Torn Apart (20 page)

Then J.R. was on the bed beside her, kissing every inch of her body, loving her with words as well as touch. She didn’t know that she was crying. The universe was centering on the building need deep in her belly and the man who slid between her legs.

J.R. groaned. She felt so good. But guilt was battering his thoughts. It seemed obscene, taking this pleasure when his son was lost and suffering. Then Katie slid her arms around his neck and nothing else mattered. He needed to be healed as badly as she did. They needed to forgive each other before they could go forward, and making love to Katie was his way of setting things right. It was an affirmation of their faith and trust in each other, and a combining of their strengths to face the uncertainty of the days ahead.

He looked down at her face, saw the tears on her cheeks and began kissing them away.

Katie trembled. He was deep inside her, yet motionless. For the first time in months she felt complete. She pulled him close, then whispered in his ear, “Make love to me, Johnny.”

J.R.’s vision blurred. For a second, her words transported him back to another place and time—to their senior year in high school, just after Halloween, the night they first made love.

Make love to me, Johnny.

He could no more refuse her now than he could then. Bracing his hands on either side of her body, he started to rock. When she shuddered, then moaned, his pulse leaped.

“I love you, baby,” he said softly, then began moving a little faster, a little deeper.

One minute turned into two, and then three, and still he rocked inside her. Heat built between them until they were slick with sweat and lost in the motion. Over and over, harder and harder, deeper and deeper—while the coil tightened in their bellies.

Suddenly Katie lost it. The climax was like an explosion, sending shock waves throughout her body.

When J.R. felt her tremors, he didn’t hold back. He came hard and fast, then collapsed on top of her.

Katie was still trembling when he wrapped her in his arms and shifted her until they were lying back to front, spooned against each other. Their embrace was desperate, fueled by a subconscious fear that if they parted again, neither would survive.

Slowly their labored breathing eased and the room grew quiet. It took forever before he felt her body relax. She’d finally gone to sleep.

But tonight, sleep evaded him. He couldn’t quit thinking of Bobby. The ache in his chest continued to swell until tears were running down his face.

“I will find you, son,” he said softly. “Just have faith. Daddy’s coming.”

Katie flinched in her sleep, as if echoing his promise.

Eleven

Friday

A
half dozen men were waiting in the outer office of the police department when Hershel got to work. Despite their matching haircuts and casual clothes, he would have recognized them by their serious expressions alone. When he noticed they were carrying, he knew he was right.

DEA.

Babcock’s search team had arrived.

The tall, sandy-haired man nearest the door stood first, as the others followed.

“Chief Porter?”

“That’s me,” Hershel said. “Gentlemen, would you join me in my office?”

Vera’s eyes were big as saucers, but she knew enough to refrain from comment. Still, he could only imagine what she was thinking. Six armed men waiting for him to walk in. She’d probably been freaking out until he got in to work. As he walked past her desk, it occurred to him to wonder what the agents had thought about her. Sometime between last night and this morning she’d gone from red and curly to long and blonde. He sighed. Vera sure was fond of her wigs.

“Hold my calls,” he said shortly.

She nodded, watching curiously as the men followed her boss down the hall.

Hershel entered the office, stepped aside for the men to enter, then closed the door and offered his hand.

“I’m Hershel Porter, police chief of Bordelaise. Sorry, I don’t have enough chairs for all of you.”

“Chief Porter, pleasure to meet you, sir,” the sandy-haired man said. “Agent Edwards, DEA.” Then he went down the line, introducing the other men. “As you’ve probably guessed, Captain Babcock sent us. We’ll be helping you search for the missing prisoners. What exactly is the status of the search?”

“It was called off a couple of days ago. I ended up with four search teams going in four different directions. We were looking for the prisoners, and also the body of a little boy who’d gone missing. However, we just learned last night that the child was not a victim of the storm but, we believe, of a child molester.”

The men were visibly concerned about the news.

“That’s a rough one. I take it you had no luck with the search for the prisoners, either?” Edwards asked.

“Not so much as a footprint or a shred of clothing. You understand that this is bayou country. That means swamps and gators in abundance. If those prisoners had the misfortune to go airborne, then land in the swamps, their bodies are long gone.”

Edwards blanched. He was friends with Nick Aroyo, the missing undercover agent, and the thought of his friend meeting such a fate was daunting.

“If you don’t mind, we’d like to see the jail, then we’ll begin our own search from there.”

“Yeah, sure. They’re about finished with repairs. Still have to shingle the roof, but the concrete-block walls have been replaced. Follow me.”

Although it was close to 8:00 a.m., Katie was still asleep. A short while earlier J.R. had awakened with tears on his face, but it hadn’t taken long for his despair to turn to anger. He wasn’t going to sit back and wait for the police to find Bobby. Too many days had passed, and they were going to need all the help they could get.

As he looked down at the woman in his arms, his heart twisted. She seemed so frail. All that dark hair and pale skin, all the scratches and fading bruises from the injuries she’d suffered during the storm, just reminded him of what she’d gone through alone. He brushed a kiss across her forehead.

“I’m sorry, Katie girl. But you’re not alone anymore,” he whispered.

Katie stirred, but didn’t wake.

Carefully, he scooted out of bed, grabbed some clean clothes from his bag and headed for the bathroom.

It was the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of the shower in the adjoining bathroom that woke Katie up.

J.R. was home!

The moment she thought his name, she opened her eyes and the memories came flooding back. There was no home anymore. She was at Penny Bates’s house, and Bobby was missing. Her stomach knotted as a familiar pall settled back over her soul.

Then she reminded herself that there was a positive to this. She’d thought he was dead, but now there was hope. That was something she’d thought she’d lost.

She threw back the covers and got out of bed just as she heard the shower go off. A couple of minutes later J.R. came out wearing Levi’s but minus his shirt. His body was so beautiful to her—washboard abs and that olive complexion. Then she thought of last night and how much it meant that they were no longer at odds. The distance that had stretched between them was gone. If they could only find Bobby, their life would be perfect.

“Good, you’re up,” J.R. said, then reached for a T-shirt and pulled it over his head. “I’ve been thinking about something off and on all night, and I want to run it by Chief Porter. As soon as we eat breakfast, let’s go down to the office.”

“Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” Katie said.

He cupped her cheek as he bent down and kissed her, then whispered in her ear, “Good morning, my love.”

“Thank you,” Katie said.

“For what?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Oh…just for you being you.”

He nodded. “Want some toast?”

“I don’t think…”

“I was just being polite by asking. You
will
eat some breakfast before we go.”

She sighed. He was right. She needed to keep up her strength for the days ahead.

“Then yes to the toast.”

He nodded. “See you in a few.”

Katie hurried into the bathroom. There was no time to dawdle. They had places to go and people to see. And if they were blessed, they were also one day closer to finding Bobby.

J.R. pulled up in front of the police department and got out.

Despite the questions Katie had asked during breakfast, he’d been evasive about what he was going to suggest to the chief. She had finally given up, but he could tell her curiosity was as sharp as ever.

She joined him on the sidewalk; then they walked in together. Vera was already on duty. Katie tried not to stare at the very fake blond wig, then gave it up as a lost cause. “Nice color,” she said.

Vera beamed. “I think it goes good with my skin tone, don’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Katie said, and tried not to smile.

“Is the chief in?” J.R. asked.

“Yes. Go on back. I’ll let him know you’re coming.”

They started down the hallway, only to have the chief step out of his office and motion them in.

“Good morning,” he said, as they settled in chairs in front of his desk. “Can I get you some coffee?”

Katie shook her head.

“No thanks,” J.R. added. “I’m going to get right to the subject. I have a question regarding Bobby’s disappearance.”

Hershel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

“Not sure I’ll have an answer, but ask away.”

“Something has been bothering me about the timeline of the abduction.”

“Like what?” Hershel asked.

“What I want to know is, how long did the sirens blow before the tornado actually hit town?”

Hershel looked at Katie, then shrugged. “I’d say no more than five minutes, probably less. What do you think, Katie?”

“That sounds about right.”

“Then that means whoever took Bobby had to seek shelter immediately, which means he most likely lives here, and if he does…”

Hershel’s eyes widened. “I never thought about it that way. Unfortunately, until you showed up last night, we were all pretty certain it was you who’d taken him.”

“I know,” J.R. said. “And I understand. It would be a logical assumption when I didn’t return any of the emergency calls. This whole thing has been one big screwup, and I’m sorrier than I have the words to say.”

Katie reached for his hand.

He glanced at her, then had to look away. He didn’t know what was going to happen to her if they couldn’t find Bobby. She’d nearly come apart when her parents died. This would be the end of her. He knew it.

“The point I was trying to make is…if the abduction was happening at the same time the tornado was hitting the other side of Bordelaise, then there’s no way he could have outrun the storm by driving out of town.”

“But he’s had nearly a week to make a getaway,” Hershel pointed out.

“Well, what if he couldn’t? What if he never intended to leave? Everyone thought Bobby had been taken by the tornado, so he had a free pass. No one would be looking for Bobby, only his body.”

“Oh, my God,” Katie whispered, then scooted to the edge of her chair. “You’re right! Dear Lord, J.R., you’re right! Up until Thursday, everyone thought he was dead, including me.”

J.R. nodded.

“That’s a damn good theory,” Hershel said. “And like I told you, I’ve already got one of my deputies contacting the DMV for a list of people who own blue pickups, and another working on a list of registered sex offenders. If he’s on those lists, we’ll find him.”

“What if he isn’t registered?” Katie asked. “What if it’s someone living among us and nobody knows?”

Hershel shrugged. “It’s possible, I’ll admit. But checking those lists is a start.”

“We’re going to start looking in town for men with blue trucks,” J.R. said.

Hershel frowned. “You’ll just be wasting your time. Half the people in here drive out of town every day to work, most of them in Baton Rouge, the others on the fishing boats. You can drive all over town and still miss half the owners.”

“I can’t just sit and wait,” J.R. said.

“Then look, if it will make you happy,” Hershel offered. “But don’t approach anyone on your own. Just write down tag numbers and addresses, and we’ll go from there.”

J.R. nodded, then stood, but Katie still had a question.

“Chief, when do you think you’ll get those lists?”

“It’s going to take a little time. Surely by this afternoon, though. I’ll definitely keep you updated on our progress. I thought about putting out an Amber Alert, but once that hits the media, it will also alert the perp that we’re on to him. Plus we’d be inundated with calls, and we’d have to follow up. That would take time and manpower—manpower I don’t have—and it will be a better use of the men I do have to investigate those lists.”

“When you get them, let us know,” J.R. said. “Katie and I can come here and help you cross-check names to see if any show up on both lists.”

Reluctant to get civilians involved in matters of the law, Hershel played it safe. “We’ll see how it goes,” he said, then walked them to the door. “Remember what I said about not confronting anyone on your own. That’s my department.”

“Yes, sir,” Katie said,

J.R. nodded at Vera, who was just coming up the hall, as he closed the door behind them.

“Lord, Lord,” Vera said to Hershel as she entered the office, then wiped her eyes and blew her nose on a tissue. “If this isn’t just the saddest thing.”

Hershel frowned. “Sad doesn’t even come close. Where’s Tullius? He’s supposed to be working on getting me that list from the DMV.”

“I’ll put out a call,” she said.

“When you find him, put him through to my office,” Hershel said, then stomped out of the room.

Newt had been awake for almost an hour, and had just finished taking a shower so he could apply fresh dressings to his burns. Dr. Luke had scared the shit out of him. He didn’t want to catch that flesh-eating disease. He didn’t want his dick to fall off. And more important, he didn’t want to die. He and the kid hadn’t even had a chance to play.

He turned off the shower and stepped out, leaving the wet washcloth in the bottom of the tub. After two failed attempts to dry off, he gave it up as too painful and reached for the medicated salve.