The New Hope Cafe (21 page)

The fact she’d left the rocking chair she’d sworn to keep
forever should tell him something was wrong. She’d also set the bear on end in
the middle of the seat. He couldn’t miss that message.

As they drove, Barrett spun a sticky-sweet web around them,
talking about the new house, the private school for Beth Ann, couples’ tennis
lessons, a less demanding job for him, family fun nights, on and on, until she
felt like she was suffocating.

“Nothing matters more than our family,” he continued. “Not
hobbies, not classes, not friends, not relatives. We’ll devote more time to each
other, not get foolish about
our selfish whims,
right?
” His glance was the lash of a whip.

Barrett’s fury was a ticking clock. He was holding it together
now, but soon enough he would explode, punish her, hurt her, possibly kill her.
How much time did she have? And how could she be sure Beth Ann stayed safe?

It was hard not to lose hope. Even if Jonah did figure out she
was in trouble, he didn’t know where they were headed. He didn’t know Barrett’s
name or her last name. The plates she’d put on her mother’s car were from
California, but that wasn’t much to go on.

No, she was likely on her own. Maybe that was how it should
be.

* * *

J
ONAH
READ
C
ARA
’
S
note again.
Long goodbyes are hard.
She’d
promised to stay until he got back. And a
smiley
face?

Really?

Rosie sat glumly at the table. “She ran off so she wouldn’t see
a grown man cry,” she said, but her feelings were hurt, too. Her first
chemotherapy had been less miserable than she’d expected and she wanted to tell
Cara. “They didn’t even take Bunny’s bike.”

“The trailer was hitched. All she had to do was throw it in.
That makes no sense. What about the chair?” He tromped down the hall and found
it sitting there. He wanted to toss it out the window. It had caused nothing but
pain in his life.

Then he noticed the bear he’d carved. She’d put it in the chair
on purpose. It was a message. That she didn’t need his protection? She’d said he
couldn’t rescue her, but this was a pretty harsh way to make the point.

Maybe she meant it hurt too much to keep it.

So say so in the note, dammit. And with a
frownie face at least.

He tromped back down the hall.

“It’s too quiet around here,” Rosie said. “Maybe I need a
boarder. You’ll be gone soon, too.”

“Not for a while.” Not until her treatments were over. The
furniture show had gone great. He’d sold most of his pieces and the deal with
the manufacturer was percolating. He’d even checked out a couple apartments,
thinking about Cara and Beth Ann the whole time.

“I’m going down to check the kitchen,” he said.

It was a mess. The back of Jonah’s neck began to prickle. This
was not like Cara. There were even trays of buns waiting to be bagged. She’d
worked hard to make sure the café would run smoothly without her. She would have
cleaned up after Evan, no question.

That wasn’t like her.

None of this was like her. Not the lame note, the smiley face,
the abandoned gifts. What had she said about the chair?
I’ll keep it forever.

She wasn’t rejecting his help. She was
asking
for it. She was in trouble. Had her ex-husband found them?
Kidnapped them?

Jonah dialed Evan, who’d been the last person to see them
today.

Evan told him Cara had gone to Tucson to meet with a bakery
about selling her buns, returning a little over two hours ago. They hadn’t
talked. Evan had been in a hurry.

“Did she seem rushed? Or scared? Was she alone?”

“She seemed tired, not rushed,” Evan said. “What’s going on,
Jonah?”

“I’m afraid something’s happened.” He took a deep breath. “Her
ex-husband just got out of prison for trying to kill her. She’s afraid he’s
after her.”

“Is that why she was freaked out about the good-luck buns
story?”

“Yeah. I’m afraid he’s kidnapped them.”

“How did he find them?”

“I have no idea. That bakery visit seems odd. On a Sunday?”

“They called her yesterday. Word’s getting around about the
buns. In fact, I expected a reporter from
World Traveler
Magazine
to show up here by now. He called and got a lot of
background from me.”

“A reporter?”

“Don’t worry. I told him the baker wouldn’t talk to him. He
didn’t care. He said he’d cover how fame affects a small town. He asked for a
hotel, so I gave him the Sleep Inn’s number.”

Jonah went on full alert. “Did you verify who he was?”

“No. He sounded legit. You think he was her ex?”

“Maybe.”

“He asked a lot of detailed questions about the café. Jesus. If
it was him, I helped the guy. Lee Schmidt was his name. My laptop’s on. Let me
check.” Computer keys clicked. “I’m on the site. Checking…
Jesus Christ.
There’s a Lee Schmidt, all right. Picture’s right
here. It’s a woman.”

“Damn.” Electricity shot through him. Cara had been right to be
afraid. “I need to call the sheriff’s office. Hell, I don’t know the guy’s name
or Cara’s real last name. I’ll get the plate number from Rusty. California tags,
so that’s probably where he came from.”

“If he was here, he stayed at the Sleep Inn. I know a couple
clerks. I’ll find out and get back to you.”

“Okay.” He made the calls to Rusty and the sheriff’s office,
but Cara’s car was a nondescript white sedan and unless they were speeding, the
Highway Patrol was unlikely to catch them.

Dammit. Cara and Beth Ann could be terrified hostages on the
highway somewhere right now. The man had nearly killed Cara before. What if he
wanted to finish the job? Jonah’s gut clenched.

He went out to the café porch to pace, while he waited to hear
from Evan. They could have been gone for almost two hours. That’s a lot of
highway miles. Every second took them farther away. Jonah was about to get in
his truck and start driving, when his brother pulled up and ran up the steps to
him.

“They came in a rental, California plates, and stayed three
nights. White car. I got the plate number.”

“They?”

“Yeah. There were two of them. A middle-aged blonde named
Deborah Price checked them into a suite and got two keys. A much younger guy
joined her each night, using the back entrance. The maid thought it was creepy,
like he was a gigolo.”

“We need to call the sheriff’s office with the rental car
plates,” Jonah said.

“Already did.”

“I’m going after them.”

“That’s crazy. They have two cars. They could split up.
California is a big-ass state, Jonah.”

He stared at his brother. “I have to do something. I’m losing
it.” He ran his fingers through his hair, wanting to jump out of his skin.

“I can see that. Let’s go in and talk this through. Maybe you
know more than you think you do. I’m friends with one of the dispatchers. She’ll
feed us any information they get, like where they rented the car. That’s likely
where they’ll head from here.”

“Okay. Maybe you’re right.” Jonah blew out a breath. He needed
to know more before he took off.

Inside, Evan said, “You eaten anything?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll fry you some eggs.” He went into the kitchen.

Food would help, too. “Keep the burner low and use plenty
of—”

Evan turned to him.

“Right. You know how to fry an egg. Sorry. Weren’t you
working?”

“I told Carlos I had a family emergency.” He slapped down
butter and grabbed eggs. “I’m sick to death I helped the guy. Me and my big,
damn mouth.”

“If it weren’t for your big damn mouth, we wouldn’t know as
much as we do. You talk to people. That’s a good thing. I’m the one who screwed
up. Cara kept telling me the guy was capable of anything, but I treated her like
she was crazy. I should have stayed here, watched out for her.”

“You couldn’t know any more than I could. Forget laying blame.
Let’s figure this out. The guy was in prison in California, right?”

“That would be my guess, yeah.”

“I bet there was plenty of news coverage of his trial.
Newspapers subscribe to fancy clipping services. Call the
New Hope News
and ask for Tina. She’ll search the archives with
whatever keywords you can come up with.”

“Someone else you dated?”

“What can I say?”

Jonah grabbed the newspaper from the rack and located the
number. “At least it’s a place to start,” he said. “Thanks, Ev.”

“I’ve got your back. You always have mine.”

Evan was acting as big brother at the moment and Jonah needed
that. If Cara hadn’t helped him see Evan with new eyes, that might not have been
possible.

When he found her, he would thank her.

And he would find her. Or die trying.

* * *

W
HEN
B
ARRETT
GOT
out of the car to pump
gas, Cara slipped the cell phone from her pocket, her heart in her throat. She
smiled through the windshield at him, powering up the phone without looking.

She’d wanted to warn Beth Ann to be ready to run, but Barrett
had sent her with Deborah to buy snacks.

When Barrett turned to put the nozzle into the tank, Cara
looked at the phone. The battery was scary low. She pushed
9,
then
1,
then stopped. If police
descended, sirens blaring, Barrett might pull his gun and they’d become
hostages. That would be a disaster.

The rescue had to be controlled. She punched in Jonah’s cell
number. She would give him the basics and he would call the police.

Hurry, hurry, answer.
Barrett was
pulling the nozzle from the car. She had a few seconds while he put in his card
and paid.

“Hello?” Jonah said.

She wanted to weep with relief, but she spoke quickly, the
words bursting like bullets from her mouth. “We’ve been kidnapped by Barrett
Warner. He has a handgun. We’re headed to a resort, probably Tucson. My mom’s
following us in a rental car. The resort has a water slide. We’re in my
car.”

“We’ve got the plate numbers.”

“You figured out my message.”

“Absolutely.”

Barrett started to turn toward her, but Beth Ann ran up to him,
holding out candy, buying Cara more time.

“Call the police, but no sirens. Whatever we do has to be
quiet, so Barrett doesn’t panic and Beth Ann doesn’t get hurt or scared.”

“We’ll get you out of there. Don’t worry.”

“I’m powering off the phone. Leave a message with the plan.
I’ll call when I can.” She slid the phone into her purse just as Barrett opened
his door. “Bethie remembered I like red licorice,” Barrett crowed, waving a
piece.

“I got your favorite, too,” Beth Ann said from the backseat,
setting a Heath bar on the console. “Are you mad at me?” she asked
plaintively.

“Of course not,” Barrett snapped. “She couldn’t be mad at a
girl who wants the best for her family, could she?” He shot Cara a look.

“It’ll be okay,” Cara said to Beth Ann, who looked dazed and
jittery. “I promise.” Cara had to get her alone and tell her what was going on
so she wouldn’t freeze at the crucial moment.

Meanwhile, Barrett gnawed on the licorice whip, content as a
child. He thought they were a happy family making a fresh start.

That was his weakness.
She would
use it, wait for him to let down his guard and then escape. It sounded much
easier than she feared it would be.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

C
ARA
FIGURED
A
busy resort would offer
many chances to escape.

Not so. Barrett sent her mother to register so all they had was
a short walk to the secluded casita. Not a soul saw them.

The casita was roomy, with a full kitchen and a separate
bedroom.

“You and I will share the foldout, Beth Ann,” Cara’s mother
said, “so your mom and dad can have their privacy. We’ll have a slumber party,
you and I!”

“Sounds perfect,” Barrett said. Cara’s heart sank. Alone in a
bedroom with Barrett. She couldn’t bear for him to touch her. She had to escape
before then.

“I have an idea,” Barrett said. “Why don’t you and Grandma
check out the water park, Bethie, while Cara and I catch up.” He winked at
Cara.

He wasn’t waiting for bedtime.

Cara’s blood ran cold. She’d come too far to endure that
horror. “Let’s all go,” Cara said. “Let’s get our suits on, Beth Ann.” In the
bathroom, they could talk and Cara could check for messages, maybe make a
call.

She started for the bags, but Barrett caught her arm. “After
supper we’ll all go. You and I will stay here.” There was steel in his
voice.

Beth Ann’s eyes shot to Cara, who managed a smile. “All
right.”

“We’ll scope out the fun parts,” Cara’s mother said. “Get your
suit.”

Beth Ann did as she’d been told, but she was clearly nervous.
When they were gone, Barrett drew Cara to the sofa. “Isn’t this better?”

It couldn’t be much worse. She was alone with the man who’d
tried to kill her. She couldn’t help trembling.

“Quit that,” he snapped. “There is no need for hysteria. I love
you. I would never hurt you.” He seemed to calm himself and continued in a more
wistful tone. “Every night in prison, I dreamed of us in bed the way we used to
be. You were so sweet to me. Remember?”

She had to handle him carefully. She had to be loving but firm.
“A lot has happened since then. With my condition, you must realize that I need
time to trust you again.”

“I’ve waited three long years, Cara.” His eyes burned at
her.

Stay strong. Be confident. Dazzle
him.
“I know you want things to be right. You were a gentleman from
the beginning, waiting for me to turn eighteen. You want me to be ready.” Her
heart beat wildly.

Her words registered, but not deeply. Lust was lighter fluid to
his banked rage.

She needed more. Then it came to her. “I have another problem.”
She ducked her head as if embarrassed. “It’s that
time.
”

Barrett’s head jerked back. “Oh.”

“In fact, I need to change my…you know…”
And use the phone.
Before he could object, she got up, grabbed her
purse and made it to the bathroom, locking the door. Her heart racing, she got
out the phone and a tampon, tearing the paper near the door, so he would hear.
When she turned on the phone, it died. Damn, damn, damn.

She’d have to get the charger and try later. Aching with
frustration, she applied the tampon she didn’t need, washed her hands, then
started to leave. What if Barrett searched her purse? To be safe, she tucked the
phone behind the trash basket before she stepped out.

Sure enough, he reached for her handbag.

“What are you doing?” she said.

Barrett didn’t reply, just pawed through it, setting it down
with a sour smirk. “I guess I need time to trust you, too.” He studied her,
angry suspicion in his eyes. “In fact, I think we should go straight home. We
need a more controlled environment to get reacquainted.” With doors he could
lock, she thought. And tranquilizers he could force down her throat.

They couldn’t leave. Not with the police on the way and a plan
in the making. A plan she didn’t yet know.

The door rattled, then opened. Beth Ann ran to Cara and threw
her arms around Cara’s waist. Her grandmother wore a disagreeable expression.
“It was crowded and Beth Ann did nothing but whine and pout.”

“I wanted you to come.” Beth Ann raised desperate eyes to meet
Cara’s. Cara hated to see her suffer this way.

“You baby her,” Cara’s mother declared with a sniff.

Her impulse was to defend Beth Ann, but she realized she could
use this moment to good advantage. She dropped to Beth Ann’s level. “I know
you’re upset. This has been
soo
hard on you. You
need your Bunny, don’t you?” She was almost baby-talking. Beth Ann looked
puzzled.

Cara went to the plastic bag, hid the charger in her palm
before she grabbed the rabbit and carried it to Beth Ann. She hugged her
daughter, looking up at Barrett. “She’s exhausted, Barrett. We all are. We’ve
had a long, stressful day. Leaving again will be worse.”

“We’re leaving?” her mother said. “We just got here.” For once,
she was being helpful.

Cara realized how she could ease Barrett’s fears. “How about if
we
all
have a slumber party? We’ll open up the sofa,
order room service and watch pay-per-view movies until we fall asleep.
No one leaves except to use the bathroom.
” She
emphasized the last words, looking straight at Barrett, promising him the
controlled environment he was after.

“Won’t that be fun, Beth Ann?” she said, squeezing her arms,
begging her to agree with her eyes. Beth Ann looked confused. “How about a big
order of chicken nuggets covered with the ketchup cure?”

Beth Ann’s lip trembled at the reminder of happier days, but
she nodded, a brave trooper once again.

“Sound good?” she said to Barrett.

“I suppose.” He sounded weary, too.

“Would you order for the two of us, Mom, while I help Beth Ann
change and wash her face? I’ll have a salad.”

She practically shoved Beth Ann into the bathroom, her heart
pounding, praying Barrett wouldn’t stop them cold. She locked the door, dropped
to her knees to plug in the charger, then the phone.

“That’s my—”

Cara put a finger to Beth Ann’s lips. “Get dressed. We’re
making a plan to get away from Daddy. You need to stay calm and do exactly what
I say. Can you do that?” She handed Beth Ann her clothes.

Fear sparked in her daughter’s eyes. “He’ll be so mad at
me.”

“He’s using your feelings to trick you into doing what he
wants. He’s not better, Beth Ann. He’s dangerous. I won’t do anything until it’s
safe, okay? Will you do what I say?”

Beth Ann gave a miserable nod and started to dress.

“We’ll pretend-talk while I call Jonah.” The phone showed two
missed calls and one voice mail. To save time, she called Jonah so she could
tell him where they were and hear the plan. She flushed the toilet for sound
cover.

As soon as he answered, Cara told him the name of the resort
and their casita number.

“That’s the place we figured. The police are on their way,” he
said. “The plan is to send in a female officer as a maid with towels. When she
knocks, you two answer, then run. Deputy Collins left you a message.”

“I don’t know if he’ll allow that.” She stood and turned on the
faucet for more noise.

“It’s the best they can offer. If it doesn’t work, it becomes a
hostage situation and they follow protocol.”

“I’ll try. When?”

“An hour, maybe less.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

“Cara?” Barrett rapped on the door. “What’s going on in
there?”

Adrenaline rushed through her and the phone slipped from her
fingers, clattering to the tile floor.

Beth Ann gasped.

“What was that?” Barrett rattled the door.

“Soap dish!” Cara said, bending to hide the phone. She smiled
at Beth Ann, put a finger to her lips, then grabbed her hand and stepped out of
the room. She forced herself to return Barrett’s suspicious glare with a
smile.

He pushed past her into the bathroom and shut the door. Cara
held her breath, her heart pounding. Maybe he just had to pee.

She heard him moving around, opening the medicine cabinet, the
shower curtain, looking through the toiletry basket.

Please don’t let him find the
phone.

After a few seconds, the door whipped open. Barrett grabbed her
arm, his face red, holding the phone in his other hand. “What did you do?”

“Don’t, Daddy!” Beth Ann squeaked. “It’s my phone. I had to
charge it.”

Barrett ignored Beth Ann. Holding on to Cara, he clicked
buttons with his free hand, then put the phone to his ear.

He was listening to the message from the
deputy.
She hadn’t had time to hear or delete it.

As Barrett listened, his face changed, his eyes going hard, his
mouth tight. He squeezed her arm so tightly it tingled. He snapped the phone
shut and stuck it in his pants pocket. “Deborah, get your bag and Cara’s. Beth
Ann, take your own. We’re leaving.”

Holding Cara, he put his bag strap over a shoulder and went for
the door. Cara spoke so only Barrett could hear. “Don’t do this. It’s
kidnapping. You’ll be in prison for the rest of your life.”

“We need more time, that’s all,” he said grimly, squeezing her
arm so tightly she cried out. “Guess I don’t know my own strength,” he said. He
would soon lose control of his rage. Could they escape before then?

Beth Ann started to cry.

“Shut up!” he yelled, then spoke calmly. “I can’t think with
you shrieking, sweetheart.” He reached into his shirt pocket for a pill bottle,
thumbed the cap, popped a pill into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed. “That
should help. Now go ahead with Grandma to the car.”

Beth Ann shook her head, Bunny tight in her arms.

Barrett went very still and he spoke in a low, threatening
tone. “Did you forget about ice cream on Family Night?”

Beth Ann shot a scared look at Cara, then bolted to do what her
father had said. He’d threatened her with
ice
cream?

While Barrett marched them to the car, Cara looked right and
left for someone to signal—a gardener, a maid, a hotel guest—but no one
appeared.

In the parking lot, Barrett switched cars with Deborah and sent
her off in the opposite direction to the one they would take.

Cara pulled out of the lot.

Barrett turned to Beth Ann. “All set?” He frowned. “You’re too
old for that ugly thing.” He took Bunny from her, leaned way back to shove it
onto the back window ledge. “There. Now he can see out.”

As he did that, Cara saw the phone he’d taken from her tipping
out of his pocket. She tried to reach for it, but he sat down too soon. He
popped another pill and they drove in frightened silence, Beth Ann staring back
at Bunny, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry that I panicked,” Cara said to calm Barrett. “You’re
right about my condition. Sometimes it takes over. That was why I made the call.
What I really want is our family to be the way it was. I just need time, like
you said.”

She talked on and on and she seemed to be succeeding because
Barrett didn’t argue with her. Then she noticed that his eyelids were
drooping.

From the pills.
Maybe he would
drift off and she could stop the car, grab his gun and Beth Ann and run. That
only worked in the movies, she feared.

Barrett cleared his throat and blinked. “I need coffee.” He
looked at a billboard. “Look there. The Date Shake Ranch is the next exit. We’ll
have family ice cream after all, Bethie.”

“I don’t want ice cream,” Beth Ann wailed.

“Sure you do. You love ice cream.”

“No, I don’t. I hate it,” she shrieked.

He leaned into the backseat. “You wanted it then, though,
didn’t you?” His tone was pure evil. “More than anything. Didn’t you?”

Beth Ann went silent instantly.

Then?
What was he talking about?
Cara thought back to the attack. It had been on Sunday.
Family Night at Carcher’s.

With a jolt, it hit her. Barrett must have promised Beth Ann
ice cream. She’d told Beth Ann not to answer the phone, but if she recognized
her father’s name on the display, she might have been tempted. It was Beth Ann
who left the door open. When she went next door to play.

That was why Beth Ann hated ice cream and why she wouldn’t talk
about what had happened. She didn’t want Cara to know what she’d done. And
Barrett was blackmailing her with the secret.

He was a monster.

As Barrett leaned back, the cell phone stuck out even farther.
Holding her breath, she pushed the call-back button, hoping the microphone would
pick up their conversation for Jonah.

“It’s okay, Beth Ann,” she said as loudly as she dared. “The
Date Shake Ranch is famous for its ice cream. Just one more exit.” She had to
remind Jonah about the sirens. “We’ll go inside, slow and quiet, so no one gets
hurt.”

“Stop scaring her,” Barrett snapped. “I told you I’m not angry.
I can’t
get
angry.”

“Sorry.” She glanced down and saw the phone was black. The
battery must have died. Had Jonah heard anything? She felt more scared than
she’d ever been in her life. Her one chance at getting help had gone black.

* * *

T
HANK
G
OD
FOR
Beth
Ann’s ratty stuffed rabbit. It caught Jonah’s eye in the rear window of a sedan
pulling out of the resort parking lot just as he was pulling in. He’d whipped
around to follow and verified the plate number matched the rental car from
Barstow—the city where Warner had rented the car, according to Deputy Collins,
the officer handling the case.

Getting closer, he saw that Cara was driving, her ex-husband
beside her, Beth Ann in the back. He called Collins and informed him, warning
him again against marked cars and sirens, which would enrage Warner, who’d
somehow gotten wise to the plan or simply decided to run for it.

Staring at the car, praying Cara and Beth Ann would get away
safely, he vowed he would never let them out of his sight again. Specters faded.
He could become a better person. He was not giving up. Not this time.