The Chocolate Garden (Dare River Book 2) (17 page)

“The police are on their way,” she yelled as loudly as she could. “Do you hear me? I’ve called the police! Get out of my house!”

Her throat tore from the force of her yell, and the phone rang in her hand. She picked it up and answered.

“Tammy,” the operator said. “Please stay on the line with me. The police have arrived.”

“Thank God,” she breathed out, her eyes trained on the door, one hand in a fist, ready to do whatever was needed.

Would they catch the son of a bitch fleeing from her house? God, she hoped so.

Making her way back to the kids, phone still in hand, she opened the stall door and closed it behind her, enclosing all three of them inside the sanctuary of glass and tile. Annabelle was sobbing uncontrollably now, and Rory had his arm wrapped around her and Barbie. He was weeping silently, and the sight of them in such misery shattered her heart into a million pieces.

“Sweeties, the police are here. Let Mama hold you.”

They crawled onto her lap, digging their nails into her skin as they clutched her. She rocked them gently, the phone still pressed to her ear.

“Tammy, the police have entered the house. We’ve communicated your location to them.”

Oh, thank God. Please hurry!

She waited, craning for any sound of their approach, sweat beading between her breasts now.

“Tammy. The police are at the bedroom door. Can you unlock it for them?” the operator asked.

“Yes,” she managed.

“Good,” the operator responded. “They’ll take good care of y’all, Tammy. I’m signing off now.”

After hanging up the phone, she pulled the kids up with her; their little faces pressed against her and their little arms wrapped around her legs like they were babies again, afraid of being left alone.

“Come on now,” she said, softening her voice. “Let’s go to the police.”

They shuffled together, a mass of quivering flesh and tear-stained skin. As they neared the door, a man called, “Ms. Hollins? This is Officer Timothy Jenkins with the Nashville police. Can you please open the door? Everything is safe now.”

Her hand shook as she turned on the overhead lights, the glow harsh at first, and opened the door. The uniformed man standing on the other side was built like a barrel. With him were two other policemen with square jaws and bulky vests.

The relief that she and the children weren’t alone finally broke through her haze of adrenaline.

“Ms. Hollins? Are you all right?”

“Yes.” She stooped to kiss the kids’ heads. “You were so brave.”

“Mama,”
Rory cried, tunneling his face into her side. “You left us.”

“I’m right here, baby.” She smoothed sweaty hair back from his forehead. Instead of the simple smell of boy, it carried a musky tang of fear. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Annabelle just continued to sob and take heaving breaths. Barbie was trembling on the floor at her feet, howling right along with her.

“Ms. Hollins? How about we get you and the kids up on that big bed over there?” the officer suggested.

She nodded. Her rubbery legs shook when she hefted Annabelle into her arms, but she wouldn’t let go for all the world. “Rory,” she said hoarsely. “Hold my hand.”

Her son’s swollen eyes shone with hurt and accusation when he looked up at her. “You locked Bandit out.”

Oh God. Where
was
his dog? The barking had stopped some time ago, and he wasn’t with the police. Had the intruder hurt him?

“Baby, we had to get somewhere safe.”

Rory pressed his face into her nightgown again. “What if the bad man hurt him?”

Her eyes met the officer’s, and in them, she could see the confirmation that that’s exactly what had happened…or worse.

Officer Jenkins patted a gentle hand on her arm as she passed him. “Come on, now. We’ll take care of the dog, son. Don’t you worry.”

Rory sniffed. “He’s my dog. He sleeps with me.”

When they made it to Rye’s massive bed, Tammy sunk heavily onto it with the kids and leaned back against the mahogany headboard. Her teeth started to chatter. Officer Jenkins found her a bathrobe—one of Tory’s—in the walk-in closet, and she awkwardly put it on, maneuvering around the little arms that curled around her like octopi.

She couldn’t stop shaking, so she pulled the blue comforter over them all.

Officer Jenkins sat on the bed with them. “Can you tell us what happened?”

The telling of the tale only made her body shake harder, and her voice didn’t work like it usually did, her hoarse words coming out between a spattering of pauses.

“Could you tell anything about the man?” the officer asked.

Her mind flashed a picture of that hulking shape. “It was…dark.” Her teeth clacked together, and she bit the inside of her mouth. “Big.”

“When he passed you, was he taller than you?”

“Yes…and he looked…like a…like a bull.”

“Big shoulders?” he asked.

She shook her head furiously, trying to call up more details, but there weren’t any. “I’m…sorry. That’s all...”

“What about when you saw him in the hallway?”

She thought back to that horrible moment, caught in his blinding light.

“The flashlight…it was on us. I…couldn’t see him. I just…knew he was there…the alarm…I fell asleep…sorry…”

Oh, God she was so cold. So cold.

“Okay, that’s fine. Really fine. Now, you just let us do our job. There are a lot of people here tonight to make sure we don’t miss anything. I’m going to stay with you for a bit while the others do what they’ve been trained for.”

“I need to call…my brother,” she said, rocking the kids. Oh, how she wished Rye was here.

“Do you want to use my phone?” he asked, pulling one from his pocket.

Her hand wouldn’t move to reach it, almost as if she’d had a stroke. Finally, it lifted into the air. “I can’t…remember the number…”

“We’ll get your cell phone then. Where is it?”

“In my…be-be-bedroom.”

“Okay. Robbins.”

“Yes, sir,” said another officer standing in the doorway. He disappeared for a few minutes and returned with her phone.

Her fingers kept hitting the wrong buttons on the smartphone, and the officer finally had to help her by pulling up the number from the contact list. When Rye answered, she squeezed her eyes shut to fight fresh tears.

“Rye!” His name was a whimper.

“Honey, oh, thank God! Christ, Tammy, are you and the kids okay? We’ve been beside ourselves.”

“We’re safe…now,” she said, trying to stop her voice from quivering, but it just wouldn’t obey. “Oh, Rye…it was horrible.”

“I’m so sorry, darlin’. The alarm company called my phone the minute the panic button went off. I just…I wanted to tear something apart to get to y’all.”

Even in his violence, his voice trembled like hers, and she couldn’t reply over the tears coursing down her cheeks.

“We’re flying home as soon as the plane arrives,” he added after a jagged inhalation.

“But…you hate flying,” she sputtered.

“Jesus, I’d fly to the moon right now to get to you and the kids. Honey, I’ve arranged for Amelia Ann to come home from her business trip as well, and Daddy’s coming.” He sniffed then, something she’d never heard him do, and she gave another sob.

“How are the kids?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Scared.”

“I called J.P., and he’s going to come stay with y’all until we get there.”

She wouldn’t be alone. The relief was almost too much to bear. “That’s…” Her words dried up.

“Clayton is already looking into hiring additional security for the house after the police leave. I swear to you I’ll keep you and the kids safe.”

She knew he meant it, but it didn’t change what had happened. “I know that.”

“I love you, Tammy. And the kids. We’ll be there as fast as we can. Tory sends her love too.”

“Uh-huh,” she whispered.

“Hang on, darlin’.”

When he ended the call, all she could do was rock her babies and say, “Shh…Mama’s here.”

She kept reminding herself that her family was on the way as she watched hulky officers pass the open doorway in bullet-proof vests, firearms on their belts, radios chattering, a constant reminder of the violence that had come into their home.

When John Parker appeared in the doorway with another officer, her lip trembled and all she wanted to do was run across the room and have him sweep her up in his arms, anchoring her so her shaking would stop.

His face looked white under his summer tan as he finally rushed toward them. Kneeling on the bed, he wrapped his arms around them all. She couldn’t move her own arms, but she wanted to clutch him the same way the kids were clutching her. She pressed her face into the stubble on his cheek instead. His soap of forest and spice filled her nose and helped her draw a deep, fortifying breath.

“I’m here,” he told them. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”

She knew he was only trying to comfort them, but deep down she also knew it was nothing but a polite lie.

Nothing was ever going to be okay again.

Chapter 13

Holding the woman he loved and the kids to whom he’d given his heart, John Parker vowed nothing would
ever
harm them again. When Rye had woken him from a dead sleep at 4:04 a.m. with the news of the break-in, he’d rushed out of the house carrying his shoes in his hands, imagining with each mile what might have happened. And how he somehow could have prevented it if only he’d been with them.

As he held them now, everyone crying, his throat swelled up like a balloon, and he simply couldn’t speak. His eyes grew wet as well, and he pressed his face into Tammy’s soft blond hair, trying to pull himself together.

He needed to be strong for her. She’d been so strong tonight, getting herself and the kids to safety, and now it was his turn to step up.

The officers had stepped out of the room and were speaking quietly in the hallway, giving them some privacy. Rye had greased the wheels for his arrival, so he’d been allowed through the police barricade at the gate after showing his driver’s license—thank God he’d remembered to bring his wallet, rushing out of the house like he had. Six police vehicles were parked in front of the house, and men were swarming the property, one with a German shepherd. When he’d been cleared to go into the house, another canine unit had been coming up from Rye’s record studio in the lower level.

He hadn’t stopped and asked questions; his whole compass had been pointing him to Tammy and the kids.

But he had questions.

A whole pile of them, and for the hundredth time, he wondered if one of Rye’s fans could have done this. Right now, it was the only explanation that made sense, and based on their quick conversation on the phone, Rye agreed.

Speculation could wait. Tammy and the kids needed him as much as he needed them right now.

“I was so worried about y’all,” he finally said, finding his voice again. He kissed Tammy’s hair and then the kids’ too.

“Oh…Mr. McGuiness…” Annabelle sobbed then, and it was like someone had driven a pitchfork straight through his heart.

Poor little baby girl. He rubbed her back. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m here now. It’ll be all right now. Your Mama took right good care of y’all. Y’all were so brave.”

One of the kids had wet their pants, and the odor of fear was ripe in the room. Hot tears from Tammy and the kids coated his neck and shirt. He sensed Tammy’s struggle to regain control. He shifted and sat against the headboard, then pulled her and the kids as much onto his lap as was possible, Annabelle’s little dog too.

Rory knuckled away tears and lifted his eyes, and John Parker would have given a million dollars never to see another kid stare at him like that. “Bandit’s gone.”

Fear squeezed his guts. If that bastard had…

The kid’s voice fell to a whisper. “I think the bad man hurt him.”

His rage peaked, but since he didn’t know what to say, he just rubbed the child’s back.

Tammy raised her head then, and their eyes locked. He could see in hers the same fearful certainty he felt.

Something had happened to the boy’s precious dog.

They lapsed into silence, and when John Parker sensed the tears had dried and the trembling had leveled off, he shifted to pull his phone out and dial Rye.

“I’m here. Everyone’s safe.”

“Good. Belle has finalized arrangements for a private plane for Tory and me. Dammit, I wish we weren’t so far away by bus, but it would take us eleven hours to get there, and that’s way too fucking long. Once the plane gets here, we should be there in a couple hours.”

“We’ll be here.” There was so much more he wanted to say, but he couldn’t speak freely with the kids around.

“Put Tammy on for a moment.”

John Parker looked down at the mussed blond head cradled against his chest. She hadn’t moved except to comfort the kids and lean into him.

“Tammy, honey,” he whispered. “Rye wants to talk to you.”

She lifted her face. It was chalk-white.

“Rye?” she said softly when she took the phone. Their conversation was short, and soon she nodded and said, “We’ll see you soon.” She handed John Parker back the phone.

“Rye?”

“Thanks…for being there.”

Had he ever heard Rye’s voice break before? “You don’t need to say it.” He clicked off and threw the phone across the bed.

“Come on, y’all, let’s lay back and rest a bit.”

Annabelle’s body hadn’t moved for a while. He thought she was asleep, but couldn’t see her face, which was buried in Barbie’s dark fur. He eased them back until everyone was in a reclined position. Rory finally fell asleep too.

“You should get some sleep too, honey,” he whispered to Tammy. “You did enough tonight. I’m here.” He reached out a hand to cup her cheek, more than concerned about the glassiness in her hazel eyes. Shock, he knew, a power-pack dose of it.

“I should probably change Annabelle,” she whispered, her voice steadier now. “She’s wet.”

“It can wait a while.” She was sleeping, and he didn’t know whether the officers would let them move through the house to get her a change of clothes. “Lie on down. See if you can rest a bit.”

“Mama,” Rory whispered suddenly, and John Parker glanced over to see that the kid was only half-asleep. “Have they found Bandit yet?”