Page 126 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

“I don’t want to screw up their investigation.”

“I want my son back. I’ve got a friend who was in the special forces. He owes me a big favor. I think I’m going to call it in. You talk to Rachelle, I’ll call Sam.”

A part of her wanted to hold back, to let the police do their jobs. They had the manpower, they had the equipment, they had the knowledge. But Jack was right. They weren’t related to Beej, and they hadn’t been able to stop this horrible wave of killings. Too many people close to her had died already. No one had saved Gran or Rory or Cherise or Tanya. “How long will you be gone?” She hated the thought of being without him, of not being able to depend upon his strength.

“As long as it takes.”

“You won’t have a car. The Jeep’s parked out front. If you take it, someone will see you.”

“Sam will come get me, or I’ll jog to Jannelle’s. I still have a second set of keys for her Lexus, and her house is less than two miles from here.”

“Uphill.”

“Yeah, but I’m in great shape.” He managed a thin, humorless smile.

“I don’t know,” she said, then looked into his eyes. Clear and determined, they held hers. She knew then she couldn’t change his mind.

Reckless, bold, irreverent, and bullheaded—when Jack became passionate about something, he didn’t back down, not even, it seemed, to the police or the damned FBI.

“I’m going, Cissy. Keep your cell on. One way or another, we’ll find our son.” He walked through the house, casually making certain all the shades were drawn, that no one could see inside.

“Maybe the police will find him first,” she said hopefully.

“Good. Then I just look like an overzealous nutcase of a father. I don’t care.” He reached for his windbreaker hanging on the hall tree, then stopped as if a sudden thought had cut through his brain. “But you, Ciss. You stay here.”

“After all your big talk about getting our kid back? You’re telling me to ‘stay,’ just like you would a damned dog? I’m in this too.”

“Someone’s got to remain here, keep the police thinking that we’re playing by their rules. There’s a chance we’re going to lose B.J., we both know that.”

“No!”

“Okay, we’re trying everything we know to keep that from happening, but if it does,” he said, conviction running through his words, “it’ll kill us both.”

“Don’t say it,” she begged. “Don’t even think it!”

“And I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you. So you stay put. And safe.” He slipped the windbreaker over his sweatshirt and found his running shoes.

“I’ll be fine,” Cissy insisted, stiffening her spine. “Do what you have to do, Jack. I will too.” She felt a renewed sense of purpose as he laced the shoes. “You’re right about one thing, though. This monster who’s got him, Diedre or Elyse or whoever she wants to call herself, she’s never going to bring him back to us, never going to let him go.” She was keyed up, anxious, needing to do something. “Okay, go. Get our boy back.”

“Jesus, I love you,” he said, and she believed him. Strong arms surrounded her, dragged her tight as he kissed her hard, destroying the breath in her lungs with a passion that told her he thought he might truly never see her again.

That thought was crushing. She clung to him. What if she lost him? Lost their son.

He drew his head back. “I need a distraction, so that the police or feds won’t see me leave.”

“You act like you’ve done this before.”

“Don’t ask,” he said, and looked around the connecting rooms of their house. “We’ll turn off the lights in the back, just leave the one to the stairs and bedroom on, maybe a lamp here in the living room, but I want the kitchen dark. I’ll slip through the garage and crawl out the window on the side of the house while you make a quick call from the landline, just to get the FBI’s attention. Let the dog go outside to do her thing and take the receiver with you. If anyone asks about it, tell them you couldn’t find your cell and were just dialing the cell number hoping it would ring so you could find the damned phone.” He glanced around the house. “Tell them that the dog needed to go out, so you stepped onto the patio.” He looked at her again, his features taut. “I only need a couple of minutes to cut through Sara’s yard and get over her fence. Then I should be able to make my way to the street two blocks over. Two minutes. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he said and started

for the garage but stopped. “Wait!” Taking the steps two at a time, he flew upstairs and turned on the bathroom light and shower, so that the water was running through the pipes. He was downstairs again within a minute. “If anyone asks, I’m in the shower.”

“And then what happens when the police wait around for you to come out as prune man?”

He flashed a smile. “Then, darling,” he said, kissing her on the forehead, “we’re screwed.”

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