’d had her flashlight or her two-way radio right now, though.
She moved as quickly as possible through the thicket and brush and squinted her eyes for more focus in the darkness. Lit only by moonlight, it wasn’t an easy trail to follow. The man was nothing more than a shadow among shadows—except he was the shadow that ran.
When she thought she’d lost him, she paused, stood perfectly still and listened.
Quite a distance ahead, to her left, it sounded like a herd of elephants crashing through the brush. Whoever this guy was, he didn’t know the first thing about stealth. Now that she knew which direction to go, she too threw stealth to the wind and broke into a full-out run in an attempt to close the distance between them. She barely noticed the brambles biting through her pant legs or the sharp stinging of unforgiving branches as she rushed past.
Chest heaving, breath coming in deep gasps, Liz burst free from the woods and spilled onto the main road just in time to see the rear lights of a car disappear around the bend.
Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t stupid. He’d taken a chance parking his vehicle on the main road where it could have been easily spotted or even hit. But he seemed to know the risk was minimal and that this stretch of road was barely used at this time of night. He knew better than to turn his headlights off and ease up the dirt road to the circular driveway. He’d rather carry a chloroformed child through the woods than chance being spotted during a perimeter check or by someone hearing tires crunch on gravel.
But why didn’t he kill Jeremy when he’d had the chance? He could have easily smothered the child in his sleep or slit his throat or strangled him. Why kidnap him? He knew the parents weren’t alive to pay ransom for the boy’s return. He had made sure of that.
Liz’s insides simmered with anger and a healthy dose of fear. This had happened on her watch. Right under her nose. She’d allowed herself to get complacent, too comfortable with Charlie, too on edge and aware of Adam. She had let down her guard. She never would have forgiven herself if anything had happened to Jeremy.
The welcome sound of sirens and the sight of flashing lights drew her attention as two cars spun into the sharp right leading to the house.
Liz jogged up to the dirt road. Her face felt as if it had been stung by a thousand bees and her thigh, still recovering from the auto accident, throbbed each time her foot hit the ground, but still she continued jogging until she reached the gravel driveway, and then she walked the rest of the way. As she approached, she saw Sal, Paul and Adam standing under the portico. Adam gestured wildly toward the woods. Probably insisting that they go looking for her. Paul was the first to see her.
“You okay, Sheriff?”
“I’m fine.”
Paul shone a flashlight in her face as she approached and Liz had to reach up and shield her eyes.
“You don’t look fine. You look like you should see a doctor.”
“Paul, stop shining that light in my face.”
As she stepped beneath the porch light, she heard a collective gasp.
Sal immediately crossed to her side. He stared hard at her face but otherwise showed no outward signs of emotion. It seemed neither one of them wanted an emotional repeat of the day of the accident. “So, who won? You or Muhammad Ali?”
Liz grinned and then grimaced as pain shot through her face.
“Did you catch him?” Adam asked.
“No, he had a car waiting on the main road. I got there just in time to get a good look at his taillights disappearing around a curve—but, unfortunately, not quick enough to catch any of the license plate numbers.”
“I don’t get it. Why’d he try to snatch the kid? Why didn’t he just kill him?” Paul’s puzzled expression echoed her feelings completely. “Maybe the guy drew the line on killing a kid.”
“Then why snatch him?” Liz asked. “What was he going to do with him if not kill him?”
“This man didn’t have any trouble brutally beating and killing the child’s parents. It’s not that far a leap for me to believe he intended to kill Jeremy as well,” Sal said.
“Then why didn’t he?” Liz’s question hung in the air between them.
“We won’t know until we catch him, will we?” Sal turned his attention to business. “What do you want us to do, boss?”
Grateful that Sal was there to help step in and run things, she said, “Do what you need to do, guys. Sal, call it in. The perp was dressed all in black and wore boots. His car was a four-door sedan. I think black, maybe dark green. Hard to tell in just moonlight. I only got a glimpse of it. I’m judging mostly from the size and shape of the trunk. When you’re done, see if you can find any prints on the windowsill in Jeremy’s bedroom or any other forensic evidence in the room.
“Paul, you catch up with Charlie. She has the chloroform rag in a bag. We need to get it to the lab, then you can give Sal a hand.”
Gingerly she touched her eye. She could feel the swelling. She was going to have one prize-winning shiner in the morning.
“Tomorrow, when it’s light, we’ll take a closer look at those woods,” she said. “Even though it’s been dry as a bone these last few weeks, we could get lucky and find a boot print or two. You never know.” She grinned and looked down at her torn jeans. “And with any kind of luck, maybe we’ll find a piece of ripped clothing from him to help us.”
The two men grabbed gear out of their cars and went to work.
As soon as they disappeared upstairs, Adam stepped forward and slid his arm around her shoulders. “Come with me, Sheriff. I have an ice bag with your name all over it.”
“Hmm, handcuffs now ice. As long as you don’t bring up the subject of whipped cream.…”
Adam laughed and, pulling her closer, led her into the house.
Charlie looked up from her perch at the kitchen counter when they entered. “Wow! Tell me you beat the bad genes right out of that guy.”
Liz laughed and then winced. “Sorry, Charlie. Never laid a hand on him. Never got close enough. I have some nasty tree branches to thank for this.” She gestured to her face and collapsed on a nearby stool.
Charlie stepped closer. “Look at the size of that lip.”
“Charlie.”
A stern admonishment from Adam wasn’t enough to silence her. “I’d be careful and stay away from Rerun for a little while. He absolutely loves sausage.”
“Charlie!”
“What? I’m just saying.”
“We could use ice. Lots of it.”
Charlie tilted her head and took a hard look at Liz’s face. “You need more than ice.” She threw a look over her shoulder at Adam. “You get the ice. I’ll grab the first-aid kit.” She hurried from the room.
“Sorry about that.” Adam wrapped ice in a dish towel and gingerly held the pack against the side of her face. “Charlie’s never been known for her tact.”
Liz started to smile but remembered what happened when she moved that bottom lip and instantly stopped. She took the ice pack from Adam’s hand and held it against her lip.
Adam moved to the sink. When he returned, he carried a warm, wet cloth and washed her face, moving the cloth in slow, gentle circles against her skin. The task was strictly professional—a doctor tending to the wounds of the injured. But the painstakingly gentle way he touched her, the feel of his breath fanning her skin, the warmth emanating from the nearness of his body. It seemed so intimate, so personal, she could barely breathe.
“You scared me, you know.” His voice had a deep, husky tone.
“Scared you?”
“Running off into the dark…alone…after a suspected killer.”
“It’s what I do. I’m the sheriff, Adam…and sometimes the job is dangerous.”
“I know.” His eyes darkened in intensity. “But it was hard watching you go. I was worried.”
She reached up and caught his wrist before he could finish his task.
“Why would you worry?”
“We may not be together anymore but we’re still friends.”
“‘Friends’?” She directed a steady, probing gaze at him. “Is that what we are, Adam? Friends?”
“The two of you can figure all that out later.” Charlie burst into the room with her usual bolt of energy and nudged Adam away with her hip. “Right now, we’re working together to fix up the sheriff’s face. Then the three of us are going to figure out what happened here tonight and how we are going to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Charlie smeared first-aid cream on a cut on Liz’s cheek and then ministered to the cuts on her hands, which she’d used to shield her face.