When the Heart Lies

Chapter 17





Kinsley was alone in the cabin for the first time. Wayde had gone out to make a call for the ransom. He locked her inside and left Remy to stand guard on the porch. She wasn’t sure why, but was grateful she wasn’t going to have to be alone with him. She scrambled, searching for anything to help her escape. There was nothing sharp, nothing deadly. She checked the bedrooms, bathroom, and living and kitchen areas. Nothing. Then, she saw the coffee pot on the counter. So simple, but it had escaped her. Until now. She grabbed the coffee, placed a filter into the basket, and dropped three scoops into it. Without regret, she reached into the front of her shorts and removed the pills with trembling hands. In haste, she opened the bottle and spread them across the top of the grounds. Then she put two more scoops in to cover them. While unlikely to kill them, the effects of the brew would give her time to get away. But if it did kill them, so be it. She wasn’t going to sit and do nothing. She heard the car pull up and Wayde come onto the porch. He and Remy started talking. After about five minutes, their voices escalated. The conversation sounded heated. Their voices died down, but she still heard them talking. When the screen door squeaked, she scurried to the couch and slunk down into the ratty cushions.

Wayde entered first. Like a wild man, he dashed toward her, his rank hostility permeating the room. Apparently, the call for the ransom hadn’t gone well. He jerked her by the arm, hauling her from the sofa onto the floor. Before she realized what happened, he bent over and yanked her by her ponytail. Using the ponytail like a rope, he swung her around several times. Her hands clawed his, and her screams mingled with his ranting as she struggled trying to separate herself from him.

“You’re getting to be more trouble than you’re worth. You bitch!” He kicked her feet. “Get up, make yourself useful, and get me a beer.”

She scrambled to her feet and grabbed him a beer from the ice chest. Wayde picked up the chair that had fallen over in the uproar and sat down at the table, focusing on some invisible target. Remy swiped his glass from the table, poured himself a whiskey, and then stood perched against the door eerily silent. He had never been so subdued. She handed Wayde his beer, even popped the tab for him, as she slid into her chair at the table.

“That woman is going to get you killed,” Wayde said with vacant affect.

She studied his face, and searched for a hint of frivolousness in his tone, but didn’t detect it. With Remy uncharacteristically quiet, she was inclined to believe Wayde’s remark. “What woman? What are you talking about?”

Wayde smiled disturbingly. “You still don’t get it, do you?” He shook his head with a grunt and lit a cigarette. Do you honestly think we met by chance?”

Her brow creased. “I’ve never thought otherwise.”

“Angela’s our cupid. She wanted you out of the way. Something about you really eats at her. She spotted your weaknesses, and I fine-tuned them. Fooling you was easy, easier than I thought it’d be.”

“Angela?” Her heart beat in her throat. Theories rattled through her brain, and her open mouth hung in disbelief. What had Angela found out? And who else knew? She must’ve had a reason to go to such extremes. But even if Angela had reason, Kinsley found believing she would put her and Max in danger next to impossible. She’d never known Angela to do more than spread a nasty rumor or spill a strategically placed glass of red wine on a drooling bimbo when she wanted revenge. Wayde was right. It had been easy to dupe her.

“Don’t look so stunned, you would’ve figured out what was going on if you had wanted to.”

“Where is Max, and when do we go home?” It didn’t matter anymore why she was with Wayde or who instigated their meeting. Remy laughed, hauntingly. She saw triumph in his eyes. Fear raked through her.

~ ~ ~

Slack eyed and devoid of sleep, Xavier entered the kitchen of his home. Jonathan was already sitting at the table, amidst the aroma of fresh coffee and the comforting sound of the clock ticking away the time. A silent expression of unequivocal understanding passed between them.

“I'm going to visit Angela today, with Mills.” Xavier said. “I can hardly see the point though. Seems unlikely she’d tell us anything even if she had the ability to talk after the stroke. When Jackson mentioned Wayde enlisted thirty-two years ago in south Carolina, it hit me that Angela might have known him and may have wanted Kinsley gone. I didn’t say anything last night, I wanted to check the video surveillance of my study first. I checked and it’s clear Wayde meeting Kinsley wasn’t coincidental. Angela had gone snooping and found her reasons for setting Kinsley up.”

“That’s an understatement,” Jonathan said.

Xavier’s eyes flashed upward briefly, acknowledging Jonathan’s conclusion. “She must’ve laid the groundwork for the manipulation of Kinsley and Nick’s marriage and fed Wayde the stories Kinsley shared about Drew over the years. It appears Wayde was more than willing to comply, for a price, and fabricated his relationship with Drew. Why didn’t I see it? My God, we both know why Angela did it—to hurt Kinsley, punish her for the things she’d found out. But why the kidnapping? That’s what isn’t clear to me.”

“People are capable of all sorts of things, Xavier. We don’t always understand the reasons people turn to desperate measures. I do know you can’t blame yourself for what Angela’s done. No good will come of it.” Jonathan stared down into his coffee, stroking the rim of the cup repeatedly with his thumb. “What’s important now is to get Kinsley home safely.”

“Yes, you’re right, when she’s home everyone will be relieved. Maybe things can finally be set straight in this family.”

Xavier placed his hands on the table’s edge and leaned back. “Well, where’s Nick, maybe I should start with him?”

Jonathan gave him an empathetic look. “He’s passed out on the sofa in your study.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He was half tanked when I went to bed. I’ll talk to him. The last thing Kinsley needs is for him to slip back into the drunken stupor he was in when she left.”

~ ~ ~

Across the street from the café, Jackson paced the sidewalk. The night had come with a barrage of theories on Kinsley’s disappearance, most of them ill fated, and he’d spent the majority of his sleepless night chasing bogus information. After speaking with Xavier and Olivia earlier, the situation appeared bleak. Wayde hadn’t made a second call yet, and the vehicle they had left in hadn’t been spotted. When Jackson saw a man holding keys and heading for the door of the café, he exited the truck quickly and made his way into the building directly behind him.

The man turned and faced him. “Sorry sir, we don’t open for another half hour.” He smiled and held the door ajar for Jackson to exit. “You understand.”

Jackson stayed put. “I’m not here as a customer. I need to talk to you about one of your regulars. Are you Jim?”

He





narrowed his eyes, nodded, and took off his baseball cap, twirling it in his hands as he waited for Jackson to continue.

“The women’s name is Kinsley. She’s somewhere around twenty-eight, dark hair, pretty. Comes in here in the afternoon about five times a week.” He pointed toward a table. “She sits over by that window, every visit.”

Jim rocked his head back and forth and gave an apologetic look. “I try to stay out of my customers’ business. Orangevale’s a small town. You understand.”

“I do understand.” Jackson pulled out his badge. “I’m working on a possible kidnapping. The woman’s life might be in danger. If you know anything about her or her alleged kidnappers, Wayde Mather and Remy Davis, we could use your assistance. No, let me rephrase that. If you can’t help us, we’re at a standstill.” In uniform, he would have never admitted the lack of direction. But this was personal.

Jim held his hand out toward the chair and motioned for Jackson to sit. His mouth hung open to speak, but he just shook his head. “Kidnapping? She was a nice woman.”

A pang of dread crept through him when Jim spoke about Kinsley in the past tense. “Was? Do you know something?” His own voice sounded shaky and weak.

Jim leaned his arm onto the table and buried his forehead in his hand. “No, no, I don’t, but I should’ve known something was wrong. Wayde, he seems like trouble. I’ve always tried to appease him.” He finally looked up. “And Remy, well, he’s been a bully since we were kids. I don’t like to admit this, but he’s my cousin.”

“Can you tell me anything about either of them that might be related to Kinsley? Do they have any ties to other states or towns, places they might take her?”

Jim waggled his finger, beginning to smile. He had a light in his eye now as if something big had just crossed his mind. “You know what? I just might know where they could be.”

Finally, having a lead, Jackson lifted himself off the chair and circled around, moving closer to Jim. “Where, where is it?”

“My uncle kept a cabin for hunting, fishing, and stuff about four hours north of here in Shallow Water. I ain’t heard of anyone using the place in a while, but we went up north a lot when we were kids.” Jim tipped his head toward him and beamed like he’d just answered the million dollar question.

“Can you tell me how to find the place?”

Jim’s beaming smile changed to a more apprehensive expression, and he scratched his head. The more he scratched, the more his face scrunched and wrinkled.

Jackson tensed. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, that might be difficult. After you get off the interstate, the roads aren’t marked good. I’m not sure I’d even remember their names. I can take you, though.”

Olivia would truss his balls for letting a civilian get involved. Giving information was one thing, riding along another. He rolled his head toward the door anyway. “Let’s go.”

Jim hung the ‘Closed’ sign and locked the door.

~ ~ ~

Wayde appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Other than his shallow breaths, Kinsley could almost imagine him dead. She lay on the bed pretending to sleep until he awoke and left the room. She was determined to follow through with her plot to drug them, and hungry to watch the light in their eyes die away when they realized their inept plan had gone awry. She smiled blithely within and gave them some time to drink the tainted coffee and bask in their presumed achievement. After a few minutes, she hurried out of bed and from the room. Before the door closed behind her, Wayde started in with his taunting.

“Don’t you look like a million dollars this morning. Oh wait, make that two million. Xavier’s handling things now. I wonder when he’ll figure out Nick is my son, and Max is my grandson? I bet you’re surprised. What a fool he’s been. Well, keeping him in the dark was profitable. As long as he didn’t find out about Nick, Angela kept the hush money rolling in. In a few hours, the ransom will be in the account Angela set up for me thirty years ago. Every dime’s still in the bank, plenty of money. She can’t deny me now. Once we get far enough away, we’ll tell them where you are. If we bother to keep you alive, that is.” He gave her a belligerent, half-cocked grin.

“You and Angela? I find that hard to believe, but then again, I find it impossible to believe I’m standing here.” Did he really think some hush money would lure Angela into his arms? He was delusional. She gave them a coy smile. “Do you want more coffee?” The pot of drug-tainted coffee was nearly gone.

“Yeah, I’ll take another cup,” Remy said through sleepy, hung-over eyes.

“I’ll take a little, too, and put some whiskey in it, I’m celebrating.” Skewing his head with a smug look, he lifted his cup in affirmation.

“I second that,” Remy said.

Feeling extremely bold, she emptied the remaining coffee into their mugs. They voiced no complaints about the flavor; she’d worried they might find it bitter from the pills. The thought of Wayde even thinking he was related to Max made her ill. The empty pot gave her courage, and she became brave enough to taunt him back. “I hate to ruin your family tree, but Max isn’t a part of it. He has no hillbilly in him.”

Wayde let out a sinister growl and looked away.

“He’s dead now anyway, we can just pretend he never existed,” Remy said.

The decanter slipped from her trembling hand. She watched it drop to the floor. Did it bounce once or twice before it finally burst into a million tiny shards of glass? Wayde’s laughter broke her trance. Her blood churned thick with anger and a bloodlust she’d never felt before. It was what she needed to carry out her alternate plan—the one she’d hoped she’d never resort to using. Max being dead changed everything. In shock, she didn’t scream or cry, but went on auto pilot, calculating what her next moves would be.

“So, did you ever decide how you’re going to kill me?” Wayde harrumphed with gusto and slapped Remy’s arm.

Appearing unmoved by the news of Max’s death, she tapped her thumb against the top of the carafe handle she had bent and picked up without thinking. “Yes, your death is imminent.”

He torqued his head mockingly. “What kind of harebrained scheme did ya come up with?”

She tossed the carafe handle back to the floor, into the pile of glass. What difference did the mess make? “Let’s talk about something else, Wayde. I’m sure there are many more important things to discuss than your death.”

“I get it now. You’re going to squawk me to death.” His smile twisted, and the roar of Remy’s laughter cropped up, mingling with his own.

Her gaze was unflinching. “That’s just phase one.”