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

Although it wasn’t critical yet, she feared what another day away from his mommy, away from his home might bring. As his stress and fear level rose, so did his breathing issues.

Dawn had brought a new level of understanding to Jenny and a heightened sense of simmering fear.

As light had crept in around the cracks in the boards of the structure where they were being held, she’d been able to see that it was a small room built with new, strong wood. The nails—thick, big spikes—were driven in deep and sound.

Besides the mattress on the floor, in one corner was a portable potty and in the other corner was a wooden shelf filled with nonperishable food. There were boxes of breakfast bars and crackers, beef jerky and canned goods with pop lids. Beneath the shelf were cases of bottled water.

It was the plethora of food that frightened her more than anything. Whoever had them had prepared for them to be here a long time. Why? What in God’s name could they want?

She racked her brain, trying to figure out who would want to kidnap them and why. But she had no answers. It might be about money. Certainly Lucas could afford to pay a huge ransom for their release. In fact, Jenny had her own trust fund that contained enough to make a kidnapper happy for the rest of his life.

When Billy had awakened, they’d both screamed for help, hoping somebody would hear and come to rescue them. But it was as if they were yelling at the bottom of the ocean. Nobody replied. Nobody came.

When they’d exhausted themselves screaming, she’d spent most of the rest of the day examining their surroundings, trying to find a weakness she could exploit to get them out of there. But there didn’t seem to be any way out.

She’d finally given up and had played games with Billy. They’d played I Spy and an alphabet game, then had played Rock, Paper, Scissors until she thought she’d go mad.

As dusk had approached and Billy’s anxiety began to increase, Jenny had tried to entertain him by talking about the animals who lived in the swamps. Billy loved to learn, and Jenny had once thought about being a teacher. But when she’d gone to college, she’d taken business instead of education classes, because Lucas had thought that would be a smarter choice.

Tears now filled her eyes as she thought of her older brother. He could be bossy and a know-it-all, but she adored him. He’d been her hero for most of her life, fixing messes she made and taking care of her.

Lately she’d been angry with him, wanting him to back off and let her live her own life. She wanted to make her own choices and figure things out on her own, but sometimes she felt so stupid.

She leaned her head back against the wooden wall and stroked her fingers through Billy’s hair. She’d always loved kids, and Billy had found a special place in her heart.

He coughed and she recognized the tight bark as his asthma cough. She closed her eyes, terror once again filling her.

Billy needed to get out of here before his breathing grew worse. But she couldn’t physically break through the wooden walls that kept them prisoner. She couldn’t even try to negotiate with their kidnapper because, since the moment they had awakened from whatever had knocked them out, they had been utterly alone.

She’d been on the verge of tears all day, but had refused to allow them to fall because she knew it would upset Billy. But now, in the darkness and with Billy asleep, tears trickled down her cheeks. She must have done something stupid, something to put herself at risk. She wasn’t sure what it had been, but somehow this had to be her fault.

She needed her brother to find them. She needed Lucas to be her hero one last time, then she swore to herself that she’d never do anything stupid again.

Chapter Six

Sleep fell away in increments. Mariah became aware of the faint sound of chirping birds drifting through the windowpane, and for just a moment a sense of well-being filled her.

Then she opened her eyes and realized she was in Billy’s bed, and reality slammed into her a like a sledgehammer crushing her heart.

Another dawn, and he was still not home. She squeezed her eyes shut as a rush of emotion filled her. She could only assume that nothing had happened while she slept, for if it had, Lucas would have awakened her.

How was she going to get through another day … another minute of the tormenting fear? How was she going to survive her next breath not knowing where her son was or if he were alive or—

She gasped, not wanting to even think that she might never see Billy’s smile again, would never hear that silly giggle of his.

Drawing a deep breath, she took in the scent of him that lingered in his room, the faint Billy fragrance that clung to his little pajamas. How long before that Billy smell went away? Would he be gone so long that there would be nothing left of him?

Needing to escape her own thoughts, she hurried into the bathroom where she washed her face, brushed her teeth and pulled her hair back with a ponytail holder at the nape of her neck.

She looked tired despite the sleep she’d gotten. Of course, much of her sleep had been haunted by dreams of Billy crying for her, needing her, and she’d been unable to go to him.

She was living every mother’s nightmare. She’d read the tragic news stories of missing children, had seen parents on the television years after the disappearance still seeking answers. She didn’t want to be one of those parents. She didn’t want to think that Billy might be a statistic.

Shoving away the horrible thoughts, she went in search of Lucas.

She found him stretched out on his back on her sofa. He was sound asleep. He wore a pair of worn jeans and a white T-shirt and she realized it was the first time she’d seen him out of his khaki uniform.

He looked good in jeans, and the T-shirt pulled across the width of his chest. She had always been attracted to Lucas. From the first time he’d strode into the office demanding to speak to the mayor, she’d felt a magnetic spark.

But he scared her more than a little bit. He reminded her of the husband she’d fled. She’d already made one major mistake in her life, and she had the feeling that following through on her attraction to Lucas Jamison would simply be another monumental mistake.

He must have been exhausted, for the lamp on the end table closest to his head burned bright but didn’t seem to bother him.

She moved into the kitchen and quietly began to make a pot of coffee. That was all she seemed to be good for. She couldn’t find her son. She couldn’t figure out who might have taken him. She didn’t like feeling so useless, so utterly powerless. She’d had years of feeling that way with Frank and had sworn she’d never allow herself to feel that way again.

Only the first stir of dawn’s light brightened the eastern skies and she turned on the small light over the oven, then poured herself a cup of the freshly brewed coffee.

As she sipped, she realized she was hungry, and that sent a stabbing guilt through her. How could she sleep? How could she even think about food when Billy had been kidnapped? Was he being fed? Was he warm? The questions tormented her.

“Good morning.” Lucas’s deep voice came from behind her and he flipped on the overhead light.

“It can’t be good if Billy and Jenny aren’t here,” she replied.

She heard him open a cabinet and knew he was getting a cup for coffee. A minute later he joined her at the table. His sleep-tousled hair did nothing to detract from his handsomeness. She waited for him to tell her that he’d get them back, that everything was going to be okay. When he didn’t, her heart clenched so tight she felt as if she were suffocating.

“At least we both got some sleep,” he finally said.

She set her cup down. “I feel horrible, that I could sleep and not know if my son is being fed or being allowed to sleep. And you know what makes me feel even more guilty? The fact that at the moment I’m thinking about making some scrambled eggs and toast because I’m starving.”

He reached across the table and captured her hand in his. “You can’t feel guilty about the things your body requires to live. You have to eat and you have to sleep.”

His hand was big and strong and warm around hers, and she welcomed the warmth, the touch. Maybe the old adage was true, that misery loved company.

“Are they coming home, Lucas?” The question was a mere whisper and until the words left her lips she hadn’t realized she was going to ask it.

His gaze held hers. “I don’t know.” He squeezed her hand more tightly. “I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I don’t think you’d appreciate me lying to you.”

“Absolutely not,” she agreed. “I want to know every piece of information you know, every feeling you have. I need to know what’s going on every minute.”

He nodded, released her hand and leaned back in his chair. “Now I have a very important question to ask you.”

She sat up straighter, steeling herself for whatever he might need to know. “What?”

The corners of his lips turned up in a smile that momentarily erased the stress lines of his face. “Are you making the eggs or do you want me to? I have to confess I make a mean omelet.”

Her burst of laughter surprised her, not only with its unexpectedness but also in the fact that it eased some of the knot of tension in her stomach. She sobered almost immediately and pointed to the stove. “Knock yourself out. I don’t think a man has ever cooked me breakfast before.”

“Then sit back and relax and let me do the driving,” he replied as he stood.