Hidden Legacy (30 page)

“Briana!”

The anguished sound of her own voice released her. Purse bumping at her side, she sprang up, ran through the halls, up and down the stairs, into each room, calling, calling. The momentum of sheer terror carried her forward and she didn’t dare stop for fear the numbness would become permanent.

“Briana!”

When the house proved empty, she stumbled outside, turned in desperate circles, praying for direction. Had he left the grounds? Where would he take her this time? Tears blurred her vision. She checked the garage. One car was missing. Maybe Jonah and Caitlynn had taken Briana out on a local adventure.
Please, let them be out
.

“Briana!”

Stay strong!
She wiped the tears with the back of one hand. The stables came into view, drew her like a magnet.
Please, please, please, let her be there. Let her be safe
.
Let her be playing with the horses with Jonah
.
Let this be overreaction.

Juliana threw open the heavy wooden doors, tripped over the granite threshold, and had to stop, propping both hands on the cold stone frame to let her eyes adjust to the sudden darkness.

The smell of hay, leather, and horse mingled with the acrid waves of her panic. The rasp of her breath, the thunder of her heart were the only sounds she could make out.

Then came a soft mewling, like a kitten in pain.

“Mommy!”

She was here! Her baby was here and alive. Juliana whirled toward the first stall, saw the shadowy outline of Briana tethered like an animal to the feeding trough. Without thinking, she rushed to her daughter, fell to her knees, and scrabbled at the ropes holding her little girl prisoner.

“Are you okay?”

“Mommy,” Briana sniffed.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m here.” The first knot came undone. “Who did this to you?”

“Lu-Lucas.”

Juliana froze. “Lucas?”

Her mind screamed a violent protest. No, that was impossible! Lucas was back in Boston, setting up the final trap for the Phantom. Lucas loved her, loved his daughter. He wouldn’t do that to them.

But then, Juliana had hurt him with her secret. And who else had known where she was going? Who else had known where she’d stowed Briana? Who else knew just what would torment her most?

Her insistence on renting a car had delayed her. Lucas hadn’t come with her. He’d left—for Boston, he’d said. Her heart contracted in pain. No, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. Not Lucas. Not after the way he’d taken care of her, loved her. Not after he’d promised her.

Something inside her tore.

No, he wouldn’t. She refused to believe he could.

Tears streamed down Briana’s face. Her little body shook with her fearful sorrow. “He hurt Aunt Caitlynn.”

Briana turned toward the back of the stall where Juliana noticed the dark lump for the first time. “Oh, my God, no.”

Clamping Briana at her side, she crawled to Caitlynn’s side, turned her over and saw the mat of blood in her golden brown hair.

Briana’s crying renewed in intensity. Juliana buried her daughter’s head against her shoulder. “Don’t look, baby. Mommy’s going to take care of Aunt Caitlynn. Where’s Uncle Jonah?”

“Out.” Briana snuffled against Juliana’s shoulder. “He got a phone call.”

She felt for a pulse and sighed with relief when she found one.

“He was going to get sprinkles on his way home. We were going to make cupcakes. I wanted rainbow sprinkles.”

“I’ll bet he’ll find just the right kind, too.”

Looking for the little packets of towelettes she always carried for Briana, she dug through her purse with one hand. “Caitlynn! Can you hear me?”

“She’ll be fine,” a voice said from the shadows behind her. Her whole body bristled. “Just a small concussion.”

Briana clamped her fingers into Juliana’s side and rattled with fright. “Mommy!”

“Shh. It’s okay.” Holding Briana safe in her arms, she turned toward the voice.

“Hello, Juliana.” The Phantom stepped out of the shadows. And when he did, he wore the mask of the man she loved. “We finally meet.”

There were no safe places after all.

Chapter 17

“It’s four-thirty. Where the hell is he?” Fowler’s voice crackled over the receiver hidden in Lucas’s ear.

“I don’t know.” Lucas’s blood hummed with uneasiness.

Persuading Regan to act on this lead and marshal a team to snare the Phantom had taken a lot of convincing. Now Lucas was getting the sick feeling this was nothing more than another of Willy’s taunts.

The replica sat on the low coffee table, mocking him in the dying afternoon light.

“Not this time,” he mumbled, turning away.

“What?” Fowler asked.

“Nothing. He’ll show.”

What did the Phantom have in mind? Armed with new information and background on Willy, Lucas reviewed the case.

To pull off his charades, Willy had used as many aliases as jewels he’d acquired. Changed appearances to fit the circumstances. Become an invisible part of the scene. This skill was understandable given that his mother had been an actress. According to his file, he’d been reared in the backstage area of the local theater where Erica Valere Putnam produced her plays.

Willy had lived on his own since he was eighteen. He’d been a loner until last February when he’d insinuated himself into Cindy’s life. Because he cared, or because she’d been of use? Of use, Lucas decided, pacing the Persian carpet with a fretful restlessness. A way to win over Briana’s trust.

But why Briana? How could Willy have known about her when he himself hadn’t? Because of Juliana? He shook his head. Not likely. His relationship with her had been brief and separate from his work. She was so far removed from his life when he’d returned to Boston that even his fellow agents had no clue. It had to be something else.

Why had Willy not hurt the child? She was old enough to give the FBI details of his appearance. He had to have known they would connect him to Cindy. He’d wanted that. Why?

To show his superiority. He was better than them all combined, and he wanted to be sure they knew.

But something, somewhere along the way had not gone the way he’d expected, and Willy’s careful organization had started to crumble.

“Looks like your boy is a no-show,” Fowler said. “We’re packing it in.”

“No!”

“We’ve got better things to do with our time than watch you pace your living room. The sky’s about to burst, and I for one, don’t want to get soaked while you’re all nice and toasty.”

The dog! Damn, he’d never taken the dog into the equation. Cindy’s MasterCard had flagged the vet she’d used. The local field office had tracked down the rental Willy had kept. At last report, they were still sifting, bagging, and tagging the evidence in the chaos Willy had left behind.

“Hang on. Give me five minutes.”

A quick call confirmed his suspicions. The only thing the Phantom had trusted was gone. He hadn’t killed Cindy because of the Sapphire; he’d killed her because the dog had died while in her care.

Sweat prickled his scalp, dribbled down his back. His heart galloped in his chest as if he’d just come home from one of his runs.

He ripped through his memory for the number. Found it and dialed. The phone at the other end rang and rang. Five, six times. With each piercing peal, his heart beat faster. He double-checked with information and dialed again.

No response.

He’s got her
, he thought.
He’s got them
.

He growled his rage and despair.

“Fowler!” he shouted.

“You’re splitting my eardrum.”

“He’s at the lake house.”

“No, you’re not—”

“
He’s at the lake house
. He has Juliana and Briana Shales.”

“One of your hunches,” Fowler sneered.

“Fact.”
You jackass
. “No one’s answering the phone.”

“Maybe they’re out for a joy ride.”

“Jonah’s service would pick up.”

“So they’re sleeping on the job. I’m not mobilizing a whole team to some out-of-the-way hole-in-the-wall just on one of your hunches.”

Lucas swore hot and loud.

“Vassilovich—”

Lucas jerked the earpiece out and flung it back. He tore to his Jeep and screeched out of the driveway, gunning the pedal all the way to the floor.

How much time did the Phantom have on him?

With a jerk, he pulled on the shoulder and slammed on the brakes.

Time, that was the key. Time and intent. An hour? Two? Four? As much as four, he decided with a sinking feeling. They could be anywhere, out of state. His hands tightened around the steering wheel.

Don’t rush like a fool, put yourself in his head
. What does he want?

Precious minutes ticked by.

Then he sat bolt upright. Revenge. The impact of the unexpected insight nauseated.

He had to find them. Fast.

Revving the engine, he pressed the mike on his radio, and twisted the Jeep into U-turn. “Fowler, I’m heading to Will’s house.”

“We already searched the house and found nothing.”

“Where do you go when you want to feel safe?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You go home. When you want to feel safe, you go home.”

* * *

The clouds had raced with them, growing darker, denser as they headed south. Briana had attached herself to Juliana and refused to let go. Not that she would let anyone take her baby from her a second time.

“We’re here,” Willy said, parking her rental car on a gravel drive.

Looking at Willy and seeing a crude rendition of Lucas’s face made her ill. She would never have mistaken one for the other, but seeing the mask had given her enough of a shock for him to take control of the situation.

“Where are we?” she asked.

The house behind a thicket of pines looked abandoned. She searched the area, but didn’t recognize it. Body tensed, she remained alert for a chance to escape. If she was to make a getaway, it would have to be soon. When he opened the car door, she decided. He’d be unbalanced then.

“Home sweet home.”

He swiveled to get out of the car. She pulled on the handle and shoved her shoulder into the door. It didn’t budge.

“It’s no use, Miss Shales. I’ve set the child safety lock. You can’t get out unless I open the door from the outside.”

With the ease of someone who knew he was in control, Will ambled around the car. Before he opened the door, he pulled a gun from his jacket pocket and pointed it toward Briana’s head.

“Move nice and slow, and no one will get hurt.”

“What do you want with us?” Juliana struggled out of the car, keeping her body poised between the gun and her daughter.

“A simple demonstration.”

“Of what?”

“Why, of kinship, of course.” He motioned her to move forward. “Careful of the steps, they’re a little rotted in spots.”

Like your soul
, she thought. Her gaze searched for a way to evade their captor. Carrying Briana, she couldn’t run away from him. She had little choice but to meekly obey.

He led them inside, making her switch on lights as they made their way to the back parlor of the decaying Gothic Revival house.

“How did you find Briana?” she asked, needing to hear something more than the crazed thoughts scrambling through her mind.

“Where does one go when one wants to feel safe?” He smiled. “Home. It wasn’t so hard to put two and two together.”

“I hadn’t talked to Jonah in years.”

“But your roots were there nonetheless. It was only natural you should turn to him for help. Family sticks together in times of troubles.”

Was she so predictable? Had that made her an easy target?

A layer of dust floured the collection of small tables and overstuffed chairs that cluttered the room. Thick velvet drapes covered the two windows along the far wall. Imminent rain made the smell of must and neglect sharper. The only escape route was through the door through which they’d entered, and Willy was an armed sentinel at its mouth.