When the Heart Lies (26 page)

“Do you remember meeting a man named Wayde Mather?”

After an audible, deeply drawn breath, Carolyn was oddly silent.

Detective Mills spoke over the phone. “Mrs. Ericson?”

“Yes, I’m here. I do remember him. Wayde was her parents’ chauffeur. Angela had known him a couple years by the time I met him. He wasn’t a nice man. Well, she said he seemed very charming at first. As time went on, his behavior became calculated and obsessive. She never told her parents about us spending time with him. Angela felt they would be upset that she’d gotten to know him at all, considering he was the chauffeur. Angela’s always confided in me about the pain she’s suffered over Wayde’s obsession with her.”

“Do you know if he and Angela maintained contact? Was there any mention of him when you spoke to her this morning?” Mills asked.

“I don’t know if they did. But I haven’t talked to Angela in days. She told me he tried to reach her a few times. That was years ago. She also told me that she tried to discourage him from doing that. I’m not sure if she ever spoke to him again. I just know he liked her. She always tried to discourage him,” she reiterated. As she finished speaking, a phone rang in the background.

Xavier turned in the direction of the ringing phone and spoke up quickly. “It’s Angela’s cell.”

Nick had already left in a foul mood after hearing what Carolyn had to say.

“Okay, Xavier. This may be the call. Put the phone on speaker, and put your headset on. I’m going to prompt you,” Mills said.

Xavier picked up the phone with a confused expression. He examined the cell before putting it on speaker. He answered confidently. “Xavier Wentworth.” The line remained silent. “This is Xavier Wentworth. Who is this please? What can I help you with?” The caller hung up. “Damn it!” Xavier shouted uncharacteristically. “And this isn’t Angela’s cell, but it’s the one she was talking on this morning; I’m positive. Is there any way we can get information from this phone? It looks like it’s a cheap disposable.”

Mills let out a disappointed grumble. “It’d be difficult if the cell’s disposable, and the call was short. Okay, I think we’ve done all we can do tonight. Mrs. Ericson, thanks for your time,” Mills said. “Call if you remember anything. We’ll get back to you with any questions.” Mrs. Ericson hung up, and Mills spoke to Xavier. “Xavier, I’d liked to go to the hospital with you tomorrow. Maybe we can get some information from your wife. I’m aware she can’t talk, but she may be able to give us answers to yes or no questions. Or by some miracle, explain to us why she needed a second cell phone. Since Jackson is familiar with the case, he’s already been reinstated. He’ll be working with Olivia, and I’ll be overseeing. Jackson, you continue with what you’ve planned,” Mills said and cut the line.

Xavier disconnected the call and stood with his hand on the phone, looking disappointed.

Chapter 17

Kinsley was alone in the cabin for the first time. Wayde had gone out to make a call for the ransom. He locked her inside and left Remy to stand guard on the porch. She wasn’t sure why, but was grateful she wasn’t going to have to be alone with him. She scrambled, searching for anything to help her escape. There was nothing sharp, nothing deadly. She checked the bedrooms, bathroom, and living and kitchen areas. Nothing. Then, she saw the coffee pot on the counter. So simple, but it had escaped her. Until now. She grabbed the coffee, placed a filter into the basket, and dropped three scoops into it. Without regret, she reached into the front of her shorts and removed the pills with trembling hands. In haste, she opened the bottle and spread them across the top of the grounds. Then she put two more scoops in to cover them. While unlikely to kill them, the effects of the brew would give her time to get away. But if it did kill them, so be it. She wasn’t going to sit and do nothing. She heard the car pull up and Wayde come onto the porch. He and Remy started talking. After about five minutes, their voices escalated. The conversation sounded heated. Their voices died down, but she still heard them talking. When the screen door squeaked, she scurried to the couch and slunk down into the ratty cushions.

Wayde entered first. Like a wild man, he dashed toward her, his rank hostility permeating the room. Apparently, the call for the ransom hadn’t gone well. He jerked her by the arm, hauling her from the sofa onto the floor. Before she realized what happened, he bent over and yanked her by her ponytail. Using the ponytail like a rope, he swung her around several times. Her hands clawed his, and her screams mingled with his ranting as she struggled trying to separate herself from him.

“You’re getting to be more trouble than you’re worth. You bitch!” He kicked her feet. “Get up, make yourself useful, and get me a beer.”

She scrambled to her feet and grabbed him a beer from the ice chest. Wayde picked up the chair that had fallen over in the uproar and sat down at the table, focusing on some invisible target. Remy swiped his glass from the table, poured himself a whiskey, and then stood perched against the door eerily silent. He had never been so subdued. She handed Wayde his beer, even popped the tab for him, as she slid into her chair at the table.

“That woman is going to get you killed,” Wayde said with vacant affect.

She studied his face for a hint of frivolousness in h
is tone, but didn’t detect it. With Remy uncharacteristically quiet, she was inclined to believe Wayde’s remark. “What woman? What are you talking about?”

Wayde smiled disturbingly. “You still don’t get it, do you?” He shook his head with a grunt and lit a cigarette. Do you honestly think we met by chance?”

Her brow creased. “I’ve never thought otherwise.”

“Angela’s our cupid. She wanted you out of the way. Something about you really eats at her. She spotted your weaknesses, and I fine-tuned them. Fooling you was easy, easier than I thought it’d be.”

“Angela?” Her heart beat in her throat. Theories rattled through her brain, and her open mouth hung in disbelief. What had Angela found out? And who else knew? She must’ve had a reason to go to such extremes. But even if Angela had reason, Kinsley found believing she would put her and Max in danger next to impossible. She’d never known Angela to do more than spread a nasty rumor or spill a strategically placed glass of red wine on a drooling bimbo when she wanted revenge. Wayde was right. It had been easy to dupe her.

“Don’t look so stunned, you would’ve figured out what was going on if you had wanted to.”

“Where is Max, and when do we go home?” It didn’t matter anymore why she was with Wayde or who instigated their meeting. Remy laughed, hauntingly. She saw triumph in his eyes. Fear raked through her.

~ ~ ~

Slack eyed and devoid of sleep, Xavier entered the kitchen of his home.  Jonathan was already sitting at the table, amidst the aroma of fresh coffee and the comforting sound of the clock ticking away the time.  A silent expression of unequivocal understanding passed between them.

“I'm going to visit Angela today, with Mills.” Xavier said. “I can hardly see the point though. Seems unlikely she’d tell us anything even if she had the ability to talk after the stroke. When Jackson mentioned Wayde enlisted thirty-two years ago in south Carolina, it hit me that Angela might have known him and may have wanted Kinsley gone. I didn’t say anything last night, I wanted to check the video surveillance of my study first. I checked and it’s clear Wayde meeting Kinsley
wasn’t coincidental. Angela had gone snooping and found her reasons for setting Kinsley up.”

“That’s an understatement,” Jonathan said.

Xavier’s eyes flashed upward briefly, acknowledging Jonathan’s conclusion. “She must’ve laid the groundwork for the manipulation of Kinsley and Nick’s marriage and fed Wayde the stories Kinsley shared about Drew over the years. It appears Wayde was more than willing to comply, for a price, and fabricated his relationship with Drew. Why didn’t I see it? My God, we both know why Angela did it—to hurt Kinsley, punish her for the things she’d found out. But why the kidnapping? That’s what isn’t clear to me.”

“People are capable of all sorts of things, Xavier. We don’t always understand the reasons people turn to desperate measures. I do know you can’t blame yourself for what Angela’s done. No good will come of it.” Jonathan stared down into his coffee, stroking the rim of the cup repeatedly with his thumb. “What’s important now is to get Kinsley home safely.”

“Yes, you’re right, when she’s home everyone will be relieved. Maybe things can finally be set straight in this family.”

Xavier placed his hands on the table’s edge and leaned back. “Well, where’s Nick, maybe I should start with him?”

Jonathan gave him an empathetic look. “He’s passed out on the sofa in your study.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He was half tanked when I went to bed. I’ll talk to him. The last thing Kinsley needs is for him to slip back into the drunken stupor he was in when she left.”

~ ~ ~

Across the street from the café, Jackson paced the sidewalk. The night had come with a barrage of theories on Kinsley’s disappearance, most of them ill fated, and he’d spent the majority of his sleepless night chasing bogus information. After speaking with Xavier and Olivia earlier, the situation appeared bleak. Wayde hadn’t made a second call yet, and the vehicle they had left in hadn’t been spotted. When Jackson saw a man holding keys and heading for the door of the café, he exited the truck quickly and made his way into the building directly behind him.

The man turned and faced him. “Sorry sir, we don’t open for another half hour,” the man said as he smiled and held the door ajar for Jackson to exit. “You understand.”

Jackson stayed put. “I’m not here as a customer. I need to talk to you about one of your regulars. Are you Jim?”

Jim narrowed his eyes, nodded, and took off his baseball cap, twirling it in his hands as he waited for Jackson to continue.

“The women’s name is Kinsley. She’s somewhere around twenty-eight, dark hair, pretty. Comes in here in the afternoon about five times a week.” He pointed toward a table. “She sits over by that window, every visit.”

Jim rocked his head back and forth and gave an apologetic look. “I try to stay out of my customers’ business. Orangevale’s a small town. You understand.”

“I do understand.” Jackson pulled out his badge. “I’m working on a possible kidnapping. The woman’s life might be in danger. If you know anything about her or her alleged kidnappers, Wayde Mather and Remy Davis, we could use your assistance. No, let me rephrase that. If you can’t help us, we’re at a standstill.” In uniform, he would have never admitted the lack of direction. But this was personal.

Jim held his hand out toward the chair and motioned for Jackson to sit. His mouth hung open to speak, but he just shook his head. “Kidnapping? She was a nice woman.”

A pang of dread crept through him when Jim spoke about Kinsley in the past tense. “Was? Do you know something?” His own voice sounded shaky and weak.

Jim leaned his arm onto the table and buried his forehead in his hand. “No, no, I don’t, but I should’ve known something was wrong. Wayde, he seems like trouble. I’ve always tried to appease him.” He finally looked up. “And Remy, well, he’s been a bully since we were kids. I don’t like to admit this, but he’s my cousin.”

“Can you tell me anything about either of them that might be related to Kinsley? Do they have any ties to other states or towns, places they might take her?”

Jim waggled his finger, beginning to smile. He had a light in his eye now as if something big had just crossed his mind. “You know what? I just might know where they could be.”

Finally, having a lead, Jackson lifted himself off the chair and circled around, moving closer to Jim. “Where, where is it?”

“My uncle kept a cabin for hunting, fishing, and stuff about four hours north of here in Shallow Water. I ain’t heard of anyone using the place in a while, but we went up north a lot when we were kids.” Jim tipped his head toward him and beamed like he’d just answered the million dollar question.

“Can you tell me how to find the place?”

Jim’s beaming smile changed to a more apprehensive expression, and he scratched his head. The more he scratched, the more his face scrunched and wrinkled.

Jackson tensed. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, that might be difficult. After you get off the interstate, the roads aren’t marked good. I’m not sure I’d even remember their names. I can take you, though.”

Olivia would truss his balls for letting a civilian get involved. Giving information was one thing, riding along another. He rolled his head toward the door anyway. “Let’s go.”

Jim hung the ‘Closed’ sign and locked the door.

~ ~ ~

Wayde appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Other than his shallow breaths, Kinsley could almost imagine him dead. She lay on the bed pretending to sleep until he awoke and left the room. She was determined to follow through with her plot to drug them, and hungry to watch the light in their eyes die away when they realized their inept plan had gone awry. She smiled blithely within and gave them some time to drink the tainted coffee and bask in their presumed achievement. After a few minutes, she hurried out of bed and from the room. Before the door closed behind her, Wayde started in with his taunting.