Nowhere to Turn (2 page)

2:30 P.M.

Six months was long enough to recover from a gunshot wound and the betrayal of his uncle. At least that’s what he told himself. Adam Buchanan leaned back in his chair and stared out the window. A former US Marshal, he now worked for Operation Refuge, an organization founded by David and Summer Hackett. Adam liked his new job. He enjoyed protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves—and bringing down those who thought they were above the law.

Like his uncle. The man had been in the pocket of Alessandro Raimondi, the head of an organized crime family. Raimondi was now dead, as was Parker Holland, Adam’s uncle—thanks to Adam. Adam’s mother’s way of communicating was to shoot him wounded looks. His father had fallen into a depression.

“How you doing?”

Adam spun to face the door. Summer stood there, concern etched on her pretty face. Her right hand rested on the bulge that announced an impending birth.

“Hanging in there.” Adam gave a slight smile. “How are you?”

Summer grimaced, but her physical discomfort couldn’t hide her joy. “Ready to pop, I think.”

“How much longer?”

“Four weeks.”

“You going to make it?”

Summer laughed. “Guess we’ll see.”

Adam felt loneliness pierce him. All he’d ever wanted was a career as a marshal and a family of his own. He sighed. At thirty-three, the family part could still happen. He ignored the shaft of grief when he thought about his career. He stood. “I need a case.”

“You just finished one. Don’t you want to take a couple of days to regroup? Take care of any personal things?”

“No.” That was the last thing he wanted. When he was working, he didn’t dwell on his family situation. He could totally focus on his job and leave his personal troubles behind.

Summer frowned at him as though trying to read his thoughts. “All right. I’ll see what we have.”

They always had something. Adam relaxed a fraction, knowing he would soon be back in the swing of it. No more thinking about what he wanted and didn’t have. He’d found that helping others took his mind off the fact that he couldn’t seem to help his own family. Helping others was his therapy, the balm to his wounded soul. David and Summer’s faith had sparked Adam’s and he’d finally stopped blaming God for his parents’ decisions. They were both grown-ups and could make up their own minds. He wasn’t accountable for their choices, only for his own. If they chose to continue to blame him for his uncle’s death there was nothing Adam could do about it except pray. Which he found himself doing a lot. It helped some, but he couldn’t deny he really wanted a reconciliation with them. Maybe one day.

Simon Harding stared out the window, then glanced at the clock. School was almost over. Most days he wished he could just
stay there. He hated going home. The only good thing about home was his mother. And his video games. One more day of school and summer vacation would start. A ball formed in his gut at the thought. He hated the long breaks from school. He shifted and his hearing aid whistled. Simon pressed the mold more firmly into his ear and grimaced. He needed new molds, but his dad hadn’t said his mother could take him to get them yet.

But his dad would, because if he didn’t, people would talk. And if his dad thought someone would say something negative, he’d do anything to make sure that didn’t happen.

The teacher stomped on the wooden floor and the vibration jerked Simon back to the present. Mrs. Brown fit her name. Brown hair, brown eyes, brown personality. She signed, “Simon, are you with us today?”

A flippant answer came to mind, but he resisted. Getting in trouble wouldn’t be a good thing. He signed back, “Yes, ma’am.”

Her brown eyes softened at the respect. “Good, I’m glad to hear it. Would you please come work the math problem?”

Simon looked at the board for the first time since he’d walked into the classroom. And smiled. He rose from his desk and easily solved the algebra problem, explaining each step as he went. When finished, he dropped the dry erase marker in the tray and looked at Mrs. Brown. Once again, he’d managed to surprise her.

She’d given him the hardest problem and he’d done it almost without thinking about it. He knew what a lot of people thought, including teachers. Deaf kids weren’t supposed to be able to grasp some of the abstract concepts he’d mastered. Especially eleven-year-old deaf kids.

He glanced at the sea of faces before him. Confusion on a few. Resentment on others because he’d shown them up. Sheer boredom on most because the subject was above their heads. Only Mitchell Lee looked interested. And impressed. But Mitchell was
like Simon. He didn’t fit the mold hearing people had made for the deaf.

Simon took his seat and looked at the clock again. 2:45. As the minute hand ticked closer and closer to 3:15, his heart beat with the dread of going home.

Dani stepped back to let her brother-in-law in. He loomed over her, his big frame dwarfing the area. Stuart had always been nothing but kind to her. Gentle, sweet. But definitely creepy. She could just never get comfortable in his presence no matter how kind he acted. It was his eyes. They never matched his outward behavior. She said, “You know where the safe is.” Go, go. She shot a glance toward the door. Just a few feet away, freedom waited.

“I do.”

As soon as Stuart went for the safe—which he’d find empty—she’d have to grab the keys and race to the school to get Simon. A kink in her original plans to be sure, but she could do it. If he’d just go upstairs.

When he simply stared at her, she kept her face expressionless.
Play the game,
Dani. Do it!
On shaky legs, she moved toward the kitchen when all she wanted to do was race for the door. Stuart followed her and she ground her molars, grasping to control her runaway pulse and stuttering nerves. The seconds ticked away. And every second counted.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked because she knew he expected it. She always offered food and drink when he came over. The steadiness of her voice shocked her.

“No, thanks.” Stuart settled himself at one of the kitchen chairs, and while she wouldn’t have thought it possible, Dani felt her tension escalate. Her head beat with the stress of trying to figure out how to get rid of him without making him suspicious.

The clock crept toward 2:55. The school was ten minutes away. When Stuart found the safe empty, she couldn’t be here. Which meant she needed to leave now to get Simon before the dismissal bell. Otherwise her escape plan would be nothing but an epic fail. And it might even cost her and Simon their lives. “Can I get you anything?”

“No thanks, Dani, I’m fine. What time does Simon get home?”

“Around 3:30. Why?”

“Just thinking.” He paused. “You could have done better, Dani.”

His out-of-the-blue statement spoken ever so softly made her stare. “Done better?”

“I know Kurt doesn’t treat you right.” He stood and stepped toward her.

Dani took a step back as her pulse ratcheted up several notches. If this continued she would self-combust.

She forced a laugh. It came out more like a nervous titter. “What? I don’t know what you mean.”

Stuart’s jaw tightened then he gave a short laugh. “Sure you do, but—Forget I said anything.” He walked toward the steps. “I’ll just get what I came for and be on my way.”

A little breath of relief puffed between her lips. “Okay, you do that.”

Dani waited, listening. As soon as he disappeared around the corner, she raced through the laundry room and into the garage.

She climbed into the Navigator and reached for the keys she’d swiped from the hook just inside the back door that led to the garage.

But wait. She froze. Stuart’s car. He’d know exactly where she would go from here. He knew she’d never leave Simon. And he would follow. She went out the door that led to the driveway and hurried over to Stuart’s vehicle, opened the driver’s door, and popped the hood. Seconds continued to pass at a disturbingly rapid rate. Did he have the safe open yet? Had he discovered her theft?

Almost sobbing with her desperation, she reached under the hood and yanked whatever wires she could get her hands on. One of them came loose. She hoped it was enough to stall him. She raced back into the garage and stopped just before she got into the Navigator. Her purse! She’d left it on the counter. She ran back into the house.

“Dani?” She froze as his voice filtered downstairs from her master bedroom. “Hey! Where’s the stuff from the safe? Is this one of Kurt’s stupid practical jokes?”

She snatched her purse from the counter and bolted back to the garage, closing the door behind her as quietly as she could. She climbed into the Navigator, and reached to start the car.

“The key! Where’s the key?” she whispered, panting, blood humming, nerves so tight she thought she might throw up. She looked down at the cupholder and nearly sobbed with relief as she pulled the key out, jammed it into the ignition, and started the car.

The dash clock said 3:02. Stuart would be looking for her any second. She pressed the button to open the garage door and put the car in reverse. “Please . . . please . . .”

The garage door opened behind her as did the door leading from the house. Stuart’s face appeared and he lunged for the car door. Heart pounding, tears threatening, Dani slapped the lock button and pressed the gas pedal.

“Dani! Stop! What are you doing? Where’s the stuff in the safe? Dani! Kurt’s going to kill you!”

She ignored him, desperation fueling her. Dani backed out of the garage, tires squealing as she pressed the brake and threw it into drive. Within seconds, she arrived at the exit to the subdivision. In the rearview mirror she could see Stuart in the street, watching her. She knew he would head straight to the school once he got his car started. And she knew he would be on the phone to Kurt as soon as he could punch in the numbers.

Dani pulled out of the subdivision and into the median, waiting impatiently to merge with the traffic. Finally an opening. She shot into the opening and drove fast, weaving in and out of the traffic, but not so fast she’d get a ticket. As desperate as she was to get to the school, she simply couldn’t afford to get stopped. She’d gotten her driver’s license renewed online on a trip to the library two months ago. Kurt had been out of town for something and she’d accepted Jenny’s offer to take them on the little outing.

Dear, sweet Jenny. But even Jenny didn’t know everything. Dani finally turned into the school parking lot. Cars already waited in line. She bypassed them straight to an empty spot near the office. Simon was deaf, but he was mainstreamed into the regular education classroom. He had an interpreter that followed him from class to class. And two of his teachers signed. He liked school, but Dani knew he was bored with it.

She parked and raced into the building. At the office, she waited impatiently while the secretary helped a man in front of her. The bell would ring in three minutes. She waited, praying she’d pulled enough wires to stall Stuart long enough for her to get away. She wondered if he’d called Kurt. Her stomach cramped.

Two minutes. Dani stepped up. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we have a family emergency. Could you please buzz Simon’s teacher and have him come to the office?”

“We don’t allow early dismissals after 2:00, Mrs. Harding.”

The lady looked like she wished she could help. Dani jumped on that. “Please! I’ve got to get him now! It’s an emergency. A family crisis and I need to go. I have to catch him before he rides home with his friend.” She knew she was begging, but Dani would have gotten on her knees if she thought it would help get her son. Because she sure wasn’t leaving without him.
Please,
God!

“Come on, it’s an emergency.” The deep voice of the man she’d interrupted. Dani shot him a grateful look.

Again with the hesitation that had Dani ready to climb out of her skin. Then a faint nod. “Let me see if I can catch him.”

Only a partial relief filled her. She hoped Simon would tell Mitchell he wasn’t riding home, but frankly she didn’t care, she just wanted to leave. Now.

The bell rang as the woman picked up the phone and Dani sucked in a deep breath. The secretary spoke, but the blood whooshing through her veins kept her from hearing what she said.
Please, God, oh please . . .