The Candidate's Wife (21 page)

"What happened to those reporters?" Julia asked. "Are they still around?"

Adam nodded. "I requested that Dylan fill them in on the situation. This is all going to come out anyway, so we might as well make sure the press has the correct facts."

"But how did they even know where we were?"

"According to Dylan, Jenkins says he followed us down from the city. He lost us for a while, but he knew Cypress Point was your hometown, and he made a damn good guess as to where we were headed."

"And the Lookout?"

"Dylan used his radio to give instructions to Matt and Sean. Jenkins has a police scanner in his car, and he picked up the conversation." Adam grimaced. "I'm sure the TV cameras will show up any minute now."

Julia sighed, drained her coffee cup, and set it aside. "That might not be such a bad thing. Maybe the publicity will flush out some witnesses."

"I'm sure it will. And you know I'll use every ounce of influence I've got to find Danny." Adam settled a tentative arm around her waist. When she sighed again and leaned into his shoulder, he pulled her a little closer. "Meanwhile, why don't I take you to your mother's house? I'm sure you want to be with your family right now."

Her eyes, wide with alarm, quickly found his face. "But you'll stay with me? You won't leave?"

He heard the quaver in her voice, and it made his heart contract with pain. He shook his head. "I won't leave you, sweetheart. I promise."

She nodded, but as he escorted to the door, she clung to his arm as if she never wanted to let go. They stepped outside together. Though it was barely noon, threatening clouds blotted out the sun and cast a gray gloom over the parking lot.

They were barely halfway to Julia's station wagon when the reporters spotted them. Adam used his body to shield Julia from the brilliant lights used by the television crew on the scene. He waved the reporters away, ignoring their shouted questions. There would be time, later, to talk to the press. Right now, he needed to take care of his wife.

He opened the passenger door, waited while Julia climbed inside, then closed it behind her. As he slid into the driver's seat, a persistent blonde news anchor tapped on the glass. "Senator Carmichael! Would you care to comment on --"

Adam shook his head and frowned at her until she retreated. As he pulled out of the municipal parking lot, he was forced to stifle a chuckle. He'd never turned down an interview before, never.

"Even bad publicity's better than none at all," Tom Brannon was fond of saying, and Adam had always believed it. A month ago, he would have made the most of any opportunity to appear on television, especially the day before an election he might very well lose. Now, as he inched forward to avoid hitting the crowd of reporters, he realized he had no intention of turning this crisis to his political advantage. In fact, it was the furthest thing from his mind.

He pulled out onto the main street and headed for Julia's mother's house. Beside him, Julia slumped in her seat, her creamy skin marred by dark half moons under her eyes. Her luxurious black lashes, finally dry, brushed her cheeks as she let her eyes flutter closed. He couldn't even imagine what she must be going through at this particular moment. "How are you holding up?" he asked.

"Not too well," she admitted. She opened her eyes, but her gaze seemed unfocussed, almost dreamy. "I'm wracking my brain to think of what Frank meant by his 'secret place'." She shuddered, and the pink tip of her tongue swept back and forth over her dry lips. Under other circumstances, Adam would have considered the gesture unbearably erotic, but at the moment he felt only an ache of sympathy. "It's so terrible to think of Danny out there somewhere," Julia continued, "wondering when I'll come for him, maybe thinking I've abandoned him --" Her voice broke and became a sob.

Adam growled his displeasure as he eased the car to a halt at what appeared to be Cypress Point's lone traffic light. "Julia, he'd never think that. He knows how much you love him. All his life, you've been there for him. You've been mother and father to that kid."

"I know," Julia whispered. "But I'm also glad you're in his life now. He needs a man to look up to, a role model, someone to take him to museums, baseball games, fishing. . ." Suddenly, her expression changed. She sat up poker straight, her blue eyes flashing. "Of course! Oh, why didn't I think of it sooner?"

Adam shot her a questioning glance, glad to see the change in her demeanor but puzzled by her words. "Think of what?"

"Fishing. That's it! Even Frank's knife fits. Adam, I think I know where to find Danny!"

Julia's eyes widened as the answer exploded in her mind. It made perfect sense -- or she hoped it did. "Frank had a secret fishing spot somewhere up on the creek," she said, her thoughts racing ahead, the words spilling out almost faster than she could get her tongue around them. "He built a little shed there to store his gear. That was ten years ago, but he'd remember it. That's where he went to get away from it all, to be alone and think. It was his 'secret place'. Maybe he took Danny there. Oh, I know he did. I know that's it!"

"And you know where to find this shed?"

Adam sounded skeptical, but Julia knew she was right. She had to be right. Or was she going overboard, giving herself false hope? Her confidence faltered a little, but her voice still trembled with excitement. "Well, I think I do. Frank took me there once, but I didn't go again. I hated fishing." She frowned as she struggled to remember the long-ago expedition. "It's up Alona Creek Road, about a half-hour drive. There was a boulder on the side of the road, a reddish-brown rock shaped sort of like a bird. If it's still there, if we can find it. . ."

Adam reached over and took her hand. His warm, slightly roughened palm closed comfortingly around her fingers. "All right. Should I turn around and go back to the sheriff's office? Maybe they can get Dylan on the radio, and he can send a deputy out to look."

Julia shook her head. "What if I'm wrong? Or what if they can't find the rock, or the shed? No, we should. . .that is. . ."

"You want to look for it yourself" Adam gave her an understanding half smile, and Julia nodded. He shrugged and squeezed her hand. "Just tell me where to turn, sweetheart."

Julia felt a rush of hope, a quiet glow that helped her force back her fear and despair. They drove in silence for a few minutes. "Turn left ahead," she instructed, at last, "and then the stone was on the right side of the road."

Adam reached the turnoff, then urged the car up into the wooded hills. Julia twisted a lock of her hair around her index finger and watched the scenery from the passenger-side window. Every so often she caught a glimpse of the glittering creek as it ran parallel to the narrow, winding road. It rushed clear and shallow over pale gray rocks, tumbled white over low waterfalls, and then deepened to a cold green as it poured through the gorges. At other points the road left the creek and all Julia could see was dark patches of pine and Douglas fir, or banks of red-brown clay.

It was beautiful here, and peaceful, but on this day she couldn't enjoy it. Instead, she strained to remember exactly where Frank had taken her that day she'd gone fishing with him. It had been early still, and barely light, when they left home. She'd let him lead her through the woods until they came out on the silvery creek and the plywood-and-fiberglass shed Frank had built there. Would she even be able to find it again, by herself? If she did, would she find Danny, too? She could only pray that she would. She leaned forward, her gaze glued to the roadside.

Adam dropped her hand and began to stroke her back. Then his fingers moved higher and dug deep into the tense muscles of her shoulders. Julia sighed, a sound that mingled deep worry with the pleasure she felt at Adam's touch. Adam said nothing, only massaged her tight shoulders and stroked the
nape of her neck. It was so exactly what she needed that Julia felt like crying. She wanted to tell Adam that she loved him, to say the words out loud and make them real. But she couldn't take that risk, not now. Maybe after Danny was safe.

She tensed as the road narrowed still more, to a single lane, and the trees closed in tight around the strip of asphalt. "We're getting close," she said softly.

Adam navigated the unwieldy station wagon skillfully around the sharp curves. No familiar landmarks. Julia glanced at her watch. To her dismay, she saw that more than a half hour had passed since they first turned onto the creek road.

The hills east of Cypress Point were heavily forested, impassable in places. Dylan and his deputies could search the entire length of the creek, but how long would it take them to find the shed? Hours, days? And Danny, if he was out here, would be alone, cold, hungry. . . . She swallowed a rising sob, and then another.

Suddenly, a pale red stone caught the corner of Julia's eye. "Adam, stop!" she said. "I think that's it!"

He applied the brakes, then backed slowly down the hill. "That one there? Doesn't look much like a bird," he said doubtfully.

Dusty weeds hid most of the boulder, but Julia had to admit that Adam was right. She squinted at the boulder and imagined she could see a shape like a bird with a bald lump of a head and outstretched wings -- if she used gallons of imagination. "Well," she said, "it's been ten years. Maybe the wind and rain wore it down. I just don't know where else to look. If this isn't it. . . ."

"Well, it can't hurt to try," Adam said quickly. He pulled off onto the side of the road, parked the car, and got out. He rounded to Julia's side and opened the door. "Good thing we both wore jeans. Some of those brambles look lethal."

Julia couldn't have cared less about the tangle of vines and huckleberry bushes that barred the entrance to the shady pine woods between the road and the creek. She would have walked through fire to find her son. A few sticker bushes couldn't stop her.

Without a second thought, she plunged into the brush, then winced as a particularly fierce thorn stabbed through the denim of her jeans. Determined, she kept moving, until half a dozen trailing vines wrapped around her ankles and held her fast.

She tried to pick up her feet and found that, despite her best efforts, she couldn't move, not an inch in any direction. She threw a forlorn glance at the man behind her. "Adam? I think I'm stuck."

He chuckled, forged his way through the tangle, and swept her up in his arms. Julia gasped, then grinned as Adam bore her toward the trees. As she let her head fall onto his strong shoulder, she couldn't help thinking of the previous night, when he'd carried her to his bed, and what had happened after that. For a moment, she felt his mouth on hers again, the curve of his back and muscular buttocks under her hands, the rough sandpaper of his cheeks against her breasts.

As they reached the far side of the verdant barrier, she blushed and tried to push the steamy pictures from her mind. But, as Adam stood for a moment under the cool pine canopy with her still in his arms, she could almost taste the salt of his skin and remember the way she had arched against him in ecstatic delight. She stared up at Adam as a lacy pattern of light played over his patrician features. His tawny eyes darkened, and she knew he remembered, too. He tightened his grip. For a moment she thought he would kiss her.

Then Adam's face hardened, and he set her down abruptly on the carpet of soft brown needles and loamy earth. "Which way?" he asked gruffly.

Julia wobbled a little, her head swimming, then steadied herself. Disappointment and a new fear surged through her body. She turned away from Adam so that he wouldn't see her face. She knew she
could never hide her emotions. "South, toward the creek," she managed, barely choking out the words. "Follow me."

A stray branch whipped across her cheek as she led the way, but Julia barely felt it. Her throat was swollen with terror: terror for Danny, of course, but also fear that Adam had tired of her after just one night, that she had another of his flings and nothing more. He'd been wonderful all day, true -- sweet, supportive, concerned -- but not passionate in the least. She searched her memory and realized that he hadn't kissed her, not once, since he'd awakened her with the news about Danny.

As she stumbled on through the woods, Julia shook her head, trying to clear her mind of cobwebs. Adam didn't matter now. Her son was in danger. She needed to focus on Danny and only Danny. She frowned and forced herself to walk faster, until at last she broke free of the trees and found herself at the edge of the shimmering creek.

Julia glanced around, then let out a cry of dismay. "It's not here! It's the wrong place -- I don't see the shed --"

Grief and panic struck her with lightening force. She felt tears hot in her eyes and she knew she'd finally reached the end of her rope. Her shoulders shook as the sobs forced themselves up through her constricted throat.

Adam wrapped his arms around her. She could smell his cologne, spicy and masculine, on the coat she wore and on his neck as she briefly pressed her forehead against his collarbone, but she barely saw him through her tears. She had never felt fear like this before, a fear so deep and dark and overpowering that she knew she could easily let herself drown in it. There was no way out, no hope, nothing but uncertainty and the knowledge that this was, somehow, all her fault.

She tore herself out of Adam's embrace. She had to do something, anything. "Danny!" she screamed. "Danny!"

Her voice echoed over the water and along the treetops. No response. She shouted again, her fists clenched at her side, and then once more. Finally, she fell silent, her throat raw and dry as she closed her eyes in despair.