Trumped Up Charges. Joanna WayneЧитать онлайн книгу.
word choice continued to haunt her—someone claiming to be the kidnapper.
Please, God, let this be more than a claim.
She spotted the detective on the covered porch, standing in the stalking shadows cast by a pair of aged oak trees. She jumped from the truck as it rolled to a stop and raced to hear the rest of the story.
The detective was not smiling when he greeted her. She paused a few feet away as her gaze zeroed in on a FedEx envelope the detective held in his right hand along with a small plastic bag. When she looked closer she recognized the bag’s contents.
A pink ribbon with a row of intricate hearts that she’d last seen tied around Lacy’s ponytail.
She took a deep breath. “That’s Lacy’s ribbon. Where did you get it?”
“It came in the envelope with the message.”
She gulped in air and relief. “Then the man isn’t just claiming to be the kidnapper. He has my girls.”
“You’re sure about the ribbon.”
“It looks exactly the same.”
Only Hadley was certain Lacy’s hair had not been in a ponytail when she’d gone to bed last night. The loose red curls had been spread about her pillow when Hadley tucked her in and kissed her good-night as well as when she’d checked on them just after one.
Now that she thought about it, Lacy’s hair hadn’t been in a ponytail when they’d taken her mother to the hospital. Lacy must have taken the ribbon out when she and Lila were playing dress-up with their grandmother’s old hats, shawls and shoes just after lunch yesterday.
The kidnapper must have taken it from the dresser for this very purpose. “May I see the message?”
“Yes, but I think we should go inside and sit down first,” the detective said.
“How much is the ransom demand?” she asked.
“Worry about that later,” Adam said. “First, we should hear the detective out.”
As if she had a choice. She fumbled in her purse for the house key before she remembered that Adam had locked up. He opened the door, and she led the way to the small formal living room where the detective had questioned her that morning.
Adam waited until she sat down and then dropped beside her on the sofa.
Adam Dalton, the man who had once thrilled her with his smile and made her blood run hot with his kisses. Adam, who had captured her heart so completely only to shatter it when it suited his purpose.
Letting him back into her life was likely the worst choice she could make for so many reasons. But this wasn’t about her or protecting her heart or hiding her secrets.
Nothing mattered now except Lacy and Lila and bringing them safely home again.
Detective Lane took the chair directly across from Hadley and then took his time pulling a sheet of paper from the FedEx envelope. “This is only a copy,” he said. “The actual note is considered evidence and is being checked for fingerprints and DNA residue.”
The note was written in the type of scribbled print a first grader might produce. Hadley read it quickly before taking a deep breath and reading it a second time, this time out loud.
“Your daughters are safe and being well taken care of. If you want them to stay that way, do exactly as you’re told from this point on. You have two days to get the ransom together. I want five million dollars delivered in unmarked twenty-dollar bills. Believe me, I will know if they’re marked and you’ll never see the twins again. Stay tuned for further instructions. Lacy and Lila send their love.”
“Bastard.” Adam followed that outburst with a string of muttered curses. He took the note and read it for himself before returning it to the detective. “Is that the envelope the note came in?”
“No, like the note, the original packaging has been taken as evidence. But the envelope was delivered at 5:32 this evening.”
Hadley checked her watch. Just over an hour ago. “Was it delivered to the police station?”
“No. It was delivered here and addressed to you. The officer we had watching the house signed for it.”
“I don’t recall you mentioning this morning that officers were staking out the O’Sullivan home,” Adam said.
“It’s routine in a case like this.” Lane reached across the coffee table and handed the plastic-encased ribbon to Hadley. “I need you to officially identify this without taking it out of the bag.”
“It’s Lacy’s hair ribbon,” Hadley said again. “But she wasn’t wearing it when I tucked her into bed.”
“When was the last time you saw the ribbon?”
“Yesterday afternoon, before we left for the hospital.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I put her hair in a ponytail after lunch, but she must have taken it down when she and Lila were playing dress-up.”
“So the ribbon might have been taken at any time yesterday afternoon?”
“Or taken when the girls were kidnapped.” Adam shifted and sat straighter, meeting the detective’s questioning stare head-on.
“Possibly,” Lane agreed.
“How about just saying what you have to say, Detective, instead of playing games?” Adam said.
“The ransom note was dropped off at a downtown FedEx location at five minutes past nine last night,” Lane said. “12:00 a.m. is the last pickup from that station for next-day delivery in the Dallas/Fort Worth area.”
“That can’t be right,” Hadley said. “The girls were here and asleep at eleven after one. I checked on them myself.”
“Maybe the clock you checked has the wrong time,” Adam said.
“I don’t think so,” Hadley said. “But there’s a quick way to find out.” She bolted to the bedroom with Adam and the detective at her heels.
The clock was to the minute with her watch. “I don’t see how this could be,” she said. “If the FedEx timing is accurate, it means the ribbon had to be taken and the ransom note written before the girls were abducted.”
“Looks that way,” Lane agreed.
Hadley wrapped her fingers around the bedpost. “There must be some mistake.”
“Who mailed the note?” Adam asked.
“John Doe from a nonexistent address. The charges were paid with cash.”
“So impossible to track,” Adam said as they walked back to the small, formal living area. “That figures.”
“But we do know the man will get in touch with us again,” Hadley said. “He won’t walk away from the chance to pick up five million dollars.”
Five million dollars she didn’t have and had little chance of coming up with on her own. Her mother lived well, but Hadley was almost certain she couldn’t get her hands on that much money—not even if she sold the house. And selling the house would take far too much time.
“Is there some organization that lends money in abduction situations like this?” she asked.
“We’ll deal with the ransom later,” Lane said. “For now, let’s concentrate on what we know. Someone had access to the house both before and at the time of the abduction. Apparently they come and go at will. That significantly narrows down our suspects.”
He put up his hand and counted off on his fingers. “Your mother. You. Am I missing anyone?”
“Matilda,” Hadley said, knowing exactly whom he was referring to.
Lane