Blood Ties (40 page)

Buck ducked his head as the horse plunged under a
low-hanging branch. Thunder cracked and Toby shied
again, nearly spilling Buck into the sodden phragmites that closed in on either side of the trail. The skies opened, and a deluge of rain poured down on
the island.

Buck had ridden only a short way when he heard a
dog bark. It was a deep, full-throated bellow that could
only belong to Archie. The sound came from the
right, off in the marsh. Buck pulled Toby up short,
threw himself out of the saddle, and set off on foot
down the nearest game trail.

Abbie heard the dog behind them, and her heart surged
with hope. Archie had been with Harry, but if he wasn't,
if he was coming after her, she had a chance. "They know
about you!" she cried at George. "Run while you can!"

"You keep moving," George answered brusquely.
"Up ahead there."

Abbie climbed over a rotting log and sank to her
knees in the muddy water. Something loomed out of
the rain. As she struggled closer, she saw that it was an
old wooden boat, but how it had gotten this far into
the swamp, she couldn't imagine.

"Nor'easter flooded the island," George said, as if
reading her mind. "Pushed this old hull up here. God
carried it here. No way a man could get it out." He gestured toward it. "Somebody used it for a duck blind,"
he said. "Tarred it all inside. Made it waterproof.
Snake-proof too."

Abbie looked at the boat. It was rotting, but someone had nailed a crude ladder to the side.

"Get up there," George said.

Abbie heard Archie's booming bark. Closer now.
She prayed to God that Buck was with him. That someone would come.

"That's it," George urged. "Climb right up on the
deck. Now open that cabin hatch."

Abbie shivered as she tugged at the door.

"Hurry up!"

Abbie yanked at the rusty handle. She could see that
someone had fastened a slide bolt to the outside.
George meant to lock her in here.

The door gave way. Abbie shielded her eyes against
the rain. The interior of the boat was dim, and tar or
not, water six inches deep had flooded it. A few beer
cans and an empty shotgun shell bobbed in the water.
The faded remains of a pinup calendar hung precariously from the far wall, but it wasn't the image of the
scantily clad girl on the Harley that drew her attention.

Curled on the rotting table was a thick, dark snake
longer than a man's arm. As she stared in speechless
horror, the snake drew back and opened its mouth
wide. Teeth gleamed. The interior of the snake's
mouth flashed white-as white as cotton.

"Thought you might like company." George
laughed. "Go on in. Make yourself at home."

Abbie dashed for the far side of the boat. The shotgun roared. She scrambled over the side and jumped.
Cursing, George came around the boat after her, but
she had already clawed herself out of the mud and was
splashing through the undergrowth toward a narrow
creek that lay perhaps fifty feet from the boat.

She didn't look back. She knew George would have
more shotgun shells, that he'd reload, that she
couldn't outrun the range of the gun. But he'd have to
hunt her down. She wasn't going to stand there and
wait to be murdered.

George's second shot pinged through the branches
over her head and rained around her. Something
sharp and hot jabbed the back of her thigh and one
arm, but she kept running. She dove into the water,
went under, and came up kicking.

The creek was no more than ten feet wide, and the
far bank was a wall of sheer mud. She tried to climb it,
but slid down. She heard a ferocious growl, looked
back, and saw George swing the barrel of the shotgun
at Archie. The Newfoundland yipped in pain, but
lunged at the man again. George clipped him on the
head and the dog slumped to the ground.

Abbie half ran, half swam down the creek, desperately seeking a place where she could get out of the
water. The storm raged directly overhead. Lightning
flashed, and thunder cracked and boomed. The torrent of rain made it difficult for her to see more than
a few yards ahead.

If she could reach the tall reeds, hide in them,
George might not find her. Help might reach her before he did. Around a bend, she saw a flat meadow of
grass. The bank here was lower, and she managed to
climb up. The growth wasn't tall enough to hide in,
but she couldn't turn back. She waded and crawled
through the muck.

The burning in her thigh nagged at her, but fear
drove her on. Then another shot rang out. It
sounded different from George's shotgun, but she
couldn't be sure.

"Abbie!"

She turned to see Buck standing on the far bank.
"Abbie, get down!"

She threw herself flat in the mud. Seconds later,
lightning shattered a pine a few hundred yards away.
Flames shot from branches, to be quickly drenched by
the pouring rain. The smell of brimstone filled her
nostrils.

She raised her head. George was plunging across
the mud flat toward her. She scrambled up, but Buck
shouted again. "Stay there!"

Abbie could make out George plainly through the
rain. His hat was gone. His eyes were wild. His mudcovered face was twisted in rage so that he didn't appear human. She crouched there, trembling, too
frightened to scream.

Suddenly George stepped into a grassy pool and sank
waist-deep into the mud, shotgun held over his head.

Abbie began to inch away.

"Stay where you are!" Buck yelled.

George was struggling now. The water rose to his
chest. He threw the shotgun aside and clawed at the
water and clumps of grass, pulling great handfuls
loose. He was near enough that she could see his terrified eyes. He was sinking deeper and deeper.

"Help!" he screamed. "Help me!"

Abbie couldn't move. Her heart thudded erratically
against her ribs.

Lightning struck again, closer.

George was blubbering now. Crying out, "Mama!
Mama! Help me!" The black water closed over his
shoulders.

"Abbie!" Buck had circled around the mud flat and
now moved toward her from the opposite direction
George had come. Buck was stepping cautiously from
grass hummock to hummock. "Don't move, babe," he
called to her. "If you move, you'll go under. It's quicksand."

"Please!" George howled. "Please!" The muddy water reached his chin, and he choked and thrashed. He
scratched and clawed at the air. "Help me! Help. .."

Abbie closed her eyes and tried not to think of the
cold muck filling George's eyes and ears ... of the
thick mud pouring down his throat and choking off
his breath. She tried not to think of the cold, silent water closing over him.

And then Buck's strong arms were around her, and
she stopped thinking, clung to him, and wept with joy.

A week later, Daniel and Bailey moored the skiff at his
dock and walked up the lawn to the cabin. Archie, lying
in the shade of the porch, raised his massive headswathed in bandages-and bellowed a welcome.

Abbie opened the kitchen door. "Hey!" she cried.
"Buck! Come here."

He filled the doorway behind her and laughed.
"What's that you've got, cuz?"

Bailey smiled and looked at the dark-haired child
Daniel was holding in his arms. "This is Rafi," she said,
beaming at the little boy dressed in bright red shorts,
new sneakers, and a matching red dinosaur T-shirt.
"This is Daniel's-this is ourson, Rafi."

Abbie and Buck came out onto the porch. "Hello,
there." Abbie smiled at the toddler. "Aren't you a
handsome boy?"

Buck looked into his cousin's eyes. "You found him?"

"Daniel was coming to the airport to pick me up,"
Bailey supplied, "and someone from the agency
called him."

"They said they had a package for me," Daniel said.
"It seems our mutual friend wasn't all bad. Rafi got
sick, and Lucas left him in the emergency room in
Easton with his passport, his birth certificate, and a
State Department phone number. Child services got
involved, but eventually, the agency straightened it all
out and contacted me."

"So he's yours?" Buck asked.

Bailey caught the small hand and squeezed it. "All
ours. Rafi Daniel Catlin. He doesn't speak much English. Bunny and Coke are about it, but he seems very
bright."

"That's wonderful," Abbie said.

"Yeah," Daniel agreed. "It is." He put his free arm
around Bailey. "And Emma tells me that congratulations are in order for you two."

"No," Abbie said. "They are not."

"Yep," Buck said. "I asked her to marry me, and she
said maybe."

Bailey laughed. "Maybe?Maybe means congratulations?"

"At least she didn't say, `Hell, no!'," Buck said.
"Come on in. Spaghetti sauce is ready, and I'm about
to put the noodles on."

"I helped," Abbie said. "I added the hot peppers."

"Really hot," Buck said. "I've convinced her to stay a
few more days. Then she has to be in Philadelphia to
start classes."

Daniel stood Rafi on the floor. The little boy seized
Bailey's hand and stared at Archie with large dark
eyes.

"He loves animals," Bailey said. "Don't you, Rafi? He
and Puzzle are already friends."

"Maybe he'd like Archie for his very own," Abbie
teased.

"No way," Buck said. "Archie's going nowhere. If it
wasn't for him, I never would have caught up with you
and George in time."

"Bad business, that." Daniel glanced at Abbie. "But
over now."

"Yeah, over. Once and for all." Buck smiled. "I appreciate your letting me use this cabin until you can
get the Sherwood house in shape for me. I'd be glad
to pay rent."

"No rent," Bailey said. "We don't need two houses
anymore. We're glad we can help." She looked at Abbie. "I'm starved, and that spaghetti sauce smells delicious. Can I do anything?"

"Maybe talk some sense into Buck," Abbie replied.
"He's still trying to convince me that we can work out something permanent. My doctorate will take a few
years, and I'll have to be in Greece summers for-"

"Small details," Buck said.

"And when I get my degree, I'll have to look for a
position at a university."

Daniel shrugged. "You can commute."

"That's what I tell her. It's not as though she doesn't
have transportation."

"That's true," Bailey agreed. "And I can't think of
anyone we'd rather have as a neighbor."

"Besides," Buck said, going to stand beside Abbie
and draping an arm around her shoulders, "we can't
fight when we're not together."

"I keep telling him it will never work," Abbie insisted.

"Quiet, woman, and pour the wine."

She rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. He's playing macho cop again."

Buck grinned. "She knows all about that. Ask her
about the handcuffs."

Abbie laughed and poured the wine.

When they all had drinks, Buck raised a glass, "To
Rafi and your new baby."

"To Rafi and Betsy," Daniel touched his glass to
Buck's.

"It's a girl," Bailey informed them. "Rafi will be a big
brother. We're naming her Elizabeth Emma Tawes
Catlin."

"That's a mouthful," Buck said.

Abbie smiled. "I think it's beautiful." She looked at
Rafi. "And he's beautiful. But ... why did the C.I.A.
go to the trouble to find your son and deliver him to
you?"

"Simple," Daniel answered. "The agency considers
itself a family. They take care of each other, even the
black sheep, like me."

"Like the people on Tawes," Bailey said.

"Exactly," Buck agreed. "And you know how it is
with family, babe. We may squabble among ourselves,
but when the wind blows and the tide rises, we always
look after our own."