Heart of the Night (7 page)

“Savannah?” He stopped short when she looked back at him. “I told you about the alarm system because I want you to know the truth. If anyone can help me get Meggie back, you can.”

Savannah was not a genius or a miracle worker, and she resented his placing the bulk of the burden for Megan's return on her shoulders. But when she opened her mouth to argue, he rushed on.

“There are two other things you should know.” He paused, looking faraway and very disturbed for a minute. When he spoke again, there was a faint tremor in his voice. “I know that I sometimes give the impression of being one-dimensional, but I'm not as dumb as people think. I don't know what to do to save my business, but I do know enough to worry about it.” He paused again, then, as though realizing that the faster he did this the better, he continued. “I take sleeping pills. That's why I sleep soundly. It's a legitimate prescription given by my doctor. I can show you the bottle. You can check it out. But there's no point in your wondering why I didn't hear anything last night. I never hear anything at night. I'm totally out of it.”

“Oh, Will,” she murmured sympathetically, but he was intent on finishing what he had begun.

“The other thing is that Megan's gun is gone.”

She felt herself pale. “Gun?”

“I've always been worried about her safety. For the same reason that I took out insurance against kidnapping, I bought her a gun to keep in her nightstand. It's a small thing. I've looked all over for it, but it's not here. She must have taken it downstairs with her.”

“Would she have heard the glass break and
then
gone downstairs?” Savannah shook her head, answering the question herself. “No. Meggie wouldn't be that dumb. She'd have woken you, or called the police.”

“I figured that, too. I think she just took the gun with her when she went down to read. Maybe she's been doing it ever since the alarm system broke. Maybe she had a premonition.” He ran a weary hand around the back of his neck. “Christ, I just don't know!”

Savannah was thinking of the reason why she had never wanted to carry a gun herself. God only knew, she had cause. She had sent some violent men to prison, and more than once, in a courtroom confrontation, she had been threatened. But she had always figured that a violent man would have the gun out of her hand and aimed at her before she could muster the wherewithal to pull the trigger.

She feared for Megan.

“I think,” she said quietly, “that I'd like to share this with Sammy.” Without another word, she went into the library, closing the door behind her and leaning back against the wood.

Hank spared her a quick glance. “We're almost ready to ship the first of this to the lab.”

Sam looked at her for a minute, then stood and came to her side. “Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“You look pale.”

“My blusher must be fading,” she said softly, then, “Sammy, there's a gun involved. Megan had a small pistol with her. She usually kept it in her nightstand, but Will says it's gone. I assume she brought it down here, and if so, she may have tried to use it when the kidnappers broke in. Have you found any evidence”—she sent a glance toward Hank, who had also straightened and was listening—“of a gun having been fired in this room?”

Sam, too, shot a glance at Hank, then looked back at Savannah. “Damn good thing I've got a change of clothes in my duffel. It could take a good long time to inch along every one of these bookshelves looking for a bullet hole. Why couldn't the damn walls have been covered with white plaster?”

Savannah looked at the ceiling, then shook her head, squeezed her eyes shut, and spoke through gritted teeth. “This case sucks shit.”

Hank shushed her. “Ladies don't talk that way.”

She opened her eyes. “Right now, I'm no lady. I'm a prosecutor investigating a case that I shouldn't be investigating in the first place, because I have a personal involvement in it.” She held up her hand. “And as far as my language goes, whatever I know,” her gaze took in both detectives, “I've learned from you.” Swinging around, she left the room.

No sooner had she passed through the living room when the doorbell rang. She continued on into the vestibule and peered around the edge of the gathered sheer. The woman who stood on the front step, her head wrapped in auburn curls and her body in silver fox, was a welcome sight. Savannah quickly opened the door.

“I don't believe this,” Susan said and hurried in past her sister. “I've been trying to grasp it since you called.” Her voice was low and urgent. “Poor Meggie. Poor
Will.
Has anything happened? Anyone called?”

Closing the door, Savannah shook her head. “Will is waiting in the kitchen. He doesn't know what to do with himself, and there really isn't much he can do but wait.” Belatedly, she wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulder and gave her a quick hug, then reached to relieve her of the large overnight bag she'd brought. “Thanks for coming. I can't handle this myself, and Will shouldn't be left alone.”

Susan regarded her with a mixture of annoyance and nervousness. “I'm not sure I was the best one to call.”

“I am,” Savannah countered.

“I don't do well under pressure.”

“You'll do fine.”

“Will needs someone to give him strength.”

“You can do that. You're Megan's friend.”

“What does one have to do with the other?”

“Dedication,” Savannah said. Dropping her voice, she urged Susan down onto the vestibule bench. “When was the last time you talked with Megan?”

“Last week.”

“Did she say anything odd?”

“No,” Susan said. She began unbuttoning the fur jacket. “But she didn't look great. I think she and Will are having problems.”

“What made you think that?”

“We'd be talking, and suddenly she'd say things like, ‘Why is life so hard?' or ‘I'm tired of fighting.' I mean, as statements went, they were in context with the rest of the conversation, but somehow I knew she really meant it. You know Meggie; she spent most of her life struggling to break even. She thought that was over when she married Will … What happened?”

The question was almost rhetorical, but Savannah needed to talk as much as her sister needed to listen. Savannah, Megan, and Susan had been a tight trio for years. Though Savannah's career had distanced her somewhat, the emotional bond between the three remained. For that reason, Savannah had no qualms about betraying what would, in other circumstances, have been a confidence. Moreover, she had called Susan for a reason, and if she expected her to be of help, Susan had to know the score.

“Money,” she said very quietly. “The business is failing.”

Susan didn't seem at all surprised. “Then the talk is right.”

“Talk?”

“Gossip. It's my specialty, Savvy. You know that. I may not be good for much else, but I do know the latest rumors.”

“And the one about the Vandermeers—”

“—says that Will is slowly but surely running the business into the ground.”

Savannah was silent for a minute before finally admitting, “Harshly put, but basically true. To use Will's own words, this kidnapping couldn't have come at a worse time.” She looked up just as Will approached and raised her voice. “I was just filling Susan in on what's happening.”

Susan stood and quickly went to brush her cheek to his. Lightly grasping his arms, she said, “How're you doing, Will?”

“I've been better.”

“Meggie will be fine. You have to believe that. She'll be fine.”

He said nothing.

Uncomfortable with the silence, Susan hurried to fill the void. “Savannah and her crew are the best. If anyone can foil this thing, they can.”

“I wish they'd make their move,” he said. “The waiting is unbearable.”

Savannah rose to join her sister. “It could be a while longer,” she warned. “They'll pick their own time.”

Susan, who had assumed from what Savannah told her on the phone that she would be back in her own home by the next day, eyed her sister with caution. In a deceptively light tone, she asked, “How much time? What's the range for kidnappings?”

“It could be a day, a week, or more,” Savannah said. She had answered honestly, but the immediate winces from both Will and Susan made her soften the blow. “Actually, in a state this size, it will probably be less than more.”

“Why is that?” Susan asked with an indignance that covered up her growing fear. She sensed she had been snookered into something more extensive than she had originally thought.

“Because there's less room to hide.”

“What if they leave the state?”

“I doubt they will. They'll want to stay close for the sake of phone calls and ransom pickups. In an area like this, which can be pretty well canvased, the longer they hold her, the better our chances of finding them. They'll want to get their money and run.”

“We hope,” Will murmured.

“Damn right, we do,” Susan drawled. Catching a look from Savannah, she added a quick, “But I'll be here as long as you need me.” Then she paused and said more drolly, “Of course, you may have second thoughts after a day. I'm a lousy cook.” When Will didn't crack a smile, she said, “And I'm a worse housekeeper than Meggie.” Still no smile. She looked at Savannah and muttered, “This isn't my day.” Hoisting her overnight bag to her shoulder, she walked to the staircase, dropped the bag, and headed toward the dining room liquor cabinet.

C
HAPTER
4

“Suse,” Savannah said softly as she came up from behind.

Susan didn't turn. Looking tense but elegant with her shoulders straight beneath the fox fur, she continued to pour her drink. “I need some backbone, Savannah. I'm not as used to situations like this as you are.” Without capping the bottle, she tipped the glass to her lips.

“I'm not used to situations like this, either,” Savannah said. “I've only worked on one other kidnapping, and the victim in that case was a total stranger. I'm emotionally involved here, which complicates things. But I still have to function, and I need a clear mind for that.” She paused for a breath. “I need you to function with me.”

Susan sighed in relief as the liquid hit her stomach. “There. Better.”

“How can it be better, when it hasn't reached your bloodstream yet?”

“Just knowing it's getting there makes it better. Believe me.” Susan took the offensive before Savannah could harp on her drinking. “What have you gotten me into? When you called on the phone, you told me everything was under control.”

“I told you Megan had been kidnapped.”

“And that Will had a note, that he was going to pay, that everything was going to be all right, but that he just needed someone with him in the house for a day. Now you tell me that no one's called, that Will doesn't have the money, that this could go on for a while.” Her jaw was set. “I told you that I don't do well under pressure.”

“You'll do fine if you set your mind to it. I need you. Will needs you. Megan needs you. All we're asking is that you stay here and be calm. You can do that, Susan.”

With a brittle laugh, Susan took another swallow of her drink. “You never change. It's incredible. The eternal optimist. You were that way when we were kids, and you're still that way. I'd have thought you'd be jaded by now. You see the darkest side of life day in, day out, and still you expect the best of people.”

“What's my alternative?”

“Being realistic. Some people have limitations that you don't have.”

“I have limitations. I fight them, that's all.”

“Well, some of us can't fight them. Maybe if you'd accept that, the rest of us could relax.”

Savannah was stung by that. “Are you saying that I make you feel tense?”

“Tense? No. Inadequate is more like it. You hoodwinked me into coming over here, and now I'm stuck feeling useless.” She glanced toward the hall. Will had long since disappeared. Not knowing how far he had gone, she kept her voice low, but there was desperation in her tone. “What am I supposed to do here, Savvy? I love Megan, but I've always felt a little odd with Will. I can't sit and hold his hand. He wouldn't want that any more than I do.”

“You can talk to him.”

“Sure. Like I did out there? He wasn't listening to me then. What makes you think he'll listen another time?”

“He doesn't have to listen. That's the point, Suse. He needs someone with him. As time passes without word from Megan, he'll get more and more uptight.”

“Swell.”

“Talk to him. Reassure him that we're doing what we can, that the kidnappers want the money more than they want Megan, that she'll be back. Just talk. You're good at that.”

“A cocktail party this isn't,” Susan remarked and took another swallow of scotch.

“Could've fooled me,” Savannah muttered.

“I heard that.”

“You were meant to.” She reached for the glass. “You don't need the drink, Susan.”

But Susan wasn't letting go. “You're asking me to say sweet nothings at a time like this? Believe me, I need the drink.”

Savannah didn't want to get into a full-fledged fight just then. “Okay,” she said. “Have that one drink, but just one. Because I do need you clearheaded. I need you to try to learn more from Will about the situation here than he's told me. I need to know about anything odd that may have happened around here in the last few weeks. He couldn't think of anything when I asked, but something may occur to him with a little prodding.”

Facing her sister, Susan remembered all the times over the years when Savannah had given out assignments. She was a natural at people management. “So I'm supposed to sit and prod?”