Trumped Up Charges. Joanna Wayne

the door, ready to slam it in his face.

      “Hadley.”

      The sound of her name on his lips reached deep inside her, striking chords she didn’t want to acknowledge.

      He opened his arms and her traitorous, angst-stricken body fell into the only port in this terrifying storm.

      * * *

      HADLEY’S HOT TEARS fell on Adam’s neck and rolled beneath the collar of his shirt. His reaction hit hard and fast, his senses reeling from the fragrance of her hair, the softness of her skin.

      Damn. How could he think of that now? He was here to help. Start getting caught up in the good, the bad and the ugly of the past and that would be impossible.

      A man about his age in navy blue slacks and a white sports shirt stepped into view behind Hadley. The girls’ father, no doubt, the man who’d swept Hadley off her feet and helped her move on in record time.

      The one whose neck should be catching her tears.

      Adam disentangled himself from Hadley quickly and extended a hand to the man.

      “Adam Dalton. Hadley and I go way back. I heard about the abduction and came to see if I could do anything to help.”

      “This is Detective Shelton Lane,” Hadley said.

      So he wasn’t the husband. Still his handshake was far from friendly and his gaze and stance were clearly meant to be intimidating. Adam wasn’t fazed. It was hard to bully a former marine.

      “How did you hear about the abduction?” Lane asked.

      “It made the news.”

      “No names were given in the AMBER release.”

      “Police leak,” Adam quipped honestly. “You know how fast those travel.”

      The detective scowled.

      “I’m not here to interfere in the search,” Adam assured him. “I’m just here to offer my support. Do you have a problem with that?”

      “I don’t, but it’s not my house.”

      Adam turned back to Hadley. “I’d like to help if I can, but say the word and I’m out of here.”

      “You’re here. You may as well stay. Maybe you can come up with something we haven’t.”

      He doubted it. He knew about raiding terrorist hideouts and sneaking past enemy lines on craggy mountainsides. He knew nothing of tracking down a kidnapper of innocent children.

      But then he did have a reputation for being a whiz at eking out danger.

      Hadley led them to a small sitting room off the foyer.

      “I’ll make some coffee,” she said.

      The detective brushed her offer aside. “Can that wait? I only have a few more questions.”

      “What good does it do to keep going over and over the same information? There’s nothing more I can tell you. If I had any idea who took Lacy and Lila, I’d have screamed his name the second you walked in or gone after the monster myself.”

      Lane spread his hands in front of him, palms up. “I understand your frustration, Ms. O’Sullivan. But try to bear with me a few more minutes.”

      The detective had referred to her by her maiden name. Odd, since she was married. But then the detective’s focus was surely on more important matters than getting her name straight.

      “Any problem with my listening in?” Adam asked.

      “That’s up to Ms. O’Sullivan.”

      “Stay,” Hadley said. “Then you won’t have to ask the same questions when the detective leaves.” She dropped into an upholstered chair by the window and took a tissue from the box on the table.

      The detective took a chair near Hadley’s. That left the sofa for Adam. Before they could get started, the detective’s phone rang.

      “I need to take this in private,” he said, “but I’ll only be a minute.” He hurried out of the room.

      “I hate to ask, but can you bring me up to speed?” Adam asked. “Just the basics for now.”

      “All I know are the basics.” The terror was not only etched in her eyes but echoed in every syllable.

      “The twins and I stayed here alone last night because Mother had to check in the hospital yesterday afternoon. She’s in surgery now, having a malignant tumor removed from her stomach. When I woke up this morning, the girls weren’t in their bedrooms. We searched the house frantically, calling for them, but they weren’t here.”

      “You said we,” Adam noted. “Who was with you?”

      “Matilda Bastion, Mother’s housekeeper. She got here just after I realized the girls weren’t in their room. Someone broke into the house and carried them off, Adam. I should have heard them. I should have saved....” She choked on the self-incrimination, swallowing the end of her lament.

      “Except, technically there’s no sign of a break-in,” Lane said as he reentered the room.

      “What exactly does that mean?” Adam questioned.

      “According to Ms. O’Sullivan, the doors and windows were still locked this morning. The alarm system wasn’t set, and it didn’t go off during the night.”

      “I don’t remember setting it last night,” Hadley said. “I had so much on my mind.”

      “But the abductor would have expected it to go off, unless he had the code to disarm it before it did.”

      “Or the technical ability to disarm it from the outside,” Adam said.

      “That’s possible,” Lane admitted. “But the evidence still suggests that whoever took Lacy and Lila either had a key or was let in and out by someone on the inside.”

      “No one let him in,” Hadley said. “I was the only one here.”

      “Which leaves us with an abductor with a key to the house.”

      That added a multitude of new layers of complexity to the situation, Adam decided. On the positive side, it narrowed the field of suspects. They just had to figure out who had a key to the house and the means, opportunity, motive and perhaps a rap sheet.

      Other than the arrest records, the information would have to come from Janice O’Sullivan. He was certain Hadley would hate dragging her mother into this so soon after surgery, but she’d have no other options—unless they found the girls first.

      Adam listened as the detective went back to his questions for Hadley. Most dealt with her search for the girls and anything unusual she or Matilda had noticed. A few dealt with Hadley’s personal relationships and whether anyone had stalked or threatened her.

      There was no mention of Hadley’s husband. His whereabouts and their relationship had likely been covered before Adam arrived on the scene.

      This time it was a call on Hadley’s cell phone that interrupted the conversation. She yanked it from her pocket and checked the caller ID. Disappointment furrowed deep grooves into her forehead. Clearly this was not the kidnapper.

      “It’s Matilda, calling from the hospital,” she said.

      “Answer it,” the detective said, “but don’t stay on the line long. We don’t want to miss a call from the kidnapper.”

      Hadley talked for only a few seconds, but Adam could tell from her side of the conversation that the call wasn’t good news. He didn’t get a chance to ask before she lit into the detective.

      “Matilda was in tears,” Hadley said. “A cop just left there and he treated her as if she was involved in the girls’ disappearance.”

      “I’m sure he didn’t accuse