The Buried, page 16
“So he doesn’t have her . . .” the sheriff’s voice trailed off, as if he was talking to someone else.
Hadn’t he heard her about the shooting?
“Have who?” Mae asked. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”
“Bode’s with you right now? Do you have the phone on speaker?” Deacon fired the questions at her.
“Yes. Why?” And now she could hear the crying again, but it wasn’t coming from the tunnels. It was coming from the speaker on her cell. Someone with the sheriff was crying. “What the hell is going on?”
Bode tensed, as if he recognized that crying, but it was too loud and strong to belong to his baby. All the color drained from his face, which was usually chafed from the wind, from his running outside. “What is it, Deacon?” he asked.
Mae jumped up from the desk, then, and rushed around it to stand next to Bode, to slide an arm around his waist in support.
“What is it?” Bode repeated.
“Your daughter . . .”
Bode’s big body began to tremble against Mae’s. “What? What’s happened?”
“She’s missing, Bode.”
He shook his head. “No, Genevieve brought her to the boardinghouse. You’re supposed to be there, with them. Right?”
“I am here,” Deacon said.
“Genevieve said she made it safely to the house,” Bode said. “She sent me a text a while ago.”
“She made it safely here with the baby,” Deacon confirmed. “But we can’t find Adelaide now. She disappeared from here.”
Bode sagged against Mae and probably would have dropped to the floor if Mae didn’t have her arm wrapped around his waist. Like she would have dropped to the ground if he hadn’t caught her on the ladder earlier.
“Get the bridge shut down!” she shouted at Deacon. “Use my name to get it done now!”
“It’s already been done, because of the blizzard,” Deacon replied. “It was shut down before Genevieve even made it back here.”
“How long has the baby been missing?” Mae asked, her pulse racing with fear for the child, and for Bode.
“Genevieve set up her portable crib in the parlor, and Adelaide was sleeping in it in front of the fire while we all went into the dining room,” he said, his voice gruff now with regret, as if he was blaming himself. “When Genevieve went to check on her, she was gone.”
A curse slipped through Bode’s lips, and he was shaking his head, as if refusing to accept it.
“She’s not the only one who’s missing,” Deacon admitted.
“Who?” Mae asked. “Who else is missing?”
“Evelyn’s new boarder,” Deacon replied. “Rick Smallegan.”
Mae cursed now. “Son of a bitch . . .”
This was her fault. All her fault . . .
* * *
“What the hell’s going on?” Fury coursed through Elijah. “Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” He ran alongside Bruce, who’d just knocked on the door of his suite a short while ago. He’d dragged himself from his warm bed and the arms of his hot girlfriend to answer that door.
And now he was still trying to grasp everything the head of security had told him. “Someone tried to kill Sergeant Montgomery in the conservatory?” he asked, wondering if he’d heard the other man correctly.
They were heading in the other direction now, though. Because of what Bruce had just told him . . .
“And you said there were gunshots heard near the sauna . . .”
Bruce nodded. “Yes, sir. I knew you’d want to know . . .”
“I want to know about everything that happens around here—”
“Sergeant Montgomery said not to tell anyone yet—”
“My brother and I—”
“Your brother was with her,” Bruce interjected. “He was the one who saved her in the conservatory.”
Just to get shot at in the tunnels? Those shots had to have been fired at them. Or had they fired them? Bode didn’t even like guns, so it wouldn’t have been him.
Maybe Mae Montgomery had shot his brother. She sure hated him. But as he rounded the hall that wound around the gym to the back hallway, she opened the door to Bode’s office, and she had one arm wrapped around him.
“Oh my God!” He rushed forward, fear coursing through him at the look on Bode’s face. He was so damn pale, like he had been when Elijah had found him lying in the snow next to the lighthouse, bleeding and in shock.
“What happened? Was he shot?” he asked Sergeant Montgomery, because he was certain Bode couldn’t hear him. He probably didn’t even see him right now.
“Adelaide . . .” she whispered.
And pain squeezed Elijah’s heart. “God, no! What happened?”
Bruce had told him about the conservatory and the tunnels, like they were playing some sick game of Clue in the hall. But the man hadn’t mentioned the cottage or the child.
Panic gripped his heart so tightly he couldn’t breathe for a moment. Elijah had spent the first few weeks of his niece’s life ignoring her, and not just because he’d disapproved of his brother having a relationship with an employee. That had been wrong.
Just like bringing another Bainesworth into the world had felt wrong, but that wasn’t even Elijah’s real reason for keeping his distance. He just wasn’t good around babies. He had no experience with them, and no desire to get any. Until he’d thought he’d lost Bode . . .
He’d found him in the snow that time, too. Knocked out from a blow with a shovel, he could have died. And then Adelaide would have had no one. But him . . .
So Elijah had stepped up; he’d made an effort with the baby, and he’d fallen for her. So damn hard . . .
Just like he had Edie Stone.
“She’s missing,” Sergeant Montgomery said, again in a whisper, as if she didn’t want Bode to hear, but it was clear he knew.
And that was why he looked like he was dying.
If anything had happened to his daughter, Elijah was certain he would lose his brother, too.
Chapter Seventeen
The buzzing in his head got louder and louder until Bode felt as if his head was going to explode. Or maybe his heart would, his madly pounding heart. He couldn’t process it.
Couldn’t understand it . . .
How could a child go missing in a house full of people?
Rick Smallegan. Was he so convinced Bode had taken his daughter, Heather, that he took Bode’s daughter for revenge? It would have been better if Smallegan had gotten into the hall, if he’d just shot Bode dead instead of this....
Bode drew in a breath, finally, and snapped himself out of the shock. Out of the horror. He pulled away from Mae and shoved past Elijah, who reached out for him.
Then he was running, through the gym and then the lobby toward the hall that led to the employee parking lot. To the vehicles . . .
He’d let Genevieve take his to the boardinghouse. But there would be another one he could use. He couldn’t take the time to find the keys now, though, as he pulled open the door to a blast of cold and snow. It hit him hard, sending him back as the door struck him, too.
Arms caught him, like Mae had earlier. She was on one side of him, Elijah on the other. He tried to pull away from them. “I have to go! Adelaide needs me!”
“You need your coat. And a vehicle,” Mae said.
“It’s a blizzard,” Elijah said, and he slammed the door shut again. “It’s not safe for you to go out there.”
“Not for Adelaide . . .” he murmured, his heart aching with love and fear for his baby girl. “It’s not safe for her . . .”
Not if Rick Smallegan had her. And who else could have taken her but that man?
And if he had . . .
What would he do with her?
He yanked away from Mae and reached around his brother for the door handle. He would go through Elijah if he had to; he would do anything to get to his daughter. “I have to find her!”
“Deacon’s looking,” Mae said. “He’ll find her.”
“He’s already looked,” Bode pointed out.
“What happened? I don’t understand . . .” Elijah murmured, his brow furrowed with confusion.
“I let Genevieve take her to the boardinghouse,” Bode explained. “I thought she would be safer there than with me.”
Elijah nodded. “That makes sense.”
Bode shook his head. None of it made sense. Not to him . . .
Who would take an innocent baby? Who would use her for revenge? What kind of monster would do that?
A sob burned his throat and slipped out of his lips.
And Mae was there, winding her arms around him, holding him close. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry . . .”
Something about her tone had him tensing and staring down at her face. Tears slipped out of her eyes, too.
And he realized she was doing more than commiserating with him. She felt responsible for his daughter’s disappearance. He tensed and pulled back, and now he stared at her as she had so many times at him. With suspicion.
“Why?” he asked, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. His pulse pounding with panic, emotion choking him, he cleared his throat and asked again, “Why?”
Because he had to know . . . no matter how terrible it might be.
“Why are you sorry, Mae? What do you know about my daughter disappearing?”
* * *
He had a right to know. But Mae hadn’t answered him yet. Before she could, Edie and Bruce rushed up to join them. Edie, ever the reporter, fired questions at them, trying to figure out what was going on. Not out of curiosity but concern. She had her arms around Elijah, holding him close, and he wrapped his arms around her, accepting her comfort and support.
Unlike Bode, who’d pulled away from her, who stared at her with such a chilling look on his handsome face. His silvery eyes had never been as cold as they were now as he studied her. Ignoring Edie and his brother, he was totally focused on her.
She shivered.
“Why, Mae?” he asked again. “Why are you so damn sorry? What do you know about what happened to Adelaide?”
A gasp slipped through her lips. God, she hoped nothing had happened to the child. That she was safe.
Unharmed.
And knowing what she knew . . .
What Bode deserved to know . . .
She cleared her throat. “Not about Adelaide. About Rick Smallegan . . .”
“Heather’s dad? The guy who tried getting over the wall earlier today?” Edie fired the questions. Obviously Elijah had filled her in on that. But even the reporter didn’t know what Mae did.
Neither did Bode.
“He’s not just Heather’s dad,” she said.
“No, he’s a fucking kidnapper!” Bode shouted.
“You think he took Adelaide?” Elijah asked, and his face was as pale as his brother’s was earlier. “Why?”
“Because of Heather . . .” Bode murmured, as if he wasn’t entirely certain, and he was staring at her again.
“Not just Heather,” Mae said. “He’s Erika’s dad, too.”
Bode shook his head. “No. Erika’s last name was Korlinsky. It was just her and her single mom. She had nobody else after her mom died.”
“Her mom refused to marry Rick. They were just teenagers. But he was always in Erika’s life.”
He shook his head. “No, she never mentioned him.”
There was a reason for that, but she wasn’t going to share that with him now. Not when he was already struggling to accept what she’d shared.
“But she and Heather didn’t know each other. . . .”
“Heather came here to find her older half sister when Erika stopped answering her texts. They didn’t have the same moms, but they grew up together. Rick was always in both girls’ lives. He loves them so much.” And his obvious fatherly devotion had caused her to share more than she should have with him. Like her suspicions . . .
This was all her fault.
“Oh, God . . .” Bode said, his voice barely above a horrified whisper. “That’s why he tried getting in here with a gun earlier today. . . .”
“To kill you?” Edie asked. “Does he blame you for his daughter’s murder like . . .” She glanced at Mae as she trailed off.
“I don’t blame him,” she said, shaking her head.
Edie snorted.
“Not anymore,” Mae insisted. But she hadn’t had a chance to share her recent revelation with Rick Smallegan. All she’d shared were those damn suspicions.
“Maybe he just wanted to take his granddaughter,” Bode said. “And he doesn’t intend to hurt her. He’s just determined to see her. Maybe that’s why he tried getting in here with the gun . . .”
“Or to kill you,” Mae admitted. “He does blame you for Erika’s murder, and he knows Heather never would have hurt her sister, that that confession was forged. He thinks you’re responsible for all of that.”
Elijah’s shoulders slumped. “I was hoping it was Heather, and that it was all over because she left the island. But then you showed up, and someone tried to kill you—”
“It could still be Heather,” Edie said. “I’ve covered stories before where siblings killed each other out of jealousy.”
Or died because of it some other way . . .
Was that really why Kimber Lee had been pursuing perfection? Because she’d thought Mae was perfect?
God, she was so damn far from it.
“And if she never left the island, like you think,” Edie continued. “Then she could be the one trying to kill you now.”
Mae’s blood chilled as she realized the reporter could be right. She only had Rick Smallegan’s word that the handwriting wasn’t his daughter’s. Would he be able to admit it if it was? Would he be able to accept that one of them had killed the other out of jealousy or something darker . . .
Bode shook his head. “No. Heather didn’t do . . .” He shook his head again. “None of this matters right now. I just have to find my daughter. Now.”
“I’ll help you,” Mae said. “I’ll help you look. Just put on a coat. And—”
“I don’t care about myself,” he said, and tears filled his eyes.
“Here,” Bruce said. “Take my coat and my SUV.” He must have ducked into his office because he handed over his keys and a parka.
“Deacon is already looking for her,” Elijah reminded him. “You said that . . .”
“I don’t care,” Bode said. “I have to look, too. I can’t sit around here and wait for . . .”
“I’ll go with you,” Elijah said, as if he’d realized what she had, that Bode wasn’t jumping at the offer of her help.
“I have a gun.” Not that she could use it with her bandaged hands. But she could take off the bandages. It wasn’t as if the wounds were even throbbing anymore. It was only her heart that was hurting. Because she knew that if anything happened to that innocent baby, Bode would never forgive her because of what she’d kept from him about Heather and Erika having the same father, who had even more of a reason to want to hurt Bode. Would he use his own granddaughter to do that?
If anything happened to that baby, Mae would never forgive herself.
* * *
The storm had been raging all day, but it had seemed to intensify this evening. The windows rattled in the carriage house as the wind howled around it, like those damn coyotes that lurked around the property, waiting . . . for another fresh kill.
Dr. James Bainesworth didn’t have to worry about them getting to him. Not when he rarely left the second floor, let alone the carriage house . . .
And yet he had an uneasy feeling tonight, one that had kept him awake despite the sleeping pills Theo had tried to slip him. A grin curled up his lips. That fool thought he could outsmart him?
Any of them thought they could?
A door creaked downstairs, followed by a roar of the wind. Someone had opened one of those big carriage doors to the living room that once was a garage stall. And, before that, a stall for the horses and a wagon. His great-grandfather was the first settler on this island. He’d made it habitable; he was the reason Bane Island was Bane Island.
And there would always be a Bainesworth on it.
The door closed, muffling the wind. He held his breath, listening. And then the creak on the stairs came as someone started up them, quietly, softly, as if to catch him unaware.
For a big man, Theo was capable of moving quietly. It was one of the things about him that amused James the most, like his thinking he was smarter than him.
Fool . . .
“Theo!” he called out. “I know what you did!” He routinely slipped something in his evening drink, probably so he could sneak out when James was sleeping.
The noise paused for a moment, before the footsteps resumed. Just as slow but not as soft.
“Theo?”
Usually the man would have answered him by now. Wasn’t it Theo coming up the stairs?
In bed, James felt more helpless than he did in his chair. He rolled to his side and peered at the doorway just as a shadow filled it, blocking out the light from the hall. “Who is it? Who’s there?”
“Don’t you recognize me?”
“No. Who are you?”
“Your worst nightmare . . .”
Chapter Eighteen
Bode ignored Elijah and Edie’s protests just like Mae ignored his as he pulled open the door to head out into the blizzard. The blast of wind and snow had him pulling on Bruce’s jacket. His hands already growing numb with the cold, he jerked up the zipper just as Mae drew hers to her chin. She wore a jacket, but it wasn’t as thick and warm as the coat Bruce lent him.
“You need to stay here!” he shouted at her over the wind. It wasn’t safe for anyone to be out in this. But he didn’t care about himself. He shouldn’t care about her either after learning she’d kept yet more information from him. Information he’d deserved to know.
But Erika and Heather had kept it from him, too.
Why?
Why had anyone thought he would care they were related? What the hell had they been doing here?
Bode suspected there was even more to the story than Mae had shared yet. But all he cared about was what affected his daughter and finding her.
