Perilous (21 page)

As Megan turned to go, Mrs. Reynolds smiled at Jaci. “After you’ve all showered and eaten, we’ll sit and talk. There’s no rush, so try not to worry right now.”

When Amanda exited the shower half an hour later and Jaci got a turn, she felt all of her troubles disappear under the hot water. The pressurized liquid washed away the dirt and grime. She wasn’t aware how long she was in there, but then Sara was banging on the door, yelling at her to get out. Reluctantly she turned off the water. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around her, relishing the softness as she pressed it to her face.

“Here,” Megan said, greeting her at the door and handing her a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. “Put these on. And here’s a pair of underwear. And I didn’t know if you needed them, but I got a couple of sports bras, just in case.”

Jaci put on the clean clothes, shielding herself behind the white towel. “Those dirty clothes are fit to be burned.” She pulled the t-shirt on over her head and sighed. “This feels wonderful.”

Megan grinned. “Go eat breakfast.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve eaten. I’ll stay and give Sara her clothes.”

Jaci smiled. “Thanks.” She pushed a hand through her wet hair and crossed between rooms.

Neal and Ricky were watching TV at the small round table. Amanda lounged on the bed, eyes glued to the set.

“Where’s everyone?” Jaci asked.

“Mr. Reynolds took them to the pool,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “Go ahead, eat.”

Jaci helped herself to the bowl of fresh fruit in the middle of the table. “Something’s different.”

She squinted at Neal and Ricky. “I can’t smell you guys. Is this what boys are really like?”

“No,” Ricky snorted. “This stage doesn’t last long.”

His eyes lingered on her, and she felt her face grow warm. “Well, I like it.”

Mr. Reynolds and the younger children returned from the pool.

“Spencer,” he said, tossing his wet towel over a chair, “take your little sister into the other room and find a good movie to watch. Get Pay Per View if you want.”

“No problem,” Spencer said enthusiastically. “Let’s go, Cowgirl.”

Megan stayed with her parents. Mr. Reynolds closed the door and pulled a chair over to the bed. He flipped it around backwards and straddled it.

“Okay, gather round. Let’s talk.” He ran a hand over his grizzled face. “It’s been a busy night and morning for me. First, I called my supervisors and told them what you told me. From there, several things happened at once. Last night they went to your homes and found that all the phones were bugged.”

Sara had been right. They had probably bugged the phones as soon as they had realized who they’d kidnapped.

“They debugged them and reassured your families that you’re okay. The police department in Rome was already under investigation, due to the foresight of an out-of-state detective. The FBI had one witness saying you three had been in the station, but there were no records of any of you ever having been in New York, and several officers were taken into custody for questioning.

“When you came into our care yesterday, the officers in Rome spilled the beans, naming a contact in Sweden, Pennsylvania. The FBI arrived at the Sweden police department about twenty minutes ago. The guy knew his cover was blown, and he took out two police officers before shooting himself. I was notified five minutes ago.”

Mr. Reynolds paused a moment to give that a chance to sink in. “Everything this officer had has been quarantined. His phones are being monitored and his house is being searched as we speak. Given what you’ve told us, they are looking for anything to link him to The Hand. We should know what they find in the next two hours. We believe the officers in Rome were acting under the direction of their superior in Sweden, not knowing he worked for The Hand. But we haven’t ruled them out.

“What it boils down to is that you can’t go home yet. The danger isn’t over until we have The Hand. And we may need you to help us find him. So tomorrow evening, a helicopter from the FBI is flying to the hotel and you will be put into FBI custody.”

“We can’t see our families?” Sara asked, her voice tight.

“Not yet. First, you’ll see doctors at the FBI safe house. Then we’ll make arrangements to get you in touch with your families.”

The nightmare wasn’t over yet. They wouldn’t be going home any time soon.

Jaci wondered if she should mention that The Hand had known her father. That he was the Carcinero. She wondered if that name would mean anything to Mr. Reynolds.

There was just so much she didn’t understand. She didn’t want to let something slip and put her family in danger.

“Will we be safe?” Sara reached over to clasp Neal’s hand.

Mr. Reynolds nodded. “I personally guarantee it. I’ll be overseeing your custody arrangements.”

“What about what we did in New York?” Ricky asked, an edge of nervousness creeping into his tone. “I mean, we broke the law. I stole a car, and then—we shot a policeman.”

Jaci flinched.

“Those crimes have been absolved. In fact, they are being removed from police record. Only the FBI will have them now. We’re still trying to ascertain if you boys are in enough danger to place into custody. Our other choice is to turn you back over to the state of New York.”

“No!” Sara cried. “They’re my brothers. You can’t take them away from me. They have to come with us. I need them.”

“Yeah,” Ricky said. “We want to be with the girls. With our sister.”

“I can’t promise that. For now you’re together. We’ll see about later.”

“What happens next?” Amanda asked.

“Today you stay here with us. Stay inside, out of sight, and just relax. Tomorrow, you go into hiding. Any other questions?”

When no one said anything, Mr. Reynolds patted his wife’s knee and stood up. “Well, that’s that.” He smiled at them and went into the other room.

“Well,” Mrs. Reynolds said, handing the baby to Megan. “I guess there’s not much else to do now. Does anyone want anything? A book, a drink, a movie?”

Jaci shook her head. “I’m good for now, thanks. Thank you for everything your family has done for us.”

Neal pulled his chair over to the bed and leaned toward the three girls. “Hang in there. You’re through the worst of it.”

Jaci gave him a grateful smile. Such a protector. Neal was their guardian.

“We’re safe now,” Ricky grinned, still sitting at the table. “Good job, everybody.”

“Tomorrow we start a new adventure,” said Jaci, a flicker of optimism growing inside her.

“Jaci, every day you spend with me will be an adventure,” Ricky said, giving her a teasing grin. He grabbed the remote control. “But today, we enjoy indoor plumbing and cable television.”

She laughed and hit him with a throw pillow.

October 23

Idaho Falls, Idaho

Carl reclined in the above-ground hot-tub at his and Kristin’s one-story house. The jar of pickled watermelon rinds that Kristin had surprised him with sat on the plastic table next to the pool. An orange and purple sunset lit up the darkening sky.

Kristin rested drowsily against his shoulder, and he closed his eyes. He forced himself to relax. This was his first day off in weeks. It felt undeserved and wasteful.

Kristin glanced over at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing.” He smoothed back her almond-colored hair. “I should’ve called the FBI. Day off or no, when they didn’t get back to me, I should’ve called them.”

“Sweetheart.” She pulled away and gave him a small smile. “You’ve put your heart and soul into this case. You need a break. It’s not like the case is resting. Everyone’s looking, listening, watching. There’s nothing you can do right now. The girls will be found.”

He stared out across the manicured yard. The mosquitoes were gone, a chilly wind whipping through the air. “I suppose you’re right.”

His phone on the patio table buzzed. Carl got out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist. He caught the phone right before it buzzed off the table. Office.

Normally, he hated seeing that word on his day off. Today, he felt a stirring of excitement. “Detective Hamilton speaking.”

“Carl.” It was Chief Miller. Carl glanced at the clock on the wall. Just after seven at night. This was important, or the chief wouldn’t be at the station.

“Yes?”

“I need you here now.”

“What is it? Is it the girls?”

“Bring yours and Kristin’s phones.”

Odd request. Carl noted how he didn’t answer the question. “Be right there.”

He hung up, jittery. “Kristin, something’s happened. I have to get to the station. And I have to bring our phones in.”

She pulled herself from the pool, shivering, and slipped into a robe. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate. It’ll be ready when you get back.”

Not a word of complaint. Carl felt a surge of appreciation for this woman who supported his mood swings and ambitions. He gathered her into his arms and buried his face in her damp hair.

“I love you.”

She giggled and snuggled into his embrace. “I thought you had to go?”

“I do.” He stepped back and hurried across the patio. “But I’ll be back.”

An officer took their phones as soon as he got to the station. Somewhat puzzled, Carl followed the chief into his office.

“Now, just to clarify, I’m not in trouble, am I?” He felt a bit nervous.

“No. We don’t think you’re phones have been tapped, but we’re switching out the ID chip just in case.”

“Tapped?”

“Yes. The FBI called about half an hour ago.”

Carl leaned forward, gripping the desk. “I almost called them. How did the raid go? What did they find?”

“The raid went as planned. They took the entire station into custody, but only two of the officers appeared to be hiding anything. They still have them in custody.”

Carl released a breath. “I guess they don’t have any proof, other than Betty’s testimony and my suspicions.”

“Didn’t.” The chief gave a tight smile. “They do now.”

Carl studied the gray-haired man in front of him. “They found them.” That had to be it. Only finding the girls would prove that the police were lying.

Miller’s smile widened. “An FBI agent came across them at a grocery store in New York yesterday afternoon. He has them in a hotel with his family. The FBI is arranging an escort.”

Carl jumped to his feet. “I’ll fly out right away. They’re going to need security to get them back here.”

“Carl.” The chief’s voice had a note of warning in it, and he lifted a hand.

“What is it?”

“Based on what the girls have told the FBI, he believes they’re not out of danger yet. They’re not coming home. In fact, what I’ve just told you is top secret. Only you and their parents know they’ve been found. I just thought you ought to know—before I took you off the case.”

The words hit Carl like a fist to his head. “What? You’re taking me off?”

“Your job is done. They’ve been found. The FBI can handle it from here. Besides, I’ve got two new cases for you.”

The chief dropped two file folders on the desk. “First: The Hand. Based on the girls’ suggestion, their families’ landlines and cell phones were checked for bugs. Somehow, The Hand managed to bug every one of the landlines. Which means The Hand has a hornet’s nest of associates. I want you to find this man and destroy his hive.”

“Ah.” Carl nodded and pulled the file on top toward him. “That’s why you took my phone.”

“Yes. We keep a constant sweep of the landlines in the station but not our cell phones. So far, we’ve seen no indication that The Hand knew you were on the case. All he has to do is know your cell phone number to tap it. If he finds out you’re on his tail, he’ll get your number. So keep yourself a secret.

“Second: Mr. Rivera. Find out where that man went. You’ve got all the search warrants you need to tear this so-called business apart. I want to know what he’s doing. Is it drugs? Weapons? Politics?”

Carl took the second folder. “You got it. So the police in Rome. What there?”

Miller waved a hand. “You know how the FBI is. They don’t tell if they don’t have to. But it appears we had a bad egg in Pennsylvania sending out orders to the Rome department. The FBI found a fax in the trash that had been sent on the heels of our own, instructing the police to bring the girls to Pennsylvania if found.”

Carl stood up, the two folders under his arm. “Well. I’m very happy they’re safe. Can I tell Kristin?”

“If you’re sure she won’t tell anyone. We expect The Hand to show himself a little more as he tries to find them.”

“Right.” Carl patted his assignments. “I’ll be here in the morning to start these cases. Now, I’m going home to enjoy the rest of my day off.”

***

Acknowledgements

Since this book has been more than…well, a decade in the making, my list of people to thank goes on quite a ways.

But to keep it simple, I would like to thank:

Julie Frauenthal, for asking for each new chapter as soon as I’d gotten it typed up in the 8th grade.

Ada Wax, my junior high English teacher who had more faith in me than I could have paid her to have.

The Fayetteville and Springdale police departments, especially William Turnbow, Paul Shepard, and Jamie Fields, for all the questions they put up with.

Mary Gray and David West, my partners in crime, for pumping me up and giving me fantastic ideas.

My family, but especially my husband and children, for putting up with a mentally absent mom and being excited about her hobby called writing.