Cut & Run (21 page)

“You have to come alone and you only have a few hours before Mallory is taken away again, so you have to hurry. No police, no FBI, or you will never find her. Understand?”

“Yes,” Rachel said. As the caller clicked off, Rachel realized she had an important decision to make. Red was inside the airport terminal waiting for her.

Without stopping to think, Rachel plugged the Atlanta address into the car’s GPS unit. It would take her about eight hours to drive there. She quickly used her cell phone to check the flights to Atlanta from the New Orleans airport. The next flight wasn’t for another four hours, and that was if she could get on. And if she went into the airport terminal, she would have to explain to Red that she was catching a different flight to a different city, and he would demand an explanation. He would talk her out of going or insist on going with her. The woman said to go alone. She had to wonder if this was a ploy of Scotty’s. Did he put someone up to calling her? Sending Rachel on a wild-goose chase? Rachel shook
those thoughts from her mind. She remembered Verdene’s advice about trusting her instincts. And her instincts said to go for it.

The rental car attendant was approaching her car. The young man looked confused as she closed the door and started up the engine. Rachel quickly tore off another piece of paper and hastily wrote a note, folding a fifty-dollar bill around it. Rolling down her window, she handed it to the attendant.

Reading his name tag, she addressed him by name. “Shelton, change of plans. I’ve got to drive to Atlanta. I’ll drop the car off at the airport there instead. I need you to give this note to my associate, who will be waiting for me at the Delta check-in terminal. His name is Red Cooper.” She gave the attendant a description of Red. She knew Red would be pissed. Rachel hoped he would forgive her once she called him later and explained.

With a deep breath, she rolled up the window and sped off toward Atlanta. This she had to do alone.

R
achel felt anxious as she willed the car to go faster. She’d just passed a state welcome sign:
Welcome. We’re Glad Georgia’s on Your Mind.
The blue sign had a peach on it. Rachel held her breath as she realized that on her last visit with Verdene, the voodoo queen had mentioned peaches. Mallory could be found near peaches. Rachel pushed her foot firmly down on the gas.

Traffic was starting to get heavy just south of downtown. By the GPS calculations, she was thirty-five miles away from Alpharetta. A mere thirty or forty minutes away from her baby. Her baby that was stolen from her. Once she had Mallory back, she would never let her daughter leave her sight again. She wondered about the family that had Mallory. Were they good to her? Did they provide her with everything she needed? A lump formed in her throat when she thought of Mallory calling someone else Mommy. Then she had an even scarier thought hit her, one that she had never even conceived: Would Mallory want to leave the family she was with now? She would be almost nine years old now. What if she had grown attached to them? Did she have brothers and sisters? Would Mallory even remember her? Rachel thought of the one picture she carried everywhere, of her and Mallory at the
beach. It was hardly a strong case for the past. Rachel wondered if she should call Janine and ask her to send the photo album she kept in her office. It was filled with pictures of her, Mallory, and Rick. Baby pictures, first-step pictures, birthday party pictures. It would be proof for Mallory that she already had a mother. A mother who had never stopped looking for her since the day of her disappearance.

Rachel’s thoughts turned back to the conversation she’d had with Red after she left him stranded at the airport. She was right. He was pissed. But after explaining the situation, Rachel got him to promise not to involve the police until she got to Atlanta and had a chance to find out what was going on. Rachel gave Red the address she was going to. He started a background check on the people who owned the house. The property records indicated it belonged to a couple named Jason and Sherri Trovare.

According to the background search, Jason was in pharmaceutical sales and traveled frequently. Sherri was an elementary schoolteacher. How in the world did they afford to pay for an exorbitant illegal adoption? Rachel wondered. Even if they had a combined six-figure income, which was unlikely, it seemed impossible. Legal adoption fees can run up to a hundred grand. She couldn’t imagine how much an illegal adoption would cost. Maybe the Trovares had family money or an inheritance. Red told her that they lived in a nice area north of Atlanta. Good school district, fancy neighborhoods, upscale shopping and dining. She checked her GPS unit again. The nerves in her stomach were fluttering out of control. Fifteen miles to her exit. Traffic was slowing down considerably, and she had to force herself to slow down and pay attention to the crazy drivers weaving in and out of traffic.

Her cell phone rang, and she pushed the talk button without looking to check the caller ID.

“Hey, Rach. It’s Red. Where are you?”

“I’m a few miles away from the Alpharetta exit.”

“I can have the police meet you there, Rachel. It’s probably…”

Rachel cut him off. “I’ve already told you I need to go alone, Red. I don’t want the police to scare them off. I want the opportunity to talk to them before we involve the police.”

“Okay. I just wish you had someone with you. I hate to imagine you walking into this alone.”

“I’m hoping the husband will be at work and I can talk one-on-one with the wife. I want to know that Mallory is safe, first and foremost.”

“Then call me when you get to the house. I’ll give you fifteen minutes to talk to Mrs. Trovare before I call the cops.”

“Make it thirty. I’m not going to leave that house without my daughter.” She heard Red sigh on the other end.

“Okay. But you call me as soon as you are in front of their house.”

“You got it. I’m about twenty minutes away. Call you back in a bit.” Rachel hung up. She wished she had someone with her, too. Someone that had her back, like Red or Stacy. Or even Mike. She tried to think of the many ways the scenario could occur. Even though this couple adopted her baby illegally, she was aware that Sherri Trovare was probably not going to let her walk away with Mallory without a fight. As far as Rachel knew, Sherri Trovare probably thought this adoption was legal. She wondered what the Trovares had been told about Mallory’s real parents—her and Rick. It is unusual to adopt a child over the age of one. Why would someone want a child who was already a toddler? Most people adopted newborn babies. Of course, if you are desperate…

Rachel slowed down as she noticed her exit coming up. She took the ramp off the interstate and turned right at the light, following the instructions of the voice-activated GPS system. Now she was only two miles away from her baby.

Her sweaty palms gripped the steering wheel as she thought about what she was going to say to Sherri Trovare when she came to the door. The last thing Rachel wanted was to get a door slammed in her face. She needed to get in the front door. Sit down and talk
to this lady. See for herself that Mallory was there. Rachel glanced at the clock. It was almost three thirty. Most likely Mallory would be home from school. Rachel decided that she would go for the truth. She would tell Mrs. Trovare that she worked for Florida Omni Search and that Mallory had been missing for almost six years. That they had a lead that suggested Mallory was living with them. She would initially withhold the information that Mallory was her daughter. Rachel didn’t want Mrs. Trovare to feel threatened. By the time Rachel had a chance to talk to her and hopefully see for herself that Mallory was indeed in the house, Red would have called the local police. Within a couple of hours, Rachel could be going home with her little girl. Waves of excitement pulsated through her.

The sign for Avondale Estates was on her left. She made the turn and found the Trovares’ house within seconds. They lived at the end of a cul-de-sac. A two-story redbrick home with black shutters surrounded by a neatly trimmed lawn sat on top of a small hill. Rachel parked on the street, next to the mailbox. She noted a lone gray SUV parked at the top of the long driveway. Before she stepped out of the car, she called Red as promised and told him she was on her way up to the house.

“Good luck. Be careful. If I don’t hear from you within thirty minutes, I’m calling the police.” He repeated their plan again.

“You got it.” She hung up before he could talk her out of it and tucked her cell phone in her pocket. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out the photograph of Mallory. She kissed the picture for good luck and then put it in the zippered side pocket. Her breath quickened as she got out of the car and walked with anticipation toward the house. As she took the steps to the front door, she flashed on an image of Matt O’Malley on the couch with his children at the lake house, as he’d touched their faces and cried with joy as he hugged each of them in turn. Rachel wondered if her reunion with Mallory would have the same outcome. Would Mallory run to her mother, hug her tight, and cry joyful tears?
Or would she be shy, not remembering Rachel, and hang on Mrs. Trovare’s leg, scared to go near her? Rachel didn’t think she could bear her daughter not remembering her. Whatever the outcome, Rachel was here now. There was no turning back.

She stepped forward and rang the doorbell.

I
have always loved New Orleans and have visited many times since I was a young girl. So it was only natural for me to want to use New Orleans as the setting in this Rachel Scott book and to incorporate all the wonderful things the city has to offer. I tried to stay true to the city by mentioning several landmarks and restaurants that exist there. Some places, like Madame Verdene’s Voodoo Shop, are fictional though. If you have never been to the Big Easy, I suggest you visit really soon!

A big thank you to my first readers, Shirley Satterfield, Chase Satterfield, Michelle Couch, Bud Satterfield and Mark Weinberg. Your valuable input is always helpful and much welcome!

Also, many thanks to the amazing editorial team at Thomas & Mercer for all your support and guidance.

Thank you to the real Stacy Case, Michelle Couch, June Hollis, and Cyndy Krapek for lending your names to my characters. You are forever immortalized.

Thank you to my family, for your unconditional love and patience, while I work long and crazy hours writing these books. I love you guys.

And lastly, a big thanks to my readers and street team members. You are the reason why I write. Thank you for inspiring me every day.

Photograph by Sherri Butler, 2011

B
orn in Moultrie, Georgia, Traci Hohenstein has lived all over the United States, including California, Hawaii, and Mississippi. Her extensive educational background spans a wide variety of studies, and a concentration in journalism heralded a career in writing for various media outlets on local and national levels. Drawing inspiration from the sensational 2005 disappearance of Natalee Holloway, Hohenstein set out to create a series that explores the enigma of missing-persons investigations. She launched the suspenseful Rachel Scott Adventures series with
Burn Out
and
Asylum Harbor,
and now continues the saga with her third entry,
Cut and Run.

Hohenstein currently resides in Florida with her husband and three children. When she’s not writing, she enjoys the simple pleasures of the beach—swimming, soaking up the sun, and spending time with her friends and family.