Page 74 of Singing For His Kiss

She was missing.

She got the rest of the story through the one-sided conversation.

David had called James, demanding a ransom. He must have somehow found out she’d already gone to the police and decided to cut his losses and take what he could.

Her mind was a tornado of fractured thought, the little girl’s terror lashing about like a strand of loose barbed wire in the storm. She pushed down the roiling bile that constantly rose in her throat. David was an unknown factor. She didn’t trust him to look after Madeline. If he’d already done something to her…

Her body shook. It took her three times to open the door after Steve jerked the car to a stop. Finally she wrenched it open, stumbling behind the policeman, through the foyer and into Hanna’s room.

Silence rung in the room. A handful of James’ friends surrounded him. Mrs. D’llessio wept, her hands wringing the dirty apron tied about her waist as she sat next to James on the plush couch.

A movement of black caught her attention. Anastasia. To her amazement, she wasn’t draped over James or wrapped in pretension; instead, she sat, round-shouldered and still, in a chair along the wall. Concern laced her features.

James’ white-faced gaze zeroed in on her. His face was filled with tormented pain and confusion as he searched hers for answers. She’d been the one to put it there. Her knees buckled, Steve catching her upper arm so she didn’t fall. She fell beside James on the couch.

“Where have you been?” His voice cracked as he searched her face for answers.

Her mouth had completely dried. She ran a shaking hand through her hair, brushing it out of her eyes. How did you tell someone the worst thing to happen was because of her?

She ran a dry tongue over her dry lips. “I’m so sorry, James.”

His forehead creased. “Sorry? Why?” His gaze jostled to his friends' faces, then back to hers. “What are you sorry for, Elizabeth?”

“What are the demands?” Steve took over, his deep voice penetrating through the tension.

James clasped his hands, his attention shifting to the tall cop. “Ten million. Cash. By tomorrow. He’ll let me know the drop off point when I’ve got the money.”

Tomorrow?! Elizabeth couldn’t stand Madeline being alone with David for one minute, let alone all night.

“I shouldn’t have let him take her,” Mrs. D’llessio wailed. She broke down into wrenching tears.

“You couldn’t have known that waiter was a kidnapper,” James said.

“I should have known. He had that look about him, you know? The bad look. But he was dressed as the waiter. Like the others. I was busy. They were getting only peanut butter for the bread. I didn’t realise she was gone until it was too late.” The housekeeper’s voice trembled.

“If it makes you feel any better, he's a professional,” Steve said.

“Still, I should have known.” Mrs. D’llessio shook her head, eyes glazed, staring at nothingness.

“Elizabeth, you know David Logan intimately.” Elizabeth ignored the way James jerked his attention to her, keeping her eyes trained on Steve. “Can you think of a typical place he would go to hide when he was committing a crime? A hotel? Hide in plain sight in a public place? Would he lay away in a car in a side street and wait this out? What did he normally do when he blackmailed people?”

“What does he mean?” James’ voice was strained, confused. She heard the disbelieving question in his expression. How do you know?

She drew a deep breath, steeling herself. He deserved the truth. “I’m not who you think I am, James. I…I tried to tell you…”

“You know this person?” His tone was filled with disbelief.

“I tried…tried to tell you.” She trailed off, words lost.

“Elizabeth, please think. Time is of the essence. Time for explanations can come after we find your little girl, Mr. Rhyder,” Steve interjected.

She gazed at all the faces trained on her. James, friends, cops. The same expression laced on them that was in James’ voice. Accusation. Seeing it was as hard as the anticipation of it. Nothing less than she deserved. At least in this instance, she might be able to help.

Her mind whirled in a tornado again. She squeezed her eyes closed. Think. What did David usually do? He had a pattern. What was it?

Think, Elizabeth. Madeline’s fate is in your hands. It’s the least you can do for bringing this destruction on an innocent little girl's head.

What did he brag about? “Right under their noses, babe. Right under their noses, and they didn’t even know.” He’d crack up laughing, finding humour when she’d be devastated.

---