Her Mistletoe Protector(9)

Right now, she didn't care about anything except getting her son back safe and sound.

As the minutes passed slowly, she stared out through the car window at the stars scattered across the night sky. And suddenly, she found herself uttering a simple prayer to a God she wasn't even sure existed.

Please keep my son safe.





FIVE

Rachel must have dozed in spite of herself, because, when she opened her eyes, dawn was breaking over the horizon and she didn't recognize the area. She assumed Nick had driven somewhere else at some point in the middle of the night. It took a moment for her to realize the beeping noise that woke her up came from a phone. She scrambled around, searching for her phone as Nick twisted in the driver's seat to look at back at her.

"Another text message?" he asked.

She pushed the button on her old phone and her heart leaped into her throat at the message that bloomed on the screen.





Ten million dollars will buy your son's freedom. Details on the exchange to follow. Remember, no police or your son will pay the price.





She tore her gaze from the message and held up the phone to show Nick. "It's the ransom demand," she said in a choked voice. She wasn't sure if she should be relieved or worried that the message had come so early in the morning.

She stared at the phone, wanting desperately to believe that some sort of contact from the kidnappers was better than nothing.

"Text them back that you need proof that Joey is still alive," Nick ordered, starting the car and driving out of the parking lot. "Tell them you want to talk to your son."

She hesitated, afraid that if she made the kidnappers mad they might hurt Joey.

"Rachel, you have to know Joey is alive, or there's no point in agreeing to the demand."

Although she hated to admit it, she knew he was right. She took a deep breath and texted back, No money until I speak to my son.

The moment she pressed Send, she wanted to call the message back. She stared at her old phone for several long moments, hoping the kidnapper would respond. With every minute that ticked by, raw fear rose in the back of her throat, suffocating her.

"What if they don't let me talk to him?" she asked, unable to hide the quiver in her voice. "What if they hurt him, instead?"

"You have to insist on it," Nick said, a hard edge of steel lining his tone. "Please trust me on this, Rachel."

"I do, it's just that I don't care about the money," she whispered in agony. "I just want them to give me Joey."                       
       
           



       

"I know that, and believe me, they know that, too. They're playing on your fear, Rachel. They're doing this to keep you off balance. You have to be strong. For Joey."

She nodded, but the vise grip around her heart wouldn't loosen. She wanted to talk to Joey. Desperately needed to hear his voice.

Please, God, please keep Joey safe.

Just when she was about to give up all hope, her old phone rang, from another blocked number. She pushed the button and lifted the device to her ear. "Hello? Joey?"

"Mommy? Are you there?"

Hearing her son's voice made her eyes well up with tears. "Yes, Joey, I'm here. Are you okay? They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"No, but I'm scared," Joey said, and she could tell he was crying, too.

"Ask him something that only he knows," Nick whispered from the front seat. Belatedly, she realized he'd pulled off to the side of the road. "To prove it's him and not some other kid playing the part."

She nodded, indicating she'd heard him. "Joey, sweetheart, listen to me. Everything's going to be okay. But I need you to tell me who your favorite basketball player is. Can you do that for me?"

"K-Kirk Hinrich."

Yes! The starting point guard for the Chicago Bulls was Joey's favorite player. "That's good, Joey. I love you. I'm going to get you out of there soon, okay?"

"That's enough." A mechanically distorted voice broke into her conversation with her son. "We will give you details about the exchange soon."

"Wait!" she shouted, but nothing but silence was on the other end. She stabbed the button on her phone to call the blocked number back, but all she heard was a weird click then nothing. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to scream in frustration. But nothing could stop her tears.

"Don't cry, Rachel," Nick said in a low, soothing voice. "We're better off now than we were a few minutes ago. At least we know Joey's alive and that they're going to set up the exchange."

Nick was right, but she couldn't seem to stem the flowing tears. Just hearing Joey's voice made her furious with the kidnappers all over again. Her son was alone and afraid. "We have to find him," she sobbed.

He reached over the back of the seat to gently squeeze her shoulder. "We will. Remember God is watching over him, too."

Despite how she'd already prayed twice for her son's safety, Nick's words were far from reassuring. Because suddenly she couldn't understand why, if there really was a God, He would put an innocent nine-year-old boy in this kind of danger.

"I don't believe that," she said abruptly, pulling away from his reassuring touch. She used the bottom of her sweatshirt to mop her face. "I don't trust a God who allows my son to be in danger. And I can't understand how you could believe that, either."

Nick stared at her for a long minute, his gaze shadowed by a deep sorrow, before he wordlessly turned away and began driving again.

She ducked her head, swiping away the moisture from her cheeks. She shouldn't feel guilty for hurting him, but she did. Yet, at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to apologize, either.

Right now, nothing mattered except Joey. That was how she'd lived her life since leaving Anthony. A woman on a mission to provide a normal life for her son, keeping him safe from harm.

This wasn't the time to allow herself to get distracted. By Nick or by the God he believed in.

* * *

Nick drove to the truck stop he'd passed earlier, so they could use the restrooms and get something to eat. He tried not to be hurt by Rachel's anger as he understood, better than most, what she was going through. He'd been angry with God, too, at first when he'd discovered his wife and child had died. Anger was a normal part of the grief process, but that didn't mean he was giving up on her.

He'd continue praying for both Joey and Rachel.

Besides, she needed to cling to the knowledge of her son being safe and sound. There was still hope that they could figure out a way to get him back.

Rachel didn't say anything when he pulled into the truck stop parking lot, bringing the car to a halt between a pair of twin semitrailers. He climbed out of the driver's seat and then glanced back at her. "I thought we'd clean up in the restrooms first. I'll meet you in the diner in about fifteen minutes or so, okay?"                       
       
           



       

She nodded and pushed her way out of the car to join him. Wordlessly, they walked inside together before splitting up.

His stomach growled and the scent of bacon and eggs caused him to hurry. He scrubbed his hands over his rough stubble, wishing he had a razor. When he finished up in the restroom, he slid into a booth next to the door and perused the menu while he waited for Rachel.

She joined him a few minutes later and he didn't waste any time in placing their orders. Once they were alone with their coffee, he leaned forward and said firmly, "We need to figure out what to do from here, Rachel. Ten million is a lot of money."

"I know." She stared at her coffee, her hands huddled around it for warmth, but she didn't drink any.

"I know you're the CEO and president of your company, but are you really going to be able to get that much together?"

Slowly, she shook her head. "The economy has been tough, and we've had a large class-action lawsuit that has eaten away a significant portion of our profits."

Lawsuit? How come she hadn't mentioned this earlier? "What was the lawsuit about?"

She grimaced before answering. "We put a new diabetes medication on the market about two years ago. In clinical trials it was superior in performance to the medication that almost two-thirds of the diabetes patients are currently taking." She hesitated for a moment. "But something went wrong, and several people suffered very bad side effects and two patients died. The FDA mandated that we pull the drug off the market, and the lawsuit was filed shortly thereafter."

He stared at her in shock, mentally kicking himself for not investigating this angle earlier. "Rachel, isn't it possible that Joey's disappearance could be linked to this lawsuit rather than the Mafia?"

She sighed and lifted her gaze to his. "I don't see how the lawsuit could be related. I authorized a large settlement for those patients and their families. They deserve to be compensated for our mistake. What reason would they have to come after me now?" She gripped the mug tighter in her hands. "Besides, does it really matter who took Joey? All we need to do is to figure out a way to get him back."