Miss Impractical Pants (48 page)

Stanley’s heavy lids closed, as if he were too exhausted to go on. He slid his back down the wall until he was seated in a squat position. “Janek, my brother, what have you done? What have you done?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Lucas crouched down and put a hand on Stanley’s shoulder. “Stanley, we will go. We don’t want to cause any more trouble for you.”

The shattered man shook his head without looking up. “No, it is not safe. I’m sure they will be outside watching. I’m afraid it won’t be long until they come to the house.”

Lucas looked to Katie, who returned his unspoken question with a decided nod. “Then we must go. We won’t put your family in any more danger.”

“We are in danger whether you stay or go.” He spoke into the hollow between his knees.

“Then we must all leave.” Urgency rose in Lucas’s voice. “I believe
it’s
dark enough to make some distance across the back end of the pasture unnoticed.”

Stanley looked at him, then at Katie. “We cannot. Indira is ill with leukemia.” His face streamed with unchecked tears. “We have nowhere else to go. I sold everything when I came back from America to pay for her treatments. Soon, I will no longer be able to buy fuel to drive her to the big hospital.”

Katie sat next to him and pulled the burly man against her shoulder and let him sob out his woes.

“Have you any family that could house you—just for a short while?” Lucas suggested.

“We are all that is left of our family,” he sniffed. “Kata’s husband along with Indira’s father and mother were killed during the war. Janek’s wife is dead, and his son, Marko’s father, went to work on a cruise ship. He has not contacted us for over six years.”

“What about Marko’s mother?” Katie asked.

“She
give
him up and run away when he was baby,” Janek supplied, catching the fever of Stanley’s melancholy.

“Right then, we’ll stay until we can all find a way out of this,” Lucas replied, losing himself in thought.

Stanley wiped his eyes on Katie’s nightshirt. “You were brought into this situation against your will—please do not feel obligated to stay.”

“Marko…please…take the boy,”
Janek
pleaded.

Lucas looked at Stanley. “You were also brought into this situation against your will.” Stanley shot Janek an aggravated scowl. Lucas continued, “We owe you our lives. We’ll stay with you.”

“Thank you,” Stanley choked, and renewed his sobs.

Katie wrapped her arms around her once-jolly neighbor, returning his head to her shoulder.

“We might…” Lucas hesitated, “…want to call in some authorities, but we can’t be guaranteed what will happen to Janek. If the other terrorists…” He winced at his choice of words. “Sorry, um, if the other…the others…name him as an accomplice, he could face punishment—harsh punishment. Of course Katie and I can plead his case and try to lessen the penalty, but there’s no guarantee.” He lowered his head solemnly and motioned for Katie to follow him back upstairs. “We’ll leave you two to discuss the options.”

The BBC was still broadcasting the story of their disappearance when Katie and Lucas reentered the main room. A hostage negotiations expert was giving his opinion of the situation. Kata, engrossed at her sewing table, took no notice of them as they reclaimed their seats on the floor. Indira’s dull eyes lit up as she made a silent inquiry by stroking her frail hand down Katie’s hair. Upon receiving Katie’s permissive smile, she gathered it up and resumed playing hairdresser.

Katie gave a disgusted grunt at the completely inaccurate yarn the hostage expert was spinning. She turned to Kata, who, like everyone else, looked tired. But her tiredness was a part of her being—aged into her soul. Katie wondered at the adversity this woman had known to look so worn. A shoebox full of horsehair and an overturned stool sat at Kata’s feet. Continuously, the woman gathered a clump of
strands, blunt-cut them to create even ends, then wove them several times through three strands of fishing line that were tied across the stool legs. Katie studied her process with interest as her nimble fingers rapidly pulled together the beginnings of a weft of hair.

“She’s making a wig for Indira,” Stanley announced from the entryway, answering the curiosity in Katie’s face. “We hope she can return to her schooling this fall.” He beamed with pride at his ailing young niece.

Both she and Lucas, startled by the sooner-than-expected sound of his voice, stared at him expectantly.

Stanley met their gaze with anxiety in his eyes. “It is as I suspected. We are under surveillance. Two men wait in their vehicle outside the gate. If there are any men on the grounds, I don’t know. We have decided Janek must face his consequences.”

Lucas nodded and raised himself to a stand, his natural, easygoing stride replaced by a serious, businesslike approach. “Is there a telephone I may use?”

“I keep a cell phone for emergencies. The reception is not good.” Indicating the approximate location of the phone, Stanley jerked his head in the direction of the back bedrooms.

“We will now take you to Croatia, where United States Secretary of State Harriett Clayton is about to begin a press conference,”
the BBC broadcaster announced. In the blink of an eye, Harriett Clayton stood larger than life on the television screen, in front of a podium flanked by two American flags, with Lottie, Charles, and Lord and Lady Waverly seated off to the side.

Like two small children, Lucas and Stanley dropped to their knees in front of the television and stared slack-jawed at the screen.

“Katie, perhaps you should notify your government first,” Lucas suggested in response to seeing the American government already in action.

“Oh right, let me just pull their hostage hotline number out of my pocket. Oh wait! Oh darn! I must have misplaced it when I put on this nightshirt,” she retorted, feeling nervy at the realization of just how massive their situation had grown.

Lucas did not chuckle at her snarky remark. “Maybe Stanley has a phone directory.”

“No need for a phonebook. I know the number for the U.S. Embassy here,” Stanislaus supplied proudly.

They both turned to him with planet-sized eyes.

“Wha—?”
Katie began.

“I was considering applying for citizenship…I had lots of questions,” Stanislaus explained.

“So you called the embassy?” Katie replied.

“
Shhh
,” Lucas silenced the exchange. “She’s about to speak.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,
I am here on behalf of President Obama and the United States of America to rebuke the insupportable act that has been taken against one of our fellow citizens, Kathryn Sutherland, who was taken hostage, along with her British employer, Lucas Hayden, three days ago.

“Our hearts and our condolences go out to the families and friends of these two victims. I stand here today to give them my assurance that the American and British governments are working diligently to not only bring these hostages home safely, but also to locate and bring to justice the terrorists who have the audacity to capture, torture, and use our citizens as political pawns.

“To the Bosnian rebels who have claimed responsibility for this act of terror, I beseech you to release these two innocent people. We agonize over the horrific tragedies that have plagued your country…”

“Is that where we are? Bosnia?” Katie interrupted with inopportune giddiness.

Stanley nodded dismissively, trying to stay tuned on Harriett.

“Wow! I’ve always wanted to visit Bosnia. Stanley, how come you never told me you were from Bosnia? I would have had so many questions to ask you!”

“
Shhh
!”
Lucas and
Stanley
ordered in unison.

“…want to have sustainable peace in your country, the American government—and, I am sure, the British government—will not tolerate being bullied into taking action for any cause.”

There was an explosion of applause set in motion by Lord Waverly.

“I have an idea!” Katie broke in.

“
Shhh
!” was the commanding response from both men.

“I will not
shhhh
!” she rejoined, annoyed at being shushed for the third time in as many minutes. “I have something important to say!”

They turned to her, reluctant to peel their eyes from the red skirt-suited Harriett, absorbing her commendations.

“We should call your parents or the Waverlys, seeing how they’re sitting right next to the Secretary of State!”

Lucas blinked a couple of times as if his mind staggered under the weight of the suggestion. Stanley’s face registered his
comprehension, and without another second’s delay, he bolted down the hallway and retrieved the cell phone.

Lucas watched the service bars on the phone flip intermittently between zero and one-half. Thinking quickly, he punched out a text message, careful to repeat word for word Stanley’s directions to the farmhouse, and sent a copy to Andrew, Sidney, Geoffrey, his parents, and Lady Waverly. Harriett Clayton was wrapping up her speech, and Lucas was anxious to make contact before she left the podium and, subsequently, the company of his parents.

“Come on, come on!” he urged the sporadic signal, wielding the phone in every direction.

Another thunder of applause burst from the television, and Harriett began moving from the platform. She paused, stopping to shake someone’s hand as the phone chimed in Lucas’s hand, flashing a “message sent” indicator.

They watched with baited breath, knowing their fates depended on the speed of Stanley’s lousy service provider. The cameras followed Harriett’s exit, also leaving the forms of Lottie, Charles, and Lord and Lady Waverly.

“We have just heard United States Secretary of State Harriett Clayton give a poignant speech on behalf of American hostage Kathryn Sutherland,”
the voiceover of the BBC announcer broke in as the camera cut back to the studio, leaving the group to fester in unfulfilled anticipation.

“We’ll now take you live to our American correspondent, Nancy Wallace, who is in Colorado at the home of Kathryn Sutherland, where quite a crowd of friends and well-wishers have gathered together in support of the hostage victim.”

The screen flipped from the news anchor to the front of Jim and Sheila’s home.

Katie’s mouth dropped wide open in disbelief.

Tents and sleeping bags populated the lawn, where people milled about holding candles and wearing concerned faces.

“Yes, it’s nearly dawn here in Colorado, but as you can see behind me…” the reporter gestured to the home in the background
,
“people from all around the country have gathered here at the home of Kathryn Sutherland to express their love and support. We’ve seen quite a few notable figures here. Sheila Evans, who plays Eve St. Sebastian on the popular American daytime drama
Love’s Lionesses,
is here and has agreed to grant us an exclusive interview. I just found out only moments ago that Sheila raised Katie along with her own son, Christopher. As you can imagine, she’s deeply affected by this tragedy and has taken a temporary leave from filming.”

Katie scooted closer to the screen. She couldn’t believe Sheila would be caught on camera looking this horrible.
Unless she were truly distraught.
She took in Sheila’s grieving voice offering money and autographed headshots in exchange for Katie’s safe return. Katie’s heart clenched. Sheila was not acting; she really was an anguished mother. Standing right beside her, united in grief as if they’d never had an argument, was Jim, pleading for his daughter’s safe return.