Trumped Up Charges

Chapter Eleven



“I don’t understand why you insist on staying on some hot, isolated ranch in the middle of nowhere that smells of manure. With Adam Dalton and his father no less.”

“I’ve explained that, Mother.”

“And it made sense when you were all alone, but I’m getting out of the hospital today. We can lean on each other as we’ve always done. We can see this through together.”

“I’m not just here with Adam and his father. I told you that Adam has hired a professional negotiator to help us deal with the kidnapper.”

“If Adam can afford this negotiator, then I’m sure I can.”

“But you don’t have access to a helicopter or corporate jets that might help in Lacy and Lila’s rescue.”

“And Adam and his father do?”

“The Lamberts of Lambert Oil are friends and neighbors of Adam’s father. They’ve offered whatever we need.”

“You’ve told Adam the truth, haven’t you? After the way he treated you, you’ve come crawling back to him. That’s why he and his father are taking over.”

“I’m not crawling, Mother, but I would if it could get Lacy and Lila home safely. And, yes, Adam knows he’s their father. I couldn’t very well keep it from him when the girls are in danger. We haven’t told his father as yet, but I’m considering it.”

Janice started to cry. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. So sorry you had to make that choice. And I don’t mean to fuss. It’s just that I’m so upset. I just want them home again.”

“I know, Mother. I know. It’s going to happen. We’re going to make it happen.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come out to the ranch?”

“I’m positive. You go home with your friend Karen and take care of yourself. I promise I’ll keep you posted. When we get the girls back, you’ll be the first person I’ll call.”

Janice sobbed into the phone. Hadley fought not to dissolve into tears with her and make this even harder on both of them.

“I know I shouldn’t hate Adam, but he broke your heart and he never gave it a second thought. Now he’ll never be out of your life.”

And in spite of all he’d put her through, having Adam in her life would be perfectly fine with Hadley.

But before she could let herself dream of that, they had to find Lacy and Lila and save them from a madman.

Without warning, the terror took over. Hadley began to shake as terrifying images of her daughters locked in a room with Quinton infected her mind.

* * *

ADAM WALKED INTO the kitchen and found Hadley leaning against the counter, her body racked with sobs. His heart plunged to the depths of his soul as the worst possible scenario stormed his mind.

He tugged her around to face him and then took her in his arms. “Did you hear from Detective Lane?”

“No, just Mother. She cried and then I started thinking about Quinton and crying and now I can’t stop.” Her words were broken by the sobs, but relief washed over Adam. There was no news which meant as far as they knew the girls were still alive.

“I’m going crazy,” Hadley said when she could finally talk without breaking down. “Whoever the kidnapper is, why won’t he call? Why is he tormenting us like this?”

Adam picked up a napkin and began wiping her tears away. He hurt for her as well as for himself, but he knew meaningless platitudes wouldn’t help. He stuck to the facts.

“We’ve heard from him every day the girls have been missing. Surely we’ll hear from him soon.”

“In the meantime, all I can do is wait and go out of my mind.”

“You need to get out of this house. I was thinking about taking a quick horseback ride. How about joining me? R.J. has plenty of mounts to choose from.”

“Thanks for the offer, but no. I don’t want to leave the house in case the kidnapper does call. Besides, if I tagged along, I’d be such a downer it would defeat your purpose in going.”

“Knowing you were here crying would ruin my ride far more. We don’t have to talk at all if you don’t want to, and we won’t go far. You’ll have your phone with you and we can get back to the house in minutes if there’s a need.”

“I haven’t ridden in years,” she said.

“But you have ridden before?”

“I rode a lot during my early teen years. The family of my best friend owned a ranch in the Hill Country. They frequently took me with them for long weekends and summer vacations. I always hoped that one day I’d live on a ranch.”

R.J. would probably love to give her Adam’s share of the ranch. He just might when he found out that Lacy and Lila were his granddaughters.

“You could use some fresh air,” Adam urged. He was going stir-crazy. She had to be feeling the same way. Doing nothing in the face of a tragedy was the hardest task of all.

He’d grab some food from the kitchen to take with them. At the very least he should be able to get her to eat enough to keep her from collapsing. He wasn’t doing much else to help.

Being useless was killing him.

* * *

R.J. SADDLED A couple of horses that needed exercising while Adam made fried-ham-and-egg-on-toast sandwiches and Hadley changed into more comfortable riding clothes.

In minutes they were on the worn horse trail to the swimming hole. It was only mid-morning but the temperature and humidity were steadily climbing.

Adam led the way, taking his horse to a canter and then a full gallop when he realized Hadley had no trouble keeping up. They didn’t slow until the old swimming hole came into view. Oddly the only part of it that looked familiar to Adam was the rope hanging from the branch of an oak tree that extended over the spring-fed pool.

They dismounted and Adam looped and secured their reins to the branch of sycamore tree.

“Your gnarly rope is still there,” she said.

“Most likely it’s not the same one. That was a lifetime ago.” Last week was a lifetime ago.

Hadley walked toward the pool. Adam took the sandwiches and two bottles of water from his saddlebag before following her across the carpet of grass and weeds.

Hadley stopped to watch a butterfly flutter past. “The girls would go wild with this much room to run and play and a pool of cool water to wade in.”

“The girls will love it here,” he corrected. “R.J. is smitten with you. I’m sure he’d love for you and the girls to come out as often as you like.”

“He’s already said as much,” Hadley said. “I feel guilty not telling him that the girls are his granddaughters. But if Lane finds out that you’re Lacy and Lila’s father, he’ll find a way to twist that into suspicion and motive. Based on the fact that I lied about it earlier, if nothing else.”

Adam had no doubt that Lane would find out soon. The longer this went on, the less likely he was to keep any of his secrets. He’d only glanced at the morning paper, but it was full of speculation about what had happened to the girls. He figured the TV and radio news was, as well.

Dallas citizens who believed that Hadley was innocent were worried about their own children and demanding the police move faster in solving the case and finding the girls.

The number who believed Hadley had gotten rid of her own daughters was growing and they were demanding an arrest.

And all Adam and Hadley could do was wait. He hated that the kidnapper held the reins. All Adam’s military training, all his combat experience was worthless in this situation. He couldn’t sneak up on the enemy or go rushing in with guns blaring. Even if they knew the identity of the kidnapper, a wrong move could get the girls killed.

So the best he could do was try to keep Hadley from falling apart. He unwrapped the top of a sandwich and tried to hand it to her.

She shook her head. “I can’t eat.”

“Try a few bites. You have to stay strong for the girls. You don’t want to be fainting from hunger and exhaustion when the kidnapper calls.”

She relented and reached for the sandwich. “I’ll take a bite, but I can’t guarantee that it will stay down. Even the sight of food makes me nauseous.”

She took a bite, chewing as she walked to the water’s edge. “Did I tell you that both Lacy and Lila can swim?”

“You never mentioned it.”

“They can. I took them to toddler lessons at the YWCA last March. Lacy pretended she was a fish from one of her favorite movies. She wasn’t the least bit afraid. In fact, she came up giggling when her head went under for the first time.”

“Yep, she’s my daughter. What about Lila?”

“She was a bit more cautious. She cried the first few times she got water in her eyes. But after the second lesson she was over her fears and reluctance. After that, she loved her lessons. And the hideous neon yellow swimsuit that she picked out herself.”

For once talking about them wasn’t making Hadley cry. In fact, it seemed to help. “What else should I know about my daughters?”

“Lacy loves to play outside. We walk to the park almost every evening in the summer. And she loves animals. She’s been begging for a puppy but we’ll have to move before she gets one. Condo restrictions forbid it where we’re renting now.”

“Every little girl should have a puppy,” Adam said.

“The condo is all I can afford. I do the best I can by them on just my salary.”

“That didn’t come out the way I meant it,” Adam said. “I’m sure that you’re a wonderful mother.” He’d never had any doubts that she would be.

“What does Lila like?”

“Her dolls and playing house and dress-up. She has this stringy-haired doll that she named Amanda. She never goes anywhere without it.”

“The doll she was holding in the video?”

“That’s the one. I’m so glad she has Amanda with her now. She would have cried herself to sleep every night without her. She might be crying now. She and Lacy could be locked up and alone with no one to hear or care if they’re hungry, or hurt, or afraid.”

Hadley’s voice grew unsteady. Her body swayed. Her face grew ashen.

Adam caught her just before she sank to the grass. He lifted her and held her in his arms. She felt fragile, as if she might break if he held her too tightly.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I won’t let you fall.”

But that was the best he could promise. All they could do was take this one day, one hour, one second at a time.

“I think I should sit a minute before we ride back,” she said.

“I agree.” He led her to the base of a towering pine. Still holding his hand, she eased down to the carpet of pine straw. She straightened her back and held her head high as the color slowly returned to her face.

“I can handle this,” she said. “I will not let the kidnapper win.”

“That’s my girl.”

The girl who got away.

His phone vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the caller ID. Matilda Bastion. He retreated back to where the horses were waiting and took the call, keeping his voice low. If this was news about Quinton, he might need to break it to Hadley gently.

“Adam, it’s Matilda.” Her voice was strained. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you, but I didn’t know who else to call.”

“I don’t mind. I told you when I gave you my phone number to call anytime you feel the need. What’s wrong?”

“Detective Lane was here again.”

“To talk about Quinton?”

“No. He came to question Alana and Sam. He insisted on talking to each of them alone. I shouldn’t have let him.”

“Why is that?”

“He bullied them, treated them like common criminals. They were both nervous wrecks when he left. Alana was crying. Sam was so upset he put a fist through a wall. He just left for his summer school class. I’m afraid he might do something foolish like not come home tonight—or try to find Quinton.”

“Did he mention Quinton?”

“He said he understood why Quinton hates cops. I was hoping you could talk to him and try to calm him down before he does something that makes him look guilty.”

“I’d be glad to. Where’s his school and how will I recognize him?”

She gave him the information and the time Sam’s class would finish for the day.

“Alana’s freaking out, too, but I can handle her,” Matilda said. “She said the detective was trying to trick her into saying things she didn’t mean to say.”

“He’s likely just doing his job.”

“But why go after them instead of arresting Quinton?” Matilda protested. “There’s no way they could be involved. They’re both here all night, every night. I told him that. And they’ve never been in trouble with the police.”

“Never?”

“Almost never. Alana shoplifted a lipstick from the drugstore when she was twelve. The clerk called the police and the officer scared her so bad she claims she’s never even eaten a grape in the produce aisle since.”

“What about Sam?”

“He’s never been arrested.”

“Still, maybe you should get a lawyer.”

“I called one this morning,” Matilda said. “My friend Johnny gave me the name of one of his customers who’s a defense attorney. I’m waiting on him to call me back. But I thought I should ask you first. I was afraid lawyering up would make all of us look guiltier.”

“I think you’d be wise to hire an attorney.”

“Then I will. I never thought it would come to this, especially after I cooperated with the detective and basically told him how to find Quinton.”

“Are you saying that you know where Quinton is staying?”

“I don’t have an address, but I gave Detective Lane the names of the thugs Quinton hung out with when he lived in Dallas before. I even gave him the names of the sluts he’d dated—at least the ones I knew about. And I told him the names of some of the bars where Quinton used to hang out.”

“How did you know those?”

“He used to talk about them. He liked playing the part of the good-time guy until he’d run into trouble and need help from me. I was the enabler. I knew that even then, but it’s hard not to help your only brother when he’s in trouble and begging for your help.”

“Give me the same information about Quinton that you gave the detective, Matilda. Start by describing him in detail for me so that I’ll recognize him if I run into him on the street. Height, weight, tattoos. Leave nothing out.”

“He’ll be easy to spot. His arms and even his neck are covered in tattoos and there’s an old, jagged scar that runs from his hairline down his right cheek from where our drunk father took a knife to him when he was ten years old.”

So Quinton had learned his ways from his father. That explained a lot. But then some of the guys Adam had served with in the military had similar stories from their youth and had turned out to be model marines.

In the end, it was all about the choices they’d made.

“You don’t want to get involved with Quinton, Adam. He’s guard-dog mean and he’s got friends who are just as mean or meaner. Quinton used to brag that one of them shot and killed two unarmed men in cold blood and got away with it.”

“I fought the Taliban for years, Matilda. I’m used to mean. Just give me the information.”

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I consider myself warned.”

Finally, there might be something he could do to help rescue his daughters.

* * *

SAM HAD BEEN so nervous after talking to Lane that he’d rammed his fist through the wall. That fact played and replayed in Adam’s mind all the way into Dallas. That was why the school where Sam was taking summer classes was his first stop.

Adam watched as students left the building in clusters and took the walkway to the parking lot. Finally he spotted him, walking with two other young men about the same age and height as he was.

He was dressed as Matilda had said, but Sam was not the clean-cut, innocent-looking kid Matilda presented him as. He was at least a couple of inches over six feet tall, muscled, and he needed a shave and a decent haircut.

He parted from the other two guys in the parking lot and climbed behind the wheel of a Buick that had seen better days several years ago, the same car Matilda had said he’d be driving.

Adam pulled in behind him and followed him out of the lot. It was possible that Sam might lead him back to the Bastion home. But Adam had a strong hunch that Sam might lead him straight to his uncle Quinton.

Sam took the I-20 freeway and exited east of downtown. Adam kept on his tail but a few cars back until Sam pulled into a parking spot in front of a pawnshop in one of Dallas’s seedier areas. Adam parked a few spaces down from him, staying behind the wheel of his truck until Sam entered a small, neighborhood café.

Adam took a cold beer from the cooler in the bed of his truck. It was important to fit in when hanging out on the streets of a neighborhood like this one.

He found a spot in the shadows of a decaying building across the street from the café. He could easily see who came and went and had a view of some of the booths through the large, dirty windows that lined the front of the café.

Sam took the last empty booth along the row of windows. Adam moved a few steps to the right so that he had a better view. He pulled the bill of his Dallas Cowboys cap low over his forehead and slouched against the building.

He watched as Sam spoke to a waitress. She returned a few minutes later with what appeared to be a Coke over ice. Sam pushed a straw into the drink and sipped, but his gaze stayed focused on the front door as if he were waiting for someone.

Hopefully, Quinton.

Sam finished that drink and ordered another without ever looking at the menu.

Twenty minutes later, he still hadn’t ordered and no one had joined him. But there was no way Sam had driven fifteen miles to order a Coke and drink it by himself.

When the waitress brought Sam the tab, Adam decided he’d waited for Quinton to show up as long as he dared. He crossed the street, walked into the café and straight to the booth where Sam was leaving money to cover his tab.

Sam paid no attention to him until Adam was standing directly over him, blocking his way out of the booth.

He looked up at Adam. “You got a problem, man?”

“No, I’m just here to talk.”

Sam tried to push past him. Strength was on Sam’s side, but Adam had the advantage since Sam was hemmed in between the booth and the bench.

Adam shoved him back into his seat. “You’re a long way from home, Sam. What brings you to the hood?”

“None of your business. You’re not a cop.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I saw your picture in the paper. You’re Hadley O’Sullivan’s boyfriend.”

“You just won round one.”

“My mother told you to follow me, didn’t she?”

“Oops. Lost round two. I’m here on my own. Now answer the question. What are you doing in this hellhole neighborhood?”

“Spreading the wealth.”

“Try again.”

Sam spread his hands in front of him, palms up. “Okay, you got me. I’m here to buy some crack like most everyone else in this greasy dive. But don’t run tattle to Mom. She doesn’t really want to know, plus she’s got enough worries right now. So do you.”

“Here’s the problem, Sam. I don’t think you’re here to buy crack or anything else. I think you’re here to meet your uncle Quinton.”

“What if I am? Is there a law against that?”

“There’s a law against stealing little girls from their beds and trying to collect a ransom for them.”

“You’re not pinning that on me. Man, I’m clean. I’m not crazy enough to get involved in a kidnapping.”

“Here’s a shocker, Sam. I don’t believe you. So let’s make a deal, man-to-man. You tell me where to find Quinton or the missing girls and I won’t call Detective Lane and tell him where you are right now. I won’t even mention that I’ve got evidence to prove you’re working with Quinton.”

“You’ve got no proof of anything. I’m not working with my uncle. No way. I know what you’re trying to do, but you’re not getting me to confess to kidnapping.”

“Too bad.” Adam took out his phone. “I guess we’ll just have to let Detective Lane work this out.”

Sam put his hand on top of Adam’s as he started to punch in the phone number. “I’ll tell you how to find my uncle, but I swear I don’t know anything about that kidnapping.”

That remained to be seen.

* * *

QUINTON STOOD HIDDEN behind a Chevy van, watching as Adam and Sam stepped out of the café and into the glaring sunlight.

He had no doubt that Adam had followed Sam here hoping that he’d lead him to Quinton. Fortunately Quinton was too smart for him. He’d expected and prepared for something exactly like this. He’d spotted Adam even before he’d finished his beer.

Quinton would catch up with Sam. He’d make damn sure that Adam didn’t, at least not in time to get in Quinton’s way. The man might be tough when he had his marine buddies to back him up, but he was on Quinton’s turf now.

All it would take was a phone call.

* * *

ADAM ROUNDED THE corner and started up the next block. The houses were old and run-down, paint peeling, shutters broken or missing, old cars and rusted toys and appliances scattered about the yards the way people in more expensive neighborhoods did with shrubbery and flower beds.

A drug deal was going down on the next corner with no regard of him, a passing truck or three boys who looked to be about eight or nine who were riding by on their bikes. A shotgun house in the middle of the block had its windows boarded up. Another had a half-rotted porch with a front door that hung askew.

According to Matilda, Quinton had rented an efficiency apartment in a house two blocks farther down Pickford Street before he’d faked his death. He’d spent even more time in Mitzi’s, a neighborhood bar that was so rough that even the cops avoided it—or so Quinton used to boast to Matilda.

According to Sam, Quinton still hung out at Mitzi’s and he figured Adam would find him there if he cased the joint for awhile. Adam would—if it came to that.

Adam motioned to the boys as they rode by on their bikes. Only one turned around and came back to see what he wanted. Adam pulled a twenty-dollar bill from his front jeans pocket.

“What I got to do for that?” the boy asked.

“Answer a couple of questions.”

“That’s all I have to do to get the twenty?”

“That’s it, as long as I’m convinced you’re telling the truth.”

“What you want to know?”

Adam described Quinton, especially the unique patterns of his massive tattoos. “Have you seen him?”

“Once. I think he’s new around here.”

“When was that?”

“Two days ago. We were riding by on our bikes and he was standing on the porch of the big gray house. We slowed down to get a better look at the tattoos. He flexed his muscles and it made the eagles look like they were flying.”

“What big gray house?”

“The one in the next block. On the other side of the street. Got bullet holes in the front window. A bunch of ’em. There was a drive-by a few weeks ago. Nobody got killed, though.”

Adam handed the boy a twenty and reached into his pocket for another one.

The boy looked at him suspiciously. “What else you want to know?”

“Have you ever seen the man with the flying eagle tattoos with twin girls? They have red hair. They’re young, not three years old yet.”

“Nope. I’ve never seen any kids at all around that gray house.”

That didn’t prove the girls weren’t there. Adam wouldn’t have expected Quinton to parade them around the neighborhood, not when news of the abduction had gone virile.

He handed the boy the second twenty and started walking.

The big, gray house came into view as soon as he reached the corner. He stopped to assess his chances of sneaking in.

He heard footsteps but before he could turn around, something crashed into him from behind, knocking him to the pavement. His head hit the concrete and the world went blurry for a second. By the time he could see straight, feet were coming at him from every direction.

He tried to stand but the kicks were too many and too vicious. There were three guys, all big and muscular and all three enjoying themselves.

He tried to fight back, but they kicked him in his stomach, his chest, his head and even his thighs. He doubled over in pain as blood dribbled from the side of his mouth.

Before his injuries, he might have been able to hold his own with two of the men. But three guys this size against one would have been formidable odds even when he’d been in top form.

“That’s enough,” one of the men ordered. “Quinton said not to kill him, just to make him wish he were dead.”

So Quinton was behind this. He should have known.

Finally, the kicks and the curses stopped altogether. He tried to get up but he writhed in pain and threw up on the sidewalk.

He closed his eyes and lay there, struggling for the strength to stand. The pain was excruciating, but nothing like what he’d endured in Afghanistan. Then he’d begged to die. Now he just wanted to get up and get moving again.

His daughters might be a few yards away, imprisoned by a madman.

“Did you find what you came for?”

Adam saw the shadow and looked up to see who was talking.

At least he no longer had to look for Quinton. Quinton had found him.