New Year Heroes: The Sheriff's Secretary / Veiled Intentions / Juror No. 7

“Nah, I was just sitting here watching the boob tube. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you could do me a favor. Would you run by my place and tell Marquette to give you my overnight bag and a couple of clean uniforms, then meet me at the station with them?” He looked at Mariah, who stood with her back to him as she stared out the window into the night. “I’m going to be here at Mariah’s until this is resolved.”

“Sure. When do you want to meet?”

“An hour.”

The last call was to Deputy Louis DuBois. “Where are you, Louis?” he asked when the man answered his cell phone.

There was a long pause. “I’m in my car between Magnolia and Main. Uh, I’m looking for Phil Ribideaux.”

“What do you mean you’re looking for him?” Lucas asked.

“Uh, I seem to have lost him.”

Lucas closed his eyes and squeezed the phone more tightly against his ear. “What do you mean you lost him?”

“I’m sorry, Lucas, but he got into that little sports car of his and he must have seen me behind him because he took off around a couple of corners and was gone.”

“How long has it been since you had him in visual contact?” Lucas asked.

“At least an hour,” Louis confessed. “I’m heading toward his house now to see if he’s returned there.”

“Keep me posted.” Lucas clicked off and muttered a curse.

Mariah turned to face him. “What’s happened?”

“I had Louis following Phil Ribideaux, and apparently in the past hour he lost him.”

She leaned against the wall and brushed a strand of her unruly curly hair away from her face. “An hour. That means it’s possible it was Phil Ribideaux who was in the cemetery.”

“It’s also possible it was a dozen other people,” Lucas replied. “In truth, I can’t imagine Phillip Ribideaux having the imagination or the balls to pull something like this off.” He pulled his keys from his pocket. “Look, I need to go down to the station. Will you be okay alone for a little while?”

Her gaze went to the telephone. “What if he calls again?”

“I don’t think he will, at least not again tonight. I think he’s had his fun for now.” He frowned. Funny … all the people who had shown up that morning had been well-meaning neighbors, but there had been no phone calls, no appearance of anyone who seemed to be Mariah’s close friend. “Is there somebody I can call to be here with you? Maybe a good friend?”

She shook her head. “Jenny was becoming a good friend, but other than her I have no close friends here,” she replied. “Between my job and Billy, there hasn’t been time for fostering any real friendships.” She rubbed her left wrist. “Besides, I’m a private person. Friends want to know where you come from and where you’re going. I didn’t want to talk about the first and I don’t have answers for the second.”

She turned back to face the window. “Go do whatever it is you need to do. I’ll be fine here.”

She might be fine, but he was an emotional wreck as he drove to his office. Despite the lateness of the hour, he’d called Wally and told him to gather the deputies for a briefing. He also wanted to coordinate with Agent Kessler.

As he drove, his head filled with thoughts of Jenny. He’d clung to the perverse hope that somehow she was behind her own disappearance, that she wasn’t in serious danger other than getting a butt-chewing from him when she finally showed up.

But as they’d walked the cemetery, he’d realized Mariah was right. Jenny might not mind making him worry himself sick, but she’d never do something like this to Mariah. She’d never keep Billy away from his mother.

However, it was possible that Jenny’s bad choices in friends and relationships had put her in this position. Remy Troulous was one of those bad choices. What the hell had she been doing with him? And where the hell was Remy Troulous now?

Lucas knew it was useless to search for the man. He was like a swamp rat, able to scurry through darkness and hide in any number of holes. He wouldn’t be found unless he wanted to be, and there was no way to know when he’d decide to make an appearance.

Did Remy have anything to do with this? Or was it possible Phil Ribideaux was behind it? And what about the mysterious Frank Landers? The questions served no purpose other than to give him a headache and intensify his weariness.

He was going to have to get some sleep. He was running on empty and there was no way he could be sharp and focused, either physically or mentally, without rest.

The sheriff’s office was in a building smack-dab in the middle of Main Street. He parked in the space allotted to him, then went inside where his deputies and the FBI agent awaited.

They all looked as tired as he felt. It didn’t take long for him to fill them in on what had happened at the cemetery, then listen to each of them report on what they’d been doing in the past few hours. None of them had anything substantial to report.

The Shreveport authorities had still been unable to locate Frank Landers, Remy Troulous was missing in action, as was Phil Ribideaux. Further interrogations of Mariah’s neighbors had yielded nothing, and by the time Lucas left the office with his overnight bag and clean clothes in hand, he carried with him an overwhelming sense of frustration.

The first forty-eight hours after a crime was committed were crucial, and Lucas was aware that they knew little more than they had in the first hours after Billy and Jenny had disappeared. He and his men were doing everything they could to find Jenny and Billy, but at the moment the kidnapper was definitely in charge.

Eventually he would make a mistake. Lucas had no doubt about that. The phone calls told Lucas that the kidnapper wanted to brag, needed to connect, and eventually he’d make a mistake. But until that happened Lucas could only react, and he hated not being in control.

He told his deputies that he would stay at Mariah’s house, since the kidnapper was calling on her home phone. He would be the only law enforcement agent there. For now, he was playing by the kidnapper’s rules. He and his deputies would stay in touch by phone and continue to meet at regular intervals at the office.

Although Conja Creek wasn’t a hotbed of criminal activity, they still had to contend with the usual crimes that occurred on a regular basis. He put Ed Maylor in charge of coordinating with the citizens who wanted to help find Jenny and Billy and put Wally in charge of the office while Lucas stayed at Mariah’s. Agent Kessler would coordinate with the state police and continue to work with the deputies to interview and assess the situation.

Kessler indicated that he was more than willing to call in several more agents, but Lucas feared the wrath of the kidnapper if too many law enforcement agents appeared in town. He and Kessler agreed that for the short term everything would remain status quo.

When he arrived back at Mariah’s, he walked through the front door and was met with silence. He dropped his bag and his clothes on the sofa, then went in search of Mariah.

He found her in Billy’s room, curled up in a fetal position on the bed. She clutched her son’s yellow-and-navy pajamas to her chest, and his heart clenched at the sight.

Her sleep was obviously deep, for she didn’t move as he approached her. She must have showered after he left, and changed her clothes, for she now wore a pair of jogging pants and a different T-shirt.

For a long moment he stood and watched her, his heart clenching once again as he saw the dark shadows beneath her long lashes, the faint crease that rode her brow, as if even sleep hadn’t offered her the escape she needed.

He wanted to curl up beside her in the bed, take her into his arms and hold her and fill his head with the sweet scent of her. The desire shocked him. With all that was going on, how was it possible that desire managed to rear its unwelcome head?

Maybe because it was a familiar, known emotion as opposed to the unfamiliar torment of fear that rocked through him as his heart cried his sister’s name. But, Mariah Harrington had touched him in places he hadn’t been touched in a very long time.

Her strength amazed him, her courage awed him and the secrets he sensed she had from her past intrigued him. She was like no other woman he had encountered in a very long time.

He spied a navy afghan folded over the chair at the desk and he grabbed it and gently laid it over her. The house was cool and he wanted to do something, anything that felt like taking care of her.

He was grateful that she was asleep, glad that he wouldn’t have to tell her the instructions he’d given his deputies. He left the bedroom and went into the kitchen, where he stood at the window and stared into the black of night.

This was the second night. Almost forty-eight hours had passed since Jenny and Billy had been taken. What were the odds that somebody had kidnapped them and was keeping them alive in a secret place here in Conja Creek? He figured slim to none.

That’s why he was glad Mariah was sleeping. So he wouldn’t have to tell her that he suspected they were now looking for Jenny’s and Billy’s bodies.

NIGHT HAD FALLEN AGAIN, and with it the terror of the darkness, the horror of the unknown. Jenny cradled Billy’s head in her lap, worried as she heard the sound of his labored breathing.

He was asleep, but it was a fitful rest, and she could only guess at the bad dreams a frightened eight-year-old little boy might suffer.

His breathing worried her. She knew how bad Billy’s asthma could get. Twice in the couple of months she’d lived with Mariah, he’d had to be rushed to the emergency room because his nebulizer hadn’t been able to give him the relief he’d needed.