Baby Love

  “Don’t be silly.” Maggie started walking. “Do you think I can go through concrete walls? If you’re so damned worried, come stand outside and guard the door. I’m going to use the bathroom and change my son’s diaper.”

  With every step she took, Maggie cringed, half-expecting to get a bullet in the back. Nothing happened.

  “I’ll be watchin’ that door,” he called softly. “Don’t think I won’t. Try to pull a fast one, and I’ll open fire. I swear to God. And I’ll be right outside. No askin’ for help. Do it, and I’ll kill everyone in there.” She heard a jangling sound. “Hear that? It’s bullets. I’ve got plenty in my pockets.”

  Thank you, God. Thank you. Maggie nearly wept with relief. He was going to let her go in. “I’m not stupid, Lonnie,” she called back. “And guess what, no lipstick to write a message on the mirror! You’re safe. Stand outside. Keep an ear cocked and your eyes peeled. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  Rafe didn’t wait for Ryan’s pickup to come to a stop before he jumped from the vehicle. His riding boots slipped on the packed snow at the edge of the driveway as he raced toward the house. Police cars everywhere. The bubble lights flashed, throwing a rotating blur of blue over the house and outbuildings.

  He found his father and mother sitting on the bench by the atrium fountain, their arms locked around Heidi, who huddled between them. Ann Kendrick’s shoulders were hunched around the child. Keefe had an arm around both his wife and the girl, his expression grim. There was a gray cast to his skin, and his eyes looked haunted when he met Rafe’s gaze.

  “They just took Becca away in the ambulance.”

  Rafe struggled to collect his thoughts. To his shame, as deeply as he loved the housekeeper, he could focus only on his fear for Maggie and Jaimie. “How is Becca, Dad? Will she live?”

  “It’s a shoulder wound, so there’s hope. It’s serious, though, son.”

  Rafe closed his eyes for a moment, his heart catching at the sound of his mother’s soft weeping and Heidi’s ragged sobs. He crouched before the child and touched a hand to her head. “Hey, sweetheart. How’s my girl?”

  Heidi flung her arms around Rafe’s neck. “He took Maggie and Jaimie!” she cried.

  “I know, honey.” Oh, God. It was all Rafe could do not to break down and sob himself. “They’re going to be all right, Heidi. We just have to pray really hard and think good thoughts. God will watch over them and bring them safely home.” Stroking the little girl’s hair, Rafe met his father’s gaze. “Get her out of here, Dad. Take her to your place and—” Completing the message with his eyes, Rafe drew Heidi’s arms from around his neck, wiped away her tears, and returned her to his mother’s embrace. “You go with Mom and Dad, Heidi. All right? I’ll keep in touch with you by phone and let you know the minute Maggie gets back.”

  The little girl nodded and then turned to cling to Ann again. Rafe straightened, clasped his dad’s shoulder in farewell, and then crossed the atrium to the sliding glass door. As he entered the kitchen, he scanned the room. Two police officers stood talking in the hallway that led to the rest of the house. Rafe walked toward them, his gaze drawn like a magnet to the smears of blood on the wall behind them.

  “Oh, Jesus,” Ryan whispered.

  Until that moment, Rafe hadn’t realized that his brother had caught up with him. They approached the policemen together. Rafe heard the younger officer say something about the Dallas Cowboys. Then he spotted Rafe and Ryan and broke off in mid-sentence.

  “I’m Sergeant Hall,” the older officer said. Hooking a thumb toward his companion, he added, “This is Officer Townsend. I take it you must be the younger Mr. Kendrick?”

  “Yeah,” Rafe bit out, “I’m Rafe Kendrick. This is my residence. It’s my wife and baby who’ve been abducted. What’s been done so far to find them? Any word at all of their whereabouts?”

  Instead of answering his question, the two officers began expressing their condolences.

  Rafe held up a hand. “I realize you sympathize. All right? But right now, all I want to know is what you’re doing to find my wife and baby.”

  Sergeant Hall, a gray-haired, grandfatherly type with a paunch, nodded in understanding. “We immediately ran a trace to get the make and plate number of Boyle’s automobile. Then we put out an APB, hoping another officer might spot the car.”

  Rafe could tell by the expression in the man’s blue eyes that the news wasn’t good. “And?”

  The sergeant sighed. “We located the vehicle almost immediately. The Idaho police found it abandoned at the edge of Prior about ten minutes ago.” He cleared his throat. “We, um, believe Boyle rented a car before he left town, and that he must have done so under an assumed name, using fake ID.”

  “Can’t you have the clerk that was on duty do a photo identification?”

  “Of course,” the policeman assured Rafe, “but first we have to get our hands on a photo. The local police went to his residence. No one was there. Right now, the Idaho State Police are running a computer search for his driver’s license photograph. As soon as they pull it up, they’ll have something to show the rental-car clerk. These things take time.”

  “We don’t have time,” Rafe bit out. “Lonnie Boyle is a frigging lunatic. He’s got my wife and baby! He could kill them.”

  “We’re doing everything humanly possible, Mr. Kendrick. I know it’s hard to be patient, but all of this takes time. We haven’t been dragging our heels.”

  Rafe passed a hand over his eyes. He felt Ryan’s hand gripping his arm. “I’m sorry. I, um…without a description of the rental car, how in the hell will you find them?”

  “Rafe,” Ryan said softly. “Hey, bro. How about some coffee? Hmmm? Let these fellows do their job.”

  “I don’t want any goddamned coffee,” Rafe snarled, jerking his arm from his brother’s grasp. “I want them to find my wife! The assholes are standing here with their thumbs up their asses, talking about football scores!”

  The younger officer blushed to the roots of his blond hair.

  “All just part of the job, right?” Rafe cut him a scathing glance and whipped around to return to the kitchen. Upon entering the room, he braced the heels of his hands on the counter and hung his head. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was Maggie’s sweet face. Aware of Ryan beside him, he whispered, “I don’t even know which direction he went, Rye. She’s out there somewhere, scared to death, praying I’ll find them in time. And I don’t know wh-where to l-look.”

  A sob tore up from Rafe, jerking his shoulders. His body started to shake, and no matter how he struggled to control it, he couldn’t make the shaking stop. He felt Ryan’s arm encircle his back.

  “Rafe. Dear God, don’t do this. You can’t fall apart.”

  Rafe took several deep, shuddering breaths. “I know. I have to stay calm. But I’m coming apart inside. She and Jaimie could end up dead. Dead, Rye!”

  “They won’t. It’s going to turn out all right. I’m sure of it, Rafe. God wouldn’t have brought them to you and allowed you to start loving them, only to snatch them away. You have to believe that. Have some faith.”

  Rafe’s faith had taken a serious beating a little over two years ago on a stormy autumn night. “I’m trying, Ryan. But I’m scared to death.”

  The women’s rest room was empty when Maggie entered. Just my luck. She could only pray another group of women would enter soon. She tossed down the diaper bag and turned on the water, talking loudly to Jaimie, trying to make all the sounds she might if she were actually changing his diaper. Please, God. Please. Let someone come in.

  “Hey there, big boy,” she managed to say in a relatively steady voice. “Are you Mama’s little love?”

  She jerked a paper towel from the dispenser. Turned the water off. Thumped the heel of her hand on the trash can. Pacing. Turning. Talking to her son.

  Relief flooded through her when the door suddenly pushed open and three women filed in, one matronly and gray-haired, the other two younger. Ma
ggie approached them, still carrying on a nonsensical monologue with her child as if she were changing his diaper. “Oh, yes, you’re such a sweet darling. Mama’s little man, and just look at the mess you’ve made!”

  The women drew up and stared at Maggie as if she were nuts. Pitching her voice to an urgent whisper, she said, “I need your help. There’s a man outside. He abducted me and my baby. He has a gun.”

  Afraid that Lonnie would note the lack of noise, Maggie opened a stall door, kicked the flush handle of the toilet, and then let the door slam closed. Stepping to the sink, she wrenched on the water.

  “Oh, my goodness!” she said in a cooing voice. “I’m going to have to change you from the skin out, Jaimie!”

  Turning back to the women, who were staring at her with appalled expressions, Maggie once again pitched her voice to a barely audible level. “Please, he’ll kill my baby. I’m begging you. One of you take him. You can hide him under your coat, leave in a group.” Tears filled Maggie’s eyes as she searched each of the women’s gazes. She jerked some paper towels from the dispenser, crumpled them to make noise, then shoved them into the trash receptacle. “Please!” she whispered. “Just take him, get in your car, and drive away. Go to the nearest police station. Please?”

  The older woman stripped off her blue parka and held out her arms for the baby. Maggie’s legs nearly folded. She gulped back a sob as she handed over her child to a total stranger. She knew she was taking a risk. But Jaimie’s chances were better this way than if she took him back to the car.

  “Thank you.”

  The older woman nodded as she cuddled the baby close. She draped the parka over her arm to hide Jaimie. “What’s your name, honey?” she whispered. Then, never taking her gaze off Maggie, she said in a loud voice, “Hey, lady? You got any paper on your side? The roll’s empty over here.”

  One of the younger women jerked from her seeming trance at the question and threw open a stall door to flush a toilet. “Yeah, hold on a minute. I’ll hand some under to you!” she called.

  At the noise, Jaimie began to wiggle. The woman holding him started to rock him. Maggie stared at her son, praying to God and all His angels that her son wouldn’t start to cry as the woman left the rest room.

  “My name’s Maggie Kendrick,” she whispered.

  “Hey, lady,” the younger woman standing in the stall doorway said loudly. “You want this paper or not?”

  The older woman said, “Oh, thanks. I didn’t see it. Sorry about that.”

  “Not a problem,” the younger woman said.

  The third woman stepped over to play with the water faucets and towel dispenser, her horrified gaze fixed on Maggie. “You’d think they’d keep these places stocked with paper. Where’s our tax dollars going, anyway?”

  “What’s the man’s name?” the older woman whispered.

  “Lonnie Boyle.”

  “Make and model of the car?”

  Maggie ran a hand into her hair, frantically trying to remember. “A red Honda, I think. A four-door sedan. Newer model, probably a ’98.” She closed her eyes and gulped. “Oh, you’re such a good boy!” she said loudly.

  “Cute kid,” one of the younger women commented.

  “Thanks. I think so,” Maggie replied.

  “Stall him,” the gray-haired woman told Maggie. “I’ve got a cell phone. I’ll call the cops. They can get here in only a few minutes.”

  She moved toward the door with Jaimie. The other two women flanked her, one stepping out slightly ahead and then hanging back to shield Jaimie from view with her body. Maggie gazed after them, her heart in her throat. At any second, she expected to hear Lonnie yell out. The door swung closed. She stood there alone in the rest room, so scared she could have sworn she heard the sweat oozing from her pores.

  Two seconds, three. No yell from Lonnie. She dragged in a shaky breath, slowly exhaled, grabbing frantically for her composure. “There you go!” she said in a wobbly voice. “I’ll bet that feels better, huh, big boy? You be good now while Mama goes potty. All right?”

  Maggie opened a stall door, shaking so violently that it was all she could do to walk in. She turned and struggled frantically to slide the bolt. Her fingers quivered, rubbery and unresponsive.

  She heard a car engine roar to life outside. After finally managing to lock the door, she leaned weakly against it and closed her eyes. Please, God. Let them make it safely away.

  “You gonna take all night in there?”

  She jumped at the sound of Lonnie’s voice. “I just got in here,” she cried.

  “Well, hurry it up!”

  “I’ve been hurrying,” she called back. “You think it’s easy, managing to do this while I hold a baby? Think again. I’ve only got two hands.”

  She heard the sound of cars pulling out of the rest area. Even so, she knew Jaimie wasn’t safe. If Lonnie realized she had handed him off to a stranger, she wouldn’t put it past him to give chase. The man wasn’t stupid. Without Jaimie, his hand was weakened. He would have nothing to hold over her head.

  Tears streamed down Maggie’s face. She stood there, using the door to hold herself up.

  From here on in, she thought with giddy relief, it’s just you and me, you bastard.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “We just got a break!”

  Rafe turned from gazing out the window to see Sergeant Hall stepping from the atrium into the kitchen sitting area. “What kind of break?”

  “Some gal just called the state police on her cell phone. She says she ran into a young woman in a rest area just outside Jerico who claimed she’d been abducted. Asked this lady to sneak her baby out of the rest room and take him to the nearest police station.” Hall made a circle with his thumb and forefinger, his broad face splitting into a grin. “Your baby is safe, and we’ve got the son of a bitch nailed to the wall. His location and a description of the rental car, in case he takes off before we can get there. Not likely, though. Cops are moving in on him from all directions.”

  Rafe wanted to shout. Only the joy no sooner surged through him than another wave of nearly paralyzing fear came in its wake. Maggie still wasn’t safe, and when Lonnie found out she’d managed to get Jaimie away from him, he would probably go crazy.

  “Which rest area?” Rafe demanded to know. The neighboring town of Jerico wasn’t that far away. He could be there in twenty minutes. “Was the woman north or south of Jerico when she called in?”

  Sergeant Hall shook his head. “I can’t give you that information, Mr. Kendrick. You’d drive there and only get in the way. Let the police do their job.”

  Rafe was on the man in a flash. He grabbed him by the front of his uniform shirt and slammed him against the sliding glass door. “You listen to me, you son of a bitch! That woman’s my wife! Not you or anybody else is going to keep me from going to her. You got that?”

  “Rafe!” Ryan jumped in, grabbing his brother’s arms. “Jesus Christ, have you lost your mind? You can’t muscle a police officer around.”

  Sanity returned. Rafe released the man and smoothed the front of his uniform shirt. “I, um…I’m sorry. I, um…lost my head there for a second.”

  Sergeant Hall jerked at his shirt collar and stepped away from the glass. “I could throw your ass in jail. You know that?”

  Rafe clenched his teeth, striving to control his temper.

  Hall tucked his shirt back in and straightened his badge. “If it weren’t for the fact that I’ve got a wife and kids at home myself and would probably react the same way in a similar situation, I just might do it!”

  “He apologized. All right?” Ryan put in. “He’s upset right now. Not thinking clearly. Surely you can understand that.”

  Hall nodded. “I realize he’s upset. Anyone would be. But I can’t be telling him which rest area they’re at. It’s against regs. If he went and caused a ruckus, or ended up getting himself or someone else killed, it’d be my ass hung out to dry.”

  “We understand,” Ryan assured h
im. “I do, anyway. And later, when my brother calms down, he will as well.”

  Hall rubbed the nape of his neck. “I’ll tell you what I will do for you, Mr. Kendrick. I’ll go back out and stand near the police vehicles.” He looked directly into Rafe’s glittering eyes. “Those damned radios blast so loud, you can hear everything that comes over the air from several feet away.” He smiled slightly and arched an eyebrow. “I’ll keep an ear out and keep you posted on—”

  Rafe shoved past him. “Thanks, Hall. I owe you, buddy.”

  The sergeant leaned out the sliding glass door. “I didn’t say a word about those radios. You got it?”

  Rafe never broke stride. “I got it.”

  Less than three minutes later, Rafe had heard the milepost number of the rest area and was behind the steering wheel of Ryan’s pickup. Such was his haste to reach the highway that he peeled rubber in the gravel of the drive, pelting the police cars with rock.

  “Don’t kill us getting there,” Ryan warned, one hand gripping the dash. “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes if you don’t have a wreck first.”

  Rafe slammed on the brakes. “Five minutes, tops. If you’re not up to the ride, get out now, Ryan.”

  “Five? Holy hell and high water.” Ryan gripped the dash with both hands. “I’m going with you. Step on it.”

  Rafe did just that, grinding gears and peeling rubber as he shifted into fourth, then gunned the accelerator. “Buckle your seat belt and hang on.”

  Lonnie kicked the metal door, rattling the entire rest room stall with the force of the impact. Huddling on the toilet, Maggie stared under the partition at his widespread boots, remembering how he’d pummeled her with those steel-reinforced toes the morning he beat her up. Sweat ran in rivers down her face, trickled from there down her throat, and pooled in the cleavage of her breasts. She had been terrified of this man hundreds of times over the last seven years, but never more so than she was now.