Sinking down on the sofa, Julia rested her head against the cushioned arm. She was still plagued by her earlier uneasiness, now coupled with the tight ache that resulted from listening to Connor's message. She wished she could talk to him now. And not only because she wanted to know what those major issues were—whether they dealt solely with Brian or spilled over onto the two of them—but because she still felt so out of sorts, just as she had since getting his phone call the night before. Maybe if he filled her in on some more of the details, her apprehension would subside.
Then again, maybe not.
* * *
25
April 14, 7:35 A.M.
Stowe, Vermont
Nancy's head lolled about, and she fought to grab hold of consciousness. It hovered just out of reach, crawling into her head in increments, only to slip away just as quickly. During that time, day faded into night, and night somehow transformed into day.
What time is it? she wondered groggily, again battling the effects of the drug.
Remember. Try to remember.
She was tied to a chair. Her arms were bound tightly behind her, and her muscles were cramped from being forced into that position. Her legs were also bound, a thick piece of rope twined around them to anchor them to the legs of the chair. And she was gagged, the cloth strip tied around the back of her head, the material biting into the sides of her mouth.
Why was she so weak and out of it that she couldn't even try to free herself?
A flash of memory. The man in the ski mask, the one who'd attacked her, he'd given her something. She remembered him shaking her awake long enough to command her to drink. Whatever she'd drunk, combined with the stuff she'd inhaled when he first grabbed her, was strong.
God. Brian.
For the dozenth time, she tried to call his name, her voice emerging in a hoarse croak from beneath the gag. Still, the sound was audible enough. Brian would have answered her if he were there—and if he could. Maybe he was tied and gagged in the other room.
Her maternal instincts told her otherwise. Brian wasn't in the ski lodge. Whoever had drugged her had also kidnapped her son.
With a surge of fear and adrenaline, she began struggling at her bonds, desperate to free herself. She had to get out of there. To call for help. To find Brian.
The bonds wouldn't budge.
Whimpering, Nancy collapsed against the back of the chair. Tears welled up in her eyes, slid down her cheeks.
Where was Brian? What had they done to him? He was obviously terrified. Was he also hurt? Had they contacted Stephen so he could give them whatever they wanted for the safe return of his son?
They. That son of a bitch Walker and whoever he had working for him. Those filthy bastards had taken her child.
The drug was doing its job again, dragging her into mental oblivion. Her body was too damned weak to fight it. Her eyelids drooped, and her head sagged forward.
A flash of the man in the ski mask darted through her mind. The whole thing had happened so fast. She'd scarcely had time to glance up before he grabbed her.
But in that brief instant...
His eyes. She knew those eyes.
She'd seen them many times before.
8:30 A.M.
Brian heard the crunching sound of tires on gravel, followed by the slamming of a car door.
The man in the mask was coming.
His entire body tensed, and he began shaking.
He knew he should be brave, not act like a wimp, but he couldn't help it. He was scared. The trailer was dark and creepy. It had gotten darker and creepier as the night wore on, and he'd heard weird noises coming from outside. He told himself it was just animals, but it sounded more like monsters. Or aliens.
He'd gladly have taken on both if it meant getting away from that man.
Footsteps plodded through the mud, neared the trailer.
Brian stared at the door, his eyes wide with dread.
Was the man coming to bring him food or to hurt him? Why had he taken him to begin with? And why had he tied up his mom? Not just tied her up, made her drink some stuff that had put her to sleep?
The ropes hurt a lot. His whole pitching arm was fuzzy, as if there were pieces of sand stuck in it. His legs felt the same way. And his mouth was sore from the handkerchief he'd managed to spit partway out.
He felt tears seep out of the corners of his eyes. He missed his parents. He wanted to go home.
The door to the trailer swung open. The man in the ski mask walked in.
"Hey, Brian." He walked over, squatted down beside the chair, a no-nonsense look in his slitted eyes. "This is going to be quick. I've got someplace I have to be. So be a good kid and don't fight me." He reached into his pocket, and Brian froze, waiting for him to pull out a gun. This was the part where the victim got whacked. Just like in his new computer game.
He braced himself for the bullet.
Instead, the man whipped out a bottle of Gatorade and a snack-pack box of Frosted Flakes. "Breakfast time." He reached for Brian's gag. "No yelling. Just eat, drink, and stay put. Okay?"
Brian nodded. He was too thirsty, too hungry, and too scared to disobey.
He just silently followed instructions.
The man's voice was low and kind of hoarse, as if he were trying to disguise it. But Brian recognized it anyway. He'd heard it before, a whole bunch of times.
He knew just who it belonged to.
10:15 A.M.
Julia hadn't slept a wink.
All night long, she'd tossed and turned, troubled by the elusive feeling that something wasn't quite right.
Over her second cup of coffee, she realized what it was.
The timing. It just didn't ring true.
She'd given Connor her rabbit's foot at eight-thirty Tuesday morning. He'd clearly been touched by the gesture. Like Julia, he knew it would lift Brian's spirits tremendously. By the time she'd had dinner with him ten hours later, he'd seen Brian. He'd specifically said so. In fact, he'd gone on to say how bad he felt that Brian looked so washed out, that he had an ear infection and was on an antibiotic.
So why hadn't he given him the rabbit's foot? Why would he hold on to it for a day, even if he didn't know that Brian was going away, when it would definitely have brought a smile to his nephew's lips?
He wouldn't have.
And there was another thing that was bugging her. Something Greg had said. She hadn't given it much thought last night She'd been too upset over Brian not having her good luck charm. But now, it struck her as she replayed the conversation she'd had with Greg. He'd said something about Cliff Henderson needing to get something out of his car relating to a due diligence matter they were conducting for the mayor.
Could that matter involve Philip Walker? He was certainly the most pressing due diligence matter on the mayor's plate. Was Greg privy to more confidential details than he'd been able to discuss? It made sense. He was the city manager, and he'd worked with Mayor Stratford for years. And Cliff Henderson was the mayor's attorney. Why wouldn't Stephen Stratford elicit their help?
Julia shoved aside her coffee cup. She had to do something. Connor was at the mall opening. She couldn't speak to him about this until tonight. There was no way she could leave it alone till then. She was too worked up.
Greg, on the other hand, was in his office working. Presumably on the budget, although she was beginning to wonder if he was really doing a background check for the mayor.
There was only one way to find out.
She'd invent a plausible excuse for dropping by the mayor's office. That way, if she was wrong and Greg was buried in his budget numbers, totally oblivious to what was going on with Brian, she could make a graceful exit, and no harm would be done. But if she was right, then maybe they could put their heads together and come up with something concrete on Walker while the mayor made his requisite political appearance at the mall.
Now for the excuse.
She went over to her binder, pulled out the couple o
f reading and spelling tests that belonged to the kids who were absent when she'd graded them. Let's see—Jennifer's science sheet, Randy's reading quiz. There. Brian's spelling test from Monday. He'd gotten a 97. A nice surprise to pass on to his father. A nice excuse in case she needed one.
She grabbed her purse and left the apartment.
10:45 A.M.
Municipal Building
Julia had a hell of a time getting into the building. Not only was it locked, but it was manned by a security attendant who grilled her as if she were a terrorist. Even the spelling test she'd brought as her alibi wouldn't have been enough to get her upstairs.
Luck helped out on that score.
The security officer was about to buzz Greg in his office and verify that Ms. Talbot was expected, when the front door blew open and Celeste dashed out.
"Ms. Talbot—hello." She halted in her tracks, a surprised expression on her face. "What are you doing here?"
Relief swept through Julia. She hadn't wanted Greg to know she was coming. Advance warning would give him time to hide any confidential material he was working on and whip out his budget, fabricating a "normal" scene for her to walk in on. This way, he'd be caught off guard.
"Hi, Celeste." With a sheepish look, Julia waved Brian's spelling test in the air. "I wanted to leave this on the mayor's desk so he could send it to Brian. Greg mentioned to me that a package would be going out to him on Monday. And since Mayor Stratford is tied up all day at the mall, I thought I'd drop it off here. I had no idea it would be such a big deal to get in." She held up her other arm, giving the Dunkin' Donuts bag she clutched a light shake. "Also, Greg mentioned to me that he'd be working all day. I thought I'd say hi, bring him a cup of coffee and a doughnut to make working on a Saturday easier to bear."
Celeste grinned. "I'm sure he'd appreciate that." She turned to the guard and nodded. "It's okay, Joe. Ms. Tal-bot can go up."
"Okay." Joe shot Julia an apologetic look. "Sorry, Ms. Talbot, just doing my job." He scratched his head, angling it at Celeste. "Boy, today's been busy," he commented. "You, Mr. Matthews, Mr. Henderson, and now Ms. Talbot. Saturdays are normally real quiet. And I thought today would be even more so, with everyone going to the mall opening. Guess I was wrong."
"Not completely," Celeste assured him. "I'm off to the mall right now." She waved good-bye to Julia.
"Celeste, one quick question," Julia interjected.
"Sure."
"In that package you're putting together for Brian, did either the mayor or Connor Stratford give you a red rabbit's foot to include?"
With a puzzled shrug, Celeste replied, "You've lost me. I'm not putting together any package for Brian. The mayor is taking care of all that himself. As for the rabbit's foot, I haven't seen it. That doesn't mean it isn't there." She smiled. "It's a gift from you, I take it?"
Julia nodded, processing that piece of information. "Okay, well, thanks anyway. Enjoy the grand opening."
She waited while the guard held open the door and let her pass. Then she made her way through the lobby to the elevator. So Greg had been wrong about Celeste handling Brian's package. Either wrong or lying. If he was wrong, then the mayor was keeping him in the dark about whatever was going on. But if he was lying, that gave her hunch even more credibility. Especially since Cliff Henderson either was, or had been, there that morning. If he and Greg were collaborating, working privately with the mayor on Brian's situation, what better time to do it than today, when the office was quiet and the rest of the city was at the mall opening?
Time to stop speculating. Time to find out.
Julia took the elevator up to the executive level and made her way toward Greg's office, which was just around the bend from the mayor's.
The mayor's office door was shut. But it swung open as she passed, and Cliff Henderson strode out, his jaw clenched as he skimmed through what looked to be sheets of stationery and some photographs. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he nearly collided with her.
"Oh, excuse me." He blinked, clearly surprised to see her. He stuck his right hand behind his back, but not before Julia saw the Walker Development letterhead on the stationery he was gripping and the photo stapled on top of it.
It was a snapshot of Brian standing on the pitcher's mound.
"Ms. Talbot, right?" he asked, waiting for her nod. "If you're looking for Stephen or Connor, they're both at the mall."
"I assumed as much," Julia replied. She was wracking her brain to think of why a picture of Brian would be stapled to Walker's stationery and why Cliff Henderson would be holding them. Also, what were the other photos of? "Actually, I'm dropping in on Greg. I brought him a cup of coffee. Is he in there with you or in his own office?"
A shrug. "His own office, I assume. I haven't seen him in the past half hour or so."
"Fine. I'll head down there." Julia inclined her head. "Are you on your way out?"
A brief pause. "Soon. I have a few legal matters to tie up for the mayor. Then I'll join him at the grand opening. But don't let me keep you. Bring Greg his coffee while it's hot."
He was clearly dying to get rid of her. Why?
Julia's insides knotted.
Cliff Henderson wasn't acting like an attorney handling a confidential matter. He was acting like a criminal trying to conceal his guilt.
Keeping the photos firmly hidden, Cliff glanced at his watch, and Julia saw beads of perspiration gathering on his brow. "Forgive me, Ms. Talbot. I don't mean to be rude. But I have to finish up my work."
"No problem." She forced a smile. "Good-bye." Turning, she continued down the corridor, purposely keeping her steps slow and even in case Cliff Henderson was watching.
Indeed, he was watching. From outside Stephen's office door, he stared after her, his lips drawn in a grim line.
Julia reached Greg's office, praying that she could glean something from him, anything that could help her. She was feeling more uneasy by the minute.
The door was slightly ajar, and Julia was just about to knock when she heard Greg's voice on the phone.
"According to my notes, Mr. Walker will be leaving the country around noon on Monday " he was saying.
Startled, Julia leaned closer. She eased the door open a bit farther, glancing cautiously inside. Greg's back was to her, so she grew bolder, wedging herself in the open doorway to hear better.
"I'm just verifying that the flight plan to Switzerland has been filed and that the company jet will be fueled and ready." Greg paused, nodding. "Um-hum. I know it's short notice. I have no idea what the trip's for. Make something up if you have to. One passenger and a large attache" case. No luggage. I know, but you need to keep this low-profile, Jerry. Um-hum. Pay whatever it takes. A thousand's not a problem. You'll get the money Monday. Yeah, that's what they say. Secret banks and great chocolate—a perfect place for the rich to disappear forever. I already told you, no return plans." A chuckle. "Excellent. Thanks."
He hung up, turning before Julia could duck out and digest what she'd just heard, maybe make some sense out of it.
"Julia." His greeting was surprised and anything but pleased, and his eyes narrowed on her face. "What are you doing here?"
"I c-came to see you." She tried desperately not to stammer. "I brought you a doughtnut and coffee." She stepped inside, set the bag down on the nearest end table. She couldn't look Greg in the eye, not until she'd figured out why he'd been making phone calls on Walker's behalf. And, more important, why those phone calls implied that Walker was leaving the country—for good.
What in God's name was going on?
She had to get hold of herself. "Actually, the real reason I'm here is to put this with the rabbit's foot you left for Brian on the mayor's desk." She fluttered the spelling test in the air for the umpteenth time that day. "A 97. Definitely worth including in his care package."
"I haven't had a chance to put the rabbit's foot on Mayor Stratford's desk." Greg's gaze was steady. "But I will. In case you doubted it."
"Of course not. I know you'll take care of it before you go home." Julia retreated to the doorway, intent on acting as normal as possible. "I didn't expect it to be the first thing on your mind. You're swamped with work. Truthfully, I'm on overdrive myself. I've got a ton of errands to run and some lesson plans to catch up on. I promised myself I'd just pop in, drop off my goodies, and take off. So I'm on my way. Enjoy the breakfast. I'll talk to you next week."
With a little wave, she withdrew back into the hallway, then made a beeline for the elevator.
Greg followed her into the hall. He noticed she didn't stop to take a detour into the mayor's office to leave the spelling test for Brian.
12:10 P.M.
Leaf Brook Mall
The twelve-level parking lot was packed like a giant can of sardines.
Julia drove around and around in one long, spiral ascent until she finally saw the tiny parking spot on the eleventh floor. Her Beetle just barely managed to squeeze in.
She flipped off the ignition, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.
She had to find Connor.
All the way there, she'd mulled over what she'd seen and heard, mentally reviewing the facts, over and over. And over and over, her gut told her something was wrong.
Brian's picture, stapled to a letter from Walker. Plans for Walker to leave the country, comfortably and permanently.
When she fit the puzzle pieces together, they formed a pretty heinous picture.
She had to be wrong. There had to be some logical explanation for this.
She needed reassurances. And she needed them from the Stratfords.
She jumped out of her car, hurried off, and grabbed a down elevator just as its doors were about to shut. She took it down to the mall's main level.
They opened to mayhem.
Mobs of people had come either to shop or to enjoy the opening-day amusements and exhibits the city had provided. Jugglers, face painters, performing mimes, and a popular deejay were some of the main attractions. In the dead center of the complex, a huge Ferns wheel was situated, its cheerful lights and carnival music beckoning children and adults alike.