Protecting Her Secret Son Page 2

  “I followed you,” he replied, confirming her guess. “What are you doing here?”

  Rachel’s phone had gone silent, so she hit redial. “My son.” She choked. “Should be here. H-he’s not.” Daniel wasn’t a cop, but he knew plenty of them. She had to tread carefully. Aiden’s life depended on it. “The sitter should be inside.” With the phone in her hand, she fought tremors as she pointed to the busted door. “I need to check on them.”

  “Hold up.” He stepped in front of her. “We need to call the police first.”

  “No!” She made a grab for his phone. “You can’t call anyone or he’ll hurt Aiden.”

  “He who? What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “Just hold off on the police for a minute and let me check on my sitter and her kids. I’m going inside.” She used her elbow to nudge aside the broken door, calling Rachel’s name again. Daniel followed, silent as a shadow. She found her friend’s cell phone under the toe kick of the kitchen island, the screen cracked.

  As the ringing died and the voice mail message came through her phone, Shannon caught the unmistakable sound of crying children from the other side of the basement door. The doorknob was broken off, preventing their escape.

  “Rachel? Boys? Are you okay?”

  The crying faded and she heard shushing noises. “Shannon, is that you?”

  “Yes.” Relieved, she felt her hammering pulse ease a bit, though her friend’s voice was faint and full of pain. “Are you hurt? Should I call an ambulance?”

  “No. No police!” Rachel coughed and sputtered, tried to talk again. “I’m fine. The boys are fine. They said no police.”

  They. So more than one person attacked her neighbor, kidnapped her son. “I know. It’s okay,” Shannon assured her. “She sounds weak,” she murmured to Daniel. “How do we get her out?”

  Daniel ran his hands over the door hinges. “On it. Give me a second.” He jogged out of the house.

  As she spoke through the door with the boys, they confirmed Rachel’s claim that they weren’t injured. She hoped the same held true for their mother.

  Daniel returned, tool belt slung over his shoulder. He made quick work of popping out the hinges and Rachel and her boys emerged from the basement.

  For a long moment, Rachel clung to Shannon, quaking from the ordeal. When she finally sat down at the kitchen table, her brown eyes were filled with worry and sorrow. Her gaze shifted between Shannon and Daniel. “You didn’t call the police? He’s not a cop?”

  “No,” Shannon replied. “This is my boss, Daniel Jennings. He followed me when I left the job site.”

  “Thank God.” Rachel hugged her boys close. “Oh, that’s horrible and I know it.” She pressed her hands to her face, hugged her boys again. “They took Aiden. I’m sorry.” Tears flooded her eyes, rolled down her cheeks. “They promised to come back if we called anyone. Not that I had a phone to use down there. How did you know?”

  Shannon couldn’t say the words, just pulled up the messages and showed Rachel. Daniel, too. No sense hiding the truth of this fiasco from him now. He scowled for a long moment at the phone, but he didn’t say anything.

  Meeting Shannon’s gaze, Rachel only cried harder. Daniel handed her a roll of paper towels. “They had Aiden before I knew what was going on,” she said, blotting her face dry. “I’m so sorry, Shannon. You know I love him like my own.”

  “I know.” She sat down and hugged her friend, taking and offering comfort through an unthinkable crisis. “They didn’t hurt your boys?”

  “These two seem to be fine,” Daniel said gently. He had the twins perched on stools at the kitchen island and had given them each a juice box. He handed Rachel a bottle of water. “Tell us how it went down.”

  “I heard a loud bang near the gate and suddenly two men stormed into the yard, out of nowhere.” She tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear and dabbed at her eyes.

  “They smashed the gate like Hulk,” one of the twins reported, while his brother nodded.

  “I was over there—” she pointed “—at the sink, watching the boys play while I cleaned up breakfast. And...” She coughed again.

  “Take your time.” Shannon urged her to sip the water.

  Rachel obliged. “One of them had my boys,” she continued. “The other was hauling Aiden off the swing, toward the gate.

  “There was no time to react. I grabbed my phone to call for help, but it was too late. The one with the twins kicked the door in and shoved his way inside with my boys.” She went over and laid a hand on each head. “He pushed them through the basement door. I screamed and he sprayed something in my face. Knocked my phone out of my hand.” Lost in the recollection, she stared at the cracked phone screen.

  “How long ago?” Daniel prompted.

  “Two hours, maybe?” She squinted at the oven clock. “No, a little more than that. We’d just had breakfast.”

  Shannon’s vision blurred with tears. Two hours was a big head start. “They only called me a few minutes ago. They could be anywhere with Aiden by now.”

  “Did he say anything?” Daniel asked.

  “Told me not to make a report or—or else.”

  Daniel’s nostrils flared and Shannon had the feeling he was suppressing a string of choice words and opinions unfit for the ears of little boys.

  “Did they say anything to you guys?” Daniel asked the twins.

  “They were bossy,” the first twin replied.

  “And mean,” his brother added. “They smelled like spaghetti.”

  “Seriously?” Daniel cocked his head.

  The boys nodded in unison.

  Rachel shrugged. “Maybe. Whatever he sprayed in my face made me groggy and choked me. I woke up on the landing, the boys crying over me and trying to wake me up.”

  “You always wake up when we cry,” one twin declared.

  “We can take you to a hospital,” Daniel offered. “Get you checked out.”

  “I’m fine,” Rachel said.

  “The cough may be more related to the spray,” he said. “You shouldn’t take the chance.”

  “Not now, not today,” she insisted. “What are you going to do?” she asked Shannon.

  What could she do? “I’m not sure,” Shannon confessed, staring at her phone. “I won’t report it,” she promised Rachel.

  “You have to,” Daniel countered. “The kidnappers are gone, coming back isn’t smart.”

  She shook her head as Rachel gasped in fear. “I believe the threats. I won’t put this family at risk.” She pulled Rachel into another hug. “I don’t know why this happened, but I don’t want you in the middle of it.”

  “The men this morning put me in the middle of it. You’re one of my best friends. You and Aiden are family. Whatever you need, we’ll help.”

  Moved beyond words, Shannon could only hug her again.

  Daniel pulled out his phone. “I’m calling one of the guys to take care of this door and the gate.” He turned the phone to Rachel. “Is there someone else to stay with you when he’s done?”

  “My husband’s traveling on business. He won’t be home until next week.”

  Shannon caught the flare of concern in Daniel’s dark blue eyes. “I’d feel better if you could go somewhere else for a few days at least. You shouldn’t be here alone,” she said.

  When Rachel agreed, Shannon helped her and the boys pack while Daniel and one of the Jennings carpenters she didn’t normally work with repaired the damage. She kept expecting another message from the kidnappers, some proof of life or a demand she could work with, but nothing came through.

  She leaned against her car door, trying to smile as she waved to Rachel’s boys as the family left their house to visit her mother a few hours away in New Jersey. “At least they’
re out of harm’s way. What now?” she murmured, at a complete loss.

  “You need to call the cops,” Daniel said flatly.

  “I can’t. You heard Rachel.”

  “They took your son,” he said, incredulous.

  “I know!” She bit her lip against another outburst.

  “What aren’t you saying?”

  “He called,” she said. “When I got here. When I walked into the backyard, he called and said...” She couldn’t get the words out. “He said he’d send Aiden back to me in pieces if I involved the police.”

  “Oh, Shannon.” He rubbed her shoulder.

  The immense sympathy in those two words overwhelmed her. She didn’t know if she should lean into him or run away. “Thank you for helping her and fixing everything.”

  “I followed you to help you,” he said, a lick of impatience in his voice. “You need to report this.”

  “If I do and they hurt my baby, it will be my fault. I can’t live with that.”

  “What’s really going on?”

  “I don’t know much more than you do.” She didn’t realize she was crying again, or that Daniel had her wrapped in his arms, until the fabric under her cheek was damp.

  “Will you trust me?” he asked when she quieted.

  It seems she already did. She eased back from his solid warmth and tried to regain some distance and some dignity, a lost cause at this point. “I won’t speak with the police. Not yet, not after those threats.”

  “How do you feel about former police?”

  She shook her head. “Daniel—”

  “Your place is nearby, right?” He looked toward the corner, squinting at the street signs.

  “Around the corner,” she answered, caught off guard by the shift in topic. She supposed he knew her address from her personnel file.

  “We’ll drop off your car and then you’re coming with me.”

  “You need to get back to the job site.” She should go back as well, there wasn’t anything she could do other than wait for the kidnappers to make a demand she could work with.

  “Ed’s got it under control.”

  She groaned, thinking of her immediate supervisor and the project manager on the house they were finishing up. A little older, Ed Scanlon was patient and easygoing most of the time. Over the past few years, she’d come to think of him as the older brother she’d never had. “I need to call him, let him know I won’t be back.” She pushed a hand through her hair. “What am I going to tell him?” He doted on Aiden. If she told him the truth, he’d be relentless about pressuring her to call the cops. Daniel posed plenty of opposition without Ed chiming in.

  “I handled it,” Daniel said. “I outrank him, remember?”

  Ed was a friend as well and she didn’t want to hurt him. “Handled it how?” She gaped at her boss. “You didn’t tell him the truth.”

  “No, I didn’t. And the guy who helped me with the repairs got a story about an attempted home invasion. Come on now.”

  “I’m not talking to the police.”

  “Trust me, I got that part loud and clear.” He reached around her and opened her car door. “First, your place. Lead the way.”

  She fought back tears as she drove, wishing the phone would ring. Threats or demands, she didn’t care, as long as whoever held Aiden gave her another glimpse of her son, alive.

  “I’ll find you, baby,” she vowed to the empty booster seat in the back. “You’ll be home soon.” She put all her thoughts toward how they would celebrate his homecoming and almost succeeded in blotting out the worst-case scenarios.

  * * *

  Daniel followed her to a tidy little rental in a duplex on another quiet street in the established, family neighborhood. Either she or the landlord took good care of it from what he could see out here.

  His money was on her. Shannon’s work ethic and positive attitude inspired and spurred on the others. No surprise. His father, as the head of Jennings Construction, made a habit of hiring quality people and doing everything possible to keep them happy on the job. Fewer employee turnovers meant better profits. Having seen her on various job sites, he knew how much the crews liked her and her son.

  He’d known her address and phone number from the employment records, noticed she’d been in the area for almost five years and at this address for just about four. No mention of a spouse in her file, current or ex. He knew from the chatter around the job sites that she didn’t date a lot, either.

  Jennings was her only employer after her son had been born and her two local references came from a little restaurant where she’d been a waitress and the owner of a tile store where she’d been a showroom assistant. Shannon had juggled the two jobs through most of her pregnancy.

  Daniel felt like a stalker for being able to pull all of that right out of his head. He’d never reviewed employee records for personal reasons before Shannon Nolan. After today, he never would again. If he wanted a date, he was better off using one of the apps the guys at the firehouse talked about.

  Except something about her and her son had appealed to him from the first time he’d spotted her painting the intricate spindles of a porch rail on an exterior remodel project.

  Late spring, he recalled, a fresh and clear afternoon. Her painting hand, those long fingers tipped with short unpainted nails, had been steady as she rocked the baby seat gently with her toe in time to the music Ed had pumping from the radio around front. The sunshine had highlighted the many shades of her fair hair. She’d worn it long then, had cut it some time ago, leaving a fringe of bangs that framed her wide brown eyes in a fine-boned face.

  That scene had stayed with him all this time, daring him to stop wishing about it and take action. For years, he’d fabricated excuses that centered around her being an employee and off-limits. Now, on the day he’d been ready to ask her out, disaster struck.

  “Take the hint,” he muttered. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”

  He could write off the idea of asking her out, probably for forever. Lousy timing didn’t get worse than this. She’d always associate him with her son’s disappearance, no matter how things turned out, and he hoped like hell they’d turn out right. Good people should have the happy endings in life.

  Quickly veering away from that line of thought, he watched her leave her car, relieved when she walked down the drive toward his truck. At least he wouldn’t have to chase her down and haul her bodily into the vehicle. He couldn’t fault her reasoning behind cooperating with the kidnapper and yet he couldn’t step back and let her deal with it alone. Just wasn’t wired that way.

  She didn’t say anything when she climbed into the truck, buckled up. He didn’t know what to say, so he let the silence fill the cab, the situation percolating in his head while they drove out to the Escape Club.

  The club owner, Grant Sullivan, had created a hot spot for local bands and music lovers at the pier on the Delaware River. While business boomed, so did the side work. As a retired cop, Grant persistently and quietly built up a reputation for using the club to help people in the community.

  It had started with giving short-term jobs at the club to cops and other first responders, and little by little, the concept had grown into something bigger and yet more flexible.

  When a case slipped through the cracks of normal law enforcement, often Grant and his connections proved effective and helpful. Daniel knew of several instances of Escape Club staff helping locals out of tough spots, large and small. He’d been peripherally involved on recent cases involving two of his friends from the fire department, Mitch and Carson. With Mitch’s assistance, a murderous stalker had been stopped, and for Carson, a drug-dealing scam had been exposed and justice served.

  He didn’t expect Shannon to believe him about Grant’s effectiveness, and he’d leave the sales pitch to Grant. At t
his point, he could only pray Shannon would listen and give Grant a chance to try.

  Shannon leaned forward as he parked in the delivery lot near the kitchen. “Escape Club?”

  “You’ve heard of it?”

  “Rachel and her husband have had date nights out here.” She didn’t look at him, her face turned toward the river rolling by. “They say the music is always great.”

  “They’d be right.” He released his seat belt and shifted to face her. “The owner, Grant Sullivan, is a former cop. Hang on.” He held up a hand to stop her protest when fear flooded her big brown eyes. “Former,” Daniel repeated. “He has connections and resources on and off the force. Believe me, I understand why you want to cooperate with the kidnapper.”

  “You have children?”

  “No.” He couldn’t quite laugh it off. He wanted kids, had always assumed he’d be a husband and father. At thirty-two, he’d expected to be on that path by now. He had a foggy picture in the back of his head of noisy family dinners with his parents doting on grandkids and a strong, caring wife to help him navigate life. He just hadn’t met her yet, the woman who could love him and stand by him despite his career as a firefighter. “That doesn’t mean I can’t see that this is hell for you.”

  She swiped a tear from her cheek and rubbed her hands on her torn and paint-stained work jeans. “What can Grant do?”

  “It’s always a surprise,” Daniel replied, hopeful. “Come on.” He eyed the traffic on the street, but didn’t see cars circling the block or people paying specific attention to them. The club, usually bustling by noon on a Saturday, wouldn’t open until four tonight in anticipation of a special concert. Daniel was on the schedule to arrive by seven to help at the bar through closing.

  Opening the back door, the hard thump and kick of the drums poured out. More than likely, that was Grant enjoying a jam session before the band arrived for the final sound check. The man loved to sit in with the bands whenever possible.

  Guiding Shannon down the hall and into the club, Daniel paused at the end of the bar. “That’s Grant up on stage,” he said to Shannon.