Threat of Darkness(47)
“Okay,” John said, deciding they both needed to continue to be proactive, “here’s what we’ll do. We’ll start in this room, since it’s the site of the last contact, and go through everything. I want you to open the cupboards and look behind every pot and pan, every dish. Don’t skip a thing.”
“What if there’s nothing here?”
“Then we’ll move on to another room and then another, until we either run out of places to look or find something helpful.”
Her voice was subdued and held a touch of melancholy when she simply said, “Thank you.”
He had been about to reassure her by reminding her he was doing his duty when she looked straight at him to add, “And I promise you, John Waltham, if you dare tell me one more time that it’s just your job, I will scream.”
It wasn’t only the defiant look in her eyes and the hands fisted on her hips that impressed him. It was also the challenge in her statement. Evidently, Sam was no longer buying his excuse that he was merely carrying out orders.
Truth to tell, sticking by her meant a lot more than that to him, too. A whole lot more.
* * *
Samantha was so frustrated, so weary, she almost asked John to take a break with her when they’d finished searching every nook and cranny in the kitchen.
Sighing, she straightened, empty-handed, and shook her head sadly. “There’s nothing here. We’ve been over the whole room and…” Her gaze drifted past his shoulder and settled on a hook by the door where she kept Brutus’s leash. It was still hanging there, just as she’d left it. Her eyes widened as she began to truly observe. “The dog’s collar! Look.”
John whirled. “Was he wearing it when you last saw him?”
“Yes. I always keep it on him unless I’m giving him a bath.” Pushing past her companion she grabbed the braided nylon and jerked it down. There was a piece of white paper, folded and taped to the rabies vaccination tag.
Her hands were shaking so badly she passed the collar to John. “Here. You look. I can’t.”
“Not without putting on gloves first. Stay right here. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Samantha doubted she could have taken a step if she’d wanted to. Her feet felt glued to the floor and her knees were once again threatening to give way and drop her in a useless heap.
The moment John returned from the trailer he slipped his hands into the thin gloves.
She thrust the collar at him. “Hurry.”
“I am.”
Watching him, knowing him so well, she could tell he was nearly as nervous as she was. Being a professional he was handling the anxiety better, of course, but it still showed. The look on his face when he unfolded the piece of paper held a mixture of anger and sorrow.
She grasped his wrist above the glove. “What is it? What did they say?”
“That you have until this coming Sunday night to comply with their demands.”
“Or?”
His arm encircled her, supported her, and he pulled her to his side before he said, “Or they’ll kill Brutus.”
Unshed tears wet her lashes. “That’s not fair. I can’t even fake it if I don’t know what this package is supposed to look like.”
John laid the collar aside and closed her in his embrace.
At this moment in time she was beyond refusing to accept the support and consolation he offered. Brutus was going to die. And it was her fault.
She heard the rapid beats of John’s heart. Her own echoed them as if they had somehow been synchronized. Latex snapped as he shed his gloves before stroking her hair and whispering comforting words.
“Hush. There has to be a way.”
“What? What?”
“I don’t know. When Bobby Joe was arrested he had nothing in his pockets except a dollar bill and some loose change. How could he have disposed of drugs unless he gave them to someone? The little boy was clean, too.”
Samantha’s head was whirling. She’d replayed the scene in the E.R. over and over in her mind, hoping to somehow see more than she had before.
She leaned away to look up at him. “There are only three possibilities. The hospital staff, your police buddies or the air ambulance that took Jess to Children’s.”
“The ambulance crew is out,” John said. “Bobby Joe never got near it. Unless…” He planted a firm kiss in the middle of her forehead and grinned. “You’re a genius.”
“Why? What did I do?”
“Remember the stuff you were packing up to send with the little boy when I was talking to you at the hospital that first day? Did you go through it carefully or were you in too big a hurry to bother?”