All I've Ever Wanted (18 page)

A
lice St. James tugged, pulled and shoved boxes as thick clouds of dust rose from nowhere and everywhere at the same time and sent both her and Tommy into coughing fits.

“What are we doing,” Tommy asked. Glancing over his shoulder toward where he knew the door to be, though it was too dark to see it. “He might come back if we're too loud,” he warned in a small voice.

“Don't you worry about him none. We've got a little surprise for him.” She swept her foot across the floor.

Tommy coughed as another wave of dust floated around him. “What's that?” he asked.

“That's grandma's secret.” She reached down and pulled open the latch she'd found by touch and mem
ory. “You see, years ago your great-grandfather had this wonderful idea of how we'd survive if we were ever in a nuclear war. Actually, that was a great concern for a lot of people back in the fifties and early sixties. So he decided to build this great fallout shelter.”

“And we're going to hide in there?”

“No. We're going to leave the house this way. You see, the shelter also serves as a tunnel out of the basement. There's a passage that will take us all the way to the wooden shed that's down by the pond.”

Tommy clutched his grandmother's hand. “The bad man won't be able to get us?”

“That's right.”

Tommy moved into her arms and she gave him a fierce hug and a quick peck.

“Now let's hurry and get out of here.” She carefully felt her way up the stairs to the door and lowered the two wooden bars that barricaded it from the inside. “This should give us a little more time,” she whispered, then turned back down to lead her great-grandson to safety.

FBI Field Office
Memphis, Tennessee

Kennedy threw her arms around Max, surprised by the wave of relief that overwhelmed her the moment she saw him. “I can't believe you came.”

“You said that you needed me.” He folded his arms around her. “How are you holding up?”

“Lousy. It seems to be the theme of my life lately.” She gave a laugh that was nearly a sob. “That bastard has them locked in the basement.”

“Is he working by himself?” Max asked, astonished.

She pulled out of his embrace and wiped at her tears. “As far as we can tell—yes.”

Max's expression showed confusion. “Sounds a bit unusual for a gang leader, don't you think?”

She shrugged. “I suppose so. I haven't really given it much thought. Agent Mason says it should make it easier to rescue Tommy and Nana.” She studied Max's troubled expression. “What are you thinking?”

“Actually, I was wondering if this kidnapping is more like a vendetta or something.”

“With me?”

Max shrugged it off. “Maybe not. I don't know. Something just seems fishy about this whole thing.”

Kennedy lowered her gaze. The memory of her talk with Keenan in the park surfaced. Hadn't he mentioned her father? “Maybe you're onto something there.”

Their gazes met again.

“My father spent a lot of time pursuing Keenan and his gang in the latter part of his career. I'd say it wasn't far from the point of obsession.”

Max nodded, clearly deep in thought. “So maybe, just maybe, this has become more than just an op
portunity to eliminate a witness to the Underwood murder for Keenan. He could, quite possibly, still be trying to win some kind of war with your dad. What better way is there to do that than to destroy the man's family?”

“Okay, we have our mobile unit in place,” Agent Hagan informed them.

Kennedy nodded, knowing he referred to a surveillance vehicle disguised as a telephone-company van. “How close are they to the house?” she asked. Her grandmother's property was a good seven acres.

Hagan moved over to the table where a detailed map of the area was spread out. “The closest pole is here, which is approximately thirty to forty feet from your grandmother's property line.”

“How about sneaking onto the property down here?” Mason asked, pointing to the wooded area by the pond.

“We're already on that. Our second unit should be ready within the next few minutes.”

“Are you going with them?” Max and Kennedy asked in unison.

“Yes,” Mason answered.

“I'm coming with you,” Kennedy announced.

“There is no way I can authorize that,” Hagan said.

“I'm going, either with or without you,” she informed him with her chin lifted in determination.

Hagan matched her expression. “You'll be tampering with a federal investigation. I strongly advise that you reconsider.”

Kennedy lowered her gaze and hoped that her look of contrition appeared genuine but, secretly, she still had every intention to follow.

“You'll have to get up earlier if you plan to fool me,” Hagan admonished.

Kennedy abandoned her submissive act and once again met his direct gaze. “I'm going.”

The four-member circle grew silent, despite the intensity of the battle of wills between Hagan and Kennedy.

“You promise to stay out of the way?” Hagan asked, finally.

“Scout's honor.” She held up one hand in the scout's gesture.

Hagan's eyes narrowed. “I don't remember reading anything about you being a Girl Scout.”

Kennedy let her hand fall. “Don't get so technical.”

That finally won a smile from him, as well as his agreement. “All right. You can come.”

Kennedy smiled triumphantly.

“You just make sure that you stay out of the way.”

She looped one arm through Max's. “I promise that you won't even know that we're there.”

 

Keenan jerked open the refrigerator and peered inside to see if there was anything in there worth
drinking. “Milk, orange juice, cranberry juice.” He shook his head and slammed the door. What he wouldn't give for a beer right now.

Bored, he headed back into the living room. When he passed the phone, a sly smile curled his lips. He was willing to bet that Kennedy had never expected for him to outsmart her. He puffed out his chest with pride. He was actually going to pull this off.

Of course, he'd probably fallen out of Captain Vincent's good graces, but he was confident that could be remedied. His smile broadened as he continued to move toward the window.

Before he reached it, something nagged at him—something about the telephone call between Kennedy and her son. What was wrong about that phone call?

There was always the chance that she
had
gone to the police, he thought.

Keenan shook his head, sure she wouldn't risk her son's life that way. She knew what he was capable of.

But that didn't necessarily mean that she wouldn't try to call his bluff.

He turned and rushed back to the phone. He dialed star sixty-nine and was disappointed when the automatic operator informed him that the last call couldn't be traced.

He struggled to rein in the wild possibilities run
ning through his head. Slamming the phone down, he tried to calm down. “So, the number is untraceable, no big deal,” he said to himself.

But he couldn't help thinking, what if she did go to the police? Were they on the line when she called? Were they planning something? He suddenly had an uncontrollable urge to check on his two hostages. He rushed to the basement door and turned the key, but the door wouldn't budge.

He threw his weight against the door several times before it moved at all. “I'm going to get you for this,” he threatened. What in the hell had the old lady put in front of the door? he wondered wildly.

The telephone rang.

“The feds,” he mumbled under his breath. His assumption could easily be way off base, but he couldn't afford to think so. His anxiety renewed itself and he slammed into the barricaded door with more gusto.

Something cracked and then gave way. Keenan was suddenly airborne and plummeting down the flight of cement stairs. His body roared with pain while he struggled in vain to stop his fall. His head banged into something hard at the bottom of the stairs. A brilliant flash of stars danced before his eyes.

He groaned and struggled for what seemed like forever before he managed to stand. When he had succeeded, he remained so disoriented that he had to lean against a nearby wall for support.

The gun, he remembered, and looked around for it in the dim light from the doorway above. What had happened to his gun? He had holstered it before he started bashing the door, but there was no sign of it now. The phone had stopped ringing, too, he realized. He touched his head, not at all surprised to feel a thin trail of blood.

“I'm going to kill you for this,” he hissed, taking a step toward the stairs and immediately regretting it. He waited a few more seconds, hoping the feeling of vertigo would pass and he'd be able to actually trust his footing.

Despite his throbbing temples, Keenan was able to discern that he was at a disadvantage. He wouldn't put up with that for long.

As he started to move again, he kicked something and reached down. It was his gun. He smiled wickedly. The scale had just tipped back in his favor.

As he stood up again, he bumped into something hard and sharp. Why hadn't he checked the basement out more thoroughly before storming his hostages down here? he thought. The place seemed to be filled with sharp stuff. He halfway expected the old lady to jump out and attack with some rustic tool at any moment.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” he urged in a singsong voice. When he stopped and strained
to hear any signs of life, all he heard was the sound of his own labored breathing.

“I know that you're in here. You may as well come out now and make it easier on yourself.” Again, he waited, listening, and still there was no response. His anger escalated and his patience snapped.

“Fine, Granny. Suit yourself. I'm going to enjoy putting a bullet in the center of your head, and the little brat, too.” He laughed. “I only wish that your son were still alive to see me finally come out on top.”

The silence stretched. Something was definitely wrong.

FBI's Mobile Unit

Kennedy hung up the phone. “Something's wrong. He's not answering.”

“We just picked up the sound of a gunshot within the house,” said the FBI agent monitoring the van's listening devices.

Kennedy covered her heart with a trembling hand as she turned toward Max. “Gunshot?”

“I don't like this. It's like we're working with blinders on,” Mason said, a frown marring his features.

Hagan agreed. “Let's move in.”

“Wait!” Kennedy shouted, not at all comfortable with the speed at which everything was happening. “Is that wise? I mean—”

Max moved to her side and tried to console her. “Baby, let's let them do their jobs.”

Agents filed out of the van as if heading off to war.

The look in Kennedy's eyes grew wild as her emotions tumbled out of control. She wasn't prepared for this. Why were there gunshots?
Please, God, don't do this to me
.

Max gathered her into his arms. “It's going to be all right.”

“You don't know that,” she said, twisting away. “You don't know anything.”

Max flinched at her hurtful words, but accepted her rejection with an understanding heart. “You getting upset isn't going to help things,” he said reassuringly.

Kennedy clamped her mouth shut and nodded in agreement with his logic. When she returned his gaze again, it was with a brave smile. “I'm glad you're here.”

“Just think of me as your shelter from the storm,” he answered.

Kennedy went still.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.

“The shelter. Th-the fallout shelter.”

Max stared at her, dumbfounded.

She grabbed his arm. “There's an underground fallout shelter with a passage that leads to into the house basement. I had completely forgotten about it.”

T
ommy clutched his great-grandmother's hand as she led him farther into the dark tunnel. She'd sworn that they'd be safer down here; the problem was that he didn't feel safe. In fact, he couldn't remember ever being so scared in his life. He almost preferred to face the boogeyman that lived under his bed. Surely it couldn't be as bad as this.

“Maybe we should go back,” he suggested. His voice trembled as he edged closer to tears.

She didn't stop pulling him forward. “We're almost there,” she said.

Hadn't she said that before? He sniffed, then with his free hand wiped his eyes dry. The last thing he
wanted to admit was that he was scared—that would mean he was a 'fraidy cat. At least that was what Jimmy had always teased. Tommy took another worried glance over his shoulder. How could she be so sure that the bad man wasn't going to come after them?

 

Keenan scrambled around the basement, cursing the fact that the cramped quarters had very little lighting. But the harder he searched the angrier he got. They had to be down here somewhere. He double-checked all the windows. They were painted closed. Was there another way out of there?

His foot caught something hard and his body pitched forward, but he caught himself before landing face-first on the floor.

“What in the hell?” He turned and edged back toward what appeared to be a metal rod in the middle of the floor. “What in the hell is this?” The moment he voiced the question, the answer swirled inside his head.

“No, goddamn it.” He tugged on the rod only to have his suspicion confirmed. He muttered another stream of curses. How long had they been gone? Did it matter? He had to find them before it was too late.

He stared down into the dark tunnel and wondered where it led.
Well, there is only one way to find out
. Certain that he had no other alternative, he tucked away his gun and crawled down the cramped space.

 

Kennedy burst out of the FBI's mobile unit like a bat out of hell with Max close on her heel. When he finally caught up with her, he swung her around to face him.

“Where do you think you're going?”

“I'm going to save my son,” she shouted, then tried to pull away.

He shook his head. “Come on, Kennedy. You're not thinking. If you go out there alone, the only thing you're going to do is get yourself killed.”

She clamped her jaw shut and glared at him.

It took everything Max had not to shake some sense into the woman. In fact, he had to mentally count to ten before trying to reason with her again.

“The right thing to do is to go back in there and have one of the agents radio for Agent Hagan and Mason.”

Kennedy jerked out of his grip, determined to do things her way. “Fine. You call them. I'm going to see if I can find the entrance hatch.”

 

Agent Mason watched as Hagan and his men took their positions around the house when out of the corner of his eye he saw Kennedy and Max running toward the woods in the opposite direction.

What is she up to now?
he wondered. He took another glance at Hagan, but his curiosity returned to the couple racing off into the woods.

 

Keenan pried his way through thick cobwebs while periodically erupting into coughing fits. He may as well have crawled into a coffin, he assessed.

He stopped and allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness before plunging further into the unknown.

 

Kennedy scrambled around the pond, desperate to locate the entryway into the underground tunnel. “It's got to be around here somewhere,” she mumbled.

“I can't let you do this,” Max said.

“Maybe it's on the other side,” Kennedy said, ignoring him.

“Are you listening to me? There's a better way to do this, Kennedy.”

“Maybe you're right.” She raced over to the other side.

“What are you two doing up here?” Mason stepped from behind a small wooded area and into the clearing.

Max breathed a sigh of relief.

“There's a tunnel that leads into the basement,” Kennedy said, without stopping her search. “If only I could remember where.”

“Then we need to go back and tell Agent Hagan. He can get his men out here—”

“I found it.” Kennedy dropped to her knees and removed a large, square patch of fake grass to reveal an iron ringlet. “I can't believe it.”

Max rushed over to her.

Mason followed. “Wait, we have to call for backup.”

Kennedy grunted as she strained to open the latch.

Max laid his hand against her shoulder. “Baby, maybe he's right about this one.”

She ignored the men and lowered herself into the dark hole.

“Dammit,” Max and Mason swore in unison.

“Kennedy, wait,” Max called, then scrambled down after her.

Mason struggled with what he should do, then resolved himself to following Kennedy and Max.

Kennedy moved slowly through the dark tunnel with her hands stretched out before her. With any luck, maybe she could feel her way to the basement.

“Good Lord, what is that smell?” Max asked.

“If I were you, I wouldn't ask questions you really don't want to know the answer to,” Mason said as he pulled up the rear.

Kennedy smiled. “I'm happy you two decided to join me.”

“That makes one of us,” Max countered.

“Amen,” Mason agreed.

 

Alice couldn't figure out how to relock the latch from inside the fallout shelter.

“Maybe we can just stay in here.” Tommy glanced around and saw shelves packed with dusty canned
items. At least they had light in this room. He pivoted around again. The room was actually kind of neat.

“My great-grandpa built this thing?”

Alice smiled with pride. “He sure did.”

“Wow. He must have been real smart, huh?”

She nodded and then reached down to pinch his cheek. “I think I see a little bit of him in you.”

Tommy's smile widened. “Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

“Cool.”

“We better keep going. I can't figure out how to get this latch locked,” she said.

“Do we have to? It's dark out there.”

“I know, sweetheart, but we're not too far from the exit. We have to go call the police.”

“Are they going to put the bad man in jail?” he asked with hope in his voice.

“You bet they are.”

“Okay. Then let's go.”

Hand in hand, they started to move toward the opposite end of the shelter, but a loud screeching sound from the exit door stopped them.

Tommy jumped and hid behind his great-grandmother's leg while she swallowed a scream of terror.

 

Kennedy gave the steel door another push, and then yelped in alarm when she fell through to the other side.

“It's Mommy!” Tommy shouted, then sprinted over to his mother.

Kennedy exploded with relief. “Tommy!” Her arms opened in time to receive her son. “I'm so happy to see you.”

Alice breathed a sigh of relief. “I swear, Kennedy. My old heart can't take too much more excitement.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Alice, Kennedy and Tommy jumped at the sound of Keenan's voice, their hearts pounding at the sight of his gun.

Keenan's sly smile grew confident. “Don't tell me I just stumbled onto one of those mushy family reunions.”

Kennedy pushed Tommy behind her.

“I'm so happy you could join us, Kennedy. I was just beginning to think that you wouldn't be able to make it.”

“Please. Let them go. I'm the one you really want.”

“I'm sorry, but I can't do that,” Keenan answered with a firm shake of his head. “You know, it just occurred to me that you three are the last surviving members of Lieutenant St. James's family.”

“You're despicable,” Alice hissed.

Keenan swung his aim in the older woman's direction. “I think I'll do you first.”

“No!” Kennedy shouted, jumping to her feet.

Keenan's eyes widened as he swung the gun back in her direction and fired.

Max and Mason burst through the small portal door.

“Freeze!” they shouted in unison. Keenan, however, was unable to respond. His aim missed its mark as Kennedy hurled her small but determined body into him.

The gun flew out of Keenan's hand and landed without another discharge.

Kennedy pounded Keenan with her fist until she drew blood.

Alice raced to comfort Tommy.

Max raced over and pulled Kennedy off Keenan.

“It's a shame we had to stop her.” Mason holstered his gun and handcuffed a dazed Keenan.

“Especially when she's doing such a wonderful job.”

“Tell me about it.”

It took Max a while to calm Kennedy down. Even after they succeeded in getting everyone back up to the surface, her body continued to quake with anger and disbelief.

A medical team arrived to check on everyone. Afterward, Hagan's men asked a series of questions.

Max never left Kennedy's side. “Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?”

She shook her head and clung to the warmth and the security of his body. “No. I just want you to hold me.”

He obliged. “I think I can handle that,” he said.
As he held her, he couldn't help but wonder where they would go from here. He couldn't imagine not being involved in this courageous woman's life. He just hoped that she felt the same way.