“She sounds scared,” Delaney said. “Maybe I?—”
“She’s fine!” Violet turned her head and snapped, “Be quiet!”
Charlotte’s cries cut off.
Delaney had to clamp her lips shut to keep from saying what she thought of that.
Help me, Lord. I don’t know what to do.
“How did you find me?”
She tried to come up with a good answer, then decided to tell the truth. “I never had a chance to tell you this, but my cousin is in the CIA. And my sister is a cyber-investigator. They figured out what kind of car you drove, and then the apartment you rented.”
“How? I didn’t use my real name. Freddie told me—” She cut her words off.
“Frederick Hayes, right?” Violet didn’t answer, so Delaney pressed on. “You should know, Violet. He told the police how you were trying to dig up dirt on Noah and me. About how you wanted to get custody.”
Violet swore under her breath. “I should’ve known. Nobody can be trusted.”
Hadn’t Delaney had the same thought before she’d gotten out of the car? But she’d been wrong. Sure, she’d bought Violet’s lies, and Owen’s. But Noah had been honest with her. He wastrustworthy. Everyone in her family was trustworthy. There were plenty of trustworthy people in the world.
“How did you get here?” Violet asked.
“I have a rental car”—she tipped her head toward where she’d left it—“back there on the road.”
“Who’s with you?”
“Nobody. Noah…ordered me away.” It seemed right to say it like that, as if he’d been cruel. “He told me to get on a flight, but I couldn’t leave until I knew Charlotte was okay. If you’ll just let me see her?—”
“C’mon, we’re leaving.” She flicked the gun like a pointer, and Delaney scrambled to obey. Anything to keep her from squeezing that trigger.
“Move. We’re gonna get my daughter, then you’re driving us out of here.”
Oh, no. What had she done? If she’d stayed in the car, maybe the police would have found Violet. Instead, she was going to be the woman’s escape plan.
Lord, help!
Charlotte’s tiny body trembled against Delaney’s chest as she stumbled through the underbrush, her arms aching from carrying her. The child’s tears soaked through Delaney’s blouse, her sobs muffled against her shoulder.
“Shhh, sweetie,” Delaney whispered, trying to keep her voice steady despite the gun pointed at her back. “It’s going to be okay.”
Except it wasn’t. Nothing about this situation was okay. The sight of Charlotte tied to that tree like an unwanted pet had burned itself into Delaney’s memory—the rope marks on hertiny wrists, the terror in her eyes, the way she’d yelled when she’d spotted her through the trees. “Miss Laney! Help me!”
If only she could.
Violet jabbed the gun against Delaney’s spine. “Keep moving.” The words were a harsh whisper. Then, more softly, “Lottie, baby, it’s okay. Mama’s here.”
Charlotte’s little arms and legs tightened around Delaney’s body.
Delaney bit back the furious words that threatened to spill out. This woman had neglected her daughter, lost custody, and now kidnapped her—only to tie her to a tree. What kind of mother did that?
She focused on her breathing, needing to contain her rage for Charlotte’s sake.
“It’s okay, honey,” she murmured, stroking her tangled curls. “Just breathe with me.” She tried to temper her own breaths, which were coming too fast thanks to the trek through the woods with a child in her arms and the threat of death at her back.
They were almost to Delaney’s rental. When they reached it, they’d climb in and drive away. Just like that. She didn’t want to think about what would happen next. Maybe she’d survive, maybe not. But Charlotte… Poor Charlotte would be stuck with this…this maniac.
Headlights swept across the road ahead.
