“Okay. Let’s get one of your books.” He carried her into the den and rummaged through the bag Abby had left. A Disney Princess book was on top. Abby and her prince books. She’d always loved them. He often wished he’d talked to his daughter more about the real world. But she had a good head on her shoulders, and he knew she’d choose a husband wisely. He thought she had until Doug showed his true colors.
He cradled Chloe close and opened the book, but his granddaughter was already asleep. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her down the hall to a guest bedroom and placed her on the bed with Baby in her arms. He laid an afghan over her. The air-conditioning was chilly.
“Shouldn’t you put some pillows around her?” Gayle asked from the doorway. “She might roll off the bed.”
“I can take care of my granddaughter,” he replied shortly and walked past her.
“Why are you so mean to me?” She followed him.
He turned to face her. “Gayle, I’m worried out of my mind about Abby and I’m not in a mood to argue with you.”
“Everett.” She stroked his arm. “I’m worried about her, too. I’m sorry if I sounded crass earlier.”
Before he could respond, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.”
Doug stood on the doorstep in white shorts and a yellow-and-white golf shirt. He removed his sunglasses, hooked them on the front of his shirt and stepped inside. “Hi, Everett. I’m here to pick up Chloe.” From his sunny attitude Everett knew he hadn’t heard about Abby. And why hadn’t he? It was on the news, the internet, everywhere.
“What makes you think Chloe is here?”
“Abby always brings her to you.”
“When you pull a no-show.”
“I had a meeting. I told Abby that.”
“Yes. At seven-fifteen this morning. The exact time you were to pick up Chloe. I’ve been a banker for a lot of years and if you had a meeting this morning, on a Saturday, you knew about it yesterday or the day before.”
“Damn it, Everett. If she would take the damn settlement, she wouldn’t have to work. If she would forgive me, we could be a family again. I’ve apologized until I’m blue in the face and I’m in counseling, but Abby refuses to give me a second chance.”
“So you use manipulative tricks to bend her to your will.”
Doug frowned. “I don’t have to explain anything to you. Where’s my daughter?”
“You don’t know, do you?”
“What?”
“Abby’s bank was robbed this morning.”
“What?”
“The bank was robbed. I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it.”
“I haven’t.” His cool facade slipped a little. “So Abby’s here, too? Is she resting?”
“Doug, Abby was taken as a hostage.”
“What?” Color drained from Doug’s suntanned face.
“The police have identified a white van that was used in the robbery. It belongs to a Calvin Williams of Austin. He said he loaned it to his son, Devon. The van was located in Houston, but there’s been no sign of the robbers or Abby.”
“Oh, my God.” Doug ran his hands through his hair. “Have you told Chloe?”
“Of course not. She’s too little to understand.”
“She needs to be with me. Where is she?”
“You’re not taking her. Abby’s last words were for me not to let you have her.”
“That’s insane. I’m her father.”
“Still, she stays here until Abby returns.”
“You’re crazy, Everett. I’m taking my daughter.” Doug pushed past him and headed for the hall doorway.
Gayle stood there with one of his golf irons in her hands. “You better leave, Doug, unless you want a really bad headache.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Try me.”
“Fine.” He held up his hands. “I’ll be back with a policeman and you’ll have to give her to me.” He turned on his heel and slammed out the front door.
Everett eased into his chair, his breathing shallow. “Call Holly and have her come get Chloe.”
“Why?”
“I think I’m having a heart attack.”
CHAPTER FOUR
ABBY COULDN’T GO ON. Her sweaty clothes clung to her body. Her muscles ached and her skin felt on fire. Dragging hot air into her weak lungs made her dizzy. She sank to her knees.
“E-than” came out as a croak.
He swung around. “Hey, you okay?”
“I have to rest a couple of minutes.” She crawled through the leaves and dirt to a tree and leaned against it, praying for a breeze, something to grant a reprieve from the god-awful heat.
“Sure. I’m just going to check things out.”
Check things out? Was he nuts? It was trees and more trees, bushes, dirt, leaves and brittle dried grass. The scenery was monotonous and boring. And deadly. The word shot across her brain with chilling foreboding. She scooted up closer to the tree, the bark cutting into her back. She would not give up this easily.
Ethan was some distance away, gazing at the dried grass, and then he glanced toward the sky. What was he doing? Evidently searching for the van tracks. But what was in the sky? He suddenly strolled toward her with long strides. He didn’t even seem tired. Whatever exercise program he was on, it worked. His clothes and hair were also sweaty, but he wasn’t gasping for breath. The man had stamina. He was probably one of those guys who could make love all night long.
Now, where had that thought come from? Obviously she was losing it.
He plopped down by her. “Better?”
“No. I’m thirsty and tired.” She turned her head to stare at him. His dark hair was plastered to his head like a wet cap. A complacent expression etched across the rawboned lines of his face. “Why aren’t you tired?”
“I am. I just don’t whine about it.”
“If I had any strength, I’d smack you.”
“Save all that indignation for walking.”
“Okay, Ethan James.”
