Blackmail (15 page)

T
he rain came down in sheets, washing Lagniappe clean.

Sadie ran a mental list of things she had to accomplish this Tuesday as she drove in to work. The long-awaited rain splattered against the windshield. She could only pray all the evidence had been gathered from the latest facility sabotage.

Hiding under the shelter of her umbrella, Sadie rushed into Vermilion Oil.

“Nasty out there, isn't it?” The receptionist handed Sadie a stack of paper towels.

“
Merci.
It's coming down in different directions.” She blotted her skirt and blouse, not sure how much protection the umbrella had provided. She tossed the napkins in the trash, closed her umbrella and left it in the stand, then smiled quickly at the receptionist as she made her way to the elevators.

Georgia met her in the hallway. “Only a few die-hard media cats showed up this morning. I told them we had no new information since your statement of yesterday. I think standing out in the rain discouraged them from hanging around.”

Sadie chuckled and put her purse and briefcase on her desk. “Yeah, it's torrential out there.” She took a napkin and swiped the raindrops on her purse. “I heard the sheriff's pulled all his deputies to work the case now. Maybe they'll get a decent lead.”

“Oh, an Ethan Hebert phoned you about ten minutes ago. He needed information about his pension benefits.”

“I can't help him. Direct him to Human Resources.”

“I already tried that. He said he needed to talk to you.” Georgia set a cup of coffee on Sadie's desk. “Said he also needed to talk to you about the sabotages.”

Sadie froze and stared at her assistant. “What'd you tell him?”

“I told him I'd take his name and number and have you return his call, which he refused, saying he'd call you back later, then I called the sheriff.”

“What'd the sheriff say?”

“That they'd check it out, see where the call originated from. Did you know the office phones are tapped?” Georgia shook her head. “Have been since the FBI got involved in the case.”

“I didn't know, but it doesn't surprise me.”

“Hopefully the sheriff will get some answers and let us know something.”

“I hope so.” Sadie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Come find me when I'm not at my desk if he calls again, though. Maybe he does have something important to say.”

Georgia nodded. “You got it. I'm going to go over the numbers of producing wells, just in case you need the figures for another press release.”

“Merci.”
Sadie watched her assistant leave, the enormity of her job weighing down her limbs. She hadn't heard from Deacon yet this morning. Or Lance. Was it too much to hope that the two had worked out their differences? Probably.

The phone rang. “Sadie Thompson.”

“Ms. Thompson, this is Ethan Hebert.”

“Yes, my assistant told me you'd called. I'm sorry, but I have no control over the pension benefits.”

“So I heard.”

“She told me you'd mentioned something about the sabotages against our facilities.” It was a statement, but she'd deliberately made it come out as a question.

“I don't know if you know Jack Kinnard or not.”

She tingled all over. “I know the name.”

“Couple of months ago, he was talking to some of us who were laid off. All mad. Said we had to send a message to the company. Said any of us that were serious about making our point to Mr. Wynn should come by his place later.”

Every muscle in Sadie's body tensed. “Did you? Go by his place?”

“Yeah. I wanted to hear what he was thinkin' 'bout.”

“And?”

“He was talkin' crazy. That we should mess up the wells to make Mr. Wynn realize he needed us.”

Sadie gripped the phone tighter. “Was anything planned?”

“I don't know. I thought he was just talkin', but I didn't want to be no part of it, so I left. I never heard anything else.”

“Did you tell anyone about this?”

“Nah, didn't seem like anything more than talk, until I heard about the facilities.”

“Why haven't you called before?”

“Been working offshore for the last three weeks. Just got back in town last night and caught up on the news.”

“Thanks for letting me know, Mr. Hebert.” She hung up the phone and lifted it right up again. She tried to intercom Deacon, but got the busy signal. Excited, she switched over to the phone again and punched in the number for Jon's cell phone. After three rings, the call was dropped in voice mail. She left a hasty message, then disconnected.

Her intercom buzzed. Probably Deacon now. She lifted the receiver. “Sadie Thompson.”

“You have a delivery down here.” The receptionist's voice carried a teasing-type tone.

She didn't have time for the media's tricks. “What kind of delivery?”

“The kind every woman loves to get.”

Flowers? Candy? “I'll be right down.” She made her way down the hall and into the elevator. Who would send her something?

Jon.

Her smile widened as she crossed the floor to the receptionist's station. A large bouquet of fresh flowers sat atop the counter. “Oh, my…are these for me?”

The receptionist matched her grin. “That's what the envelope says. Are you holding out on us about a secret romance?”

Warmth spread through her stomach up into her chest. “No. This is a surprise.” She grabbed the vase. “I'm going to take these to my office.”

“What? And not let me know who your admirer is?”

Sadie was saved from having to answer by the phone ringing. She quickly headed back to the elevator. Leaning in, she inhaled deeply. They were beautiful flowers and such a big arrangement! Her heart stuttered. They had to be from Jon. How sweet and thoughtful.

Back in her office, she set the vase on the work table adjacent to her desk. Her entire office would smell like a field of wildflowers. She loved it.

With trembling fingers, she gently removed the envelope from the plastic holder. She turned it to read the outside. Her stomach tightened as her heart raced. No florist name. Only her name.

In black block letters.

She collapsed into her chair and sank back into the smooth kid leather, gripping the envelope. No, it couldn't be. The florist had to have just used a blank envelope by mistake.

Only one way to find out.

She opened the envelope and pulled out the card.

The card fell to the desktop. Her heart beat loudly. Her entire body shook.

In one fluid movement, she shoved the vase of flowers into the trash can and reached for her purse.

Georgia rushed into the office. “What's wr—” She spied the flowers in the trash and stared at Sadie. “What's happened?”

Sadie snatched the card and envelope and shoved them into her purse. “I have to go. I have to leave now. Let Deacon know and handle anything that comes up.” She moved around the desk toward the door.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No.” No one could help her. Except…

Jon.

She flipped open her cell as she stepped into the elevator and dialed his number.

“Hello.”

Just hearing his voice made her break. Tears ran freely down her face. “Jon. They sent me flowers.”

“Sadie? Who sent you flowers?”

“
They
did. At work. Said they'd warned me.”

“Where are you now?”

“On my way to the school.”

“No, let me check there since the school will be letting out soon. You go home and wait for him.”

“Okay. But what if they've g—”

“Don't think like that. Just go home and wait for Caleb. I'll be there soon.”

She shut the phone and stepped off the elevator. After drying her eyes, she stopped at the receptionist's station. “Did you happen to recognize the florist logo on the van that delivered those flowers?”

“Ah, someone wants to remain anonymous, huh?” The receptionist shook her head. “Sorry, I was on the phone when he walked in with them.”

“What about when he left?”

“I was calling you and admiring the flowers. Besides, it's raining so hard out there who could see?”

“Thanks.” Ignoring her umbrella in the stand, Sadie rushed to her car. She nearly slipped on the slick pavement in her haste. Jerking open the door, she tossed her heels onto the passenger-side floorboard and slid behind the steering wheel. Water rivulets
dripped from her hair into her lap. She closed her eyes, tears falling again.

Lord, please let Caleb be okay. Keep him safe.

 

Blackmailers sending flowers?

The danger slammed against Jon as he sped along the wet roads to the school hosting the summer program. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, leaning forward. The air from the defroster flared against his face. He blinked several times, focusing on the road ahead. What a time for the rain to decide to come. Weeks of sweltering heat with only hints of rain and today, of all days, it decided to downpour.

What seemed like an eternity later, he turned into the circle in front of the school, behind the buses. Jon ducked against the pounding rain as he ran into the office.

The lady at the desk glanced up. “My, someone forgot their umbrella, didn't they?”

He didn't have time for niceties. He flashed his probation officer's badge. “I need to know if Caleb Frost was in attendance today.”

“Certainly.” The woman pushed glasses on her nose and clicked on the computer keyboard in front of her. “Yes, sir. He was here today.”

“What bus number does he ride?”

She typed more. “Number eighty-three.”

“Thank you.” He turned and ran back to the circle. Two buses were already on the main road. The last two were inching up the circle. Jon ran to catch them. He moved beside the last bus, squinting to catch the number.

Twenty-four.

He sprinted forward, ignoring the rain as he gained on the first bus. Pumping his legs faster, he moved alongside it as it slowed for the turn.

Number sixty-four.

He'd missed it. Jon turned and ran back to his car and seeped
inside. He was drenched through and through, but it mattered not. He cranked the engine and pressed hard on the accelerator. Tires spun on the wet pavement, the end of the car fishtailing. Jon straightened the nose and eased off the accelerator. The car moved to the road.

Caleb had to be on his bus, heading toward Sadie's. He'd arrive safe and sound and Jon would find both brother and sister at the house. The blackmailers were just messing with her.

Please, God, let it just be that.

He reached Sadie's street and caught sight of the flashing red lights on bus number eighty-three in front of Sadie's house. Two boys got off. Neither one was Caleb. The lights went off on the bus and the vehicle lumbered down the road. The two boys moved toward the opposite end of the street, slowly enough that it was evident they didn't mind the rain.

Jon pulled up alongside them and rolled down the window. Didn't matter that rain poured in—he'd already soaked the velour seats. “Hey, isn't Caleb Frost normally on that bus with you?”

“Yeah.” One of the boys hitched his backpack higher on his back.

“But he wasn't on it today?”

“Who are you?” the other boy asked.

Jon fished out his badge and flashed it. “Now, was he on the bus today?”

“Was this morning, not this afternoon.”

Gut clenching, Jon nodded. “Thanks.” He rolled up the window and whipped into Sadie's driveway.

She stood on the porch, looking like a drowned rat. “He wasn't on the bus, was he?” Her voice quivered.

He ran to the porch and took her in his arms. “No, but he was at school today, all day. So they didn't have him when they sent you the flowers.”

“But they knew school would be getting out soon and they'd grab him.” Tears mixed with the rain on her face. “They had it all planned.”

“But we know they haven't had him long.” He kissed the
crown of her head. “Sadie, we have to call the sheriff. Time is of the essence.”

She stiffened in his arms for a moment, then went slack. “Okay.”

The dejection in her voice ripped the heart from his chest.

He led her into the house. She went to grab some towels while he made the call to the sheriff. She returned as soon as he hung up the phone.