New Year Heroes: The Sheriff's Secretary / Veiled Intentions / Juror No. 7. Delores Fossen

where his legal pad awaited him at the table. One thing he and Mariah hadn’t discussed the day before when they’d been going over things was the fact that the kidnapper could be almost anyone.

      Just because they had Phillip Ribideaux and Remy Troulous in their sights didn’t mean either man was responsible. Just because she thought this was something her ex-husband might be capable of didn’t mean Frank Landers was responsible.

      Who knew what acquaintances Jenny had who might want to do this? Who knew what neighbor or friend might harbor some sick twist in their mind that might have led to this?

      The phone rang and Lucas snatched up the receiver, his heart pounding as it had every time the phone rang. “Hello?”

      “Hi, this is Miranda Thomas with Channel Four news. I was wondering if I could speak with Mariah?”

      His heart slowed once again. “She isn’t taking calls.”

      “Who am I speaking to?” she asked.

      “A ‘no comment’ kind of guy,” he replied, and hung up the receiver.

      The calls from the press had been constant, as had the calls from Richard Welch wanting updates. There had still been a few other phone messages, also—well-meaning people who wanted to know what they could do, how they could help. But so far the call Lucas most wanted hadn’t come.

      This time there would be no taped monologue. This time there was going to be a dialogue and maybe, just maybe, in having that dialogue Lucas could figure out what about that voice sounded so familiar.

      The doorbell rang and he hurried out of the kitchen to the front door. He met Mariah coming down the hallway. She cast him a tired smile as he peeked out the door and took a step back in surprise.

      “It’s Remy Troulous,” he said to her as he opened the door. What was he doing here?

      Mariah stepped in front of Lucas. “Mr. Troulous, please come in,” she said as if he were an expected, welcome friend.

      Remy looked distinctly uncomfortable as he stepped through the door and into the small entry. “Please, come in and sit,” Mariah said, and gestured him into the living room. “Would you like something to drink?”

      “No, I’m good,” he replied.

      Lucas frowned at the young man. “What are you doing here, Remy?”

      “I didn’t want to talk to you at the office. My business is nobody’s business, and I didn’t want anyone to hear what I’m going to tell you.” Remy’s eyes gleamed with a hard edge, and he lifted his chin defensively.

      “Do you know where my son is? Where Jenny is?” Mariah asked, her voice filled with urgency as she stepped closer to him.

      “No.” His gaze softened slightly as he looked at Mariah. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t know anything about what happened to them.” He looked back at Lucas. “You and I have butted heads a lot of times in the past, but even you should know this isn’t my style. I don’t mess with kids.”

      “So, what do you have to tell us?” Lucas asked.

      “It’s about me and Jenny.”

      “What about you and Jenny?” Lucas tried to hang on to his emotions.

      “We were sort of seeing each other, but it’s not what you think.” Again Remy’s chin lifted. “It wasn’t anything romantic or nothing like that.”

      “Then what was it?” Lucas couldn’t imagine what this man and his sister would have in common, why they would be seeing each other at all.

      Remy shoved his hands into his pockets and gazed first at Lucas, then at Mariah, then back to Lucas. “Look, this is something I don’t want anyone else to know. That’s why I came here instead of telling you yesterday. You had that other dude in the room and I wasn’t going to talk about it.”

      “Talk about what?” Lucas asked with more than a touch of impatience.

      “Jenny was teaching me to read, okay? I know I can’t be a gangbanger forever. I want something better, okay? But I can’t do nothing about my life unless I learn how to read.”

      He eyed them belligerently, as if expecting them to mock or belittle his efforts. “Anyway, that’s why I was meeting with her. I just thought you should know so you’ll get off my back ‘cause I had nothing to do with her being missing.” He backed toward the door. “Sorry I can’t help. I liked Jenny a lot and she was nice to me even though she didn’t have to be.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “This is my cell phone number. If I can do anything to help find her, give me a call.”

      Lucas could feel Mariah’s disappointment, as rich and deep as his own. He took the piece of paper from Remy but wasn’t finished with his questions. “How did you arrange this with my sister?”

      Remy shrugged his narrow shoulders. “I was in the library and looking at books on reading. Jenny was in there, too, and she saw the books I was looking at. We started talking and she offered to help me. I trusted her. I knew she wouldn’t tell nobody, so we met a couple of times here during the day.”

      “And you haven’t heard anything on the streets about her disappearance?” Lucas asked.

      Remy shook his head. “Nothing. Whoever took them, he ain’t talking to nobody. Look, Jenny was helping me. I wouldn’t have repaid her by doing something like this. I just wanted you to know.” Without another word, Remy shot out of the front door.

      Mariah closed the door after him and turned to face Lucas. “Do you believe him?”

      “I have absolutely no reason to believe anything that falls out of that man’s mouth, but yeah, I believe him.”

      She nodded. “So do I. It’s just the kind of thing Jenny would do. I told you she would have made a great teacher.”

      A stab of guilt gored him. He’d been so busy worrying about the kind of woman Jenny might be that he hadn’t taken the time to see what kind of woman she had become.

      He sighed. “So, if we believe Remy, then he comes off our list of suspects.”

      “And since Phillip Ribideaux has done nothing suspicious in the past couple of days and we don’t know where Frank is, that leaves us with nothing.”

      Lucas opened his mouth to protest her assessment, then closed it. Because she was right.

       Chapter Ten

      It had become a waiting game, and as the afternoon hours crept by, Mariah felt as if she might explode. Why didn’t he call? If she and Lucas walked out the front door, would the kidnapper call then? Leave one of his cryptic messages to lead them on yet another wild-goose chase?

      Lucas had remained for much of the day at the table, alternately talking on his cell phone and staring at her telephone as if willing it to ring.

      Dusk was falling and the panic that night brought with it formed a big, tight lump in her chest. Another night. How many nights could she survive? How long before she lost her mind with grief?

      The house had been so quiet. Until his disappearance, Mariah hadn’t realized how much Billy filled up the house with sound. He often clomped when he walked, he hummed and whistled while he did his chores. And he laughed. God, what she wouldn’t give to hear the sound of his laugher once again.

      When the doorbell rang at seven that evening, Mariah hurried to answer it, grateful for the break from the tension, from the monotony of waiting for the kidnapper to call.

      She opened the door and froze as she saw the man with a sprinkle of gray in his black hair, the narrow dark eyes that had once haunted her dreams.

      “Hello, Mariah. How in the hell did you manage to lose our little boy?”

      “Frank.” Mariah wouldn’t have