Dangerous Reunion Page 14

  Did it make her feel any better that the kidnapper had sneaked through the woods rather than boldly driving up to the house? Logic said it should, but it didn’t.

  Daniel pulled a pair of gloves and an evidence bag from his pocket and walked to the Bug. After tugging on the gloves, a bit of a job when every part of him was soaked with sweat, he picked up the cell phone and swiped the screen a couple of times. When he held it up to show Ben and Sam, even from a distance, Yashi could see the photograph there.

  She’d felt so bad yesterday morning when she’d gotten the text and the picture of Will. She had wanted desperately to see for herself that Lolly and Theo were all right. Now, she’d actually seen Theo, who was far from all right, and here was a picture of Lolly. Her blond hair was limp, huge strands straggling loose of the ponytail she wore. She stared defiantly at the camera, at least, with her one good eye. The other was blackened and swollen practically shut. The man took Mama and Daddy, and he hurt them...and it’s all her fault!

  Yashi’s knees wobbled, tears filled her eyes and she was pretty sure she was going to land hard on the ground when strong fingers wrapped around her upper arm. Not Ben, she instinctively knew, and since Daniel was still holding the phone, that left Sam. Through the blur, she saw his concerned face, and despite the rushing in her ears, she heard his somber voice.

  “Ben’s going to take you home, okay? You’re going to get something to eat, drink a lot of water, stay out of the heat, maybe rest a little. You’re our key to finding them, Yashi. We need you in fighting form. Daniel and JJ and I will handle things on this end, and Quint and Lois are keeping watch on the kids. Your only focus now is to help us find this guy. Got it?”

  She nodded.

  He walked her to the passenger side of Ben’s truck, where the door stood open, just as she’d left it. He boosted her onto the running board, waited until she was seated and buckled in, then squeezed her hand tightly. “We’ll find them, Yashi. Believe that.”

  She wanted to believe with all her heart. But... “If it comes down to a trade—”

  “It won’t.”

  “But if it does—”

  “It won’t.” His gaze locked with hers a long time before he squeezed her hand again, stepped back and closed the door. There were things he wasn’t saying, facts he didn’t want her thinking about, and she didn’t press him. If she gave herself a few moments to think clearly, those facts would come on their own. Somewhere in her brain were statistics on how often kidnap victims were released unharmed. On the odds of a kidnapper letting go victims who could identify him. On the risks of trusting a criminal who’d managed to successfully subdue, control and abduct two adults all on his own without leaving a single clue behind.

  A criminal who held such a powerful grudge against Yashi that he was willing to kill her family before he killed her.

  He wanted her dead or destroyed.

  And by God, she wanted the same for him.

  * * *

  “What do you want for lunch?”

  It had been a silent drive back into town. Ben was edgy. Violence made him that way. People getting hurt did, too. Seeing that picture of Lolly, her face distorted by the black eye, had left a hard knot in his gut. Lolly was truly one of the nicest people he knew. She was happy and wanted to share it with everyone. She always expected the best, always believed the best.

  And Yashi... In that instant before Sam caught her, Ben had been stricken by her grief. He’d never seen her so lost, so vulnerable. She was capable, independent, standing up for others as well as herself. When the victims of her cases had been too traumatized to be of much help, she used to tell them, You don’t have to be strong. I’ll be strong for you. Seeing her—not weak; he could never call her that—but not strong had shaken his image of her.

  Now she sat blankly in the other seat, her gaze unfocused, her shoulders rounded. “I don’t care.”

  “Today’s lunch special at the café is chicken and dumplings.” She loved chicken and dumplings but had never learned to make them. Why should she, she’d asked, when his mother did them so well?

  “All right.”

  That dull voice grated on his nerves, prompting him to go on. “And Mom won’t even mind that you look like you’ve been rolling in the gutter. Smell like it, too.”

  Slowly she turned to face him, insult sparking in her eyes. It sent relief gliding through him. “Oh, please. A gutter couldn’t possibly smell as bad as you and Theo and Booger did when you came out of the woods.”

  “Yes, but I—” Abruptly he stopped. I showered and put on clean clothes, he’d been about to say. Which very well might lead her to remark that he hadn’t offered her the same opportunity. Which would definitely lead him to remember all the times he’d showered after her, the bathroom steamy with all her amazing scents, or the times they’d showered together, or the times they’d done a whole hell of a lot more.

  He fiddled with the air-conditioning vent, making sure it was blowing directly on him, wishing he could blame the weather for the sudden rush of heat inside him. “What?” he asked to distract himself. “Dusty didn’t stink, too?”

  “It’s impossible for any female to stink as much as the male of the species.” She made a point of sniffing the air. “In fact, your truck is a bit ripe, and it’s not coming from me.”

  “Yeah, Booger kept farting all the way out to the house.” He could resist if he tried really hard, but he gave in and grinned. “The dog has forty times the number of scent receptors we do, and his gas was bad enough to make our eyes water, which means it should have been forty times worse for him. He didn’t even seem to notice the noxious fumes roiling about him.”

  “Maybe he has selective scent. His nose magnifies the scents that interest him and blocks out the ones that don’t.”

  “I wish I did.” He wrinkled his nose in her direction, and she finally cracked a smile. The tension holding his nerves taut released a little more. She was going to be all right.

  If they got Will and Lolly back safe. If they kept Yashi herself safe from this guy. If she got rid of the notion that she would trade herself for her cousins. Ben appreciated that she was willing to make such a sacrifice, but there was no way in this world he was letting her do it. If anything happened to her—

  His breath hitched, his grip tightening on the steering wheel, as his brain automatically cut off the thought. He forced himself to let it go, to say the words his subconscious didn’t want to admit even to itself: if anything happened to her, it would destroy him. Living without her was bearable, even though she saw other men, even though he saw other women, even though they weren’t together, because he knew she was there. Not in his life, but some other there, safe and happy and maybe harboring the same regrets he did. Maybe—

  “Are you planning to push that car out of the way?” Yashi braced herself with one hand on the dash as he hit the brakes. “Though I imagine a jury would overlook it when you told them, ‘My mom was serving chicken and dumplings.’”

  He waited for the vehicle ahead of them to turn before easing his foot back onto the gas pedal. “Next time you can just say, ‘Slow down.’”

  Next time...

  The lunch rush was over at the café. No one greeted them at the door, though his eldest sister’s voice called from the back, “Sit wherever you like.”

  A lot of Ben’s meals at the diner were taken in the kitchen, where he was related to most of the employees—an easy way to catch up on family news and avoid eating alone. The rest of the time, he was with his fellow officers, and they always shared a table in the dining room that faced the creek. With Yashi, they had taken the family dining room, claiming a need for privacy while they worked. Sometimes during those meals, they really had worked. Now he opted for a booth on the creek side. With the hour well past noon, the room was shaded, and the park across the stream offered a few distractions if they needed them.<
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  They were barely settled when a waitress greeted them as cheerfully as if she hadn’t already put in a full day on her feet. “How are you folks today? Enjoying this cool weather—Oh, it’s you.” His sister Emily swatted him on the shoulder. “What are you doing sneaking in the front door? You usually come through the kitchen.”

  “I don’t usually bring other people through the kitchen.”

  “Not true. Sam comes in the back. Morwenna comes in the back. That cute Detective Harper comes in the back.” Emily shifted her gaze to Yashi, looking her up and down. Without hesitation, she stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Emily Little Bear, and I’m fairly sure that nothing he’s said about me and my sisters could possibly be true, because we are the sweetest, kindest sisters in the world.”

  “I’m Yashi Baker, and that’s exactly what he told me. The sweetest, kindest sisters in the entire world.”

  “Aw, for saying that, you deserve an extra dessert.”

  “An extra?” Yashi asked. “I plan on stuffing myself on lunch and skipping dessert.”

  “Nobody gets out of here without dessert, and because you covered for my annoying big brother, you get two. And I’ll put them both on his tab.” Emily handed Yashi a menu—she was likely to use the extra one to swat Ben—but Yashi waved it away. “Let me guess—chicken and dumplings.”

  “Yes, please. With sweet tea.”

  Emily’s smile split her face. “Honey, I like you. Do you know how many people come in here thinking they can give me orders like it’s my job?” She made an outraged face and started to walk off, but Ben stopped her.

  “Hey, what about me?”

  Emily, a younger version of his mother, an older version of Toni and Mercy, rolled her eyes. “Let’s see, it’s Monday. Chicken-fried steak and mashed potatoes with gravy poured over all, glazed carrots and a dinner roll. You’re nothing if not predictable, Benjamin Bear.”

  He tried to put extra intimidation into his scowl, but she skipped away with a laugh. Across the table, Yashi was smiling just a little. It made her look like a sad, worried angel, and that made him feel bad, sad, angry, sorry, determined.

  “Benjamin Bear? Is that your family’s name for you?”

  “No. It’s the name of my teddy bear when I was little. He was a grown-up bear, with glasses and his own books, and I thought Benjamin sounded grown-up. I didn’t even know it was my real name until I started school.”

  “Aw, that’s so sweet. Where is he now?”

  He’d rather pretend he didn’t know, that the ragged bear had gone to toy heaven with all the other worn-out, broken or rejected toys from the Little Bear household, but he told the truth. “He’s on a shelf in Mom’s bedroom, waiting.” For Ben to get married, to have his first child, to give Benjamin Bear a new home. The bear and the giraffe belonging to George had once shared the shelf with loveys—his mother’s word, not his—belonging to his sisters and their other brother, Landon, but now they sat alone at opposite ends.

  Aunt Denise’s youngest daughter brought their drinks. After draining half of her tea, Yashi gazed out at the park, at kids on the playground, their moms taking cover in the shade or sunbathing on blankets nearby, then turned back. “So...what’s been happening since the last time I saw you here?”

  Her manner was casual, her tone friendly, but her eyes were still shadowed. He mimicked her with a shrug. “Let’s see... Toni had two daughters. Mercy broke up with her boyfriend while she was pregnant with her second son. Great-Aunt Weezer actually went on a date last weekend. That’s a scary thought.”

  That coaxed a hint of a smile. “Has your mother considered it might be time for her to start dating again?”

  “That’s even scarier than Great-Aunt dating.” Not that he would stand in her way if she wanted romance in her life. But his father had never been a steady presence—he’d come back only long enough to do his part in creating six kids—and he’d left for good not long after Mercy was born. For Ben’s whole life, Mary Grace Little Bear had been a mother, a daughter, a sister, a grandmother and a business owner, but she’d never been part of a couple, an available woman involved with a man.

  Yashi unrolled the silverware from the napkin and spread it over her lap. “Has anyone heard from George?”

  Ben’s features slid back into the familiar blankness. “No.” As the fourth of six children, George hadn’t liked being in the middle. He’d wanted responsibility but refused to accept it, coddling even when he was too old for it and attention any way he could get it. He’d been the one failing his classes, getting escorted home by police officers, drinking beer with his buddies and smoking dope late at night. After one spectacular argument that had included the entire family, he’d left home two days before his twentieth birthday and had never come back.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He smiled ruefully as Emily approached with their meals. “We’re all sorry sometime, aren’t we? That’s life.”

  * * *

  With her stomach full, her body tired and two pieces of chocolate silk pie in a plastic bag, Yashi was grateful to arrive at her house and find it looking exactly the same as when she’d left that morning: no mystery gifts left on the steps or the lawn furniture, no signs of an intruder, just its usual pretty, welcoming, cozy self. She wished she could turn the thermostat down to sixty, crawl into the bed in the loft under a mountain of quilts and sleep until next week, but she could sleep when Lolly and Will came home.

  Or, as her college roommate had always said, she could sleep when she was dead.

  It had been funnier back then.

  She unlocked the front door and crossed the threshold with none of the pleasure she normally found in the action. Leaving Ben to close the door, she headed up the stairs, grabbed clean clothes, then hustled back down to the bathroom. Stepping under the cool water made her breath catch in a good way, the dirt and grime rinsing away in a lather of lavender-scented scrub. For the first time since she’d left the house that morning, she felt revived, with a breath of energy that would get her through the next part of her day.

  It couldn’t possibly be as bad as the previous hours had been.

  Surely it couldn’t.

  Washed, dried, her skin rubbed with lotion and adorned with clean clothes, with her hair pulled back in a clip to keep the damp strands from her face, she exited the bathroom to find Ben comfortable in a chair, his attention on his cell. He looked bigger than life in her tiny house, which was fair, since he’d always been bigger than life in her estimation. She’d gotten an incredible opportunity with him, but she’d blown it, all for the sake of her career. For proving she was right, he was wrong and Lloyd Wind was guilty.

  But she’d been deemed wrong, and the state had paid Wind a fortune to compensate him for the error. She’d lost Ben and given up her career. For nothing.

  After sliding her feet into flip-flops and retrieving her laptop and a flash drive from the storage space beneath the landing step, she walked to the door, where Ben joined her. He inhaled deeply. “You smell better.”

  Such a lovely compliment it was, being told she didn’t stink. “I still feel like I’ve been rolling in the gutter.”

  “The trick is to not let it show.”

  She smiled faintly as she led the way outside and to the rear door of her office building. On her first day in court for the district attorney’s office, the DA had asked how she felt. Like I’m going to puke, she’d replied, and he’d laughed. We all feel that way sometimes. The trick is not to show it.

  She’d spent most of her life not showing it.

  The office was quiet, dimly lit, and felt as if she’d been away far longer than just this morning. She flipped on the hall lights, passed the bathroom and turned into the conference room. The table wasn’t antique, just old: oak, battered, scarred by kids with pen knives. She’d bought it at auction when a rural school had closed its doors. The oak chairs
had come from the same school, seats worn smooth from decades of accommodating staff’s butts. The one she typically used had come from the principal’s office.

  “How long have you been here?” Ben asked as he walked along, gazing at the frames on the wall: her college and law school degrees, drawings by clients’ kids, and photographs she admired.

  “A couple years.” She sat down and fiddled with her computer while he viewed the last photo. It was the only one from their time together: a peaceful shot of the ancient forest at Keystone. She’d whined so much about going that she was surprised he hadn’t left her behind. Wild nature stuff still wasn’t her thing, but she’d appreciated the hike once they’d started, and she’d shown him just how much when they got back to his house.

  Too bad she didn’t have a shot of that.

  After the computer booted up, she inserted the flash drive, and a list of files came up: one for each case she’d prosecuted. They weren’t official records, of course; those were the property of the DA’s office. But she’d been allowed to keep her work product when she left—research, notes, things of that sort—and that was enough to jog her memory.

  Before she could open a file, though, Ben spoke. “Why did you do it?”

  Her hand hovered in the air, trembling like a leaf at the leading edge of a tornadic wind. She watched it a moment before lowering it to her lap, clasping it tightly with her other hand, stilling it while the same quivering spread through her body. Her mouth was suddenly dry, her face hotter than it had been after two hours outside. She wished she’d grabbed a couple of bottled waters from the mini-refrigerator in the file room for her parched throat. Wished she was back in the shower with cool water to put out the fire.