Page 51 of Rescuing Sara

“Me too, darling,” Patrick gulped. “Me too. Can I get you some water or a soda before I go?”

“Soda would be nice.”

“Okay,” Patrick agreed. “Officer Johnson? Would you get this young lady a soda please? Miller! Kristopher! We’ve got the son-of-a-bitch! He held the drawing up like a recovered battlefield flag. “He’s got Danni and Mrs. M. atExcelsior!

“Aren’t you a little late?”Danni taunted. Her arms and legs ached from being bound all night. At least Freidman had sent someone to take them to the tiny bathroom in the corner. “I thought you’d want to kill us at first light.”

“Shut up,” Freidman barked. “The package got here late. But don’t worry. The syringes are being prepared even as we speak. I suppose I should offer you a last meal but I don’t think you’ll have the stomach for it.”

Mrs. M. uttered a string of profanity that startled Danni, but she had to laugh. Never go down without a fight, her dad always said. She might be tied up but maybe she could manage to get a couple of good kicks in before–” She swallowed hard and bit the inside of her mouth. She’d be blessed if she’d let Duncan Freidman see her cry.

A soft scuffle sounded on the other side of the door and Freidman smiled. “Ah, the syringes. Get ready to meet your maker, ladies.”

His stroll to the door was casual and arrogant. He stopped long enough to blow them a kiss, opened the door and cameface-to-face with Grant Miller, holding a very lethal looking weapon.

“Duncan Freidman,” he announced, backing the man into the room. “I’m arresting you for the kidnapping of Danni Blake and Fiona McGillicuddy. Anything you say will and can be used–”

“Danni!” Patrick’s hoarse cry drowned out Miller’s words to a protesting Freidman. A quickly produced knife cut Danni’s bonds while Kristopher did the same for Mrs. M. and Danni was in Patrick’s arms.

“We’ve got the girls,” he whispered, holding her like he would never let her go. “And two others.”

“How did you find us?” Danni gasped. His fierce hold on her was making it hard to breathe. As if she cared.”

“I’m going to let Sara tell you that.” He grinned and Danni was glad he was holding her up otherwise she’d be a puddle at his feet. He released her to go embrace Mrs. M. “We meet at last, Mrs. M.,” he greeted.

“We’re stopping with this ‘Mrs. M.’ nonsense right now,” the housekeeper declared, affecting an Irish accent that would make Mac proud, even if he were Scottish. “It’s Fiona from this moment on, got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” they chorused. Then Danni was back in Patrick’s arm.

“I must look a fright,” she murmured.

“A bit,” he teased, eyes twinkling.

She reached up to touch his beloved face. “I could hurt your nose again,” she warned.

“Nah, you won’t,” he challenged. “You won’t ‘cause you love me madly. Just like I love you.”

“And how do I know that to be a fact?” Danni challenged back.

“Because I told Sara I did,” Patrick said simply. “Even if I did find you in a newspaper morgue. C’mon, Danni-girl. Sara’s waiting for us.”

ChristmasEve

“This is the best kind of way to spend Christmas Eve,” Family Court Judge Peter Hastings announced. “I’ve reviewed all the paperwork, and it seems in order. Shall we proceed?”

It had truly been a roller-coaster ride since Sara and the other girls were rescued. La Belle Monde was under investigation by the FBI, IRS and a whole bunch of “alphabet soups” as Sara named them. Duncan Freidman, Ed Turner, Mr. Masters and the good Lord only knew how many of the Soli Deo Gloria cronies KPD was still rounding up. Grant Miller was having a field day. Even “Suzy the Snitch” was blabbing when she found out that her uncle Duncan wasn’t going to help her out of his mess. Freidman and his army of attorneys–who hadn’t been able to get him out of jail no matter how much he was paying them–blamed it all on The Cadre. Surprisingly, a tape had arrived at KPD of Freidman’s conversation with a suspected member of The Cadre about finding girls to purchase. The voice, obviously altered, stated Freidman was known as “The Man” to The Cadre and they were glad to hand him over to the authorities. He was more trouble than he was worth, they said.

And Danni had returned to her home. Some nights Sara was with her, sleeping in the guest room, other nights in her own bed at her old home with Fiona McGillicuddy to watch over her. Ed Turner wouldn’t be coming back to the house for a long, long time. The only decent thing he’d done in all this time was to admit to having someone at LBM forge Sara’s handwriting for that note. He was, as Kristopher put it, “a real piece of work.”

And best of all, Patrick had been by Danni’s side every night.

“OK, I’ll make this quick as I understand Miss Turner is singing at Midnight Mass around the corner,” Judge Hastings said. “Ms. Danni Blake, you’ve been vetted by Families United that your home is a safe place for Sara Turner to stay. Sara, do you want to stay with Danni Blake?”

“Yes, your Honor,” Sara said solemnly, her fingers curling around Danni’s.”

“And Ms. Blake, you want this as well? No need for legal mumbo-jumbo.”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Danni could barely get the words out.

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