Suspicion (37 page)

  "I can’t, Kate."

  "What do you mean you can’t?" She let go of his arm and took a step back. "It’s what you’ve been trained to do. I wouldn’t even dream of letting anyone else rescue my daughter."

  "If you want a true expert to rescue Alison, then you’ll wait for Randy Vargas. I called him from the car on my way here and gave him as many details as I knew. We can fill him in with the rest when he gets here." He glanced at his watch. "That should be any minute now. He’s bringing one of his best men with him."

  "I don’t want Randy Vargas! I want you!"

  "I can’t do it," he repeated. His face grim, he walked over to the window and pushed the curtains apart. "And you know why."

  Kate was at his side again, her voice low and urgent. "Mitch, listen to me. That incident you told me about happened a long time ago. And that little girl, precious though she was, was a stranger. This is Alison we’re talking about. My daughter. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?"

  He swung around, his facial muscles taut. "It means everything to me!" he flung back. "That’s why I can’t do it. I can’t put her in the same danger I put my…" Realizing he had almost let out the truth, he walked over to the well-stocked bar and poured himself a Perrier.

  "It was one mistake, Mitch." Undaunted, Kate followed him. "One mistake out of dozens of successful missions. Don’t you think it’s time you put it behind you and moved on?"

  For a moment, he weighed the odds. Other men had failed missions and gone back into action almost immediately. Maybe he could too-just this one time.

  But in the end, Alison’s safety came first. "You’ll have to wait for Randy."

  He saw her stiffen and understood the loathing she must be feeling for him at this very moment. He was letting her down at a time when she needed him the most. No matter how much he tried to make it up to her afterward, there would never be a more significant moment in their lives. Maybe the significance was in the harsh reality that their relationship was over.

  Rose came to stand between them. Somehow she had composed herself and was once again the strong, sensible woman Mitch had met six months ago. "Look," she said, her gaze moving back and forth between Mitch and Kate. "I don’t know what’s going on between you two, or what you’re talking about, but maybe Mitch is right, Kate. If he doesn’t feel comfortable with the idea of rescuing Alison, then we shouldn’t force him."

  "Oh, don’t worry, Rose." Kate’s voice dripped with sarcasm. "I wouldn’t dream of forcing him to do something he doesn’t want to do." Although her words rang with a chilling finality, the expression in her eyes told Mitch she wasn’t through with him yet. She hadn’t delivered her coup de grace. "You know what you are, Mitch Calhoon?" Rage and contempt bubbled up to the surface, spilling into the room like a poison. "You’re nothing but a coward."

  Then, struggling to control her tears, she turned away from him and went to the sofa to pick up her purse.

  Mitch let the angry words roll off his head. "Where are you going?" he called out after her.

  "None of your damned business."

  Seconds later, the front door slammed shut.

  Astounded, Rose turned to Mitch. "What’s the matter with you? Why didn’t you stop her?"

  "Because she didn’t want to be stopped." Pulling the curtain aside again, he watched the red Saab speed down the driveway and disappear. "And because she hates me right now."

  "But don’t you see what she’s going to do?"

  "No, Rose, I don’t." He felt suddenly very tired. "I’ve never been much of an expert on women. I’m assuming she’s going for a drive to clear her head."

  "God." Rose rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "She’s going to rescue her daughter herself!"

  He spun around. "That’s ridiculous."

  "Is it?" Rose pointed at the coffee table where a moment ago Douglas’s map had been spread out. "Then will you please tell me why she walked out with the map to Sander’s cabin? And the photographs?"

  "That fool!" Mitch exploded. "She’ll get herself killed." He made a mad dash for the door, glad that this time he had his gun with him.

  Rose ran after him. "What shall I tell your friend when he gets here?"

  Cursing at the delay, Mitch stopped, pulled out his notebook and wrote down the directions to the cabin with as many details as he could remember. "Give him this," he said, tearing the page from his book and handing it to Rose. "And tell him to make it there as fast as he can."

  Then he sprinted out of the house, hoping he would catch Kate before she became Bruno Yager’s next victim.

  Rose was sitting on her sofa, the back of her head pressed against the cushions, when she heard the sound of her son’s voice.

  "Hello, Mom."

  Her head snapped up. "Eric!" she cried, rising and rushing into his waiting arms. After hugging him fiercely, she extended an arm toward Megan, bringing her into their embrace. "Megan." She seemed quite incapable of saying anything more than those two names.

  "Why is everybody walking around as if they’d just lost their best friend?" Eric asked lightly. "I just saw Joseph and he looked awful. He couldn’t even say hello. I haven’t been accused of another crime while I was gone, have I?" he asked with a laugh. "I haven’t turned into some kind of mass murderer."

  "Oh, Eric, you don’t know."

  Eric’s expression sobered instantly. "Know what?"

  "Alison’s been kidnapped."

  He wasn’t sure what hit him first-fear or rage. Fear at the thought of his daughter in the hands of an abductor, or rage at himself for not having been here to prevent the abduction.

  "When did it happen?" he asked as Megan gripped his arm. "Who took her? What do they want? If it’s money-"

  Rose shook her head. "It’s not money." Taking a deep breath, she told him what she knew, including what Douglas had told her.

  To her surprise, Eric made no comment about his stepfather. When he spoke, his voice was remarkably calm. "I’m going up to the cabin."

  "No, Eric. You’ll only be in the way. Let Detective Calhoon handle it."

  "If you think," he said somewhat dramatically, but with no less determination than the most devoted of fathers, "that I’m going to let some hotshot cop who thinks he’s Rambo rescue my daughter, you’re gravely mistaken."

  "Detective Calhoon isn’t like that at all. In fact, he didn’t want to go. He wanted to wait for his former boss, a Mr. Randy Vargas, who should have been here already," she added, glancing at her watch.

  "We won’t need Mr. Randy Vargas, either. I’m here now."

  Megan, looking worried, squeezed his arm. "Eric, are you sure? Those men are professionals. They know what they’re doing, how to approach such a situation."

  "And I’m Alison’s father." He tilted his chin upward. "I let her down once, but I’m not going to let her down again. She’s my responsibility, not that of a bunch of…mercenaries." He kissed Megan’s mouth. "I’ll be all right, darling, I promise. You stay here with my mother."

  The phone rang and Eric sprang to get it. "Hello? No, this is Eric Logan. Who is this?" He relaxed. "Oh, Mr. Vargas. No, he left a little while ago." He listened for another few seconds. "Thanks for calling. Yes, I’ll tell him."

  He hung up. "Randy Vargas and his associate are tied

  up in a major traffic jam fifteen miles from here. Nothing is moving. He has no idea when he’ll get here."

  "Oh, dear," Rose said.

  "Don’t worry, Mom." He kissed her cheek. "I’ll bring Alison back. Safe and sound."

  Holding on to Megan’s hand, Rose watched her son walk out of the room. She had never felt more proud of him. Or more frightened for his life.

  Please, God, she prayed silently. Keep him safe.

  The Catoctin Mountains, some thirty miles northwest of Washington, D.C., were a major component of the Blue Ridge Mountains, extending for a little over thirty-five miles and reaching an altitude, in the northern part of the range, of nearly two thousand feet.

  It had taken Kate forty minutes to reach Route 15, also known as Catoctin Mountain Highway. Now, as she drove toward Cunningham Falls and began climbing, she turned her windshield wipers to high speed. Snow had only been a threat on Interstate 270, but up here it was beginning to reach blizzard conditions, making visibility difficult.

  She tried not to think of Mitch and of the blunt way he had turned down her request to rescue her daughter. She had to concentrate on her driving and on what she would do once she arrived at McKackney’s cabin.

  She had no experience in such things. But she had a knowledge of the criminal mind. She knew firsthand how people who fitted a certain profile thought and acted. The fact that Bruno Yager did not seem to be terribly intelligent would be equally helpful. She could divert him away from the house somehow, and once he was busy looking for whatever had caught his attention, she would get inside, grab her daughter and run.

  Too easy, she thought. Something was bound to go wrong. And yet, she couldn’t think of any other way to save Alison.

  The thought that she should have waited for Randy Vargas came and went. Every minute spent waiting could put her daughter in graver danger. And if Bruno suddenly decided to move her to another location, she might never find her.

  Just before Cunningham Falls, she turned left on Catoctin Hollow Road and looked for the two landmarks she had seen in one of the photographs-an abandoned well and a camp site. At the camp site, she turned right. The climb was steeper now and the twisting road barely wide enough for the Saab, but she made it through.

  Another photograph, one at which she glanced briefly as she drove, showed a clearing three hundred feet or so from the house. She had no idea if Bruno would be watching from a window, but she couldn’t chance it. She would have to stop the car before that clearing and make the rest of the climb on foot.

  Suddenly, as she turned a bend, she saw it! A small, A-frame house with a wooden deck jutting over the road.

  Guiding the car as far as she could inside the heavy, snow-covered underbrush, she felt it lurch to a stop. "Oh, no."

  Opening the door, she looked down. The two front tires had sunk into the snow. She was stuck.

  Well, she would have to deal with that problem later. If she didn’t feel she had enough time to get the car out, she and Alison would have to walk. She had passed a house not more than ten minutes earlier. They could make it there with no problem.

  Wishing she had worn her snow boots instead of flimsy leather-soled flats, she began climbing through the woods, trying to stay out of sight. After ten grueling minutes of

  slipping and sliding and pulling herself back up, she was exhausted. Her face was scratched from the tree branches and her hands were raw from the cold, but she kept on climbing, glad that the house was getting closer.

  "Kate!"

  Startled by the sound of her fiercely whispered name, she held on to a sturdy oak and turned around. And saw Mitch. A hundred yards or so behind her, he was climbing the steep, snowy slope with the agility of a mountain cat. Her hopes soared. He had come to help her. He had come to rescue Alison.

  Grateful for the chance to catch her breath, she took big gulps of air and waited until he had caught up with her. "Mitch, thank God-"

  "Have you seen anyone?" His tone was sharp, his demeanor cool as he observed the house.

  "No." Hurt, she took a step back. "But there’s a car in the driveway and a light inside the house."

  "Okay, here’s what I’m going to do. I’ll go through the back door-"

  "How do you know there’s a back door?"

  "I saw it in one of the photographs."

  She had missed that, but didn’t dwell on it too long. "All right. And then what?"

  "He’ll either have Alison in the front room with him or in one of the back rooms. Once I’ve located her, I’ll signal to her. What do you think? Can she handle the situation without giving me away?"

  "She’s a born actress. But you’ll need help. I’ll create a diversion out here. When Bruno comes out-"

  "Oh, no, you don’t." His gaze remained trained on the house. "He could be armed. And if he’s not, there are guns in that house. You make any kind of noise and he’ll come out shooting."

  "If you think for one moment-"

  He turned to look at her. "There’s no room for discussion here, Kate. I don’t want to have to worry about you while I go after Alison. If I feel that I need you, I’ll let you know."

  The sharpness of his tone kept her from arguing further. He was the expert. And she trusted him. That’s all that mattered. "All right, then. Go."

  As Mitch was about to resume his climb toward the house, he heard the roar of an engine. "What the hell…" He turned around and, to his stupefaction, saw a green Jaguar jerk to a stop right there in the open.

  A bearded, gray-haired man in a woodsman’s jacket jumped out of the car. "Where’s Alison?" he shouted. "Where’s my daughter?"

  "My God," Kate gasped. "It’s Eric."

  "You stupid jerk!" Mitch shouted back. "Get that damn car out of here. You’re going to screw up everything."

  The warning came too late. Up on the deck, a door opened, and a huge man, presumably Bruno, stepped out, a high-powered rifle in his hands.

  He must have seen Eric at the same time Mitch pulled Kate out of sight. A shot rang out, then a second and a third. A split second later, they heard a scream.

  Pushing himself up on his knees, Mitch glanced toward the spot where Eric had stood moments earlier. Holding his thigh and shouting obscenities, Kate’s former husband skipped on one foot for a few seconds, then fell to the ground and rolled down an embankment, disappearing from sight.