So who was it? She hadn’t seen anyone come or go from this house.
She crossed the rest of the park, not taking her eyes from that window. Someone rode by on a bicycle, a car passed, she heard voices on the other side of the park.
She crossed the street to Ann’s driveway. Did she dare go to that window to peer in and see who the man was? The curtains were closed. She doubted she could even get a look.
Instead, she went up the driveway that turned behind the house and looked in the garage window. Ann’s car still sat there. She pulled back from the window and looked around the yard.
Then she saw it. A motorcycle, parked next to the garage. She put her hand on it, felt that it was warm.
How had anyone ridden this in without her seeing them?
She looked around, wishing she had a flashlight. There were trees separating the Clark house from the house behind her. On another side, between a fence and a hedge, separating her house from the one next to her, she saw a small driveway. There it was, another way out and another way in. She stole across the yard and started down that driveway. It cut between two houses and came out on the adjacent street.
No wonder she hadn’t seen Ann or anyone else coming and going.
She checked the motorcycle, saw that it had no tag. Who was on it? She had to know.
Slowly, she walked toward that window where she could still see the shadows of a man and a woman. . . .
CHAPTER 53
Morgan checked the address she’d hastily jotted down and turned onto the block where Washington Square sat. She had tried to call Blair tonight, hoping she was home figuring out how she could buy the paper. But once again, she had not answered, and Morgan had little doubt where she was.
A sense of dark foreboding had fallen over her at the thought of her sister trying to be a hero. She had to go talk her out of one more night spent in her car, she decided. She had to convince her that her mission was insane.
Knowing that Jonathan would never let her go after Blair, she told him only that she was going to talk to her. He assumed she meant at Blair’s house. If he’d known she was circling the block now, looking for Ann Clark’s house and Blair’s car, he would have thrown his body in front of her car to stop her.
But someone had to look out for Blair.
She found the address and slowed in front of it.
There were lights on in the Clark house, clearly indicating that the woman was home.
But Blair’s car was nowhere to be seen. She drove around the block, making the square. Maybe Blair wasn’t here. Maybe she had gone to a movie or shopping in the mall. Maybe she had been here and left.
But as she turned the corner, her heart plunged. There was Blair’s car, strategically parked where she’d have a direct view through the park to Ann Clark’s front door.
She pulled in behind it, and as her headlights shone through it, she realized Blair wasn’t in it.
Morgan threw her car into park. Where was she? She cut her engine off, got out quickly, and ran to look in Blair’s window.
The car was empty. She looked around, hoping to find her sister on a park bench, but Blair was nowhere in sight.
The Clark house. She had to be there.
Swallowing back her fear, Morgan crossed the park, her eyes straining to see through the darkness. Quietly she reached the sidewalk directly across from the house. She scanned the property for any sign of life.
Finally, she saw her, standing just under a window, peering up over the rim.
Someone was going to see her and call the police—or worse! Morgan crossed the yard and bolted toward her sister.
“Blair, what are you doing?” The question came out in a loud whisper.
Blair caught her breath and spun around. “Morgan! You scared me to death!” she whispered harshly. “What are you, crazy?”
Morgan grabbed her hand and led her off of the property and away from the house as fast as she could. Blair came like a child caught misbehaving. When they were on the other side of the park, Morgan finally stopped.
“I’ve always thought you were a little cracked, Blair,” she said, trying to catch her breath, “but now I know it for sure.”
“I’m not cracked,” Blair said. “Cade is in that house.”
Morgan shoved her hair back from her perspiring face. “Did you see him when you were peaking in the window?”
“No,” she said, “I didn’t see anything. But that doesn’t mean he’s not there.”
“Blair, you’re not thinking clearly. You’re breaking the law! You can’t trespass on people’s property and look in their windows, no matter what you think is going on inside!”
“There was a man in there with her, Morgan! I saw his shadow in the curtain. He drove a motorcycle through a back driveway.”
Morgan wanted to shake her. “Blair, I don’t want to see you get arrested, and I don’t want you killed. You’re playing with fire here, and you have to stop it. Let the authorities handle it.”
“The authorities are doing zilch,” Blair said. “Cade is in trouble and nobody cares, nobody but me.”
“You’re wrong about that.”
“Oh, am I? Then you tell me why the police haven’t torn this house apart brick by brick looking for Cade? He’s in there somewhere. It’s a no-brainer. While they’re dancing around probable cause, I’m doing something!”
Morgan started to cry. Blair couldn’t be reasoned with. Malnutrition and lack of sleep had caught up with her. “Come home, Blair. Please leave this place and come home. You’re scaring me to death.”
“Oh, stop crying! This isn’t about you, Morgan.”
“I know it’s not about me,” she said. “I just feel like I’ve lost control of everything in my life. Cade, Karen’s baby, Sadie, you. You’re all in danger, and I have no control.”
“You never had control over me in the first place,” Blair said, “so get over it. And calm down about Sadie. She hasn’t done anything all that awful. She’s just being a kid, and she’s going to be all right.”
“That’s beside the point.” She straightened and wiped her face. “My sister has been trespassing on private property and stalking a woman who may have nothing to do with Cade’s disappearance at all. You’re going to wind up in jail, Blair. I want you to come home now.”
Blair turned back to the house as if something might have changed since she’d walked away. “I can’t go, Morgan. Something’s happening in there.”
Morgan had had enough. “Blair, don’t make me report you to the police myself. I’d rather have you locked up safely than know you’re risking your life here.”
Blair glared at her. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me,” Morgan said. “I’ll drive straight to the police station.”
It was clear that Blair knew she meant it. “Morgan, you’re bullying me.”
“Whatever it takes.” Morgan pointed to Blair’s car like a mother who’d had enough. “In the car, Blair. I’ll follow you home.”
When Blair hesitated, Morgan said, “Now!”
Grunting out her frustration, Blair got into her car and slammed the door. Morgan waited as she started the car, then she got into her own. Blair pulled away from the curb, and Morgan followed.
As she followed Blair back down Highway 80 to Tybee Island, she cried out to God. “Blair doesn’t have the power to save Cade, Lord. And I don’t have the power to save Emory. And Jonathan and I don’t have the strength to save Sadie, either. You’re our only hope. Please intervene here. Please let all of them be all right.”
She wept into her hand as Blair headed for Cape Refuge. “And let Blair be all right too. Lord, she needs to see your power. Please don’t let Satan win this battle.”
She followed Blair back to her front door, then watched her go in. Wiping her tears, she drove back to Hanover House. But as she went back in, she knew that Blair wouldn’t stay home. She’d be back at the Clark house within the hour.
CHAPTER 54
&
nbsp; The phone call that came to Hanover House on Thursday morning silenced the household. As she’d done each time it had rung since the baby’s disappearance, Morgan picked up the cordless phone and ran into the parlor. Agent Tavist had started his equipment rolling, and he held his arm up in the air, making her wait for a signal.
The phone rang a second time, and Morgan glanced at the Caller ID. There was no name on the screen, just a number.
“It’s a cell phone,” Tavist said.
It rang a third time and his arm came down. He pointed at her to answer.
“Hello?”
“Put the mother on the phone.” The voice had an eerie, split quality, as if someone spoke through a disguising device.
Morgan froze. Her eyes met Tavist’s, and he motioned for her to get Karen.
The kidnapper! She turned back to the stairs. The kidnapper was on the phone!
She grabbed the banister. “Karen!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Karen, telephone! Hurry!”
Karen, who had not come out of her room yet this morning, bolted down the stairs, a look of stark terror on her face. “Is it about my baby?”
“I think so!” Morgan thrust the phone at her, then pressed her face close to Karen’s so she could hear the call.
“Hello?” Karen’s voice trembled with anticipation.
“Leave fifty thousand dollars in locker number 36 at the Trailways Bus Station.”
Karen clutched the phone. “When will I get my baby back?”
“Leave the money by 4:00 P.M. tomorrow, and if it’s all there, we’ll contact you about where you can find him.”
The agent gestured for her to keep him talking. “How do I know you’ll do what you say?” Karen asked into the phone. “How do I even know my baby is still alive?”
But the phone clicked, and the dial tone hummed behind it.
Karen began to wail, and Morgan took her in her arms and looked at the agent who was still on his phone. “Did you trace it?”
He took off his headphones and looked up at her.
“Did you?”
“Oh, yeah. We traced it, all right. We have SPD on their way to the site right now.”
Karen’s face blossomed with hope. “Oh, Morgan, they might find my baby!”
But something in the agent’s eyes gave Morgan pause. “Maybe so,” she said, putting her arm around the woman. “We just have to wait.”
They sat huddled together on a love seat in the parlor, their eyes on Tavist as he talked to other field agents. Finally, he finished the call and turned back to them. “Okay, here’s what we’ve got. The phone call was made near the Laurel Grove Cemetery. Police found the phone, but the caller was gone.”
Morgan stood up. “So whose phone was it?”
Tavist cleared his throat and looked at his equipment again. Finally, he turned back to her. “Police Chief Matthew Cade.”
The world seemed to freeze, and Morgan couldn’t move. Her throat constricted, her heart stuttered. . . . “No way in the world,” she said. “Not in a million years.”
Karen didn’t care who it was. “Are they going after him? Are they going to arrest him? They have to find my baby!”
Cade. It couldn’t be Cade.
Morgan grabbed the phone. Blair. She needed to talk to Blair.
“Who are you calling?” he asked.
“My sister!”
He shook his head. “We need to keep this quiet.”
“Please,” she said. “I’ll just tell her to come over.”
He finally agreed, so she dialed Blair’s number. Thankfully, she was home.
“Hello?”
“Blair, get over here. It’s important. There’s something you need to hear.”
Silence, then, “He’s not dead. Don’t tell me he’s dead.”
“No, that’s not it. Something else. Just come over here, Blair.”
Morgan hung up. She needed Jonathan, but he was out on the Atlantic with a boat full of fishermen.
Cade’s phone? It couldn’t be!
Beside her, Karen began to pace. “The ransom. I have to get fifty thousand dollars. I have to pay them so I can get my baby.”
Morgan’s mind raced frantically. It couldn’t be Cade.
Karen kept ranting. “The bus station, he said. Tomorrow by four, locker 36. I have to do it!”
Morgan heard Blair’s car on the gravel, heard her slamming her door. She kept holding Karen as Blair bolted into the house.
“What is it?”
Morgan got up. “Blair, we got a ransom call about the baby. It was from Cade’s cell phone.”
Blair blinked at her. “What?”
“I heard the voice,” Morgan said. “They were using some kind of disguising device, so the voice was indiscernible.”
Blair turned to the busy agent. “I want you to tell me something.” Her voice quivered with emotion. “You’re a cop. If you decided to commit some horrendous crime, would you really be so stupid as to make a ransom call on your cell phone?”
“I wouldn’t. But people don’t think.”
She gritted her teeth. “Cade would think! It proves that it’s not him. Someone is using his cell phone! Don’t you see?” She went to his chair and braced her hands on his armrests. “Someone had him write that letter so we wouldn’t look for him, and now they’re setting him up for kidnapping!”
She rose up and shoved her fingers through her hair. Her scars flamed with excitement. “We never even considered that there was a connection. But there is! If we can find the baby, maybe we can find Cade.”
The agent didn’t give any indication whether he agreed with Blair’s deduction or not. He just got back on the phone.
Frustrated and fearing further smearing of Cade’s name, Blair went into the kitchen and called Joe McCormick. He showed up at Hanover House just a few minutes later.
He got a briefing by the agent, then joined Morgan and Blair in the kitchen. “I’m with you, Blair. I don’t believe that Cade has anything to do with that kidnapping. Someone used his cell phone, then left it for us to find.”
Blair’s eyes were frantic as she moved closer to Joe. “Ann Clark is still the key. Maybe she’s the one who stole the baby. They didn’t have to keep him alive to use his phone. He could already be dead!”
The agent got off the phone and came into the kitchen. “We have an all-points-bulletin out on Chief Matthew Cade, and they’re getting a warrant for his arrest.”
“A warrant for him, but not for Ann Clark?” Blair shouted. “That’s absurd!”
But Morgan saw it another way. “No, it’s good,” she said. “Blair, at least there will be an all-out hunt for him.”
“What about the fifty thousand dollars?” Karen asked. “They demanded that. Said they would give me my baby back if I left it.”
Tavist shook his head. “I’m sorry, Miss Miller, but there aren’t any lockers at the bus station anymore.”
“What? Yes, there are. I’ve seen them!”
“They took them out after the September eleventh attacks. There was too much risk of someone planting a bomb in them. No, the caller knew that.”
Blair gave a bitter laugh. “That call wasn’t about ransom at all, but just a way of setting Cade up.”
The cop didn’t answer. “If they call back, Miss Miller, you demand some proof that they even have the baby, and that he’s alive.”
Karen moaned and fell against Morgan. “But they already told me what to do. My baby needs me!”
Morgan tried her hardest to comfort the inconsolable mother.
But the look in Blair’s eyes frightened her even more than the call itself. She was going to do something stupid, and Morgan knew she couldn’t stop her.
CHAPTER 55
The FBI considered Cade a criminal to be caught now, not a missing person who needed to be found. At least, that was the way it appeared to Blair. She sincerely hoped she was wrong.
But at least they had more than Cape Refuge’s tiny police force
searching for him. With the feds on the hunt, they would surely be able to find him soon.
When she arrived back at Ann Clark’s block that night, Blair half-hoped to see a crowd of FBI agents surrounding the place, searching it like the crime scene that it was.
But no one was there. Ann Clark was still free to do as she pleased.
This time Blair parked on the street where the back driveway came out and watched for anyone to come or go.
No one did.
She wondered if Cade and the baby could be in the same place.
She sat there for another grueling night, fighting sleep and hunger. Early the next morning, when the paperboy began delivering the newspapers to the driveways surrounding the park, Blair borrowed one and unrolled it. The headline stopped her heart.
SEARCH ON FOR POLICE CHIEF: ALLEGED INVOLVEMENT IN KIDNAPPING RING.
The reporter told that a ransom call had been made from Cade’s cell phone and that his sudden disappearance two weeks ago had spurred rumors of his whereabouts. It speculated that his credentials as a cop may have made it easier for him to get a female accomplice into the hospital to take the baby.
Furious, she rolled up the newspaper and threw it back on the driveway she’d taken it from, then headed back to Cape Refuge.
That was it, she thought. She was going to buy the Cape Refuge Journal if it took every dime she had. She’d call Jason Wheater tonight and tell him she would offer all of her savings as a down payment. He would draw up the papers as soon as possible, and she could have it up and running in record time. For the life of her, she would counter every allegation the Savannah Morning News had made about Cade today, and she would show the inconsistencies in the case and draw attention to the questions that still plagued her about his disappearance.
It might be the only hope Cade had left.
CHAPTER 56
Chaos reigned at Hanover House as they waited for the phone to ring again. Though the FBI seemed convinced that the caller had known there weren’t lockers at the Trailways station, Karen still hoped that the kidnapper had made a mistake and would call back to correct it.