Flee From Evil (28 page)

His blue eyes took in every inch of her face as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. “That’s okay.”

The phone rang, jolting them apart. They both checked their watches. Eight a.m.

Cassandra ran to the dining room, sat by the phone, and lifted the receiver. “Hello?”

Vince’s eyes never left her as he paced the room like a vengeful beast, ready to strike his prey. If only he knew where it was.

“Hello to you.”

Cassandra shuttered at the eerie, electronically distorted voice that spoke as if he were her best friend. “Where’s Sophie? I want to talk to her.” She couldn’t take in air until she knew her daughter was alive.

Vince stuffed his hands through his hair, seeming to hold his breath as well.

“Patience, Miz Whitaker. You will talk to your little girl in time.” His electrified intake of oxygen chilled her. “You have thirty-six hours to get me what I want. Two million dollars in unmarked bills.”

Vince halted his pacing and stared as Cassandra scribbled notes. He strode over to watch what she wrote. His brows drew together as he mouthed, “Thirty-six hours?”

Cassandra’s throat burned. She shrugged. It didn’t matter how long he gave her. She’d never be able to get that kind of money.

Vince laid his palm on her shaking fingers and whispered, “We’ll get her back.”

Why did she believe him? She’d done it before, only to find he was a liar.

“Miz Whitaker you still there?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I will contact you at eight tomorrow night, and tell you where to bring the cash—alone. Be ready to move fast. You will follow my instructions to the letter or your daughter dies.” The voice buzzed his chortle. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, of course. I want to speak to her.”

“I will decide what you can do.”

“How do I know you even—”

“Shut up!”

“Please.” The whimper eeked from her spent lungs.

Silence. Then, a shuffling sounded over the line. “Mom!”

“Sophie!” Cassandra wanted to jump through the phone, squeeze her daughter and never let go. “Are you o—”

“That’s enough.” The voice gouged a hole in Cassandra’s chest where Sophie’s spirit resided in her heart. “Thirty-six hours.” The line went dead.

Cassandra dropped the receiver on the table and sobbed into her arms.

Vince sat next to her. He took the pad and copied her notes. “He’ll call again?”

“He said eight tomorrow night.”

Vince folded the page, stuffed it in his pocket, and strode to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Where’s Pastor Vince?”

Cassandra pivoted from the door that had just closed behind the man, to the mother who had exited her bedroom. Why did it feel Vince took the bones from beneath her skin? “He left.”

Mom scowled. “He just got here. I thought he was going to help you get Sophie back. What—?”

“Mom.” Cassandra couldn’t take any more negativity. “I thought you forgave him.”

She sighed. “I did. But that’s his daughter out there, and he should be by your side, fighting to get her back.”

Cassandra fell into the couch cushions, sinking as if in quicksand. “There’s nothing he can do. There’s nothing anyone can do. Besides, we don’t know he’s Sophie’s father yet.”

“That’s no excuse. He should be looking under every rock and into every crevice.”

“I’m not sure he isn’t.” What
was
he doing?

Her mother’s voice cracked. “He better be.”

Tibo backed into the room, circling his arms like wheels. “Beep, beep, beep.”

Cassandra grabbed him around the shoulders from behind and held tight. A tear escaped her eyes as she pressed her lips to the top of his head.

Mom went into the bedroom. She came out rolling a suitcase, and wore a back pack over one shoulder. “Come on, Tibo. Time to go to Great-Aunt Kelley’s.”

Cassandra turned him to face her. He stared deep into her eyes, as if to discern where the hurt had come from. Cassandra bit her lip to keep it from quivering. She pulled him tight to her, more tears threatening to roll out. “Be good for Grandma.”

He tilted his attention toward the older woman. “Gamma.”

“Did you pack all his supplements?”

“Yes, Cassandra.”

“And the gluten- and casein-free food?”

“Mm-hm.”

“His favorite—”

Mom held out a palm. “I’ve got everything he needs, and can buy more if necessary. They have stores there, too, you know.”

Cassandra kissed him on the forehead and released her youngest for Mom to take to safety. Would he really be safe? Would the kidnappers find him and take him too?

“Pway,” he said, a look of concern on his face.

“Yes, Tibo.” And she would. It was all she had.

The loneliness seeped into every cell of her body as she watched them step out of the house then drive away in the car. The only car they had since hers was in the shop. What could she do now? She picked up her phone to call Kat and borrow hers. Cassandra’s mother was right. She should be out looking under every rock and into every crevice until she found her daughter.

Or died trying.

~*~

The jangle of the bell above Eddie’s pawn shop door sent eerie shivers through Vince’s spine. Eddie appeared through a curtained doorway from the back room.

“Got any information?”

Eddie shook his head wearily. “No, dude. But I might have a plan.” By the look on the guy’s face, he didn’t seem too sure.

“I’ll take whatever you got.”

Eddie watched his thumbs drumming on the glass display counter. Antique swords were laid out below. “Well, I got this buddy.” His eyes shifted back and forth. “He kinda prints money.”

“Counterfeit?”

“Yeah. I told him ’bout you, and how you needed cash.”

Vince felt exposed. “You didn’t mention Soph—”

“Naw, I didn’t tell him ’bout the girl.” He scowled. “I didn’t even use your name. I’m not an idiot.”

Relief washed over Vince. The more people who knew what they were doing, the more vulnerable they’d be to the kidnapper getting wind of their plans.

“He said he’d take care of you.”

This was gold. Or at least the closest they had to it. Finally, something with hope. But … “What’s wrong?”

Eddie grimaced. “It’ll cost ya.”

Vince’s chest constricted. “How much?”

“Well,” Eddie’s mouth twisted this way and that, “About—”

The door swung open so hard the swoosh nearly drown out the sound of the bell.

Cassandra entered. “This is where you are?” Her hardened eyes looked between the men. She gritted her teeth, and ground the words in a low voice. “I need your help, and you’re hanging out with your criminal friends?”

Eddie’s brows shot high. “Look, lady, I’m tryin’ to—”

Vince held up a palm. “Cass, Eddie’s gonna help.”

~*~

Cassandra’s muscles felt like a loosened bungee cord. She’d driven around in Kat’s borrowed car not knowing what she was looking for until she spotted Vince’s Elantra in the pawn shop parking lot. She looked at the man whose expression seemed weathered by corruption. This peddler of stolen goods was going to find her daughter? “How?”

Vince studied his shoes. “He knows someone who’ll provide counterfeit bills to give to the kidnapper.”

Her jaw went slack. She was reduced to consorting with underworld figures. She glanced at her would-be rescuer then the man who’d betrayed her, and knew she had no other choice. “He’ll get us two million?”

“Well, that’s what I was tellin’ the man here, but there’s a price.”

“How much?”

“Ten thousand dollars.”

Cassandra sagged against the counter.

Vince moved so close she could feel the warmth of his breath. “We’ll get the money, Cass. I have some put away.”

“But—”

“No buts. It must be done.”

“There’s more.” Eddie’s tone did not inspire her. “If your kidnapper has been in the business of rippin’ people off, he may know how to spot a fake.”

Air fled Cassandra’s lungs. She lifted her eyes toward the ceiling. “God, can we get a break here?”

“If we add some packs of real bills to the mix, we could hope,”—Eddie retraced Cassandra’s gaze to the ceiling, his voice mocking—“or
pray,
the guy doesn’t notice the fake ones.”

“That’s your plan?” Cassandra regretted the words. This Eddie guy had the only idea to get her daughter back. She couldn’t alienate him.

Vince placed his warm palm over her hand. “Cass.”

She pushed away. “I know. I know.” She looked to Eddie. “I’m sorry.”

“No prob. I get it. You’re worried ‘bout your girl.”

“Can you keep asking around? See if anyone knows anything.”

“Sure thing, Vince.”

The voices faded as Cassandra’s anxious mind fogged over like the constant sheen over her eyes since she’d first heard about the note. She couldn’t cry anymore. She needed to act. How much money did Vince have? Would they have enough to pay the counterfeiter, let alone the additional bills to hide the fakes?

She turned away from the conversation, her gaze trailing the line of shelves around the shop. How much of Eddie’s merchandise had been brought in by people desperate to pay bills, to buy food? How much of it had been stolen? Jewelry, stereos, TVs, music boxes …

Her eye caught. One music box drew her in. Cassandra’s muscles tensed as she neared it, noting the familiar carving of the silver. She lifted it to confirm the words her Grandmother had engraved on the bottom, “Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know. Jeremiah 33:3.” Her heart pounded so hard she could barely remain standing. The last time she’d seen this box was when she’d placed it deep into her lingerie drawer when she and Sophie painted the bedroom.

Cassandra strode across the shop to the man poised to sell it, and singed her words with fire. “Where did you get this?”

“I, uh—”

“This was stolen from me.” She pushed it in his face. “You know that don’t you?”

“I didn’t know where the guy got it.” Eddie held up his hands.

“But you know he stole it.”

Eddie looked to Vince as if in support for his deeds.

“Cass.”

She shot her gaze to him. “This man is selling things that were taken from my home, and you want me to trust him?” Her attention swung to Eddie. “Who gave you this?”

Eddie seemed to search the floor for the answer then his eyes shot wide. “I know who has your daughter.”

“Don’t change the—” The words registered. “What do you mean?”

“Kevin Perkins. He gave me that.”

The shop spun. Gears clicked into place. The looks he’d given her and Sophie. The questions he’d asked. But he’d always made them seem like friendly conversation. “He wouldn’t have known where we were that day.”

“All I know is Perkins gave me that box. Seemed really ticked he couldn’t get something more valuable. He said ‘the woman’ watched him like a hawk, like she didn’t trust him or something.”

I wonder why.

“He was working your house for something big. That’s his style.” Eddie shook his head, his eyes seeming to trail the dimensions of the room. His gaze lingered on the ceiling as if noticing something up there, then back to Cassandra. “I don’t usually display stuff I think is local. I send it to my buddy in Baltimore City. We have a sort of agreement.” He lifted a shoulder. “But for some reason I put the box up there. Don’t know why.”

Vince pointed up. “I do.”

Eddie stared at the man. “Well, the good news is the dude’s not the brightest lamp in the parking lot. He may not pick out the fake bills.”

Vince sighed. “Why do I sense bad news?”

Eddie didn’t say anything as he glanced to Cassandra.

“Just say it.” She’d worry either way.

“Dude’s no Einstein, but he’s got a mean streak.”

“How do you know?” Did she really need this answer?

“Somehow, some joker at Social Services gave Perkins custody of his nephew. When the boy was little, he always had bruises all over him. Broke a lotta bones too.”

This was the man who had her daughter.

“Ex-wife disappeared a while back. A lot of us wondered …” He glanced between Cassandra and Vince. “Never mind.”

Vince straightened. “Where does he live?”

“No idea, man, but I’ll find out. Give me a few hours. I know just the person to look into it for you.”

“We can’t include more people,” Vince cautioned. “It could get back to Perkins.”