Special Forces Father (17 page)

“Okay,” he muttered in a subdued voice.

“I’m right here,” she whispered, tapping the side of the can with her knuckles as she maneuvered herself into position in front of the can and held on to her toilet-tissue shield. That put three layers between any bullet Shirley could fire and Max. Dear God, she hoped that would be enough.

Chapter Eleven

Within moments, she heard muffled footsteps. It had to be Shirley, because she hadn’t heard a car. Where was Lucas? Kate crouched behind the flimsy toilet-tissue shield.

“Mommy?” Max’s small voice ripped into her heart.

“Hey, sweetie,” she whispered, reaching around to tap on the can. “Guess what this song is.” She tapped out the alphabet song. He didn’t
answer. “Okay, Maxie, listen.” She sang softly.
“A B C D, E F G...H I J K, L M N O P.”

“I’m scared, Mommy,” he whined. “Put on a night-light for me.”

She had to hold her breath to keep from sobbing out loud as the sound of footsteps on gravel got louder. “Can’t right now, Maxie. The bad guys are looking for us. If we want to—” She stopped.
Stay alive.
She couldn’t say that to her little
boy. “If we want to win, we have to be quiet. Okay?” She tapped quietly on the can and heard his small fingers tapping back.

“El-um-ino-pee,” he sang quietly.

“You’re so brave, Max,” she muttered brokenly. “Just like your daddy.”

The crunching footsteps stopped. Kate couldn’t tell exactly where the person was, but she knew they were close. Was it Shirley? Was it Lucas? Drawing herself
into the smallest ball she could, she held the pack of toilet tissue in front of her and ducked her head.

“Mommy?” Max whimpered quietly. “Too dark, Mommy.”

Kate reached behind her and tapped out the “Alphabet Song” on the can and sang in a whisper.

Then she heard the footsteps moving again—closer. They stopped right in front of the door. Kate bit her lip and made herself as small
as possible as the knob turned, then rattled.

“Damn it to hell,” a muffled voice spat. It was Shirley. An involuntary whimper escaped Kate’s throat. She swallowed and held her breath. The knob rattled again, harder. Shirley spewed more curses.

Then—a gunshot split the air. A shock like a lightning strike crackled through Kate’s body and she yelped. Behind her, Max let out a squeal, then
started sobbing. It took her a few fractions of a second to realize she hadn’t been shot. A piece of metal fell onto the floor and rolled bumpily.

The doorknob! The woman had shot the lock. Kate waited, holding her breath, as the bathroom door swung open.

Then, in the distance, more footsteps. Heavy ones.

“Stop!” a male voice ordered. “Stop right there. Police!”

Kate’s heart
thumped so hard it hurt. Her scalp tightened and her face flushed with adrenaline.

“Son of a—” Shirley growled. Kate could see her through the partially opened door. She pushed the door wide open.

“Ma’am, stop! Don’t move!” the policeman shouted. “Drop the gun. Drop it! Now!”

“Mah-mee!” Max cried out behind Kate.

“Drop the gun!” The voice was getting closer. “Drop it now or
I’ll shoot! Ma’am! Drop it! Drop. It. Now!”

Shirley shot a glance behind her and met Kate’s gaze. The woman’s eyes were narrowed, calculating. Kate cringed. If she wanted to, Shirley could shoot her.

Then the policeman’s shadow fell on Shirley and he had her gun—that quickly. “Now, down on the ground,” the cop yelled. “Get down!”

Shirley dropped to the ground in front of the bathroom
door. She spread her legs and arms and lay still.

Kate stayed frozen in place, as she watched the cop handcuffing Shirley, dragging her to her feet and hauling her away.

She wondered what she should do now. The policeman had Shirley. It should be safe to come out. But Travis had given her explicit instructions. She was to wait until she knew it was Lucas.

A shadow crossed the doorway
again and a knock sounded on the door facing. Kate started and gasped.

“Mommy? Is that the bad guys?” Max cried.

“Dr. Chalmet?” The man stepped into the doorway and paused. Kate stared at him. He was a big man. Tall and broad shouldered, with dark hair. He had a long black rifle in his arms and was dressed in black with what looked like a bulletproof vest across his chest. He didn’t
exactly look like Travis, but there was a resemblance, in the planes of his face, in his carriage.

“Dr. Chalmet?” he said gently. “I’m Lucas Delancey. Travis’s brother. Are you and the boy okay?”

“Oh,” she sobbed. “Ye-yes. Yes!” Unwrapping herself from the cramped position, she stood and looked down into the metal trash can. Big dark brown eyes were looking up at her trustingly.

“Come on, Maxie, honey,” she said as tears streamed down her face. “The good guys won.”

Picking him up, feeling his arms wrap around her neck and his legs circle her waist, she could no longer hold back. She burst into tears.

Behind her, Lucas said, “Is there anything I can do? I can hold him for a minute if you want. Are either of you injured?”

She shook her head, trying to get
her sobs under control. She had her nose buried in Max’s hair. Sniffling, she lifted her head. “We’re fine. Where’s Travis?” she asked.

“I haven’t heard anything from Reilly, which is a good sign,” he said.

“I heard a gunshot inside the trailer while we were running away.”

Lucas was still studying her. “Are you sure you’re all right? Your feet are bleeding and you’re covered with
scratches,” he said. “Come on. Let’s put you in the front seat of the car. We’re going to have to go to the local police station. I’ve got to deliver my unexpected prisoner there.” He gestured. “I guess you know who she is.” He gestured toward a black car. Shirley was in the backseat, her hands cuffed behind her, looking sullen.

“Her name’s Shirley. She’s the kidnapper’s girlfriend,” Kate
said. “But I don’t understand. What was she doing? She shot the lock off the bathroom door. She could have shot us or taken us hostage but all she did was look at me.”

Lucas shrugged. “I don’t think she realized y’all were in there. I think she wanted to use the bathroom as a hiding place for herself.” He opened the passenger door.

“This is false arrest!” Shirley cried as soon as the
door was open. “You’re going to be in big trouble for assaulting me. I got rights.”

Lucas stuck his head in. “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to tape your mouth. Got that right,” he said conversationally.

Shirley spewed a few choice words then went silent.

Kate climbed into the passenger seat awkwardly, still holding Max. “Maxie, honey. Let go of my neck. We’re just fine. Sit on
my lap, sweetie.” He wiggled, but he was too sleepy to do anything but whimper.

Lucas got into the driver’s side of the car. “The station’s not far. Put your seat belt on and hold on to Max. I’ll drive slowly.” He started the car and drove out of the gas station parking lot and onto the road. The sky was beginning to turn pink and blue and there was a fresh morning smell to the air.

“I’ve got to warn you,” he said. “I know it’s been a long, frightening night for you and Max, but I’m afraid your ordeal isn’t over. The local cops have no idea what’s been going on. So, be prepared, because you’re going to have a long, harrowing day.”

“I’ve been through the longest, most awful five days of my life. But I have my son back now. Believe me, compared to what we’ve been through,
this day will be a picnic.” She got the seat belt fastened and wrapped her arms around Max. He was asleep, for which she was grateful.

Lucas’s cell phone rang.

“Please,” Kate said quickly. “Ask about Travis.”

A snort sounded from the backseat. “Travis. That your boyfriend’s name?” Shirley said. “Good luck, ’cause last I saw of him, he was lying in a puddle of his own blood outside
that window. Bent shot him.”

* * *

W
ITHIN
THE
EIGHT
minutes it took to get to the St. John’s Parish Sheriff’s Department, Lucas had gotten in touch with Ryker, who told him that Reilly and his men had taken Bentley Woods into custody and had rushed Travis to River Parishes Hospital, less than two miles from the sheriff’s office. Kate was relieved that he was at the hospital, but it worried
her that nobody had any word about his condition.

She watched as Lucas patiently explained the whole situation to the sergeant in charge on the midnight shift, who stared at him drowsily. Once Lucas had finished, the sergeant looked at him blankly for a second, then told him he needed to talk to the sheriff.

Because she had Max, Kate was allowed to wait in the break room, which had an
old leather couch in it. She got Max settled down on the couch with a blanket over him and his little wooden car clutched in his hands. Then she crossed to the counter where a coffeepot sat, it’s On light beckoning her. The coffee didn’t smell great, but she poured herself a cup anyhow. It wasn’t the coffee’s taste she was after, it was the caffeine. She didn’t want to fall asleep because she knew
if she did, she’d feel lousy when she woke up. She figured it would be better to stay awake.

* * *

S
HE
’
D
LEARNED
A
lot listening to Lucas’s recounting of the situation to the sergeant. Travis had told her that Dawson and his computer whiz kid were working on a way to pinpoint the exact location of the kidnappers through his cell phone. She knew that they’d only had one chance, because
as soon as Bentley Woods answered his phone and realized the caller wasn’t who he was expecting, he’d hang up. She hadn’t known that Travis had found Woods’s phone number in Congressman Whitley’s phone. That meant Whitley was a party to the kidnapping.

Lucas also told the sergeant that Stamps was apparently unaware of the kidnapping scheme aimed at saving him from a felony conviction, but
that there was suspicion, if not actual evidence, that Darby Sills was involved.

The sergeant was unhappy that the sheriff’s office hadn’t been brought in on the ambush from the beginning, and let Lucas know in no uncertain terms what he, and by extension the sheriff, thought about a bunch of cowboys from the NOPD and the St. Tammany Parish Sheriff’s Department pulling off a dangerous, harebrained
scheme like that right under the St. John’s sheriff’s nose. Lucas was appropriately apologetic and earnest about their fear for the child’s life if they brought in any official authorities. He was careful to explain to the sergeant that a professional kidnapper, a disgraced dirty cop named Bentley Woods, had been called in from Chicago to handle the job. Through a connection of his own in
Chicago, Lucas had learned that Woods had been a prime suspect in a couple murders for hire in Cook County, Illinois, but that in neither case was there enough evidence to convict him.

That information horrified Kate. Her child had been in the hands of a man who committed murder for money. She moved to the couch and draped her arm across Max’s legs in a protective gesture, trying to shove
the image of the kidnapper with that gun in his hand out of her brain.

After about forty minutes, the sheriff came in, and nodded for Lucas and the sergeant to follow him into his office. He closed the door.

Kate couldn’t hear anymore, and despite the coffee, she could barely keep her eyes open, so she decided to catch a nap while she was waiting. She laid her head back against the couch
cushions and dozed.

“Dr. Chalmet?” a voice said.

Kate cringed as she opened her eyes. For a split second her drowsy brain told her that it was the kidnapper talking to her, before she woke up enough to remember that she was in a room at the Sheriff’s Department of St. John the Baptist Parish.

She looked up. It was a man in a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was
youngish, maybe late thirties, but had the look of a chronically tired suburban dad. “Dr. Chalmet? I’m Detective Adrian Darrow. I need to ask you some questions.” He gestured to the wooden table, where a couple fast-food bags and a small recorder sat. “I got a chicken biscuit, a sausage biscuit and some French toast sticks. Plus some milk and orange juice. I hope that’s okay.”

“Thank you,”
Kate said, glancing at Max. “I think Max is going to sleep for another couple hours—he’s exhausted. But the sausage biscuit and the orange juice sound great.”

He pushed the bags toward her.

“What time is it, anyway?” Kate asked.

“About a quarter to nine,” he said.

“Wow. It was just after sunrise when we got here,” she said, then took a bite of the sandwich. “Good,” she mumbled,
chewing. Once she’d swallowed, she asked, “Is there any information about Travis Delancey? He was shot. They took him to the hospital that’s close to here, I think.”

“I don’t know,” Darrow said. “I’ll get somebody to check. But first, I need to ask you some questions.” He turned on the recorder. Kate spent the next two hours reliving all the fear and anxiety of the past five days as she answered
his questions.

* * *

“I
DON
’
T
CARE
who I have to see, how sore I’m going to be or how many forms I have to sign if I leave now. Do you understand?” Travis groused. “It’s after noon. I’ve been here since before dawn and I am leaving—with or without discharge orders.”

The nurse opened her mouth, closed it, opened it one more time, then whirled on her heel and left the room.

Travis turned and looked at his brother Lucas. “Don’t just stand there. Help me.”

Lucas laughed. “That dead-calm look you gave the nurse. Is that some supersecret, classified U.S. throat-paralyzing glare?”

Travis gave a half shrug and kicked the sheet off his right leg. He wiggled it sideways until his foot was hanging off the bed. Then he braced his hands on the guardrails of the bed
and lifted his butt and twisted to the right. When he lowered himself back down, he groaned.

Lucas laughed some more.

“Luke, I swear I’ll come up off this bed and beat you into next week.”

“No, you won’t,” Lucas said. “You can’t even stand up. I can’t believe a bullet to the butt cheek is all it took to ground you.”

“Shut up and help me get up. I need to see Kate and my son.”

Lucas’s grin faded. “Okay. I know. But while you’re dressing, we need to talk.”

Travis had known this was coming from the moment he’d first seen his brother in Dawson’s warehouse.