It was the furtive look over her shoulder that did it.
Something in that look communicated to Willow and Matt that this woman was keeping a secret. He tried not to jump to conclusions. It could be something reasonably innocuous. Not paying her taxes. Cheating on her husband.
Matt’s smile was all easy charm. “Thanks so much. Do you have kids?”
The woman blanched as though she’d been hit. “A daughter,” she said, the defensive note impossible to miss.
“So you know what pregnancy’s like,” Matt continued, though he squeezed Willow’s hand in a silent communication.
“Oh, honey,” he turned to look at Willow, his blue eyes wary. “Would you mind getting my phone out of my car? I’ve got the address in there. I must have left it after I called Isaac.”
She nodded. His meaning was clear. Whether it turned out to be a false alarm or not, something was going on here. Giving Isaac a heads up wouldn’t hurt.
She sent a smile at the older woman, surprising Matt with how calm she seemed in the tense situation. She moved to the car quickly and pulled his cell from the centre console. She knew Ike’s number by heart and she dialled it with fingers that weren’t quite steady.
It took her only a minute to give him their location and relay what had sparked her interest. Isaac implored her to leave the house, but Willow wasn’t going anywhere without Matt. And Matt… well, she wasn’t sure. She disconnected the call and slipped the phone into her pocket.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to see when she entered the farmhouse. A small part of her had actually been afraid for Matt’s life. She certainly hadn’t banked on him being comfortably ensconced in the kitchen, one ankle crossed over his knee, as he chatted to the woman about corn crops. Spread on the table before him was a creased, old map of the area.
“So you’ve been here a while then?”
“All my life,” she answered, her tone gruff.
A sound from outside the house called their attention.
“My daughter,” the woman responded, but her air of panic was unmistakable.
“How old is she?” Willow asked, surprised that she sounded so calm when her heart was running like a jackhammer.
“Five in September.” Again, the note of defiance was apparent.
Willow didn’t dare look at Matt, but the surety that her instinct was right got greater and greater. Isaac was on his way. All they had to do was keep the woman talking.
Only the woman had other ideas. “I’ve got some place to be,” she snarled out of nowhere, a fine bead of perspiration on her forehead. “You got what you needed?”
Matt stood up, for all the world looking relaxed and at ease. “Yeah. Thanks for your time, ma’am.” He put a hand under Willow’s elbow and squeezed it. “You feeling better, darling?”
She looked up at him, wanting to fight. Wanting to stay. But his look silenced her. She threw a tight smile at their reluctant host, and stepped towards the door. “A few moment’s rest has been perfect. Thanks for letting us intrude.”
She was silent until they were in the car. The curtain twitched, and Matt sent her a look. “I think you’re on to something here, Miss St Clare.”
“Damned right I am.” She looked at the house again, and thought of Annabeth Stott’s young face. “Matt, I’m going back.”
“No, you’re not. Listen, Willow. I’m not going anywhere. Just pretend you’re looking for a radio station. Ike will be here soon.”
“Damn it, she could kill her! Think about what you’d do if it was your child. Or someone you loved.” She pushed the door open and stepped back onto the gravelled path. “The noise came from the back of the house. I need to just check.”
He swore, but opened his own door. “You’re trouble, Willow, d’you know that?”
“So we get a trespassing conviction. It’s worth it.” She jogged around the house, neatly skirting the wire fence. A dog barked ferociously, but Willow didn’t stop. No guard dog was scarier than the crime-laden streets of Chicago.
Behind the farmhouse was a small, ugly looking swimming pool. The water was so dirty it was a pale brown, with a film on top of it. But that didn’t seem to be bothering the child splashing in the middle.
Her hair was fair, like Annabeth’s, but far shorter. Hers was, in fact, cut into a boy style. Willow looked at her, and a frisson of understanding ran the length of her spine. Matt caught up with her, and followed her gaze.
“Annabeth!” He called, and the girl looked sharply towards them.
They both knew.
The back door of the farmhouse flew open and the woman they’d met inside began to hastily run towards the pool.
“Come here, honey, we’re going to take you to your mommy,” Willow said. She looked at Matt, her face terrified, as the older woman’s demeanour became increasingly frantic.
“I’ve got it,” he said sharply. He put a hand on the top of the wire fence, uncaring that it spiked through his skin. Blood dribbled down the wire, onto the dust beneath. He pushed forward unrelentingly.
The older woman had a big shotgun.
Fear tore through Willow as she aimed it at Matt, but still he didn’t stop.
His fearlessness seemed to cause the woman a beat of hesitation, and that was all Matt needed. He lunged for the gun and captured it just as she fired a shot.
Annabeth and Willow screamed in unison. “Annabeth! Come here now,” Willow cried, her eyes glued to Matt.
But he was fine.
He wasn’t hurt. He tossed the gun far enough away that the woman couldn’t reach it, and wrapped her in an unyielding hold, clamping her arms to her side. “Take the child to the car,” he called to Willow, his tone solid like cement.
Willow was shaking all over. As Annabeth reached the fence, Willow put her hands around her slender waist and lifted her. She ran and ran, and didn’t stop until they’d reached the luxury car. She buckled Annabeth into the back seat and then, in anguish, turned towards the house. She had to help Matt.
“Stay here,” she said firmly. But the girl was terrified. With a moan, Willow ran a hand over Annabeth’s cropped hair. “You’re going to be okay, sweetie. The police are coming, and your mommy is waiting for you.” She kissed Annabeth’s hair, and then reached for her handbag. “Drink this. Are you hungry?”
Annabeth, her eyes round like saucers, shook her head.
“I have to go and check on my friend,” Willow said urgently. “But I’m going to lock the doors. I want you to crouch down, and stay out of sight, until I get back. Okay?”
“Okay. Please come back though.” Her sweet voice was hoarse, her eyes wet now with tears.
“I will, darling.” She slammed the door shut and locked the car, then ran back into the house. She cut through the darkened hallway, taking note as she passed blurry photos of a child. She reached the pool, and found that Matt had used an old rope to tie the woman to the porch railing.
He turned to look at Willow, his expression startled.
“Remind me never to doubt you again.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I don’t know how you two did it,” Isaac had tears in his eyes; his handsome face was crumpled with emotion.
“I had nothing to do with it,” Matt said, impatient with the nurse who was bandaging his gashed hand.
“I mean, a beanie and a pink shirt?”
Willow grinned. “I guess plotting all those adventure stories paid off, huh?”
Isaac laughed. “You better believe it. I’ll be surprised if the State doesn’t honour you with an award.”
“Don’t want it,” Willow said seriously. “I’m just so happy that she’s safe. That she’s been found.”
“What about the woman?” Matt asked, pulling his hand back to his side, shooting the nurse a brief look of gratitude.
Isaac looked over his shoulder to make sure none of the hospital staff were near enough to hear him speak. “I haven’t formally interviewed her yet, but I suspect she’ll end up in a hospital rather than prison.”
“Hospital?”
“Yeah. She’s not all there. Upstairs. You know. Her daughter died five years ago. Car accident. She looked a lot like Annabeth. The working theory is that she saw Annabeth and actually thought she’d found her own daughter, Rachel.”
“That’s just so, so tragic,” Willow whispered.
Isaac nodded. “Annabeth’s parents want to meet you two. You okay with that?”
Willow nodded, and followed him into a brightly lit room. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of praise and compliments. By the end of it, she was bone-weary.
There were so many people to speak to; everyone wanted to shake their hands and to comprehend just how they’d found the girl everyone was looking for. But time was ticking, and every moment that passed brought her closer and closer to the inevitability she was dreading.
Matt had said he was leaving.
He was going to go.
And she would be left, without him.
Her life, which had always felt fine and full and interesting, now seemed to loom before her like a barren, cavernous space that she must cross. The prospect of day after day in a world without Matt with her loomed large and cold.
But the inevitability was upon her.
He was leaving. And soon.