“I didn’t come here to cause you trouble, Maggie.”

“I just don’t want any part of the media hype surrounding you and your son, Eli,” Maggie said. Kane almost believed her.

Almost believed her, but didn’t.

Kane dealt with secrets every day. He knew when a person was hiding something.

Right now, he had no choice but to let her keep her secrets, but Kane had no intention of letting Maggie suffer because of the part she’d played in bringing Eli home.

“Okay.”

“What do you mean, ‘okay’?”

“You’ve got a right to your privacy. Whatever your secrets are, I’m not going to try to uncover them. But if you’re in trouble because of what you’ve done for my family, I’ll do whatever it takes to help.”

“Are you in trouble, Ms. Tennyson?” Eli asked. Kane could have kicked himself for giving his son more to be anxious about.

He wanted to find out what was really going on, but doing so in front of Eli wasn’t smart. Kane would bide his time, wait until he had a chance to speak to Maggie alone, and then he’d try to get to the bottom of things….

SHIRLEE MCCOY

has always loved making up stories. As a child, she daydreamed elaborate tales in which she was the heroine—gutsy, strong and invincible. Though she soon grew out of her superhero fantasies, her love for storytelling never diminished. She knew early that she wanted to write inspirational fiction, and began writing her first novel when she was a teenager. Still, it wasn’t until her third son was born that she truly began pursuing her dream of being published. Three years later she sold her first book. Now a busy mother of five, Shirlee is a homeschool mom by day and an inspirational author by night. She and her husband and children live in Washington and share their house with a dog, two cats and a bird. You can visit her Web site at www.shirleemccoy.com, or e-mail her at shirlee@shirleemccoy.com.

Running Scared
Shirlee McCoy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For you have delivered me from death and my feet from stumbling, that I may walk before God in the light of life.

—Psalms 56:13

To my daughter’s other family. May God bless you abundantly for the love you give to the children whose lives you touch.

And to my parents, Edward and Shirley Porter. You have taught me the two most important lessons of all—the value of faith and the value of family. Thank you.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

LETTER TO READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

The wind howled, throwing ice and rain against the windows and roof of Maggie Tennyson’s attic apartment. She shivered, grabbing a thick flannel shirt and tossing it over her fitted T-shirt. It was a good night to stay inside, snuggled up in front of a glowing fire, reading a book, drinking cocoa, maybe even watching a movie.

Too bad that wasn’t an option.

She grabbed her duffel bag and the satchel that contained the day’s ungraded tests, slipped into her coat and hurried out the door and down a flight of stairs that led to the Victorian bungalow’s spacious foyer. The tinny sound of the television drifted from the living room, its flickering blue light splashing across the hardwood floor as Maggie tiptoed past the open door.

The old wood floor creaked beneath her feet, and she hurried forward, turning the doorknob and pulling open the front door. Cold air blew in, carrying icy winter rain and the sharp, crisp scent of pine needles.

“Maggie Mae? Where in the world are you going?” Edith Lancaster peered out of the living room, her eyes flashing with curiosity.

“Out to the house,” Maggie responded, closing the door and turning to face her landlady. She didn’t have time for explanations and conversation, but trying to dodge either would be like waving a red flag at a bull. Better to give Edith a few answers inside the house than to be followed out into the rain and waylaid on the front porch where anyone could see her.

“On a night like tonight? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Edith stepped into the foyer, her sharp brown eyes taking in everything. The bulging duffel. The satchel. Maggie’s faded jeans and wool coat, her gloves and hat.

“It’s a long weekend. I figure I can get quite a bit done on the house over the next four days.” Could Edith hear the slight trembling of Maggie’s voice? Could she hear the fear in it?

“Maybe, but I still don’t think going out to the Miller monstrosity on a night like tonight is a good idea.”

“It’s not the Millers’ place anymore, Edith. It’s mine, and if I don’t get some work done on it, I won’t be out of your hair by Christmas.” It was as good a reason as any to leave at nine o’clock at night during a wintry storm. The breaking news story about Nicolas Samuels was an even better one. No. Not Nicholas Samuels. Eli Dougherty. A child missing for nearly five years and now reunited with his father. Eli and the woman who’d called herself his mother had shown up in town a month before school began. They’d made no friends, had taken no interest in the community. Until Eli walked into the classroom where Maggie worked as a teacher’s aide, he had been a complete stranger. It hadn’t taken long for that to change. There’d been something about the solemn little boy that had tugged at Maggie’s heart, and she’d spent extra time helping him with assignments and encouraging him to take part in playground activities. She’d also listened, really listened, to what he’d had to say about his life before he’d moved to Deer Park.

And now Eli’s story was running on every local and national news station in the country.

Was that what Edith had been watching?

Maggie didn’t dare ask.

No one could know about her part in the unfolding drama. Not Edith. Not Maggie’s friends and coworkers. And most definitely not any of the reporters who were scouring Deer Park, Washington, searching for anyone willing to talk about the little boy and the woman who had been posing as his mother for five years.

“You’ve never been in my hair, and you know it. You’re one of the best renters I’ve ever had, and I’ll be happy to extend the rental contract for a few more weeks. Even months if you need the extra time,” Edith said, and Maggie blinked, trying to refocus her attention on the conversation.

“You’re sweet, but you and I both know that you have another renter lined up to move in the day after I leave.” They’d discussed it several times in the month since Maggie had purchased the property outside of town.

“The renter is my grandson, and he can wait a few extra weeks. So, why don’t you stay home for the night? We’ll have popcorn and watch television together. Every single station is running the story about that little boy who was taken from his father five years ago. Can you believe he’s been here for months and no one knew?”

“No. I can’t.”

“You’ve got to wonder how the police finally figured it out. One of the news stations said an anonymous source contacted them with information. Anonymous? Who stays anonymous unless they have something to hide? That’s what I’m wondering? Maybe—”

“I’ve really got to go, Edith,” Maggie cut in, her heart racing, her stomach churning. If Edith was asking those questions, plenty of other people would be, too. Journalists, newspaper reporters, television news anchors. People who would dig for answers until they found them. Until they found Maggie.

“I suppose you’re right. If you’re set on going, you shouldn’t wait any longer. The storm is supposed to keep up all night, and the roads are only going to get more slippery. Be careful out there, you here?”

“I will be.”

“When will you be back?”

“Sunday night.”

Maybe.

Or maybe she’d be halfway to somewhere else by then. Some other town, some other identity. Living a new life. Starting over. Again.

Hot tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She’d been through plenty in the past few years, and she’d survived. She’d survive this, too. She hoped.

She jogged to her car, ice bouncing off her head and coat as she threw her duffel and satchel into the trunk. Edith was right. It wasn’t a good night to be out. Maggie wanted to be tucked away in her attic apartment, grading tests. She wanted to take Edith up on the offer of popcorn and TV. More than anything she wanted to go back in time, make better choices, be the person she was now, then.

“But, you can’t, so get over it. You made your mistakes and you’re going to have to live with the consequences. Or die with them,” she muttered as she pulled out onto the road.

Ice pinged off the car windows and bounced off the road, settling onto grass and trees and covering the asphalt with a layer of slippery moisture. The car fishtailed on the slick surface, and Maggie gripped the steering wheel with sweaty palms. She’d grown up in Florida, and even after three years of living in the Northwest, she still wasn’t used to driving in icy weather.

So, why are you? Why not stay home instead of heading out into the storm? God has taken care of you for this long. Do you really think He’s going to turn His back on you now? She didn’t.

Of course, she didn’t.

But there was nothing wrong with being cautious. That’s what going out to her country property was. Caution. Not lack of faith. Not fear.

“Right. Keep on telling yourself that, Maggie. Maybe by the end of the weekend, you’ll believe it,” she mumbled, her heart pounding frantically as the car fishtailed again. It had been a long day. A long few days. No way did she want to add a car accident to the stress. She needed to slow down, take a deep breath and concentrate on what she was doing.

She eased her foot off the gas, barely coasting as she turned onto the country lane that led to her new home. Tall pines and broad oaks shimmered in the darkness, dancing in the gusting wind and waving Maggie on. Years ago, someone had planted those oak trees. Someone had tended the fallow fields that lay beyond them. Now the five-mile stretch that led to Maggie’s property was dark and lonely.

Maggie didn’t care. The old farmhouse was every thing she’d ever wanted. Large and airy with big rooms and turn-of-the-century charm, the place had been abandoned years ago. Would probably still be abandoned if Maggie hadn’t gone on a country drive and seen it. Run-down, used up, lonely. Those were the things she’d thought when she’d looked at it, and she’d wanted to fix it up. Give it new life.

She’d thought she’d have plenty of time to do that.

And she would have if Eli hadn’t walked into her life.

But he had, and everything had changed.

The car slid to the left, the tires spinning uselessly on ice and slush. Maggie tried to steer into the turn, but this time the car couldn’t be righted. It slid across the road and nose-dived into a shallow ditch.

“Perfect.” Maggie shoved open the door and scrambled out into the storm, shivering as cold wind speared through her coat and settled into her bones.

The front end of the car was tilted down, the wheels sunk deep into icy muck. If there was damage, Maggie couldn’t see it, but she couldn’t see a way to get the car out, either.

She pulled out her cell phone, dialed the local garage that had kept her aging Ford running for the past three years. It took several tries before someone answered, and Maggie frowned when she was told that it could take hours for the tow truck to arrive.

She could sit in the car and wait until then, or she could walk the rest of the way to the house. She stepped out into the street and stared down the road, trying to figure out how far she was from the farmhouse. There were no visible landmarks, just more pine and oak trees, more ice and silvery rain, but she was sure she’d traveled a few miles before she slid into the ditch. At most, she had another two miles to go. An easy walk on any other night, but a slippery one during a late-fall storm.

Still, she’d rather slip and slide all the way to the house than sit in the car imagining shadowy figures sneaking up from behind. Imagining him sneaking up from behind.

She shuddered, grabbing her duffel and satchel from the trunk. The wind gusted, shaking needles and branches, the sound shivering along Maggie’s nerves as she picked her way along the dark road. She’d never been afraid of the dark, never much worried about things that went bump in the night, but the storm gave life to the darkness, whipping shadows, bending pine boughs, whispering and whistling through the trees.

And no matter how much she told herself otherwise, no matter how much she reminded herself that she wasn’t alone on the dark country road, that God was with her, guiding her, protecting her, Maggie was afraid.

Bright light speared through the darkness as the sound of a car engine mixed with the howl of wind and pinging ice. Maggie jumped to the side of the road, her feet slipping out from under her as she scrambled to move out of the way of the approaching vehicle. She went down hard, her breath leaving on a painful whoosh.

A car door slammed, footsteps crunched on ice, and Maggie twisted and managed to push to her feet, to face the person backlit by headlights.

Tall. Large muscular build. A man. She was sure of that. A hat covered hair that might have been any color, but Maggie imagined it was midnight black. Black hair.

Black eyes.

Sinfully full lips that could smile or snarl depending on his mood.

Derrick?

For a moment, Maggie let panic take her, let it spear through her stomach and her mind until the only thought she had was escape. She took a step back, her feet slipping in ice and mud.

“Careful. You don’t want to end up on the ground again.” The deep voice didn’t belong to Derrick, and the hand that wrapped around her wrist, holding her steady as she regained her balance, was firm without being tight, controlled rather than cruel.

“You’re right. Thanks.” Her voice shook, and she cleared her throat, trying to quiet her frantic, panicked breathing.

“You’re Maggie Tennyson, right?”

A journalist. He had to be. Somehow he’d found out about Maggie’s part in reuniting Eli with his father, and he’d tracked her down. It wasn’t good, but it was better than the alternative—Derrick standing in front of her, ready to mete out the vengeance he’d promised more than three years ago. “That’s right.”

“I thought so. Your landlady said you were heading to your country home. She seemed really concerned that you wouldn’t make it. Something about threadbare tires and a lightweight car.”

“I guess she was right to be worried, because the car ended up in a ditch,” Maggie said, surprised that Edith would give out information to a stranger. But then, Edith did like being in the loop, and she’d love being part of one of Deer Park’s biggest-ever news stories.

“Fortunately, mine is made for this kind of weather. How about I give you a ride to your place?”

“My mother always told me not to accept rides from strangers, and since I’m not far from home, I think I’ll listen to her advice. Thanks, though. I appreciate the offer.” She kept her voice light as she started to turn away.

“Maybe it’ll help if I introduce myself. I’m Kane Dougherty. Eli’s father.”

Eli’s father—the man who’d been searching for his missing child for five years and whose impassioned plea for his son’s return had been replaying in the news since word of the father and son’s reunion had broken that morning—was standing on the country road that led to Maggie’s house.

And Maggie wished desperately that he wasn’t.

“I asked the sheriff not to tell you who I was.”

“And I told him that I needed to know. You brought me the miracle I’ve been praying for, and I wanted to thank you in person.”

“I’ve never needed thanks for doing the right thing, Mr. Dougherty.”

“Kane. And you may not need thanks, but I need to give it. How about I start by making sure you get to your place in one piece?”

There was no sense in refusing the ride, no way to undo the fact that Kane Dougherty was standing in front of her, so she nodded, trying to smile past the nerves that knotted her stomach. “Thanks. It’s not far.”

“It wouldn’t matter if it was a thousand miles. I’d still be happy to do it.” The words were suave and easy, the kind of thing a player might say to impress a lady, but there was sincerity in Kane’s tone that Maggie couldn’t deny.

He opened the car door, and the interior light went on, highlighting the black leather seats and the young boy who sat in the back. As always, Eli was still and watchful, his pale freckled face anxious and wary.

“Hello, Nicolas. Or do you want me to call you Eli now?”

“Eli, I guess.” But he didn’t look happy about it, and Maggie wondered how the transition was going for father and son.

“I missed you in school today,” she said, sliding into the car and turning to face the nine-year-old boy.

“They said I couldn’t go.”

“Who said that?”

“My…” Eli shot a look in Kane’s direction. “Father and aunt and the police. They said there were too many people who wanted to talk to me and take my picture.”

“They were right. You wouldn’t want a bunch of strangers following you all over the school.”

“I guess not, but now I’m going to have a lot of make-up work to do.”

“Not so much. It is the day before Thanksgiving, after all. Mrs. Trenton didn’t even assign homework.”

“She didn’t?”

“No. So you can stop worrying and enjoy your vacation.” Maggie leaned over the seat and ruffled Eli’s hair, then settled back into place as Kane rounded the car and got behind the steering wheel. She caught a flash of a strong jaw and high cheekbones, tan skin and deep-set eyes before the door closed and the interior light went off.

“I don’t think Eli considers this a vacation. It’s more a slow torture.” Kane’s voice was light, but Maggie heard the tension in it.

“Is it that bad, Eli?” She glanced over her shoulder, but Eli was staring out the window and didn’t respond.

“He’s had a rough couple of days. Haven’t you, sport?” Kane started the engine and drove down the road, the silence that followed his comment thick and telling.

“It will get better,” Maggie said, praying she was right. Eli had been taken from his home the previous morning and reunited with Kane less than twenty-four hours later. It was going to take time for him to adjust to his new circumstances. Time for him to realize that he really was where he belonged.

“You’re right. And in the meantime, we thought it would be nice to come for a visit with one of his favorite teachers. Right, Eli?”

“She’s my only favorite teacher.”

“That’s very sweet, Eli, and I’m happy for the visit, but it really isn’t a good night to be out and about.”

“I figured the weather would make it easier for me to get to you without bringing the press along. The sheriff said you’d like your role in things kept quiet and that you didn’t want any part of the press.”

“He’s right.” She’d asked Sheriff O’Malley not to mention her name to anyone. Including Kane. Apparently, he hadn’t respected her wishes.

“It took me a while to get the information out of him, but I think, being a father himself, he couldn’t deny me the chance to thank the person who gave me back my son.” His voice had gone gritty with emotion, and Maggie touched his shoulder, felt the corded muscle beneath his coat and let her hand fall away.

The last thing she wanted to do was make a connection, allow herself to be pulled into the drama of Kane and Eli’s life, pulled into the spotlight with them.

“Like I said before, I don’t need thanks. I did what anyone would have.”

“Then why didn’t anyone? Why didn’t…” He glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned. “I guess now isn’t the time to discuss this.”

“No, I guess not.” Not with Eli sitting behind them, listening to every word.

“So, how about we discuss it over dinner Friday night?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got a busy weekend ahead of me. My driveway is to the right. At the white mailbox.”

“I’d say that everyone has to eat, but that would be cliché. So how about I just suggest we do it another time?”

“I really can’t, Kane.”

“Because you want to stay away from the press?”

“Yes.”

He was silent for a moment, and Maggie expected him to ask why that was so important to her.

Finally, he nodded. “Okay. So, how about we just meet out here again next weekend? I’ll bring dinner, and we can chat.”

“Next weekend?” He was staying in town that long? She’d thought that Kane and Eli would fly to Kane’s New York home soon after their reunion and take their entourage of reporters with them.

And Maggie would be safe again.

“Unless you’d rather do it on a weeknight. We’ll be moving into our rental on Monday—”

“Rental?”

“A few blocks north of the school. I asked Eli if he wanted to go back to New York now or wait until the end of the school year. He wants to wait. Right, bud?”

“Right.” Eli’s response was subdued, and Maggie wondered if he wanted to leave Deer Park, Washington, at all. He’d once told her that he’d lived in seven different states and attended the same number of schools. Shy and serious, he didn’t make friends easily, and Maggie was sure the frequent moves had only made things more difficult.

“I’m glad you’re staying until the end of the school year.”

Even if that meant Maggie would have to leave.

“Me, too. I like it here. So, since I’m staying, will you have dinner with me and my father next weekend?”

“I…” Can’t was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t say it without offering an excuse, and she didn’t have one. “I’d love to. As long as nothing comes up between now and then.”

Kane stopped in front of the old farmhouse, and Maggie opened the car door, shivering as cold wind slapped her cheeks. “I guess we’re here. Thanks for the ride.”

“I’ll walk you up.” Kane got out of the car and walked around to escort her.

“I’m fine, Kane. I think it’s best if you and Eli head back.”

“We will, but before I go, I wanted to let you know that there’s a hundred-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to Eli’s recovery. It’s yours.”

“What?”

“The money is yours. My lawyer will transfer the funds to your account—”

“No.”

“No?”

“I don’t want money. That’s not why I listened to Eli’s story about having a father in New York, and it’s not why I contacted the sheriff when I realized what he was saying might be true.” She fished the keys from her purse, opened the front door, stepped inside and flipped on the foyer light.

“That doesn’t mean the money isn’t yours,” he said, the light spilling over him, highlighting a face that belonged on a magazine cover. High cheek bones, a square jaw shadowed with stubble, lips that were full and firm. The wide brim of his hat threw shadows over eyes that were the same deep green as Eli’s. Was his hair red like his son’s?

“Look, I apprec—” Maggie’s words were cut off as lights flashed at the end of her driveway. Someone was coming, and she didn’t plan to stand in the doorway, waiting to find out who it was. “I need to go. Tell Eli I’ll see him at school.”

“Wait—”

But Maggie couldn’t afford to wait. Not when the headlights were moving closer and anyone with a good camera could get a picture of her standing in the threshold chatting with Kane.

She slammed the door and turned the lock, stepping deeper into the house, wishing she could believe that would be enough to keep her hidden from the world, to preserve the life she’d fought so hard for.

Please, God, don’t let it be a reporter, because I really don’t want to leave Deer Park. I really don’t want to have to start all over again.

She didn’t want to, but she would.

Because if a photo of her somehow ended up in the news, if Derrick saw it, he’d come after her. There was no doubt about that.

And there was absolutely no doubt about what he’d do if he found her.

TWO

Maggie Tennyson had slammed the door in his face. After everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, Kane wasn’t sure why that bothered him, but it did. He was tempted to knock, see if she would open the door again. He had a few questions he’d like to ask her.

Like—why was she so afraid of being in the spotlight? Why was she unwilling to accept the reward? Why did seeing a car pull into her driveway make her bolt?

He was tempted, but he wouldn’t.

He had other things to worry about. Like reconnecting with his son.

Headlights splashed on the dirt driveway as Kane hurried back to the SUV he’d rented, and he eyed the approaching vehicle, wondering if it was possible that he had been followed from the hotel.

He might not understand Maggie’s desire to stay anonymous, but he wanted to respect it. If a reporter did approach, Kane had no intention of mentioning Maggie’s name or of explaining why he was at the property.

Of course, a good reporter would be able to find out who owned the farmhouse and might begin conjecturing about why Kane would bring Eli there.

To his relief, a tow truck pulled up beside the SUV and a gray-haired man got out. “Howdy. Maggie around?”

“She’s inside.”

“Glad to hear it. I nearly had a coronary when I got to her car and she wasn’t in it. Weather’s not good for taking a hike.”

“I gave her a lift.”

“Looks like her Ford isn’t damaged, so you can tell Maggie that she’s fine to drive it. Needs to put chains on the tires, though. Better yet, she should get new tires. Hers are looking threadbare, and that’s not good for driving in the winter around these parts,” he said almost absently as he unhooked the Ford.

“I’ll let her know.”

“Appreciate it. Tell her I’ll bill her, or she can just drop into the shop and pay when she’s got time.” He finished the job and turned to face Kane again, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Eli peering out the window of the SUV. There was no doubt the driver recognized him. There probably wasn’t a person in Deer Park who wouldn’t have. Eli’s image had been plastered across the front page of the local newspaper and featured on local and national news.

Kane braced himself for the comments and questions, the well wishes and speculations that he’d been hearing since he had arrived in town late the previous night.

Instead, the driver smiled at Eli, offered Kane a brief nod, got into his truck and drove away.

Would he spread the word that Kane and Eli had been visiting Maggie?

For her sake, Kane hoped not.

“Let’s go give her the message, Dad.” Eli climbed out of the car, brushing against Kane as he started walking toward the old farmhouse Maggie had disappeared into.

Kane wanted to put a hand on his son’s shoulder, connect with him in that small way, but he knew what Eli would do. He’d stiffen, holding himself tense and tight until Kane backed off. He wouldn’t verbally protest the contact, but he wouldn’t relax into it, either.

Give it time.

That’s what the counselor who’d accompanied Kane to his first meeting with Eli had said. But Kane had already lost five years of his son’s life. In that time, the bubbly four-year-old had turned into an anxious, unhappy little boy. It was a reality Kane had expected. One he’d thought he’d prepared for.

But how did a father prepare to meet a child he hadn’t seen in five years? How did he reconcile memories with reality and balance his own need to connect with Eli’s need to hold back and wait things out?

Kane didn’t know, so he was simply going with the flow, taking it a minute at a time and praying he’d figure things out along the way.

He followed Eli up rickety porch steps and waited as he rang a doorbell that didn’t seem to work.

Maggie must have been watching from one of the narrow windows that bracketed the door. Old wood creaked as it swung open, and she hovered at the threshold, smiling at Eli. “I thought you two were heading back to town.”

Despite the smile, there was a nervousness about her, a tension in her muscles and her mouth that Kane didn’t miss.

“We have a message for you, Ms. Tennyson. We came to deliver it,” Eli replied in the overly formal way of his that Kane found both amusing and unsettling. Nine-year-old boys were supposed to be full of mischief and jokes. They were not supposed to speak like aged gentlemen.

“Well, then I guess you’d better come in and tell me what it is.” Maggie motioned for them to enter the house and quickly closed the door.

She’d taken off her coat, and the faded jeans and oversize flannel shirt she wore were as easy and comfortable as her smile. Golden-blond hair fell around her face in tangled waves that she brushed behind her ear, and Kane caught a whiff of a subtle, flowery perfume as she leaned a shoulder against the wall. She had an effortless beauty. The kind that didn’t need makeup and fancy clothes to enhance it.

The kind that Kane had always found alluring.

“So, let’s have it. What’s the message?” she asked.

“Your car is back, and it’s not damaged. You can drive it. And you’ll get a bill for it, or you can go and pay for it next week.”

“I always knew you had a good memory, Eli. Now, if you can just use it to memorize your multiplication facts while you’re waiting to go back to school, you’ll be all set.” Her tone was gentle, her eyes a soft blue, her lips deep rose. All her attention was focused on Eli, and Kane suddenly understood why his son had been so desperate to visit Maggie. The combination of beauty and attentiveness would be a hard one for a kid like Eli to resist. It would be a hard one for anyone to resist.

“Maybe you could help me get them memorized,” Eli said hopefully, and Maggie smiled again.

“I’m sure your father and aunt will want to do that.”

“They’re going to be busy getting the new house ready. They won’t have time to help me.”

“We’ll always have time for you, Eli.” Kane broke in, hoping he didn’t look as disheartened as he felt. The transition into being a family again was going to be a rough one. He’d known that going into it. He’d hoped, though. Hoped that Eli would be more eager to rebuild what they’d once had.

“I guess so.” But Eli didn’t look like he believed it.

“Guess so? Of course they will. You’re the only reason they’re in Deer Park, and I’m sure they’d much rather help you with math than get some stuffy old house ready.”

Maggie’s response was light and easy, but Kane didn’t miss the concern in her eyes.

“Maybe. But you could help me, too. If I had three people helping, I’d be the best at multiplication in the whole school.”

“You’re quite a negotiator, aren’t you? Maybe you’ll grow up to be a lawyer.” A lawyer?

That’s what Kane had been before he’d opened his P.I. firm, and it’s what had nearly cost him his son. Prosecuting Lee Peyton and getting him convicted of murder had been the catalyst that sent Peyton’s mother, Susannah, over the edge. Deprived of her only son, she’d decided to take Kane’s. At least that’s what the FBI agents working the case were speculating. Susannah Peyton wasn’t talking. Whether she ever would was something Kane wouldn’t speculate on.

“I want to be a detective. Like my father.”

The comment surprised Kane, and he had to resist the urge to put a hand on Eli’s shoulder, tell him how proud that made him feel. There was no sense in ruining the moment, and he knew from experience that physical contact with Eli would do just that.

“Sounds like an interesting career choice.” Maggie glanced at Kane again, her expression guarded. Was she bothered by the fact that he was a private investigator? Or was she simply wishing he’d take Eli and leave?

“It has been,” he offered, not nearly as anxious to go back to the hotel as Maggie might be to have him leave. Eli’s silence during the past few hours had weighed Kane down. Sports, school, friends, every subject he’d tried to discuss had been met with a one syllable response or no response at all. Maggie didn’t seem to be having the same problem.

“I used to dream about being a private detective,” she said, and Eli’s eyes grew wide.

“Really?”

“Sure. I read just about every Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys book there was, and I wanted to be a teen detective just like them.”

“Were you one?”

“No. I guess I forgot the dream for a while.” Her smile faltered, and Kane wondered what memories had chased it away.

“So you’re a teacher instead.”

“Training to be one. Speaking of which, I have got some sugar cookies in the kitchen that I need a taste tester for.”

“Taste tester?” Eli seemed intrigued, and Maggie offered him a hand, leading him down the hall.

“Sure. If you like them, then the other kids probably will, and I’ll bring some in for a special treat one day.”

“When I’m back at school?”

“Of course.” Maggie pushed open a door, leading Eli into the room beyond.

Kane followed, feeling like a third wheel. He tried not to let it bother him. Maggie was a familiar face, a caring adult who’d listened to Eli when no one else would. Kane was a distant memory, a faded dream that Eli probably hadn’t been sure was real. A dead man suddenly alive.

Kane would be scared, too, if he were in Eli’s place.

He tried to keep that in mind as he walked into the large kitchen. It was in a state of chaos. New cabinets, new floor, new paint. No countertop. No appliances. A large watermark stained the ceiling, and colorful glass tiles lay on a nicked table. A warped, cracked door let in gusts of cold air, and Kane had a feeling there were other cracks in other doors in the house. In windows. Maybe even in the roof.

Maggie might not want a monetary reward, but it was obvious she could use one.

“Excuse the mess. I’m still in the middle of renovations,” she said as she reached into an upper cupboard, pulled out a package of cookies and offered one to Eli.

“It looks like you’ve done a lot already.” Kane lifted one of the glass tiles, running his finger over the cool, smooth surface. “These are going to look good when they are up.”

“I hope so. It took me forever to pick them out.”

“You’re planning to put them up this weekend?”

“Maybe, but first I’ve got a couple of windows and doors to put in.”

“By yourself?”

“It’s Thanksgiving weekend. My friends are celebrating with family, so that leaves me. If I want to be moved in by Christmas, I’ve got to work whether I have help or not.”

“Why don’t I see if I can hire a contractor to come in and finish the job for you?”

“No.” Her tone was sharp, and she glanced at Eli, who’d already grabbed another cookie from the package. “I appreciate the offer, but I planned to spend the weekend working at my own pace and doing my own thing.”

Kane wanted to argue. He wanted to remind Maggie that he owed her everything and that he’d be more than happy to make sure the entire house was renovated before her Christmas deadline.

Wanted to, but didn’t.

She’d already made her position clear, so he kept quiet as she offered his son one more cookie.

His son.

Here in the room with him.

He’d prayed for this, hoped for it, but there had been a part of him that had given up believing that God would provide the miracle he’d wanted so desperately.

“Want one?” Maggie asked, holding out the cookies, her hand shaking a little.

Was she angry? Nervous? Scared?

Something was bothering her, that much was certain. He wanted to ask what, but Eli hovered a few feet away, slowly chewing his cookie and watching the exchange intently.

“No, thanks.” Kane smiled, hoping to put Maggie at ease.

“I appreciate your bringing me the message about my car. When the tow truck pulled into the driveway, I was sure it was a reporter who’d followed you from the town.”

“And that would have been bad news?”

“That’s one way to put it.” She offered a brief smile. “I don’t suppose you got the name of the tow truck driver?”

“I’m afraid not. Is it important?”

“Probably not.”

“But?”

“But I’d rather not have the news of your visit spread all over town. If Adam was the driver, he won’t say anything to anyone. If he wasn’t…” She shrugged.

“I didn’t come here to cause you trouble, Maggie.”

“You haven’t. I just don’t want any part of the media hype that’s surrounding you. I’ve got a lot to do in the next few weeks, and the last thing I need are reporters camping around my property trying to get a story.” Her voice was light, and Kane almost believed that was all there was to the story.

Almost believed it, but didn’t.

He dealt with secrets every day. Big ones. Small ones. He knew when a person was hiding something, and Maggie was.

Right now, he had no choice but to let her keep her secrets, yet Kane had no intention of letting Maggie suffer because of the part she’d played in bringing Eli home.

“Okay.”

“What do you mean, ‘okay’?” she asked, frown lines marring her forehead.

“Just that you have a right to your privacy. Whatever your secrets are, I’m not going to try to uncover them. But if you’re in trouble because of what you’ve done for my family, I’ll do whatever it takes to help.”

“Are you in trouble, Ms. Tennyson?” Eli asked, the cookie he was holding crumbling in his hand, and Kane could have kicked himself for giving his son more to be anxious about.

“Of course I’m not. Am I, Kane?” She frowned, spearing Kane with a disapproving stare.

“That was just a figure of speech, Eli. Ms. Tennyson isn’t the kind of person to get into trouble.”

Somehow, though, Kane had a feeling she was in trouble.

He wanted to push her for answers, find out what was really going on, but couldn’t. Not with Eli listening. Kane would bide his time, wait until he had a chance to speak to Maggie alone, and then he’d try to get to the bottom of things. In the meantime, the best thing he could do was clear out of the house before word of his visit spread and she was inundated with the press she was so eager to avoid.

“You finished with those cookies, sport? Because I think it’s time to head home.”

“Can I have one more?”

Kane wanted to say yes. He wanted to give Eli everything in some vain attempt to make up for all the years he’d been unable to give him anything. That wasn’t the way to build their relationship, though. God willing, he had a lifetime to live with his son, and the rules for their relationship needed to be set now rather than later. That meant being a father rather than a benevolent friend.

“You already had three. I think that’s plenty.”

“But they’re my favorite.”

“Then we’ll pick some up at the store tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and your parents are coming. We can’t get cookies when they’re here, can we?”

Your parents. Not Granddad and Grandma.

There was no connection between Eli and his grandparents, no shared holidays or birthdays that the boy could remember, nothing to make them more than strangers. But it still hurt to hear Eli refer to his grandparents in such an unemotional way.

“Sure we can. We’ll just go in the morning before they arrive. Even if we can’t, I’m sure Grandma won’t mind doing a store run with us.”

“Okay.” Eli gave in easily enough, but that was the way he’d dealt with everything during the past twenty-four hours. Whether it was his nature, a learned behavior, or simply a response to a stressful and upsetting situation Kane didn’t know. Would probably never know.

“Ready?” Kane held out his hand, his heart aching as Eli skirted by it and walked out of the kitchen.

“It must be incredibly wonderful to have your son back—and incredibly difficult to know he’s not quite yours yet,” Maggie said, neatly describing exactly what Kane felt. Elation. Sorrow. Joy. Pain. All of it mixed together in a confusing mass of emotions that Kane could only sometimes control.

“It is, but we’ll make it through this. We’ll get back to some kind of normal, and eventually we’ll feel like a family again.”

“I know you will. Eli is a wonderful little boy. He’s going to be just fine.” She walked out of the kitchen, and Kane followed, wishing he was as confident as Maggie seemed to be.

Time and patience. They were the key.

Kane just needed to keep that in mind as he navigated the new life he and Eli were forging together.

“You two be careful out there,” Maggie said as she opened the door, stepping behind it so that she wouldn’t be visible to anyone outside.

Was she hiding from someone?

If so, Kane wanted to know who.

He was tempted to go back to the hotel, log onto the Internet and do a search on Maggie Tennyson. Try to figure out what her secrets were and just how worried he should be for her.

Doing that would be a lot easier than trying to figure out the path that had taken Eli from chubby, happy toddler to quiet, solemn child. Figuring out where Eli had been, who he’d known, how it was possible that a kid whose picture had been on milk cartons and billboards, whose story had been in newspapers and on television, had escaped detection for so long, was something that Kane had to do. For his sake. For Eli’s.

Kane had learned a lot in the past decade. He’d learned that grief wasn’t fatal. He’d learned that life continued no matter how much a person might not want it to. Losing his wife had taught him that. Losing Eli had reinforced it. Now he’d been given a second chance, and he wouldn’t waste it burying his head in the sand and ignoring what his son had been through.

He opened the car door for Eli, waited as he climbed in and then shut it again. As he rounded the SUV, his gaze was drawn to Maggie’s farmhouse. She’d closed the front door, but light spilled out from a downstairs window. As Kane watched, a figure passed in front of it. Quickly. Furtively. Maggie.

The woman who’d listened to Eli, who’d cared enough to go to the police when no one else had, had secrets that she didn’t want to share. He was sure of that.

Maybe he should leave her to them, but Maggie had stepped in when others had stepped back. She’d listened to Eli’s story about having another name and another home, and she’d acted on what she’d heard. She’d been the catalyst that had brought Kane’s family back together. That was something Kane would never forget and could never repay. If what she’d done had caused her trouble, he’d do whatever it took to help her.

If she let him.

And based on the way she’d acted when they’d met, Kane doubted she would.

He got in the car and backed out of the driveway, Eli’s silence filling the darkness. Was this what they were destined for? Long silences and stilted conversation.

Kane refused to believe it. God hadn’t brought them this far to leave them floundering. There would be healing. There would be a future filled with all the things they’d missed out on during the past five years. As Kane drove toward the hotel, he tried to take comfort in that.

THREE

Maggie paced the bedroom at the top of the stairs, her stomach churning with dread. She needed to lie down on the inflatable mattress, close her eyes and try to sleep, but sleep didn’t come easily on the best of nights.

And this definitely wasn’t the best of nights.

As a matter of fact, Maggie figured it rated right up there with one of the worst.

No good deed ever goes unpunished.

She could almost hear her grandmother’s raspy, smoker’s voice, could almost see her wrinkled face and time-ravaged body sitting in the dark corner of the room, watching through still-sharp eyes.

“That’s a wonderful image to have in the middle of a storm, in the middle of one of the worst nights of your life,” she muttered, shivering a little as a gust of wind rattled the window and shot through its old frame. It was one of the windows she planned to replace. Maybe she shouldn’t bother.

Maybe she should have a Realtor come and re-hang the “for sale” sign that had caught Maggie’s eye nearly four months ago. Then Maggie could get in her car and drive back through the mountains, back down into the open land that she’d passed through when she’d run from Miami three years ago.

When she’d run from Derrick, the man she’d once believed herself madly in love with.

She was older now, hopefully wiser, and she knew the truth about love. It was fickle, blind and dumb. Pursuing it was a waste of time and energy, and when Maggie left Miami, she’d decided to put her efforts into something more concrete. Education, financial security, creating the kind of life she could be proud of.

And she had.

She was.

With God’s help she’d pulled out of the downward spiral that had nearly killed her. She’d given up the party-hard lifestyle, and she’d finally found a measure of the peace she’d wanted so desperately when she was a young kid.

And now it was slipping through her fingers like mist on a summer morning.

One little boy with sad eyes and a wary demeanor, and Maggie had gotten herself embroiled in the biggest feel-good story of the year.

Feel-good for everyone but her.

If it weren’t so awful, she’d laugh.

She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, trying to ease the tension there. God had reasons for everything. Maggie believed that. Just as she believed that going to Sheriff O’Malley with her suspicions about Eli had been the right thing to do.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Maybe Grandma Jane had been right, but Maggie wouldn’t change what she’d done. Seeing Eli with his father had been one of the best gifts she’d ever received. Sure, it had been difficult to observe the tension between the two, but Maggie had no doubt that Kane would eventually win his son over. The man had determination and patience to spare. She’d seen that in the way he’d stood back and let his son just be. No pressure. No expectations. He was going easy, not demanding anything from his confused little boy.

Maggie couldn’t help but admire that.

Her cell phone rang, its shrill tone making her jump. She grabbed it, her heart beating rapidly as she glanced at the caller ID. It was after midnight, and Edith was calling. That couldn’t be good.

She braced herself as she lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Did I wake you, Maggie? I wasn’t going to call, but it’s just so exciting, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Exciting? What’s exciting?”

“Well, first of all, the fact that Kane Dougherty showed up on my doorstep a few hours ago. You know who he is, right?”

Maggie considered playing dumb but knew Edith wouldn’t fall for it. “He’s the father of the little boy who was missing for five years.”

“Exactly. And he was here looking for you. He said it was imperative that he speak to you. Did he make it out to the house?”

“Yes, he did.” And Maggie had no intention of saying more than that.

“I’m not nosey enough to ask why he wanted to find you, but I’d be tempted to hint broadly that after three years of renting an apartment from me, you could trust me with any tidbit of information you wanted to throw my way.”

Maggie laughed, some of her tension easing away. “Fine. I’ll throw a tidbit your way. Kane’s son is one of the students in my classroom.”

“And?”

Maggie hesitated. She didn’t want to lie, but she wasn’t ready to tell Edith everything. “Eli was feeling unsettled, and Kane thought it would be good for him to see someone familiar.”

“Makes sense. That poor child has been through a lot. Too much.”

“Hopefully, things will be better for him now that he’s back with his father.”

“No doubt they will. I still can’t believe that woman was right under our noses, and we didn’t know it. A kidnapper in our midst.”

“She hasn’t been here long, and I don’t think anyone got to know her. That made it easy for her to hide who she was and what she’d done.”

“I suppose you’re right. They showed a photo of her on the evening news, and I don’t recall ever seeing her in town. Showed a photo of the little boy, too. Guess who was in the picture with him?”

Maggie’s heart stuttered, then started up again. “Who?”

Please, don’t say “you.” Please don’t.

“You!”

She said it, and Maggie’s heart sank, her stomach tying in a knot so tight she could barely breathe let alone speak.

“Maggie? Did you hear me? You’re famous!”

“I heard.”

“Well, you don’t sound very happy about it.”

“I just don’t understand where they got a photo of me, or why they’d put it on the news.”

“It was taken at the harvest party at school. You were supervising some sort of game, and Eli was standing right next to you. I guess the parents of one of his classmates took the photo and sold it for a good price.”

“I guess so.”

“Don’t sound so glum. This is great.”

“It is?”

“I’ve had at least a dozen people call me to ask if it was really you in that picture. You’re headline news here in Deer Park, and that means every eligible guy in the area will want to find out more about you.”

Maggie laughed again, but this time the sound was hollow and empty. “Edith, you never give up, do you?”

“On finding Mr. Right for a good friend? I’m afraid not.”

“For me, there is no Mr. Right.”

“You’re too young to be so cynical. Sometimes a girl has to kiss a lot of frogs before she finds her prince.”

“And sometimes every frog she kisses is a toad,” Maggie responded, only half listening to Edith.

She’d spent the better part of the day planning ways of staying out of the news, had driven out to the farmhouse in the first storm of the season to avoid cameras and reporters, and she’d been undone by a photo snapped at the class harvest party nearly a month ago.

“Okay, so maybe there are a lot of toads, but what if the next one is a prince? What if he’s just waiting for his true love to appear? For all you know, he could sweep you off your feet tomorrow because he saw you in the news today.”

“Edith, you read way too many romance novels.”

“Romance novels? I’ll have you know I lived the greatest romance of all. Can I help it if I want the same for the people I care about?”

“No. And I love you for it, but I’m not looking for Mr. Right, and I never will be.”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t find him. God has His ways, you know.”

Maggie did. She just didn’t understand them. “Right. When was the photo in the news?”

“Eight o’clock is what Margaret said. She called me right afterward to tell me, but I wasn’t sure I could believe her. Her eyes aren’t as good as they used to be.”

“When did you see it?”

“Ten o’clock. I was going to call you right away, but I got so many phone calls, I couldn’t.”

“Was it the local news?”

“Nope. You’re famous countrywide. Probably farther. This story is a big one.”

“That’s for sure,” she muttered, grabbing the few things she’d taken from her duffel and shoving them back inside it. Her first instinct had been right. She needed to leave town, get as far away from Deer Park and its sensational news as she could.

“Are you okay, dear? You sound…agitated.”

For a moment, Maggie considered telling Edith that she was terrified, not agitated, but she didn’t dare drag someone she cared about into her troubles. “I’m fine. I’m just surprised so many people noticed me in the photo.”

“Noticed? You were a showstopper. Let me tell you. All that honey-blond hair hanging around your shoulders and the sweet smile you were giving that poor little boy. You looked breathtaking. There isn’t a man on this planet who wouldn’t want to get to know you, and there isn’t a woman who isn’t going to wish she was you.”

“You’re exaggerating, Edith.”

“I’m not. Though I admit to a certain amount of bias when it comes to you. You’re like one of my children, my dear, and I couldn’t be prouder to know you.”

Maggie’s throat tightened at the words, her eyes filling with tears. If she could have chosen a mother, she would have chosen one like Edith. A woman who had devoted her life to her husband and children rather than to drugs and booze and the next creep with a wallet. “Thank you, Edith. That means a lot to me.”

“Good. Now, let’s stop being sappy and start planning what you’re going to wear Sunday.”

“Sunday?”

“To church, dear. You’ve got to look your best just in case—”

“Mr. Right has somehow magically appeared in town? How about we discuss this another time, Edith? It’s late, and I’m tired.” And she needed to leave, walk away from everything she’d worked so hard for.

“You’re right. It is late, and we both need our beauty sleep. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.” But she wouldn’t because she’d be hundreds of miles away, trying to find a new identity so that she could sink into obscurity again. She hung up the phone, her muscles leaden and tight as she grabbed her duffel and walked out of the room. She’d leave the satchel with the grade book and ungraded papers. Eventually, someone would come looking for her and find it.

The stairs creaked as she hurried down, the old floorboards groaning beneath her feet as she rushed into the kitchen and scrounged through the cupboards. She didn’t have much. Just a package of crackers, a couple of cans of soup and the cookies she’d shared with Eli a few hours ago. She grabbed one and took a bite as she shoved everything else into her duffel. It tasted like dust, and she nearly choked as she tried to swallow it down.

Sugar could cure a lot of ills, but it did nothing to tame the fear that beat a hard, harsh rhythm in Maggie’s chest. Her picture was on national news programs, and Derrick had always been a news fanatic. Wall Street news. Cable news. Network news. He’d watched it incessantly, and Maggie had often been jealous that he hadn’t spent that time with her.

She’d been such a fool, so confused about what real love was, what true caring felt like.

And now she was going to pay the price.

Again.

She frowned, hurrying back down the hall, silently saying goodbye to the house she’d scrimped and saved to purchase, the dream she’d built in her head.

She pulled open the front door, stepping out onto the porch, the cold wind bathing her hot cheeks and drying the tears that burned behind her eyes. Ice had accumulated on the front porch, and the yard and driveway sparkled with it. Tall pine trees bent beneath the howling wind, and ice fell from their heavy boughs, hitting the ground with a hushed shattering that was so beautiful, so achingly perfect that Maggie paused, wanting to take it all in, preserve the memory so that she would never forget what was possible if she put her mind and heart into it.

A sharp crack split the air as something exploded near Maggie’s feet. Wood flew up and out, digging into her shins, flying into her face. She screamed, falling backward.

Another crack. Another explosion.

Pain.

Blood. Dripping down her arm. Dripping onto the rotted wooden floorboards of the porch.

She screamed again, scrambling back as a figure appeared in the darkness beyond the porch. A hundred yards away. Coming fast.

Get up! Get. Up.

The world in slow motion as she turned, fell into the hallway, kicked the door shut. Hands slipping as she turned the lock. Pulled the bolt. Blood smeared on the door.

Go. Go, go, go.

She ran up the stairs, expecting the door to explode behind her. Expecting a bullet to slam into her back, bring her to her knees.

Her cell phone slipped out of her hands as she pulled it from her pocket, and she scooped it up again. She tried desperately to dial 911, her hand trembling too much. Fingers hitting the wrong buttons.

Please, God. Please!

A loud bang had her screaming again, lunging for the bedroom door, slamming it shut, turning the old-fashioned skeleton key as the 9-1-1 operator answered.

Another bang as Maggie shouted her address, shouted that an intruder was in her house.

And then silence, deep and ominous and filled with warning.

“Ma’am? Are you still there? Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Maggie responded, backing away from the bedroom door, her heart thudding a hard, painful beat.

Was he in the house? Creeping up the stairs? Standing outside the door?

“Police are in route. Are you in a safe place?”

“No.”

“Can you get to one?”

“No.”

Was that the loose floorboard on the landing creaking? Was that a whisper of fabric, a sigh of breath?

“Do you have a weapon?”

“No,” she barely managed to whisper, as she glanced around the room, trying to find something she could use to defend herself.

“The police are almost there. Stay on the phone with me, okay? Okay?”

But Maggie couldn’t respond, didn’t dare speak or move or breathe. Someone was outside the door. Someone who tapped softly on the thick wood, wiggled the handle as the sound of sirens drifted into the room.

Maggie backed up, moving toward the window, dizzy with fear, sick with it. Waiting for help to come, for the door to explode. For Derrick to appear. Black eyes and hair and snarling lips. Coming to do exactly what he promised he would when Maggie had walked out of his life.

But she wasn’t the woman she’d been all those years ago. She’d changed. Grown stronger, more determined, and she wasn’t going to wait around for whoever was on the other side of the door to break in and finish what he’d started.

She yanked open the window, eyeing the ground as sirens screamed up her driveway. Voices shouted. A gunshot split the air.

And then there was silence filled with nothing but wind and ice and the terrible beat of Maggie’s heart.

FOUR

Kane hovered in the doorway of the hotel suite’s only bedroom, watching as Eli climbed into bed. He wanted to cross the threshold and tuck his son in as he had so many times when Eli was little, but the dark look Eli shot in his direction froze him in place.

Give him time.

It was what Kane’s mother and father had said. What his sister had said. What the experts had said. It wasn’t what Kane’s heart said. It said fix everything now. Swoop in and take control like he’d done when he’d worked as an attorney. But reconnecting with Eli was going to be a lot more difficult than bringing a case to trial had ever been.

At least he’d finally gotten the kid to bathe and get ready for bed. That had been a battle Kane hadn’t expected to fight with a child Eli’s age. Only seeing the panic in Eli’s eyes when sleep had been mentioned had kept Kane from insisting that his son go to bed at a reasonable time.

Now, at nearly one in the morning, Eli’s excitement and adrenaline seemed to have worn off, and his pale face and the dark circles beneath his eyes hinted at an exhaustion that went far beyond simple lack of sleep.

“Do you want a drink of water?” Kane asked, the question as lame and useless as he felt.

“No. Thank you.” Eli turned onto his side so that his back was to Kane, his red hair just showing over the blanket he’d pulled up around his shoulders.

That was Kane’s cue to walk away. He knew it but couldn’t quite get his feet to move.

“What time does Mom and Dad’s plane arrive tomorrow?” his sister Jenna asked, and Kane forced himself to turn away from his son and face her.

The look of sympathy on her face let him know just how pitiful he looked—a father who couldn’t even offer his son a kiss goodnight. “Ten.”

“Do they want me to pick them up at the airport?”

“No, they’re renting a car.” Kane moved across the room, grabbing the cup of coffee he’d left on a corner table. It was cold and bitter, but he downed it anyway, his throat parched from too many emotions and the strain of holding them in.

“Keep drinking coffee and you’ll never get to sleep.” Jenna rose from the couch, stretched to her full five-foot height. Short red hair spiked around a pale, pretty face. She looked exhausted.

“I’m too hyped up to sleep.”

“Maybe so, but we’ve been up since yesterday morning. It’s time to crash. Tomorrow is another day, after all, and I’m sure we’ll have plenty that needs doing.” She ran a hand over her hair and smiled. Of Kane’s three sisters, Jenna was the only one still single and childless, and she’d been quick to volunteer to hop on a plane and fly to Spokane, Washington, with him. It had been Jenna who’d booked a hotel room. Jenna who’d thought to rent the SUV. Jenna who had been the calm in the storm of Kane’s emotions, but two years fighting leukemia had taken a lot out of her, and it showed in her hollow cheeks and dark-rimmed eyes.

He crossed the room and pulled her into a gentle hug. She’d always been athletic and strong, a gymnast who’d pushed her body to the limit and who’d attended college on a full athletic scholarship. Now she was frail, her body too thin and delicate. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She returned the hug and stepped back, looking up into his eyes.

“For not thinking about how difficult this trip would be on you.”

“On me? What about you? You’re the one who’s just found his son again.” She frowned, and Kane knew she would never admit that the cancer had robbed her of her strength, never admit that was the reason she was tired. She was strong, tough and independent, and the last thing she would ever accept was pity.

“True, but I’m still hopped up on adrenaline, and there’s no way I can sleep. You take the other double bed in the bedroom. I’ll take the pull-out in here.”

“I’m sure you want to be in the room with Eli,” she responded, crossing to the small refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water.

True, but he wasn’t sure his son wanted him there.

He didn’t say that, just poured more coffee from a half-full pot and shook his head. “I’ll only be a few yards away from him, and you can get some sleep while I do some work. I’ve got a half-dozen clients I left hanging when I flew out of New York, and I need to let them know their cases are still being handled.”

“All right, but if you want to boot me out of bed later, just wake me up.” She smiled wanly, and for the first time since they’d gotten on the plane the previous day, Kane really looked at his sister. Her skin wasn’t just pale, it was parchment white, her freckles standing out in stark contrast. Her clothes hung off her narrow frame.

“Are you okay, Jen?”

“Besides being exhausted? Yes.”

“I mean really okay.”

“You mean is the cancer back. I went to the doctor two weeks ago for a three-month check, and my numbers all look great, so stop worrying.”

“Did the doctor say anything else besides that your numbers look good?”

“No, and even if he had, now wouldn’t be the time to discuss it. You have your son back, Kane. You’ve got what you’ve been dreaming of for years. That’s all you should be thinking about.”

“I have what I’ve been dreaming of, but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you. So, what, exactly, did the doctor say?”

“Nothing except come back in three months. Just like every checkup. Now, stop worrying.”

A sharp knock at the door stopped Kane from asking more questions. He frowned, crossing the room quickly and peering out the peephole. Up until now, the press had been respectful, waiting outside the hotel and asking questions when he emerged or calling to see if he’d be willing to give an interview, but he didn’t expect that to last forever. “Yes?”

“Mr. Dougherty, it’s Deputy Rick Lesnever, Spokane County Sheriff’s department.”

“Do you have ID?” Kane asked, opening the door and nodding as the deputy flashed his badge. “It’s a little late for a visit isn’t it, Deputy?”

“We’ve had an incident, and the sheriff wanted me to come ask you a few questions.” The deputy was young, maybe mid-twenties, and he looked nervous, his gaze jumping from Kane to Jenna and back again.

“Incident?” Kane asked, stepping aside and letting the man in.

“Maggie Tennyson said you were out at her place a little after nine tonight.”

“That’s right.”

“She was attacked a couple hours later.”

“Attacked by whom?” Kane asked, his mind racing back to the moment he’d met Maggie. She’d been nervous, edgy and scared, but he’d chalked that up to being approached by a stranger on a dark, deserted road. What he hadn’t been able to explain was her need to stay anonymous, her obvious concern that someone would know Kane and Eli had been to visit her.

He’d wondered what she was hiding, but he hadn’t pushed for answers.

He should have.

“We don’t know. We’re hoping that you might be able to help shed some light on that.”

“You don’t think my brother had something to do with it?!” Jenna exclaimed, her eyes flashing with irritation.

“Mr. Dougherty isn’t a suspect, but we’re hoping that he may have seen something—”

“What’s going on? Is Ms. Tennyson okay?” Eli peered out of the bedroom, his hair mussed. Barely four feet tall and probably less than fifty pounds, Eli looked younger than nine, but his eyes were old and filled with anxiety.

“She should be fine,” the deputy responded, smiling kindly at Eli. “We just wanted to ask your father a few questions.”

“But you said she was attacked. That means someone hurt her.” Eli stepped out of the room, his pajamas hanging loosely on his thin frame.

“Maybe you and the deputy should discuss this somewhere else,” Jenna suggested, shooting a look in Eli’s direction.

She was right, of course. Discussing what had happened to Eli’s favorite teacher while he was listening wasn’t a good idea, but leaving Eli seemed like an even worse one to Kane.

He knew it was irrational, knew that Eli would be fine with Jenna for however long it took to answer Deputy Lesnever’s questions, but knowing it in his head and believing it with his heart were two different things. “Why don’t you go back in the bedroom, Eli? I’ll come in after the deputy and I are done talking and let you know what’s going on.”

“She’s not okay. If she was okay, you wouldn’t make me go away while you talk.”

“Of course she’s okay. Deputy Lesnever wouldn’t lie, would you, Deputy?” Jenna said, moving close to Eli and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“No, I wouldn’t. She’s fine. The doctors are keeping her in the hospital overnight for observation, but she’ll probably be going home tomorrow.”

“She’s in the hospital? But you said she was all right!” Eli’s voice rose an octave, and he shrugged away from Jenna’s arm.

“She is, but—”

“I really think you should discuss this somewhere else,” Jenna said again, and this time Kane knew he had to listen. Eli had been through enough. He didn’t need to hear details about what had happened to Maggie.

“How about we step out in the hall?”

“I’d rather not stand in a public area. We can discuss things in my patrol car.”

Kane hesitated, then nodded. He couldn’t be near Eli 24/7 no matter how much he wanted to. Normalcy had to be established. Routine. If Kane hovered, he might do more damage to his already-damaged child.

“Will you go see Ms. Tennyson?” Eli asked.

“I don’t think—”

“Please, Daddy. I just want to know for sure that she’s all right.” Daddy?

The word brought Kane back five years to the morning of Eli’s disappearance. He’d kissed his son goodbye before heading to the office, smiling when his son shouted, “I love you, Daddy!” as Kane closed the apartment door and left him with the nanny.

He hadn’t heard the word again until now, and hearing it filled him with a bittersweet mixture of joy and sorrow.

“I can’t leave you here alone, Eli.”

“He won’t be alone, Kane. I’m here, and I promise this is where we’ll both stay. No going anywhere except to bed. Right, Eli?” Jenna offered, and Eli nodded his agreement. Kane hesitated, his thoughts going back to the old farmhouse and the woman who owned it. Maggie Tennyson had done what no one else had dared. She’d listened to Eli, dug for answer and found them. Now she was in the hospital, and Kane knew he couldn’t ignore the fact any more than he could ignore his son’s impassioned plea.

“Okay. I’ll go, but you have to mind your aunt while I’m gone. No wandering around outside. Okay?”

Eli nodded, his desire to communicate with Kane gone now that he’d achieved his goal.

Had he spent the past five years as silently as he’d spent the past day? Or had he formed a connection with his kidnapper, spent afternoons after school chatting and weekends hanging out and discussing plans for the new week?

Wondering how Eli had spent the past five years would torture Kane if he let it. He couldn’t let it. He stepped over and hugged Eli, his heart aching as Eli stiffened in his arms. “Goodnight, buddy. I love you.”

Eli didn’t respond, just turned and walked back into the bedroom.

Kane bit back a sigh, and met Jenna’s eyes. “I won’t be long.”

“Take your time. We’ll be fine while you’re gone.”

“Thanks. Get some sleep. Okay.” He dropped a kiss on Jenna’s cheek and followed the deputy out into the hall.

“Sorry to drag you away from your son like this, Mr. Dougherty.”

“Call me Kane, and don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help with the investigation any way I can, though I’m not sure there’s much I can tell you.”

“Whatever you remember from when you were out at the house will be just fine.”

They walked out into the icy storm, crossed the parking lot to the deputy’s cruiser and climbed in. If there were reporters hanging around, Kane didn’t see any, but, then, even the most diehard reporters were probably tucked away in their hotel rooms sleeping at this hour of the morning.

Kane waited impatiently as the deputy pulled out a notebook and tried two different pens before finally finding one that worked. “Okay, I’m set. Did you see anything or anyone while you were at Maggie’s place?”

“Just the tow truck driver.”

“Tow truck driver?”

“He was dropping off Maggie’s car. It had slid off the road and into a ditch.”

“Did you get the name of the driver?”

“Maggie mentioned the name Adam, but I’m not sure that was him.”

“Was he still there when you left?”

“No, and he never even spoke to Maggie. Just left the car and took off.”

“And you saw no one else?”

“No. There wasn’t a car on the road on my way back here. It’s not a good night to be out.”

“It isn’t, but that didn’t stop you and someone else from getting to Maggie’s place.”

“You said she was attacked. What happened?”

“She was shot.”

“Shot?” It wasn’t an attack then. It was an attempted murder. Imagining Maggie lying in her house wounded and scared, made him want to find the shooter and teach him a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget.

“Yeah. She was lucky, though. The bullet went through the fleshy part of her shoulder, and the doc says she’ll make a full recovery.”

“Did she see the guy who did it?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Does she have any idea who it might be?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.” Which meant Maggie had an idea, but the deputy didn’t plan to share it.

That was fine. Kane was more than willing to ask Maggie the same question.

“Which hospital was she taken to?”

“Spokane Valley. It’s a thirty-minute drive, though, so you may want to wait until tomorrow to visit her.”

“I told Eli I’d check on her, and that’s what I plan to do.”

“Why don’t I escort you over there then? I’m heading in that direction anyway.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

“If you think of anything else, give the sheriff’s office a call.”

“I will.” Kane got out of the cruiser and hurried to his rental, his mind spinning with possibilities. Maggie had seemed nervous and scared when they’d met. That, combined with the deputy’s refusal to answer Kane’s question about whether or not she’d had any idea who’d shot her, indicated that there was something more going on than a random attack.

Had the attack happened because of what she’d done for Kane and Eli?

She’d made it very clear she didn’t want her picture in the news, and it had been. Kane had seen her in a photo that had flashed across the television screen while Eli was getting ready for bed.

Had that been what led to the attack?

Kane didn’t know, but he planned to find out. Maggie might not want his help, but he owed it to her, and he’d do whatever it took to make sure she stayed safe.

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