CHAPTER NINE
MAGGIE WOKE AS if from a bad dream. She felt sticky with perspiration and sick to her stomach. She fought to open her eyes against the lethargy that made her body feel made of clay.
Her mind felt as thick as her tongue. She licked parched lips and tried to swallow. So thirsty. That was the thought that pulled her to the surface.
Her eyes came half-open to reveal what appeared to be vertical metal bars. She was in jail? She closed them again as she struggled to wake up and make sense of what she was seeing.
A memory of being tied down made her pulse jump. She blinked, recalling the bright light in her face and someone putting something on her temple.
Her hand went to her temple. She felt a bandage. Her eyes flew open as she realized she was no longer bound—but she was still a prisoner. She was surrounded by thick metal bars.
She struggled to sit up, but felt too weak. Her gaze focused on the twin bed under her and then the bars around the twin-bed mattress. There appeared to be a way for the bars to be lowered on one side like a baby’s crib, but as she sat up, she saw that the latch was out of her reach. She glanced upward, looking for a way to escape, only to see that there were also bars across the top.
Her brain finally kicked in. She was in a cage!
As panic coursed through her veins, igniting her pulse, she grabbed one of the bars and pulled herself to her feet. The bars felt achingly cold in her hands. The cage had been made out of old bed frames bound together. Gripping them tightly, she shook the outside of the cage. It had only minimal give, rattling just a little. It felt too solid. She wasn’t getting out of there unless someone unlocked it.
How did I get here? Where am I? Who put me in here? Why?
Her mind whirled as she took in what appeared to be a normal little girl’s bedroom—except for this giant bed cage on one side of it.
“Help!” she screamed. “Help! Someone help me!” She screamed until her throat hurt and she was too hoarse to scream anymore.
There either wasn’t anyone out there or maybe they couldn’t hear her. The thought terrified her. Someone had left her to starve? Now more than ever she needed something to drink. As she thought it, she saw the water bottle at the end of the bed. She dropped down and grabbed it. There was only a swallow in the bottom of it. Had she drunk the rest? Or was this all she was getting maybe ever?
She thought she should save a little of it, but as she lifted it to her lips, she couldn’t stop herself. She drank it all down and wished for more. That was when she saw the plastic urinal tucked in the end of the bed.
What else had she missed? She quickly dug, hoping for something to eat, but found nothing else. Angrily, she threw the empty bottle toward the bedroom door and thought about hurling the urinal as well, but stopped herself.
Exhaustion and remnants of the drug pulled at her. Her gaze went to the sheets. She blinked as she saw the design. With a frown, she noticed that the comforter matched.
When she was little all she’d wanted was a Cabbage Patch doll. For three Christmases she’d asked Santa for one, but she’d never gotten one. That was when she’d realized that there was no Santa. At least not for her, a girl whose mother had died in childbirth and who was now being raised by an elderly aunt.
The message had seemed to be that if she wanted something, she would have to get it herself.
That hadn’t worked out well, either. She’d taken a neighbor girl’s doll. Her aunt had made her feel like a criminal. After that, she often saw her aunt watching her, expecting the worst.
Since then she’d had to fight for everything, even her own survival at times, and the weight of that unfairness had never been worse than it was at this moment. She stared down at the sheets, realizing that she hadn’t even known as a child that they made Cabbage Patch sheets. Not that her aunt would have ever bought her something so frivolous.
Suddenly tears blurred her eyes as Maggie thought of how much she’d missed out on that had nothing to do with dolls or sheets or anything that could have been bought. She was the girl without a mother—or a father, for that matter. An oddity that even her aunt had trouble loving. And now her one chance to be loved, to find happiness with Flint, had been snatched away from her. All the fight going out of her, she lay down on the bed and sobbed.
* * *
HARP SMILED TO himself as he drove away from the office. His plan couldn’t have gone better. He’d known Flint would go down to the sheriff’s office and make a fuss. What he hadn’t expected was for the man to completely lose it.
Laughing, he recalled how shocked everyone had been. Like him, they must have thought Flint had a heart of stone. Instead, it turned out that the man had more than a little passion in him. If Mark and the other deputy hadn’t pulled him off his ex-wife, Flint would be behind bars for murder.
As it was, somehow he’d skated. Why hadn’t charges been filed against him? Those Cahills, he thought with disgust.
But he was in too good of a mood to think about them and how Lady Luck seemed to smile on them. Well, most of the time. He reminded himself that Flint’s girlfriend was gone, maybe even dead. There was that.
He preferred to think about the scene Flint had made. It would get around town, and when the next election rolled around—if Flint held it together that long—Harp the Hero had a good chance of being the next sheriff.
His smile widened as he considered what he could do to make his chances better. With a groan, he realized there was something he’d been putting off. The county might be more apt to vote for a married man with a family. He nodded to himself at the thought. It was time to marry Vicki before the baby came.
He imagined her surprise when he told her she needed to start planning their wedding. She’d been acting...weird lately. He’d just thought it was the pregnancy.
But what if it was something more? He cursed under his breath as he recalled baring his soul to her at the hospital. What had he been thinking? Now she had him over a barrel for life. Unless... He frowned. Was it possible she didn’t want him anymore? Didn’t want him to be the father of her baby?
Panic whirled through him for a few moments before he laughed and glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. He was Harper Cole, one of the most eligible bachelors in town, and once he was sheriff...
He laughed again at his own foolishness. Vicki was a former waitress and not even a good one. She couldn’t do any better than him. She had to know that. And if she didn’t, then maybe it was time he reminded her.
* * *
UNDERSHERIFF MARK RAMIREZ studied the information obtained from Celeste Duma’s vehicle. Her husband had said he’d had the car serviced the day before she’d left town allegedly to go to a spa in Paradise Valley.
He checked the mileage on the car the day it was serviced, then the mileage now. Celeste had driven over seven hundred miles. It took him only a minute to check the mileage from Gilt Edge to the Paradise Valley spa. Only three hundred and eighty miles round-trip—and Celeste had said she’d never reached it, but had stopped on the way and stayed in a motel.
So how did she explain the more than three hundred extra miles on her car?
She’d lied about where she’d gone.
Mark swore. No wonder Flint had lost control and tried to choke it out of the woman. Celeste had been lying—just as the sheriff had said. But did her lie have something to do with Maggie Thompson’s disappearance? That was the question he needed answered.
He picked up the phone and called the Duma house. Wayne answered. “We’ve checked the mileage on the car. Unfortunately, the navigation system had been turned off. But it appears that Mrs. Duma didn’t go where she said she did. I’m going to need to talk to her again.”
He heard Wayne swear before he said, “I see.”
“I’d like her to come back down to the sheriff’s department.”
“And if she refuses?”
“Given the other things we know she’s done to Maggie, I’ll ask Judge McDonald to sign a warrant for her arrest.”
* * *
FLINT FELT LOST as he stopped at the saloon. He’d been driving around for hours, checking every old barn, every old building, every place he’d ever been with Celeste that might make a good place to hide a person—or a body.
His work was such a part of him that without it, he didn’t know what to do with himself. Everywhere he looked, he saw Christmas decorations. Not that many hours ago he’d been planning his and Maggie’s first Christmas together as an engaged couple.
As time passed with no word of her, he couldn’t bear the thought of the holidays without her. He’d been raised to pull up his boots and tackle whatever life threw at him. Celeste had done her best to destroy him, but he’d survived her and thought that he could withstand just about anything after that.
But this... He considered meeting Frank and Nettie in North Dakota. Not that they needed him. They’d found Jenna Holloway’s best childhood friend. Now he just had to wait and see what they learned. Anyway, he was on paid leave. He wasn’t supposed to be working any cases.
The waiting, though, was killing him. He felt as if he was coming apart at the seams. And the one thing he couldn’t do was go near Celeste. He’d gotten off easy the last time. He wouldn’t count on it again and he would be of no use to Maggie behind bars. But he was of no use to her right now.
“You look terrible,” his sister, Lillie, said when he walked in.
“Thanks.”
“Seriously, is there anything we can do?” his brother Darby asked. Hawk and Cyrus had made the same offer.
He shook his head as he pulled up a stool at the bar. “Thanks, really, but there is nothing any of us can do. Mark is doing everything he can to find Maggie. All we can do is wait.”
Lillie sat down beside him and put her arm around him. “We’re going to find her.”
He nodded, not sure he believed that. Too much time had passed.
“You want a beer or something stronger?” Darby asked.
“Just a cola.”
“What about something to eat? I’m sure Billie Dee—”
“Thanks, Lillie, but I’m not hungry.” Silence filled the saloon. He looked around, surprised the place was empty. He hadn’t even noticed when he’d walked in. “Where is everyone?”
“Probably Christmas shopping,” Darby said. “It will pick up later.”
“I’m worried about Maggie, but I’m just as worried about you,” his sister said. She exchanged a look with her twin brother. “We heard what happened at the sheriff’s department.”
He’d known word would travel fast, especially if Harp had anything to do with it. “I lost control. It’s not like me.”
“No kidding,” Lillie said.
“Who could blame you under the circumstances,” Darby said. “You really think Celeste took Maggie?”
“I know she’s lying about something. Maybe the answer will be in her car. If she took Maggie somewhere, we might be able to find her before it’s too late.”
“What do you mean, if Celeste took her?” Lillie asked. “Of course she did. Look at all the other things she’s done to her.”
“There is no proof that she did any of those things,” Flint said with a sigh. “She’s been careful so far and made sure she didn’t leave behind any evidence. Maybe we’ll get lucky. Maybe she slipped up this time.”
“I have to go,” Lillie said as her phone buzzed. “Doctor appointment.” She patted her stomach. “Please take care of yourself,” she said and hugged him so tightly that he thought he might burst into tears.
And all this time, he’d thought he was holding up so well.
“Lillie’s right. It has to be Celeste,” Darby said. “Who else would want to harm Maggie?”
The question played in his head. Yes, who? That was just it—he had no idea. Why had he never pushed Maggie for more information about her past? Because it had been clear she didn’t want to share it. Something bad had happened. He knew that much. And it had involved a man.
Flint felt a prickle of doubt run over the back of his neck as he took a sip of the cola Darby set in front of him. What if he was wrong? What if Celeste was telling the truth for once in her life? What if she hadn’t taken Maggie?
He heard a sound and turned to find Mariah had come in and stopped in the middle of the room. He hadn’t heard her enter the saloon. Darby had said she was upstairs resting. He saw her expression. “Mariah?”
She had one hand over her stomach, fingers splayed out. The other was over her mouth. Her eyes were closed, but tears were leaking from beneath her eyelids.
“Mariah?” She was scaring him. He said her name softly as he slid off his stool and stepped toward her, but still she flinched.
Darby, seeing that she was in some sort of pain, rushed to her. “What is it? Mariah? Is it the baby?”
She shook her head, her dark eyes slowly opening. They focused on Flint. He saw her swallow. “Maggie...” Her voice broke.
He felt his blood turn to ice. He heard his sister’s voice in his head. Her grandmother was a fortune-teller. Mariah says she doesn’t have the sight. But I think she’s afraid of it and pretends she doesn’t know things. Isn’t it cool? We have a psychic in our family.
It was hard for him to even say the words. “Mariah, if you know something...” Flint saw her start to shake her head. “Or even sense something, please. Anything will help.”
She took a deep breath and let it out. She looked to her husband. Darby nodded and took her hand in both of his. “I can’t even be sure it’s Maggie. But when I saw you sitting there, I felt...something.”
“Please.” All his pain came out in that one word.
“If it’s her, she’s alive. Her head hurts.” She closed her eyes again for a moment. “She’s somewhere damp and dark.” She frowned. “Not above ground. Maybe a basement? She’s...alone and...scared. It’s quiet there. No traffic.” Mariah shook her head. “That’s all I feel and I’m not sure you can trust it. But I had this strong sense of...aching love and regret.”
“Thank you,” Flint said, his voice barely a whisper. He’d never believed in any of this. He knew other police departments often called in psychics. But right now he desperately wanted to believe that Mariah was right and Maggie was alive. They just had to find her.
His cell phone rang. He quickly checked it. Mark. His heart began to pound as he took the call. Let Maggie be found alive and well. Let what Mariah said be true. “Cahill.” His voice broke.
“I’m bringing Celeste back in for questioning. Do not show up.”
“I won’t. What did you find?”
He listened as Mark filled him in on what they’d obtained from her SUV. “She went seven hundred miles, so she’s lying about driving toward Paradise Valley,” Mark said. “That’s only a little over a three-hundred-and-eighty round-trip and she never made it that far, according to her. Any idea where she might have gone?”
His pulse drummed in his ears. Celeste had lied about where she’d gone. She had taken Maggie, just as he’d thought. “Did you find her gun?”
Mark seemed to hesitate. “We found it in the car.”
So maybe he was right and it was premeditated. He hoped Celeste burned in hell for this. “I have no idea where she might have gone.” He thought of what Mariah had said. “But my sister-in-law...” He hesitated. “She sensed something about Maggie. She says she’s somewhere damp and dark belowground. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere like a grave. When you ask Celeste, she’s going to lie.”
“I know. But if she does, I’m going to arrest her.”