Gone (12 page)

Still aware of the rustling and scratching, she moved silently around the cabin, watching the display on her phone. She wasn’t even sure why she was still trying. It was obviously a waste of time. Still, what did it hurt? Maybe somewhere, in an awkward corner or arm’s length out a window, she might conceivably pick up one bar and manage to dial 911, or Joe. Staring at the display, she wandered close to the door and once again stood still, barely breathing. Listening.

Had the noise stopped? She didn’t hear it anymore. Maybe whatever it was had given up and gone away. Holding her breath, she stood like a statue. She heard what sounded like the click of claws on wood, getting fainter with each second that passed. She forced a small, quiet laugh. It probably
was
a raccoon. Luckily it hadn’t climbed the stairs and somehow pushed the door open using its little prehensile fingers. She’d have probably fainted.

After another minute of waiting and listening, Marcie still didn’t hear anything. She should go back to bed and try to sleep as much as possible, or she would be exhausted in the morning. But she was too hyper now. There was no way she could get to sleep.

She looked at her phone. It was ridiculous that she couldn’t pick up a signal somewhere. She was worried about Joe. About what had happened that kept him from showing up. He’d told her he’d be there within minutes, if she called him. Maybe he was just far back enough toward town that he could pick up a signal on his phone and therefore he didn’t realize that she couldn’t. Maybe he was still waiting for her to call.

Hadn’t he told her once that phone signals might be stronger at night than during the day? Or was that radio signals? She couldn’t remember, but if he were out there waiting for her call, she had to try and see if she could find at least one bar. It made sense that there might be a better chance at night, didn’t it? There probably were fewer phone calls being made, fewer internet connections being used.

She started to unlock the door but she paused, thinking of the noise she’d heard. “Come on, Marcie,” she whispered to herself. She hadn’t been afraid of the swamp in the daytime. There shouldn’t be anything to fear at night. It was the same swamp with the same wildlife. And all she wanted to do was step out onto the stoop and check her phone. It wasn’t as if she were going down the stairs.

She took a deep breath, then turned the lock and stepped out onto the porch, a little surprised at how dark it was. The moon wasn’t up yet and although the sky was clear and the stars were bright, the cypress trees and Spanish moss draped the bayou with shadows. The night was quiet, nothing but rainwater dripping and the breeze stirring the leaves. Was it a sleepy, all-the-animals-are-happy silence? She didn’t think so. It seemed to her that the air was laden with caution, as if the wildlife were holding their breaths.

Marcie glanced at the phone’s display. Still no signal. With a frustrated sigh and a stinging of her eyelids, she stuck the phone into the pocket of her coat. Maybe she’d go back inside and wrestle on her jeans, then go down to the pier, or maybe all the way to the road, and check the phone again. As she felt behind her for the doorknob, she heard the same rustling sound.

She froze. Her first thought was Howard. Shock burned through her nerve endings as her body tensed. Was she scaring herself? After all, the stairs creaked whenever a slight breeze stirred. Nothing could climb up here without making a lot more noise than she’d heard.

Still, she put her finger on the pepper spray can button, then whirled, prepared to drench whatever was behind her. But before she’d stopped spinning, powerful arms grabbed her and shoved her against the rough board wall of the cabin.

Chapter Eleven

With a yelp, Marcie tried to throw herself sideways, hoping her momentum didn’t send her plummeting over the railing or down the stairs. She managed to hit the button on the pepper spray can, but the shot of spray was deflected by the shadowy figure’s arm. He clamped an ironlike hand over her mouth. She gasped and tried to scream, but the hand was too strong. Tried to bite him but her lips were pressed too tightly against her teeth.

“No!” she tried to cry. Nothing but a muffled groan came from her throat.
No!
He would not overpower her. She’d throw herself over the rail first. She struggled with all her strength, pushing, kicking, trying to bite. She sucked in air to try one more time to scream and caught a whiff of a familiar scent. A pleasant, poignant mixture of soap, citrus and clean cotton. At the same time she heard a low voice urging her to stop struggling. The combination stopped her cold.

Joe?
Her fingertips tingled even as her limbs went limp with relief.

“Marcie,” he whispered urgently. “Stop wiggling. You’re going to send us right over the edge.”

She gasped again, but the only noise she made through his hand was a mumble.

“Shh! Marcie. It’s Joe.”

“Mm-mmmph,” she groaned, which sounded nothing like
I know.

Joe pulled her inside and kicked the door closed. “Are you going to be quiet?” he muttered.

“Mmm-hmm, mmm mmm,” she said.
Of course I am.
She nodded again.

He let go of her and took his hand away from her mouth.

“Joe? Wh-what are you—?” she cried, her hand over her heart. “You scared me almost totally to death!”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Are you okay?”

She licked her lips and tasted blood. “Ow.” When she touched her finger to the sore place, it came away red. “I bit my lip.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Trying to bite me.”

“What are you doing here—?” But before she finished speaking the full realization of what it meant to have Joe right here, right in front of her, hit her and she flung herself into his arms. “Oh, my God, oh, my God, Joe! You’re here!” She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him as tightly as she could.

“Please, don’t let this be a dream,” she said as her eyes filled with tears and her voice turned thick with emotion.

“Hey,” he said, pulling her tightly into his embrace. “It’s no dream. I’m here. I’m right here.”

For a moment, she just held on to him and relished the feel of his strong arms around her. She buried her nose in his shirt, seeking that little hollow just under his collarbone. He smelled so good. Like soap and clean shirts. Like Joe.

Then reality pushed its way into the middle of her joy and relief. “Joe, no! You can’t be here. You have to leave. Howard said he’d— If he finds out you’re here, he’ll hurt Joshua. We can’t—” She tried to swallow around a sudden lump in her throat. “We can’t let him cut our baby’s finger off. You’ve got to get out of here!”

“Hey, shh.” Joe held on to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her so close she could feel his heart beating. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Wait! Wait a minute.” She lifted her head and felt cool air on her cheeks. She realized they were wet with tears. “We’ve been so stupid. We can’t stay here and wait for that horrible man. We’ve got to get out of here and call the police. I don’t care what they said about me. They have to help us. It’s their job, right? They’ve got to. We can’t do this on our own. Joe, I’m so scared.”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice muffled because he was pressing his nose into her hair. “I’m scared, too.” His embrace tightened and she heard him take a shaky breath.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, peering at him in the darkness.

She felt his spine go rigid.

“Joe? What is it?”

“We can’t leave, Marcie.”

“What do you mean? Why not? Where did you park your car?”

He let go of her and his gaze met hers. His expression was grim. “I don’t have a car. I hid in your trunk.”

“You hid—?” She laughed uneasily. “In the trunk of my car? I can’t believe I didn’t know you were in there.”

He nodded. “Hah. There could be cats fighting in the trunk and you wouldn’t open it. I knew I’d be safe there.”

“I don’t like trying to open the trunk with an armload of stuff. It’s much easier to throw the bags in the backseat.” She smiled at him. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I wasn’t going to let you come out here alone, no matter what Howard said.”

“You said you had to get gas. That you’d catch up with me.”

He shrugged, then winced. “I’m sorry for not telling you the truth. I considered following you in the other car, but I decided that would be too obvious. Howard would be sure to spot it. I doubt many strangers drive out this far.”

“I couldn’t believe I was on a road. It’s so narrow. I was afraid the car was going to go over the edge any second. And then it did.”

“So I figured the only thing I could do was hide in the trunk and wait until it got dark to get out.” He rubbed his shoulder. “I didn’t expect to be rammed by a truck.”

“Oh, Joe. You were in the trunk when Howard rammed the car. Are you all right?”

“A little sore from being knocked around, but nothing serious. There’s actually a lot of buffer in your bumper.”

“That’s good to know,” she said wryly. “How did you do it? I didn’t see your car when I left the house.”

“I put it into the garage and closed the door manually.”

She couldn’t decide if she was more thrilled to see him, or more angry that he hadn’t told her what he was going to do. “But why didn’t you tell me? You didn’t have to ride in the trunk the whole way. We could have stopped along the way to let you get into the car.”

Joe shook his head. “Nope. I didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on you. If you knew I was in the trunk and Howard confronted you or started asking you questions, I didn’t want you to have to lie to him. If you didn’t know I was there, you wouldn’t have to worry about anything but the truth as you knew it.”

Marcie looked at her husband, the man she’d accused of not caring for their son as much as she did. The man she’d resented for moving on with his life, instead of wallowing in the loss of the child they’d made together. She’d never thought of him as particularly courageous, never really thought about that at all. He was just a man, a man she’d fallen in love with. A man who had been scarred by an unstable childhood and a mother who was most kindly described as a stripper. But now, looking at him with his hair tousled and his shirt wrinkled, she thought she was beginning to see the kind of man he really was.

She doubted he’d ever forgive her for the things she’d said to him when she was hurting so badly that nothing he or anyone did could ease her grief and pain. He’d put up with more from her than any husband, much less a husband who had lost a child, should have to.

Every time she’d gone to him with a crazy story of having seen Joshua, he’d supported her. Even this last time. And he hadn’t done it to placate her, she knew, but because, even after she’d cried wolf so many times, he still believed she might have actually seen Joshua.

If—no, when—they got Joshua back, what then? Joe wouldn’t come back to her, she was sure about that. She’d destroyed any hope that he could look past the way she’d treated him. But he’d be there for his son. She didn’t doubt that for one instant. Maybe not every day, but he’d be there.

Of all the things she didn’t know about her husband, she did know one thing for sure. He loved his son more than anything in the world. He would do anything, even sacrifice his life, for their son. Maybe someday, far enough in the future that the wounds she’d inflicted on him had healed, he would be willing to try again to be a family. To be three once more.

Joe watched Marcie, becoming more worried about her by the second. She’d been staring at nothing for several moments. “Hon? Are you okay?” he asked. Was she angry at him for lying to her?

“What?” Marcie blinked several times then looked at him. “I can’t believe you did that. It was a brave thing to do. And—” she took a breath “—you could have been hurt really badly if Howard had rammed the car any harder.”

“So Howard drove by, banged into the car a few times to be sure you couldn’t drive it, then just drove away? Did he talk to you at all? Did he give you any information about the swap?”

“No,” she said. “When I saw his pickup, the only thing I could think about was Joshua. At first I was sure Howard had him with him, that he was there to make the exchange. But then he rammed into the car, and all I could think about was that Joshua might be in that truck. I was terrified. Was he in there, not in a child seat? Was Howard just letting my baby bounce around in there? I ran down there, but he just took off, spraying mud everywhere.”

“I could hear you yelling, and I figured the other voice I heard was Howard’s, but I couldn’t make out what you were saying. So he didn’t give you any information about when we could make the swap?”

She crossed her arms. “He never got out of the pickup, and I’m glad he didn’t. He’s awfully creepy.” She shivered. “Oh, Joe, I’ve been so scared.”

“I know, hon,” he said. He held out his arms for her. He expected her to hesitate but she didn’t. She stepped right into his embrace. As he pulled her close and breathed in the familiar scent of her hair, he asked himself what kind of idiot had he been to leave her? He should have had enough patience, enough love in him, to stay with her through the worst of her grief. Instead, he’d told himself that she was better off without him. That she’d heal faster without him around to remind her that
he
had let their child be stolen.

He’d been so wrong. He’d convinced himself that he’d done it for her. That moving out and going to work for NCMEC were for her. Now he knew better. He’d been running away.

And now, if he couldn’t get their little boy back, he’d be a coward and a failure. Even if they got Joshua back, Marcie would never trust him around their son again. Not that she’d refuse to let him see him. She wasn’t cruel. But trust—no. It would take more than a lifetime to earn her trust again.

He pressed his nose into her sweet-smelling hair and tried to blink away the stinging behind his eyes.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

He took a deep breath, then lifted his head. “I think we try to sleep. It’s been a very long day and tomorrow is going to be longer. You need to try to get some sleep.” He glanced around and saw the cot upturned with her clothes on it. Then he set her away from him and looked her up and down. “I take it your clothes got wet? That’s why you have no pants on?”

She looked down at herself. “Oh. I forgot.” She shivered and glanced at the cot. “I doubt my jeans are dry yet. Can you believe this place has electricity—and a heater? Howard has provided us with all the comforts of home.”

“I can’t believe it hasn’t burned down. That heater is dangerous. The safety guard is gone. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to leave it on.”

Marcie shivered. “But it’s getting colder,” she said. “What do you think the temperature is outside? Like thirty?”

Joe laughed. “No. More like fifty. Maybe a little lower.”

“Really? I’m freezing.”

“I’m going to get the clothes off the cot so you can sleep on it. I’ll lie beside you. Then if Howard or an alligator shows up, I’ll be between you and the door.”

“An alligator? Really?” A tiny smile lit her face and his heart began to pound. Her smile was so beautiful.

Shrugging, he smiled back at her. Then she surprised him by hugging him again.

“Thank you for hiding in the trunk,” she whispered.

“No problem,” he said, still trying to keep it light. He figured she’d push away from him any minute now. That was probably a good thing because holding her was becoming one of his favorite things—again. But she didn’t. Instead, her arms tightened around his waist, sending a surge of desire through him that was both pleasant and painful. He gritted his teeth, trying to quell the inevitable reaction of his body. It worked—kind of.

Finally, she stirred and stepped backward. Joe let her go.

“I’m not sure why they have electricity anyhow. There’s only one light—one bulb—and that space heater. Nothing else. Not a coffeepot or a toaster or anything.”

“This is obviously a fishing camp. Maybe they bring that stuff with them.”

Just then there was a buzzing, then a click that sounded like it came from the generator outside. The heater clicked, too, then the coils began to fade to black.

Marcie gasped and clutched his arm. “Somebody cut off the generator,” she said, worried. “Do you think it’s Howard?”

“No,” he said, stepping over to the window.

“But what if it
is
him?”

Joe parted the curtains slightly and looked down. “Nobody out there. I think it sounded like a timer, cutting off. Looks like that’s all the warmth we’re going to get tonight. Let’s get you tucked into that cot before the little bit of heat we’ve got totally dissipates.”

“I don’t think sleeping in that cot off the floor is going to be very warm. What if we both slept on the floor?”

He glanced at her but she wasn’t looking directly at him.

“Would that work?” she asked. “Could we keep warm if we snuggled together?”

Joe didn’t even have to think about it. He’d be warm all right. Too warm. And with his wife’s exquisitely sexy body pressed tightly against him, he wouldn’t sleep a wink.

* * *

J
OE
HAD
MANAGED
to maneuver so that Marcie was spooned against his back, but the fact that his front wasn’t pressed against her hadn’t made as much difference as he’d hoped it would. Maybe his arousal wasn’t pressed up against her, but her breasts were against his back and her upper thighs were pressed against his butt. He found it as hard to get to sleep lying like this as he’d figured it would be facing the other direction.

Finally he’d started to drift off, only to hear Marcie’s quiet murmur close to his ears.

“Joe? What’s going to happen tomorrow?”

“Hmm?” he said, still half-asleep.