MULTIPLE MOTIVES (The Kate Huntington mystery series Book 1) (23 page)

Skip paused for a moment, thinking. “Doubt it. He’s very honest, and loyal. And not really stupid so much as literal. Subtleties tend to go over his head. He’s not going to say Mr. Franklin did something that didn’t happen.”

“First names all around, Skip. Less time consuming.”

“Right, Kate. Lou’s not going to get it if Phillips just hints around. And if he gets too blatant, Lou might take a swing at the jerk for insulting his boss.”

“Phillips does seem to have that effect on people,” Kate said. “By the way, I never thanked you for saving me from getting arrested.”

“No problem.” Skip flashed her a grin, then took another big bite out of his sandwich. They ate in companionable silence for a few moments.

“So how’d a big guy like you end up with the nickname Skip?” Kate asked, then quickly added, “Sorry, I’m being nosy.” Her natural curiosity about people, that made her good at her job, sometimes got her in trouble socially.

Brushing slightly too long, brown hair back off his forehead, Skip replied, “No need to apologize. I get that question a lot. My full name is Reginald William Canfield, the third. Gramps was Reggie, my daddy was Bill, and my mother hated the nickname Trey. I guess when I was just a little babe, Skippy didn’t seem like such a bad idea.”

Kate swallowed her last bite of sandwich. “Okay,
Skippy
–”

“Now if you’re gonna use that information against me, you need to keep in mind I’m a lot bigger’n you,” he drawled, hazel eyes twinkling.

Kate grinned. “I’ll bet you had more than your share of schoolyard brawls over your name.”

“Oh yeah!”

She realized that for the last few minutes she’d forgotten to be tense. “Okay, you need some sack time, but Rose was pointing out we’re getting stretched a bit thin. Can you get comfortable enough to sleep on the recliner in the family room? To cover that side of the house.”

“I could probably sleep on a rock pile about now. But I wake up fast and hit the ground running, if need be. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing.”

“Okay, we’ll get everybody a bit refreshed and then…”

“Do you have a plan for what to do from here?”

Kate shook her head. “Best plan I can come up with right now is you all sleep while I pray.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Rob woke up on a cool floor. It only took him a moment to remember what had happened. He carefully lifted his head and looked around. His body was functioning better, his muscles actually listening to his brain.

The light from the window was brighter, midday maybe. Which meant he’d been here for at least a night and part of the next day. Liz would be frantic. He saw her in his mind’s eye, and then Kate looking over her shoulder, both of their faces twisted with worry.

Tears sprang to his eyes as a wave of loneliness swept over him. He felt a pain in his heart and a knot in his stomach that had nothing to do with the gnawing hunger he’d noted a moment ago. Now he understood why it was called home-
sickness
.

Gotta get a grip or I’ll never get out of here alive
.

His head still hurt, but not as bad. His back stung but most of the rest of the pain had subsided. His stomach felt like there was a rat in it bent on escape by chewing its way through his abdominal wall. And he was extremely thirsty.

He sat up slowly and pulled himself awkwardly up onto the side of the cot. His head spun but only for a few seconds. He looked across the room. About twelve feet away was another wall, a door in the middle of it. Where the doorknob should be, there was a deadbolt lock, the kind that has to be opened with a key.

After a moment, he was able to coordinate the signals from his brain to his muscles in order to stand up and stagger over to the door. He knocked on its wood surface. Solid. Noticing a peephole, he ducked down a little and looked into it, but saw nothing. Then he realized he was on the wrong side of it.

It was there so his captor could look in at him.

The window
.

He turned around slowly and studied it from across the room. At the top of the wall, just below the floorboard ceiling, it was about two feet wide and maybe nine inches high. Too small an opening to climb through even if he could get up there.

Could he break it? Yell to get somebody’s attention outside? Seemed doubtful. The window looked like the ones he remembered from his grandmother’s basement. A big block of glass the same thickness as a cement block, set into the wall to let light in but keep burglars out.

Rob looked down and noticed two objects on the floor, several feet from the door–an empty, metal bucket and a big china bowl next to it. A faint whiff of chicken emanated from the greasy liquid in the bowl, stirring up the rat in his stomach.

As it registered what the bucket was for, Rob realized he very much needed to utilize it. He did so.

Then he picked up the bowl. Shuffling carefully over to the cot, he sat down slowly. He didn’t want to spill one precious drop. He raised the bowl to his lips and cool broth slid down his parched throat. Tilting the bowl up further, he used his fingers to shovel noodles and little bits of chicken into his mouth. It was cheap, canned soup, but it tasted wonderful. The rat in his stomach settled down.

When the bowl was empty he put it on the floor next to the cot, then leaned his head back against the wall to rest for a moment.

~~~~~~~~

Kate woke with a start, her father shaking her shoulder.

“Katie girl,” he whispered. “Wake up, lass. I have me an–”

Skip sprang to his feet, pearl-handled pistol in his hand. When he saw there was no threat, the gun disappeared under his shirttail, tucked into his waistband at the small of his back.

Kate attempted to rub the grit from her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” her father said.

She glanced over at Liz. She was slumped at the opposite end of the sofa, but she was awake.

“I have me an idea, Katie–” Dan was interrupted again by tapping on the sliding glass door.

After checking to verify who it was, Skip let Mac in.

Rose came around the corner, silky, black hair hanging loose, still damp from the shower. The exhaustion in her face had been downgraded to just plain tired. Her uniform looked even worse for wear, since she now had slept in it.

Kate gestured everyone into seats and nodded to her father.

“Rosie lass,” he began. Rose winced but didn’t say anything. “I bin thinkin’ ’bout what you said, that the killer might find me a tasty bit of bait. Couldn’t we be turnin’ the tables on the bastard now and use meself to draw him out?”

Kate started to protest but was shocked into silence by a glare from Liz.

Rob’s voice echoed,
He’s an adult, Kate. His choice
.

Great, now I’ve got two men talking to me in my head.
Maybe she really was going crazy.

She decided to wait for Rose’s input. As a trained police officer, she was better qualified to assess the suggestion. Kate prayed she would find a fatal flaw in it.

Rose thought about it while she methodically twisted her hair into a tight bun. “Might work,” she finally said. “Go back to the area around the building. Killer may be waiting there expecting Kate to show up for work, or to look for Rob herself. You show a picture of Rob to passers-by.” Her eyes swept over Mac and Skip. “We hang back, keep a sharp eye on him.”

Skip and Mac were nodding.

Kate opened her mouth but Mac cut her off. “We ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to Uncle Dan, sweet pea.” His voice was uncharacteristically gentle.

She opened her mouth again, then abruptly closed it when a realization struck her. She hated it when they were overprotective of her, but here she was trying to keep her father from taking risks, a man who had survived sixty-eight years on this planet without her supervision.

As she was processing this disconcerting thought, Rose was saying, “Heck, we might even get lucky and someone will have seen something useful.”

“Okay,” Kate conceded defeat. “Dad shows Rob’s picture around. Skip and Rose follow.” She held up her hand as Mac started to protest. “They’ve had some rest. You haven’t, and you look it.”

She knew Mac would never agree to being excluded from the operation, and she wanted him there to help protect her father. But he was someone who stood out in a crowd when he
hadn’t
been awake for over twenty-four hours. “I was going to suggest that you watch from a parked car. Pretend you’re waiting for your wife or something.”

“That’s a good idea,” Liz said. “Three people following Dan around on foot would be a bit obvious.”

“How’s Ben doing?” Kate asked her.

“He’s on the mend. Said he could come back to work whenever we need him.”

“Good, call him and get him over here. He can be our guard. Mac, you got something in your arsenal that Dad can carry? My gun’s too big to put in his pocket.”

Mac nodded.

“Rose, go get your civvies from your trunk. Mac, wait a few minutes–we don’t want a parade attracting the attention of the officer outside–then get Dad a gun. Everybody reconvene in the kitchen in fifteen minutes. Scrambled eggs and toast all around, and no cracks about my cooking.”

~~~~~~~~

They were finishing their meal when a sharp rap on the front door made them all jump. They rushed into the living room, hoping for news of Rob.

Skip beat Rose to the door. He did the twitch-the-curtain routine, then opened the door.

Rose recognized the black officer on the porch. Calvin Young had his back to them, his eyes on the man standing on the sidewalk.

Ben, the bodyguard she’d met briefly on Saturday, was built like a grizzly bear, with dark hair and a beard to complete the image. He had a huge bottle of cough syrup tucked under his arm and was carefully holding his hands where the officer could see them.

Rose stayed well back, peering around Dan’s large frame, since she was now out of uniform while on duty. She’d gone through the academy with Calvin Young. She’d always liked him, and her respect for him went up another notch as she watched him handle the situation.

His gun was in his hand, extended down along his leg, his finger hovering near but not on the trigger. “Mrs. Huntington, this guy says he’s one of your private bodyguards reporting for duty?”

“That he is, Officer,” Kate said.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, sir.” Calvin holstered his gun.

“No problem, Officer. Reassuring to know you’re on the job.” Ben’s voice rumbled with phlegm.

Rose and Skip exchanged a look. She nodded and he headed for the door. Since his replacement had arrived with such fanfare, he could walk right out the front. One less person who had to sneak out the back and risk drawing Calvin’s attention.

Skip froze in the doorway. “Uh, oh, the press has arrived for their feeding frenzy.” He stepped back so the rest of them could see.

 News vans from most of the local stations were pulling into every available parking space near the house.

“I’ll do my best to keep them at bay, ma’am,” Calvin said quietly.

Kate thanked the officer. Skip left ,and she closed the door behind him.

The Franklins’ landline rang. Kate raced into the family room and grabbed the portable out of its charger. She listened for a moment, then her face hardened. “No comment.” She disconnected.

It immediately rang again. They dared not ignore it since it could be the kidnapper or Rob calling. As Rose followed Mac out through the back slider, she heard Kate say, “No comment. We need to keep this line open.”

Twenty minutes later they were in position to begin what Skip had dubbed Operation Bait and Switch.

Dan walked up and down the sidewalk in front of Kate and Rob’s office building, stopping people to show them a snapshot of Rob and asking in a booming voice if they’d seen the lad, who was a friend of his daughter’s.

Skip and Rose followed at a distance on either side of the street, posing as just another shopper or office worker on a break. Their eyes constantly scanned the people near Dan. Mac sat in a parked car at one end of the block pretending to read a paper while his gaze never left Dan.

As Rose had coached him to do, Dan periodically went into the small park across from the building and asked anyone there to look at his picture. Then he sat down on a bench and hung his head down in apparent frustration and fatigue, the perfect inattentive target. Skip would disappear into the nearby bushes while Rose pretended to be strolling across the park, some distance away but on an angle where she could watch Dan out of her peripheral vision.

~~~~~~~~

Kate hung up on a reporter.

“Should we tell the media what’s going on?” Liz asked, desperation in her voice. “Maybe go on TV and plead that the kidnapper let Rob go?”

Kate sat down beside her on the sofa. “I’m not sure that would do much good–”

The phone rang again. Yet another reporter. This one was a bit pushier than most. Before she’d finished her line, he said, “But the public has a right to know how the wife is holding up.”

She was about to lash back with an angry retort when the phone beeped in her hand and then went dead.

Kate stifled the bubble of laughter in her chest, afraid it could all too easily turn into hysteria. She leaned over and put the phone back in its base. At least they would get a few minutes’ reprieve while it recharged.

The doorbell rang. She got up to answer it, Ben following her. She stood back and nudged the curtain aside to peek out. Ben nodded in approval.

Officer Young was standing on the porch again, gun holstered but his hand on its butt. A rotund middle-aged man in an expensive business suit was standing at the bottom of the steps. Kate opened the door.

“Ma’am, his ID checks out. He said he’s–”

“I know. He’s Mr. Franklin’s law partner. Hello, John. Come on in. Thanks, Officer Young.”

John Bennett waited until she’d closed and locked the door, then he took both of her hands in his. “How’s everybody holding up, Kate?”

“About as well as can be expected. Liz is in the family room.” She led the way.