Nothing to Fear (35 page)

“I know you didn’t. So I thought of it for you. I told Caroline you got a new family in tonight that was taking all your attention. Max is making sure she doesn’t see TV. I haven’t heard it on the news, anyway. She says for you to get some rest. Bye.”

And he was gone. Carefully she hung up the hotel phone and sat, numb until Ethan sat on the bed and pulled her into his arms. He settled her on his lap, cradling her against him.

“I messed up, Ethan. I trusted her, brought her into my house. And now Evie is gone.”

“Dana, what could you have done differently? Asked for references? What would happen if you asked all your clients for proof they’d been beaten and battered?”

“They wouldn’t come,” Dana murmured.

“No, they wouldn’t. How many women have you helped have happy lives?”

Dana sighed. “More than a hundred. Maybe.”

“More than a hundred women with their children. Think of the lives you’ve changed. Dana, you took a risk. I can’t say I’m happy that you put yourself in danger from men like this Goodman character, but you risked yourself for something you believe. That makes you pretty damn special in my book.”

Dana felt a swell of pride such as she hadn’t felt in a long time. He understood. This man who had given up so much himself understood. “You did, too. Risked yourself for something you believed in.”

“Yes, I did. I believed in the defense of our country.”

“And in saving Alec. You risked your livelihood.”

His nod was sober. “A by-the-book cop could press charges. But what good would my livelihood be if Alec isn’t safe? How could I have looked in the mirror, Dana? How could you, knowing you’d denied someone the hope of a better life? Sue is a bottom feeder. You said it yourself to Randi—she’s a manipulator. That you brought her into your shelter isn’t your failing. And from what you’ve told me about Evie—she’s a survivor. She’ll hang on until we get there. Wherever she is.”

And sitting there on his lap, looking into his steady green eyes, she felt some of the pain ease. Not all. Not even most. But enough to get her through the next five minutes and perhaps the next five minutes after that. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

His thumb swept across her lips in a gentle caress. “Let’s go eat and sort out this mess with the cops.” He stood up, still holding her in his arms, and gently lowered her legs until her toes touched the carpet. Until she stood in the circle of his arms, his lips a breath away from hers, his eyes asking for what his voice did not. She answered, closing the distance herself, raising on her toes, covering his mouth with hers. Offering him the same comfort he’d given her. His hands came up to bracket her jaws, so gently. This kiss was chaste, but warm. He ended it with a nudge and a second kiss placed on her forehead.

“I needed that,” he confessed. “More than I realized.”

“So did I.” She let out a breath, squared her shoulders. “I’m ready now. Let’s go.”

Chicago, Wednesday, August 4, 7:15 P.M.

James looked up from his meal when the man sat down. Nervously the man drummed his fingers against the table. “So,” James said, “you work for Donnie Marsden.” Donnie Marsden had been arrested with Sue all those years ago. They’d been partners.

“For a year,” the man confirmed. His eyes were twitchy, looking every direction at once.

“Your boss says he hasn’t seen Sue Conway. Is he lying?”

“I don’t know if he’s seen her. But he’s talked to her, a couple of times. I listened in on the extension, just like you said to do.”

James wanted to smile. Everybody had a price. Marsden couldn’t be bought for fifteen thousand. His runner was spilling his guts for five hundred. “So what have they said?”

Sweat was beading on the man’s upper lip. “He’s meeting her tonight. Something’s going down because Donnie’s been callin’ all the boys. It’ll be Friday night.”

James smiled. “I’ll double your pay if you can tell me exactly where and when.”

The man stood up. “I’ll do it. Thanks.”

James watched him slouch from the restaurant. “No, thank you.”

Chapter Seventeen

Chicago, Wednesday, August 4, 8:30 P.M.

Dana made an attempt to eat, managing to down a few bites of a sandwich before rising to pace in front of the big picture window. Randi sat on the sofa, rocking herself. Stan just sat, his expression one of dull disbelief. For all his brave words, Ethan couldn’t choke down a bite. Fortunately the oppressive silence was short-lived. A sharp knock came from the door and Ethan opened it to find Mitchell and Reagan standing there, grim-faced.

“Let us in,” Reagan said, “and we’ll talk.”

Randi came to her feet, a heartbreaking mix of bald hope and sheer terror on her face. “What’s happened? Have you found Alec?”

Mia shook her head. “No, ma’am. I take it you’re Alec’s mother? Or the woman who’s been acting as his mother for the last ten years.”

“I told them that much,” Dana said. “I didn’t know if it would make a difference in involving the FBI.” She shrugged uneasily. “Because it’s not really a kidnapping.”

Randi lifted her chin. “I’m Alec’s mother.” Her tone dared them to disagree.

Reagan stepped forward. “For now, that’s what matters. Let’s find Alec first and sort through the rest later. I’m Detective Reagan and this is my partner, Detective Mitchell. Please have a seat, Mrs. Vaughn, and tell us what you know.”

Randi’s courage seemed to melt away as she looked from Reagan to Mitchell to Moore. “She said she’d kill Alec if we went to the police or the FBI,” she said, her voice uneven.

Reagan gently pushed her to the sofa and took the chair next to her. “This has gone way beyond Alec now, Mrs. Vaughn. This woman has ruthlessly murdered at least six people. Innocent people that had families that loved them. One woman was a mother of three small girls. She’s never coming home to her children, Mrs. Vaughn. This is bigger than any fears you have of the police. We decided not to go to the FBI yet, but you need to tell us what you know. We might be your only hope of seeing your son alive again.”

Randi’s eyes filled, tears spilled down her cheeks. “You can’t possibly understand.”

“Of course we can’t,” Reagan said, still gently. “But I can tell you that I’m a father, too.”

“Then you’d do anything to protect your child,” Randi whispered fiercely.

“If, God forbid, anything like this happened to my baby girl, I’d want Detective Mitchell handling my case. She’s good at her job. So am I. You have to trust us. Please.”

Ethan crouched at her side, took her icy hands in his. “You know it’s the right thing to do. We took this as far as we could, but Detective Reagan is right. Tell him everything.”

Randi visibly wavered. “Just one little girl, Detective?”

He pulled out his wallet and opened it to a chubby little angel with bright red curls.

“She’s pretty,” Randi whispered.

“Like her mother. Mrs. Vaughn, please talk to me. I can get the facts from Ethan or Dana, but you have memories they don’t. They could be critical to finding Alec in time.” He dipped his head, looked directly at her. “And time is something we’re running out of.”

“All right.” Randi sat back, and clutching Ethan’s hands, told the same story she’d told earlier. “I never expected her to do something like this,” she finished on a whisper. “I thought she’d be in prison for another five years. I’m not even sure how she found me.”

Clay caught Ethan’s eye and lifted his brows. Ethan nodded and Clay cleared his throat. “Randi, do you know anything about a woman named Leeds living in Florida?”

What little bit of color that remained in Randi’s face drained. “Sun City, Florida?”

Clay and Ethan looked at each other. “Yeah,” Ethan said. “Who was she?”

Randi closed her eyes. “My mother. She was murdered six weeks ago when she woke up and surprised a robber. It was no robber, was it?”

“Did you go to the funeral, Mrs. Vaughn?” Reagan asked her.

“I . . . Yes, I had to. I hadn’t seen my mother in over eleven years. I told my parents about Alec, about what Sue had done, that she’d been arrested. I begged them to disappear and they did. But she must have found them. My father died three years ago and I never got to see him again. I couldn’t miss Mom’s funeral. I went to the graveside and stood far away. Nobody even saw me,” she said, a little desperately, then she sagged. “It was a setup, wasn’t it? My mother was killed to draw me out.”

Ethan patted her knee. “It would seem so,” he murmured.

“Maynard, how do you know about this woman?” Moore asked quietly.

“Will the disk cover this?” Clay asked.

“What disk?” Ethan asked.

“The one that was accompanied by several spreadsheets showing just how Mr. Vaughn made his fortune,” Moore replied, not taking her eyes from Clay’s face. “Came in the box with the finger. Most likely yes, but it will depend on what you’ve done.”

“You sonofabitch,” Stan snarled, jumping to his feet. “You turned me in.”

“Sit down, Mr. Vaughn,” Sheriff Moore commanded in a voice that seemed to echo off the walls of the hotel suite. “Or I’ll cuff you here and now.”

Randi’s face dulled with shock as Stan sank down into his chair. “You turned him in?”

Clay lifted a brow. “Yes. Stan broke the law. I was legally bound to turn him in.”

“But he’ll go to jail,” she whispered.

Clay’s face hardened. “Better him than Ethan and me. We’ve helped you at personal risk. I may lose my license over this. Ethan might, too, if these officers choose to press charges against us. We’ll lose our business. We’re not going to jail for Stan, too.”

Detective Mitchell stepped into the middle of the room, her hands raised like a traffic cop. “We’ll sort out personal culpability later,” she said in a level voice. “For now, Mr. Maynard, assume whatever information you gave Sheriff Moore will protect you, because every minute you spend negotiating is time Conway is free.”

“So how did you know, Maynard?” Moore asked again.

“Conway fired a warning shot in the beach house. I had a friend run the ballistics. It matched a slug used in a robbery in Florida a month ago in which a woman was killed.”

Moore sighed. “Just to be straight, you removed evidence from the scene of a crime.”

“I did.” Clay leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest.

Moore sighed again. “I thought so. As long as we’re connecting dots, I found Bryce Lewis, Sue’s brother. He’s in jail in Ocean City for attempted armed robbery.” She told them about the West Virginia detective and Rickman’s prints on the missing power cord. “Lewis has an alibi for Rickman’s murder, but not McMillan’s.”

“Has Bryce Lewis been charged, Sheriff?” Reagan asked.

“With the attempted armed robbery. We needed more evidence to charge him with McMillan’s murder. But he knew about it.” Moore nodded in satisfaction. “Anyway, right after Janson and I left, Bryce gets a visit from one James Lorenzano. He’s got mob ties in New York. He visited Bryce again this morning. Between visits, Bryce was beaten badly.”

“But why did Lorenzano visit Lewis?” Mia asked, her brow furrowed. “Unless he’s looking for Sue. Buchanan, didn’t you say you thought there was an accomplice?”

Ethan nodded. “She gave us the slip when she bought those tickets to St. Louis.”

“Maybe,” Clay said, “it was Lorenzano she was trying to lose.”

Ethan stood up and walked over to the window where Dana stood, once again alone in a crowded room. He put his arm around her shoulders, felt her stiffen. “What I want to know is how did Sue find you, Dana? Out of all the shelters in Chicago, why yours?”

Dana frowned, afraid she knew both how and why. Afraid of what else Sue knew. “Somebody obviously told her about us. She was an inmate at Hillsboro. Mia, call the prison and ask about Conway’s cell mates or any women she came in contact with that had histories of abuse.” She chewed on her lower lip. “Ask if Sue knew a woman named Tammy Fields.” If she did, that would be the link, right there.

“Who was Tammy Fields, Dana?” Ethan murmured.

She looked up at him, troubled. “A former client. She left Hanover House with big plans for herself and her kids, but got scared and went back to her husband. I saw on the news that she’d shot him. The defense tried battered wife syndrome, but the jury didn’t buy it. She’d been gone a month. When she went back, her actions seemed premeditated.”

“Did you testify, Miss Dupinsky?” Moore asked.

She turned to look at Moore. “No. Tammy never named Hanover House or me as part of her defense. I went to visit her in jail before her trial, even offered to testify as a character witness, but she said she’d done a terrible thing and she wasn’t about to ruin it for all the other women.” She looked away. “I have to admit I was relieved.”

“So you picked Jane up on Friday night,” Reagan prompted. “You told us at the station that her face was bruised. Perhaps this Lorenzano helped put the bruises there.”

“Perhaps, but it doesn’t explain how she got our number. If Tammy did tell her, Sue would have had to have a contact inside the prison. I think it’s more likely that she contacted Fred Oscola to get the shelter’s phone number from Tammy. Maybe Sue thought we’d believe her story better with the bruises.”

“I’ll get Oscola’s schedule,” Mia promised. “First thing tomorrow morning.”

“When did Sue leave the shelter?” Abe asked. “Be as specific as possible.”

“To my knowledge she didn’t leave Hanover House until Tuesday morning. Yesterday,” Dana clarified. “I told her she had to go look for a job. That’s what she said she’d done.”

“When did she come back to the shelter yesterday?” Reagan asked.

Dana faltered. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there—I was at the hospital with Caroline.” And then later here, in bed with Ethan. I was here, having the night of my life while . . . “I left Evie alone with her. All night.”

Ethan’s hand rested at the small of her back. “You didn’t know, Dana,” he insisted with quiet firmness. “You didn’t know.”

“I told her not to go back to the shelter, Abe,” Mia murmured. “We thought Goodman was watching her. Dr. Lee had just been killed.”

Dana nodded, her throat suddenly thick just thinking about Dr. Lee’s last moments. “Evie said he left suddenly and didn’t say good-bye. That he wrote a note saying he had another emergency and left some of Alec’s epilepsy medicine on the kitchen table.”