Trumped Up Charges

Chapter Nine



“Uncle Quinton?”

“In the flesh.”

Alana squealed and came running toward him, hurling herself into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Seeing is believing.”

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Just a bad rumor.” He whirled Alana around a few times and then set her back down.

Sam joined them. Unlike Alana, he was speechless for a minute. And suspicious. “Man, this is weird.” He turned to Matilda. “Mom?”

“It’s your uncle Quinton, all right. I was about to tell you when he rang the doorbell.”

“You knew,” Alana asked.

“She just found out,” Quinton said. “And I just got back to Dallas.”

Sam still looked a bit skeptical. “Where have you been for the past five years?”

“Laying low. I’d gotten into a little trouble and had to leave town fast. Didn’t want any of you getting dragged into it.”

“But Mom said there was a funeral in Vegas,” Sam said.

“It was a case of mistaken identity. But never fear, I’m back now. You’ll see lots of me from here on out.”

Matilda stood quietly, arms folded while Quinton made getting reacquainted with her children a celebratory occasion.

“How can you be so calm, Mom?” Alana asked. “It’s like your brother came back from the dead.”

Quinton threw an arm around Matilda’s shoulder. “Your mother’s a little upset with me because I haven’t been in touch for so long. But she’s plenty glad to see me, aren’t you, sis?”

“Elated.” Her attempt at enthusiasm fell flat.

“I love surprises,” Alana said. “And having you home is the best surprise of all. There’s warm chocolate chip cookies and milk waiting in the kitchen in your honor, Uncle Quinton. Just like a party.”

“Bet he’d rather have a cold beer,” Sam said.

“You know it.” Quinton laughed and he and Sam exchanged a couple of playful jabs. “But I can’t stay but a few minutes and I need to spend them talking to your mother in private.”

“You just got here,” Alana complained. “You can’t just turn around and leave.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to talk later. I’m going to be around so much that you’ll get sick and tired of me. Your mother and I are going to be teaming up in a little business venture.”

“You have to promise,” Alana said.

“It’s a definite promise.”

Matilda fought the dread as Alana went in for another hug and Quinton and Sam exchanged several playful arm punches.

Quinton waited until they could hear loud hip-hop coming from the back of the house before he reached over, grabbed Matilda’s wrists and pulled her close. The move was intimidating. His hold was so tight that spirals of pain radiated up her arms and to her shoulders.

“You’ve been busy, sis, talking to cops, doing your best to pin that kidnapping on me.”

“I didn’t go to the police. Detective Lane came to me. I had no choice but to answer his questions. But I swear I didn’t blame anything on you.”

“Tell that garbage to someone stupid enough to believe it. I’ve got friends who don’t lie to me, and they say cops are stalking them like rats after cheese, telling them they’ll be in big trouble if they don’t cooperate.” He threw in a few vile expressions that he’d never used around her before.

“Let the girls go, Quinton,” Matilda begged. “Tell me where they are and I’ll go get them. You can clear out of town and disappear again the way you did before. I have some money saved for Alana’s college. I’ll give it to you. It’s enough to get you out of the country and established somewhere south of the border.”

He let go of her arm. “Now aren’t you just the sweetest big sister ever. Of course, you can afford to be generous now. Only problem is I don’t have those girls and you know it.”

“But when you came to the door, you said...”

“Don’t take me for a fool, Matilda. There’s only one reason you’d sell me down the river. You’re doing it to save your own skin.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then let me give you the simple version. You kidnapped those girls. I know it. The police know it. Probably your good friend Janice O’Sullivan even suspects it. Who else could just walk in the house and walk off with those girls without setting off the alarm?

“Only you were never very brave so you haven’t been able to pull off the ransom demand. When I showed up at your door, it was the perfect solution. You could sic the police on me while you figured out how to get the money and get away with it.”

“You think I kidnapped the girls?”

“I know you did.”

“That’s preposterous.”

“Is it? I’m surprised you didn’t get tired of playing obedient servant to that rich O’Sullivan broad years ago. After all, why should Janice O’Sullivan have it all while you scrimp by?”

“Her husband earned that money, that’s why. And I don’t have to scrimp by when I’m not constantly bailing you out of trouble.”

“I’m not here to judge you, Matilda. I’m just here to get my share of the deal. And to make sure you don’t screw this up. Where are you holding them? I know they’re still alive. You might kidnap them but you’re too much a wimp to ever hurt them.”

“I would never kidnap or hurt any child. You surely know that about me.”

“I’m not asking. I’m telling you. I want my share. Two can play this dangerous little game of yours. Either I get cut in or you’ll never see sweet little Alana again.” His grip tightened. “And we’re not talking some paltry ransom sum, either. You probably asked for a few thousand. But it’s two million. You got that?”

“I didn’t kidnap those girls.”

“Like hell you didn’t.” He flew into a tirade of curse words. “Alana for half of the ransom. That’s nonnegotiable. I’ll be in touch. Soon.”

He pushed her away and walked out the door without looking back. Once she heard his car back from the driveway, she stepped outside and leaned against the column that supported the overhang.

Her fingers shook as she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and called the number the detective had given her earlier that day. When he answered, she filled him in on the visit from Quinton.

“I’m glad you called immediately,” the detective said.

“But if he comes back, what do I do? How do I protect myself and my children?”

“Call 911 and don’t open your door. I’ll have the patrol cop in that area put on alert.”

That did little to relieve her fears.

“While I have you on the phone, I need you to clear up a detail or two about you conning Janice O’Sullivan out of five thousand dollars,” Lane said.

“Okay.”

“Have you ever asked Mrs. O’Sullivan for money under false pretenses before or after that occasion?”

“Absolutely not. I didn’t even ask when she gave me money for Sam’s braces or Alana’s cheerleading competition in California. Janice offered. No, she insisted. She’s always been very generous with me.”

“But you admit that you asked her to pay for a funeral that never took place for a brother who wasn’t dead?”

“I did,” she admitted for the second time that day. “But I told you, I tried to pay her back. She wouldn’t let me.”

“And he never told you why he needed the money?”

“No. I told you this morning, he just said he owed it to someone who’d kill him if he didn’t pay his debt. He was so bruised and battered when he showed up that I figured he had to be telling the truth.”

“Whose idea was the funeral?”

“Mine. I wanted him out of my life. I didn’t trust him not to hurt me or Alana or Sam.”

“Any particular reason?”

The old fears interacted with the new and gripped her so hard she could barely speak. “Quinton said that if I didn’t get him the money, he’d take Alana and sell her to a South American sex slavery ring. She was only eleven years old.”

“Kidnapping. The same thing he threatened tonight,” Lane said. “The only difference is that now she’s sixteen.”

“He didn’t mention a slavery ring tonight,” Matilda said. “But the implication was there. And he’d do it, too. I know he would. The brother I loved is gone. A demon took his place.”

She’d never stopped praying for Quinton. She’d never stopped loving him—until now. Love and hate. She wondered how many families fought that crippling mix and all the guilt and denial it created every day of their lives.

“It seems kidnapping has always been on the table for Quinton,” Lane said.

“Yes, but if he kidnapped Lacy and Lila, why is he threatening me if I don’t cut him in? Why is he coming around here at all?”

“To throw us off. To frighten you so that you don’t cooperate with the police. He could have any number of reasons.”

No doubt. He was smart in all the wrong ways.

When the conversation ended, Matilda stepped back inside. She locked the front door and tiptoed back to her bedroom. She wasn’t ready to field all the questions she was certain Alana and Sam would throw at her.

She pulled the locked metal safe from the top shelf of her closet and set it on her bed. The dread grew all-consuming as she unlocked it and took out the black pistol that her husband had bought for her when they were first married.

For her protection, he’d insisted. He’d made her learn to load it and shoot it. He hadn’t been able to make her like it. And instead of making her feel safe, it had frightened her. It hadn’t been out from under lock and key since he’d died.

She trailed a finger along the short barrel and then gingerly let the tip of her fingernail scratch along the trigger. The thought of aiming the gun and pulling that trigger made her chest constrict until she felt her heart might be squeezed from her chest.

Could she pull that trigger and kill Quinton if her life depended on it? She wasn’t sure.

Could she pull the trigger if Alana’s life depended on it? Without a second’s hesitation.

One by one, she slipped the bullets into the chamber. When she put the safe back into the closet, the gun was no longer inside it.

She took out her phone. There was one more call she needed to make tonight, this one to Hadley. She had to apologize for not telling her about the missing key the morning they discovered the girls were missing. She hadn’t gotten the chance to do that this morning.

And she wanted to warn Hadley that Quinton was most likely the kidnapper. Her daughters were in the hands of a demon.

* * *

R.J. SPOTTED THE UNFAMILIAR pickup truck parked in front of his house a yard or two before he reached the horse barn. One of his neighbors might have gotten a new truck. Not that he was expecting company.

He bypassed the horse barn and let Dooley trot on up to the house. Definitely not a neighbor, he decided as he caught a glimpse of the sweet young thing with the fiery mass of red hair sitting on his porch swing.

She waved and he smiled. He waved back and then climbed off his horse and left him standing there. Wouldn’t matter if he ran off. Dooley always found his way back to his stall before feeding time. Usually he just waited around on R.J., though.

“You lost?” he asked, as he climbed the steps.

The lady stood and walked toward him. “I’m Hadley O’Sullivan. I’m here with Adam.”

“So Adam brought you out to the Dry Gulch. Don’t that just paint a black dog blue?”

“Excuse me?”

“Pay my rattlin’ no mind. I’m R.J. I guess Adam told you about me before he drove you out here?”

“He told me that you’re his father, but that the two of you haven’t seen much of each other over the years.”

“Right on both counts. I’m sure sorry to hear your daughters have gone missing. I know you must be frantic.”

“To put it mildly. But the kidnapper has made contact with us. They’re alive and I’ll do whatever it takes to get them back.”

“My money’s on you,” he said.

The door opened and Adam and a rush of air-conditioned air came rushing out. For a minute or more, R.J. and Adam just sized each other up, neither saying anything.

He probably knew more about Adam than Adam did about him. His information had come from an unbiased source—private detective Meghan Lambert. Adam’s had come from R.J.’s third wife.

R.J. spit a stream of snuff juice over the railing and extended his hand. “Good to see you, son. Does this mean you’re taking me up on my offer to move to the ranch?”

“Not exactly.”

“I didn’t think so. That’s okay. I know you and Hadley here got trouble up to your eyeballs. Details of the kidnapping were all over the news.”

“Don’t believe everything you read or hear from the media,” Hadley said. “But the basic story is true.”

“If you mean the insinuations that you might be involved in the girls’ disappearance, I already disregarded that. You got that panicked-mom look stuck to you like chewing gum in a dog’s hair.”

R.J. turned back to Adam. “You’re both welcome to stay as long as you like. I sleep in the first bedroom on your right as you start down the hall off the family area. There are two more on the first floor and three on the second floor. You and Hadley can have your pick.”

“I appreciate that,” Adam said. “Hadley couldn’t step out the door at her mother’s house without being swamped by reporters and cameramen.”

“You can bring your mother out, too, if you like, Hadley,” R.J. said. “No use to leave her imprisoned by those vultures.”

“Mrs. O’Sullivan had surgery yesterday morning,” Adam said. “She’ll be in the hospital for at least another day. But there will be someone else joining us, a man named Fred Casey. He’s going to help us negotiate a ransom exchange with the abductor.”

“Local cop or an FBI agent?”

“Neither. He’s a private ransom negotiator. Normally he works with big companies that operate in unsafe parts of the world.”

“How did you a find man of that caliber so quickly?”

“He’s the brother of a friend I served with in Afghanistan. He’s on his way here from the airport now. I know I should have checked with you before barging in with an entourage, but time is of the essence.”

“No problem,” R.J. said. “Just make yourself at home. Literally. If you see anything you want to eat or drink, no need to ask. How about a cold beer now?” R.J. wiped his shirtsleeve across his sweaty brow. “I’m having one.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Adam agreed.

“I’ll take a Diet Coke if you have one,” Hadley said.

“So happens I do.”

R.J. left them alone to talk about him. He heard another vehicle pull up as he leaned over to get the soda from the bottom drawer. He grabbed another beer while he was at it.

He didn’t know if he and Adam would find any common ground or not. But he sure hoped Adam didn’t let Hadley down. She needed a hero in the worst way.

According to Meghan, Adam had saved lives before. No reason to think he couldn’t do it again.

* * *

FRED HAD SET UP a headquarters of sorts in the upstairs sitting area. The room was large with windows that overlooked a corral and a fenced pasture where at least a half dozen full-size horses and several colts roamed.

He’d brought his own equipment with him—a computer, portable printer, folding wall board with an area map for flagging locations, and wires and mechanical parts and tools for tying the cell phone that the kidnapper had left Hadley in with his own phone.

Adam was impressed with his level of preparedness and his professionalism. It was easy to see why the man was so successful.

While Fred had set up, Adam and Hadley had filled him in on all the facts, as they knew them. Then they’d all sat down to watch the video again, and again, and again.

After the third playing, Fred stopped it.

“Why do you think he’s waiting so long to call me?” Hadley asked.

“He’s an amateur at this. My guess is the abduction was a spur-of-the-moment decision and now he—or she—is trying to figure out how to get out of the country with that much money in their wallet.”

“Can’t he just drive across the border?” Hadley asked.

“It’s not as easy to do that as it used to be. And he’s probably figured after the fact that as soon as the cops know he has the money, every border patrol agent in the country will be on the lookout for a man carrying that much cash.”

“What about a charter plane?” Adam asked.

“Same set of problems if he goes with an honest company. And if he goes with a dishonest one, the pilot may kill him for the money and dump him from the plane sans parachute.”

“How do you know he’s an amateur?” Hadley asked.

“He didn’t hide the fact that he had a key. If he’d made it look as if he’d broken in, the field of suspects would have been practically endless.”

“Is that all?”

“There’s the fact that he didn’t have an escape plan ahead of time. That way he’d have only have to risk one contact with you and there wouldn’t be so much wait time for the police to spend tracking him down.”

“Is there anything we can do to speed this up?” Hadley asked.

“As a matter of fact there is. He needs an escape plan. I’m going to give him one. A plan that will lure him into our trap instead of the other way around.”

“I don’t want to take any chances with the girls’ lives,” Hadley said.

“That’s why we insist on my plan. I’ll start work on that now. All I need you to do, Hadley, is to let me handle all conversation from here on out with the kidnapper. You can answer the phone when he calls, but after that, leave the talking to me.”

“What about the ransom money? I don’t have anywhere near five million dollars.”

“How much do you have?”

“How much do you need?” They all turned to see R.J. standing at the door. “How much do you need to pull this off?” he asked again.

“Fifty thousand in twenty-dollar bills should be more than adequate.”

“I’ll go to the bank and get it now.”

Adam was pleasantly shocked, but he didn’t really want any charity from R.J. “I’ll pay you back,” he said. “I’ll start making payments as soon as I get a job.”

R.J.’s brows arched. “You don’t have one?”

“I’ve only been out of the service a month.”

Actually he’d had a couple of offers that he’d turned down. After the military, any job requiring him to be tied to a desk in a stuffy office seemed worse than landing in the enemy’s stronghold.

“We’ll also need a couple of small duffels,” Fred added. “They don’t have to be new.”

“I can provide those, as well,” R.J. said.

Fred grinned. “Then let’s fire up the grill and start cooking. It’s time to bring Lila and Lacy home.”

Adam liked his optimism. And he loved the smile on Hadley’s face.

But still they needed the kidnapper to call.

* * *

THE REMAINDER OF the afternoon dragged by. Adam felt the pangs of being left out of the loop. Even R.J. was contributing more to the girls’ rescue than he was right now, and R.J. hadn’t been told as yet that he was the girls’ grandfather.

In spite of that, R.J. and Hadley had bonded surprisingly well. When R.J. had returned from the bank, fifty thousand dollars cash in hand, she’d accepted his offer to check out some of his prize horses.

After that, they’d cooked supper together. Baked chicken with purple hull peas and fresh tomatoes and corn bread that R.J. had baked in a cast-iron skillet.

Fred and Adam had cleaned their plates. R.J. and Hadley had barely picked at their food. No one had mentioned the fact that the kidnapper hadn’t called.

Now that he thought about it, no one had even mentioned the abduction since they’d discussed Matilda’s call confessing to the missing key and naming Quinton as the most likely one to have taken it.

The fears may not be spoken with every breath, but they were no less real. They were all very much aware that the worst enemy was the ticking clock.

Adam looked out the window and watched as twilight hovered like a black widow spider squatting over its prey. It was after eight—summer days in Texas held on as long as they could.

Hadley tossed the magazine she’d been rifling through to the sofa. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Would you like company?” Adam asked.

“Sure, as long as you don’t expect much in the way of conversation.”

He joined her. They both walked in silence until they were almost out of sight of the house. Hadley walked at a racer’s speed, arms swinging, her hair bouncing about her shoulders. Finally, she slowed her pace.

“I’d like to bring Lila and Lacy to the ranch once they’re home again,” she said. “I think they should get to know their grandfather before the tumor takes over and he starts to lose control of his functions.”

“Did he tell you that’s what would happen?”

“He did. He’s handling it well, don’t you think?”

“I haven’t thought a lot about it.”

“Do you think his other children will move back to the ranch?”

“I don’t know enough about them to even venture a guess.”

“What about you?”

He gave that some thought. “I never pictured myself as a cowboy.”

“I have.”

“When? You didn’t even know my father owned a ranch until today.”

“True, but you have that cowboy swagger. And you always wear jeans and boots. So you look the part.”

“That’s from growing up in Texas.”

He recognized the conversation for what it was—an attempt not to talk about the danger and the anxiety that never let go.

He hadn’t noticed it until she’d brought it up, but he did feel a lot more at home on the ranch than he’d expected. But if he did decide to stick around after the girls were safe, he and his father would have to deal with more kinks than you’d find in a nest of rattlesnakes.

He hoped to be a better father for his daughters than R.J. had ever been. He hoped he got that chance. But how could he stay in Dallas when being with Hadley and not touching her, or kissing her, or crawling into bed beside her would kill him?

“We should go back,” Hadley whispered as if reading his mind.

Hadley turned and set a quick pace as they retraced their steps.

“Is that Detective Lane’s car?” she asked when they approached the house.

“Looks like it could be,” Adam said. “I can’t really tell in the moonlight.”

“Maybe he has news.” Hadley broke into a jog, not slowing until she reached the driveway.

It was definitely the detective’s car. Adam stayed a step behind her as Hadley raced up the steps and into the house.

They found the detective and R.J. in the kitchen. R.J. was sipping whiskey from a short glass. The detective was hugging a mug of coffee.

“Have you found Lila and Lacy?” Hadley’s words were punctuated with short gasps for breath.

“No,” the detective said, “but I’ve located Quinton Larson.”

At last they were getting somewhere, though you’d never know it by the look of foreboding on the detective’s face.