Too Far Gone Page 25

  “I can’t believe you just did that,” Solomon snarled, dragging her to their vehicle.

  “Trust me,” Lia retorted. “That woman had her own suspicions. She just needed a little proof, that’s all.”

  As he yanked open the driver’s door for her, he crushed the FBI printout in his free hand. “She served the Dulay family for over thirty years, remember?” he reminded her, his silvery eyes as cold as ice. “What makes you think she’ll be disloyal now?”

  Ellie’s stomach churned with helpless agitation.

  Time had crept by in painful increments. Growing hot, she’d cracked her door open. Next she’d unfastened the two top buttons on the turquoise blouse, loath to leave perspiration stains on an item that had to be dry-clean only. More than thirty minutes had elapsed, and still Sean hadn’t called her as he’d promised. Only one car had passed her on the street, not even slowing down.

  At last the phone in her hand gave a ring. Ellie snatched it open, praying the unfamiliar number belonged to Sean. “Hello?”

  “Sweetheart. How’s it going?”

  Just the sound of his voice improved her mood drastically. “Nothing’s happening,” she admitted, letting her frustration show. “Only one car has driven by. What about you?”

  “Well . . .” He hesitated, which wasn’t encouraging. “The wall that wraps around the back is scalable, but I don’t know how we’d get the boys out of the building, especially if they’re up on the third floor.”

  Ellie’s hopes for an imminent reunion took a nosedive. “So you’re not going in tonight?” she concluded sadly.

  “I wouldn’t rule it out. We need to talk to Senior Chief. Have they left the building yet?”

  “No, not yet. Oh, wait a minute. Here they come now.”

  Ophelia’s rental flew toward the parked car, braking abruptly in the street. Wondering at the reason for her haste, Ellie jammed her feet back into her heels. As Solomon stepped out, his grim expression made Ellie’s stomach knot. “Solomon looks mad,” she relayed to Sean. Ophelia remained in her car, clutching the steering wheel firmly, an obstinate lift to her chin.

  “We’ll join up in just a minute,” Sean promised, ending the call.

  Shutting Vinny’s phone, Ellie went to open the car door, but Solomon waved her back inside. He surprised her by joining her in the rear seat, stuffing his sturdy frame into the enclosure and heaving a sigh.

  “What is it?” Ellie demanded, fearing the worst. “What did you see?”

  For a moment, he just looked at her, his light-colored eyes reflecting mixed compassion and concern. “I saw Caleb,” he said simply.

  A gasp of wonder swelled Ellie’s chest, then dissolved immediately into sobs of relief. She hid her face in her hands, fighting to get a grip on herself as Solomon looped an arm around her and pulled her ear to his chest.

  “He’s safe,” he crooned. “He hasn’t been harmed.”

  Ellie sensed a qualifier coming. “But you’re still concerned about him,” she guessed, searching his face through her teary vision.

  “He’s angry,” Solomon conceded. “According to the matron who runs the place, they’ve had difficulty breaking his spirit.”

  “Oh, no,” Ellie breathed, realizing that Caleb had been punished, probably severely.

  “He’s tough,” Solomon reassured her. “He’ll adjust fine when you get him back.”

  “What about Christopher?” she asked, now worried for her other boys. “And Colton?”

  “I didn’t see them,” Solomon admitted. “We heard a baby crying when we first stepped in. And Ophelia filmed a classroom of older children. We may yet see Chris when we replay the film.”

  “Okay,” Ellie replied, clinging to the hope that they, too, were in the building. She was about to ask if they were going to sneak in that night when Sean and Vinny stepped from the woods. Vinny took one look at Ophelia’s tense expression at the wheel of the second car and changed direction to join her.

  Sean glanced curiously at Solomon in the backseat. He noted Ellie’s tears. “What happened?” he asked, slipping into the driver’s seat.

  “They saw Caleb,” Ellie relayed, tears flowing again as she envisioned him angry and defiant.

  “Let’s go back to the inn and talk,” Solomon suggested, and Sean started up the car, waving at Ophelia to precede them.

  As Sean executed a U-turn in her wake, Solomon announced softly, “Vinny’s fiancée might have blown it for us.”

  Sean looked back at them through the rearview mirror. “How?”

  “She told the woman who runs the place that the Stuart boys had been kidnapped. She tried to leave her a printout from the FBI’s Web site,” he added with heavy mockery.

  “Well, shit!” exclaimed Sean. “What’s to keep that woman from calling Dulay?”

  The fear that her boys would disappear again strangled Ellie’s windpipe.

  “Our ace reporter seems to think the woman’ll do the right thing,” Solomon bit out, understandably irate.

  “Damn,” Sean swore, glowering at the Chevy Caprice ahead of him. Following his gaze, Ellie could see Ophelia gesturing elaborately as she drove. Vinny gestured back.

  “Looks like World War Three up there,” Sean commented.

  Solomon just shook his head.

  Ellie found her voice. “What if Dulay moves them?” she asked fearfully.

  “We’re not going to let that happen,” Solomon reassured her. “As soon as we have a plan, we’ll go back and set a watch. No one’s going to come or go without us knowing.”

  Clenching her hands tightly in her lap, Ellie tried to believe him. She would die if they came this far, endured this much, only to let her boys slip through their grasp in the final hours.

  Arriving at the inn in the wake of the other couple, Ellie, Sean, and Solomon walked into a room crackling with tension. Ophelia stood stone-faced over Reggie, who kneeled by the desk to sync the camera in her brooch with her laptop’s hard drive.

  Vinny glowered out of the second-story window, which overlooked the old city exchange bell, his hands fisted at his sides. At their entrance, he sent them an apologetic grimace and said, “I’m sorry. Like I told you before, she’s like a dog with a bone, and she refuses to give it up.”

  Ophelia glanced up with her eyes flashing. “Are you calling me a bitch?” she demanded.

  “That is a word for a female dog,” Vinny mumbled sullenly.

  “Children,” Solomon cut in with forceful disapproval. “This is not the time or the place for dissension. From now on, we work together,” he added, slicing Ophelia a warning glare, “and the mission won’t be compromised. What have we got?” he added, addressing the technical expert.

  Reggie’s finger was poised in readiness over the keyboard. “You might want to move closer to see,” he suggested.

  “Let Ellie sit in front,” said Sean, waving the others back.

  Ellie sank onto the Victorian chintz rug directly in front of the monitor. The others perched on the end of the bed or hovered to one side. Six spectators trained their eyes on the video clip, which started with a knock on the door.

  A long wait was followed by a genteel but tentative greeting before the couple was invited inside. The camera panned down a dreary hallway, then up a daunting stairwell, and Ellie shuddered. Her boys would have nightmares for years to come.

  Yet, listening to the matron’s voice as she led the twosome to the second level, it was clear she believed in the home’s mission of improving the outlook of young boys’ futures.

  As she announced their arrival at an upper-elementary classroom, the camera lens gave a jerk, and suddenly Ellie could see a dozen or more heads bent over desks. Desperately, she searched the closely cropped heads for a familiar face. “Can you stop the film?” she asked.

  Reggie hit pause, freezing the action; however, viewed from behind and wearing identical clothing, the boys all looked the same. Tears of frustration stung Ellie’s eyes. “I can’t see Chris,” she admitted.


  Reggie tapped a key and the video continued. The matron introduced Ophelia and Solomon to a room of younger boys. The camera leapt again, then centered on a boy sitting on a stool in the corner. Ellie gave a cry as she recognized Caleb in his signature stance of mutiny. The sight was so heartbreakingly familiar that tears flooded her eyes.

  The air shifted, and in the next instant, Sean was kneeling behind her, putting his arms around her. “We’ll get them back, Ellie. It won’t be long,” he promised.

  “Why can’t we get them now?” she demanded, tipping her head back to send him a pleading look. “It’s not right for them to have to stay there. Look what they’re doing to him!”

  “Sweetheart, we can’t just blaze inside like a SWAT team could and pull them out. We don’t have the legal right.”

  “Of course, if we’re not seen . . .” Solomon insinuated.

  “Then go in tonight,” she proposed, cutting her anxious gaze to the other two SEALs. “Please, get them out of there!”

  The three men shared a long, thoughtful look.

  “To scale that building, we’d need climbing gear—ropes, pulleys, and clips,” Sean reflected. “And even then we’d have trouble lowering the children from the third story, where that woman just said they sleep,” he added, nodding at the video, “down to the wall, then twelve more feet to the ground.”

  “We’re better off inserting through the front door,” Solomon added, tossing out a new idea. “We could cut their phone lines, disable their alarm, and try sneaking in once we’re confident that everyone’s asleep.”

  They shared uncomfortable glances.

  “Why can’t you do that?” Ellie asked.

  “We probably could,” Sean answered cautiously. “Normally, we study the environment first so we know what kinds of patterns to expect. We won’t know if someone stays up all night keeping watch. If some kid gets up at night to use the bathroom. Whatever.”

  “It’s risky,” Vinny agreed.

  “Chances are high that we’ll be seen. A million things could go wrong. Colton could start crying when we go to take him out of bed,” Sean added with a shrug.

  “And we can’t use weapons or tear gas,” Solomon decreed, “not with children in the area. If we’re compromised by adults, we’ll just have to dissuade them in other ways.”

  “I say we do it. Tonight,” Sean added.

  “I agree,” said Vinny. “The sooner the better.”

  Solomon glanced at his watch. “Seven hours till nightfall. Until then, I want us posting watch at the home in case Dulay gets suspicious”—he flicked an irritated glance at Ophelia—“and decides to relocate them. Vinny and I will cover the watch,” he said to Sean. “You stay with the women here so that someone doesn’t recognize you.”

  “Hooyah,” said Sean with a crooked smile.

  “Ma’am,” Solomon added, directing an icy glare at Ophelia, “this story doesn’t go to press until the children have been recovered.”

  “Of course not,” she retorted, meeting his stare without flinching.

  Vinny swung an uneasy look between them.

  Solomon nodded. “Let’s dress and move out,” he said to Vinny. The men had secured a room of their own on the third floor. “Sean, have one of the women drop you off at the home at o’dark hundred. I’ll leave some clothes for you to wear,” he added, throwing a final mocking look at Sean’s flowered shirt.

  “Roger, Senior,” Sean called, warming Ellie with a look that promised intimacy just as soon as he could get her alone.

  Spying his big brother in his customary spot on the hot, packed-dirt playground, Caleb sprinted toward him, his heart so filled with excitement it felt like it would explode. “Chris!” he shouted, wresting his brother’s gaze from the dirt on his shoes. All Chris ever did was sit on that swing and stare.

  “Chris!” he repeated, coming to a gasping halt in front of him.

  Chris looked up with empty eyes. “What?”

  Making sure no kids were close enough to overhear, Caleb whispered, “I saw Solomon!”

  Chris’s expression didn’t change. “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did!” Caleb retorted, flushing with anger. “I saw him out in the hallway while I was sittin’ in the classroom. He was with a woman.”

  “Jordan?”

  “No, some other lady with curly hair.”

  “Then it wasn’t Solomon,” Christopher reasoned. “He’d never leave Jordan to find us here.”

  In his fury, Caleb punched his brother right in the jaw. “I’m tellin’ you, I saw him!” he roared.

  “Boys!” cried Mr. Spellman, Chris’s teacher, who stood watch over their recess.

  Caleb was immediately sorry, not just because Mr. Spellman was striding over to speak to them but also because Chris looked at him the same way Mama used to look at him, with disappointment in his gray eyes. “Sorry,” he muttered, scuffing his heels and hanging his head.

  “What is going on here?” demanded the teacher.

  “Nothing, sir,” said Christopher, slipping respectfully off the swing. “He just apologized.”

  The teacher swung a suspicious gaze between the two. “Both of you go play, and no more hitting.”

  Christopher grabbed Caleb’s hand and pulled him to the far side of a large metal jungle gym. “You’re gonna get in trouble again,” he warned his brother with real concern. “Stop making up stuff.”

  “I’m not! And I’m not gonna get in trouble, either, ’cause I won’t be here after today.”

  Chris closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. “What are you planning?” he asked tiredly.

  Caleb glanced at the two little boys scrambling over the jungle gym. He stood on tiptoe and whispered in Chris’s ear, “I’m gonna start a fire.”

  “How?”

  “With your magnifier,” Caleb answered, patting his right pocket. “I already got a pile of kindling,” he added, gesturing to the corner of the yard, where he’d stacked leaves and twigs, small bits of tinder that had blown over the wall. “Once the fire gets goin’, all the teachers will be over here tryin’ to put it out, and I’ll run for the cafeteria door. They unlock it every day at lunch for the delivery truck.” He peered up at Chris, desperately seeking his approval. “And when I get out,” he continued, “I’m gonna find Solomon, and we’ll come back for you ’n’ Colty.”

  Chris just looked away. “It won’t work,” he said, crushing Caleb’s confidence.

  “It will!” Caleb shouted, tempted to shove him. “Just watch!” he challenged, sprinting to the pile of kindling he’d collected. Dropping to his knees in the sparse grass, he whipped out the magnifying glass, angled it to catch the sun’s full radiance, and waited.

  It was good and hot today. Perspiration trickled from his hairline as he held the lens in place. Glancing over his shoulder, he realized Christopher had walked away.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I will make a fire,” Caleb muttered, redoubling his determination. His hand shook with the effort it took to hold the lens still, yet in the next instant, he was rewarded. A line of pungent smoke rose straight up. Quivering with excitement, Caleb blew a gentle breath across the incinerating leaf. A flame leapt up. Yes! And then another.

  He sat back, watching in amazement as the fire slowly spread. Flames danced from leaf to leaf. The little fire grew taller and hotter.

  With a grim smile of triumph, he shot to his feet and ran from the fire to avoid being blamed for it. He trotted up to Mr. Spellman and said, “Can I go in and use the bathroom?”

  “You can wait. Recess is almost over.”

  “Okay.” He went and hovered by the door, jiggling up and down, looking like he had his mind on just one thing—peeing. Seeing Christopher again on the swing, he stuck his tongue out at him and then grinned. Chris glanced toward the back of the yard, caught sight of the fire, and jumped from the swing. “Mr. Spellman, it’s a fire!” he shouted.

  Caleb knew that was his cue. As Mr. Spellman rushed tow
ard the little inferno, Caleb darted through the cracked door. He could hear shouts and exclamations behind him. Mr. Spellman was calling for a bucket of water.

  Caleb ran straight into Mrs. Banks, who’d run from the kitchen to the cafeteria at the sound of alarm. “It’s a fire,” he exclaimed. “Mr. Spellman wants water in a bucket!”

  “Oh, dear,” she cried, disappearing right back into the kitchen to fetch the requested item.

  Caleb shot toward the door on the far side of the yellow-tiled cafeteria. Sure enough, the lock on the chain hung open, just waiting for the food deliveryman.

  As he sprinted toward freedom, his heart pounded in his chest and blood thrummed in his ears. He hit the door at full speed. It flew open, startling the black man about to open it from the outside.

  “Whoa, there!” he exclaimed as Caleb crashed into him and whirled away, only to trip on the corner of a box-laden dolly. “Hold on!” exclaimed the man, catching Caleb by his collar. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Let go of me!” Caleb bellowed, fighting the man’s grip with every ounce of his strength. He kicked and hit and flailed to no avail. The deliveryman was way bigger and stronger. He just swung Caleb under one of his burly arms, left his dolly right there on the walkway, and marched the boy who was bawling with frustration back into the building.

  With a deep sigh, Ellie nestled more comfortably against Sean’s chest. They’d stolen up to the bedroom Solomon and Vinny had changed in. The sheets of the antique four-poster bed now lay twisted around them, damp and smelling of sex. In a short while, Ellie would have to call housekeeping for a fresh set, but for now, she and Sean were free until dark. The mellow strip of sunlight that fell across the floor let them know their time was dwindling.

  Sean mocked himself. “Forty-eight hours away from you and I couldn’t wait to rip your clothes off.”

  Is it all about sex for him? Ellie wondered, masking a little pinch of hurt as she gazed across his chest at a silk lampshade.

  Shifting his weight suddenly, he flipped her onto her back and gazed down at her. “No comment?” he queried.

  “You haven’t told me your story yet,” she pointed out, anxious to hear where he’d been and what was weighing so heavily on his mind, robbing him of his ready smile.