FOR THE CHILDREN

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  FOR THE CHILDREN

  Margaret Watson

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  Contents:

  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

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  Chapter 1

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  If the purple dinosaur hadn't stopped singing, Abby Markham would never have heard the glass breaking. Just as the song ended, she caught the muffled tinkling coming from the basement.

  Her hands tightened on the book she was reading, and she automatically looked at her two nieces. The girls hadn't noticed a thing. Two blond heads stared at the television, enthralled by the antics on the popular children's program.

  Abby swallowed once, then dropped the book and went to stand by the closed basement door. Straining to bear over the exuberant shouts of children's voices coming from the television, she wanted to think that it was her imagination. That there was nothing wrong in the basement. But she remembered the man who'd sat in his car outside of her house for so long last night, and the hair rose on the back of her neck.

  She had almost managed to convince herself that the sound had come from somewhere outside the house when a dull thud vibrated up from the basement. Almost, she thought, as if something had fallen onto the floor.

  Or someone had jumped onto the floor from one of the windows.

  Fear twisted inside her as she looked over at her twin nieces. Casey and Maggie had scooted closer to the television, completely mesmerized by the program she'd taped for them to watch. They hadn't even bothered to look over at her when she went to stand by the basement door. Whatever she did, she couldn't alarm them.

  Pressing the button that locked the basement door, she hurried over to the two girls, wrapped one arm around each tiny waist and lifted them into the air. "Are you guys ready for some ice cream?" she whispered.

  Both girls snuggled closer and shouted, "Yes!" Casey leaned back and looked at her, asking, "Why are you whispering, Aunt Abby?"

  "Because that's the only way you'll hear me. Barney's being too loud."

  Maggie giggled. "You're joking me, Aunt Abby. You have to talk loud if you want someone to hear you."

  "You heard me, didn't you?" Abby answered as she nuzzled Maggie's fragrant hair. Tightening her arms around the girls, she started up the stairs to the kitchen of the split-level house. Every step she took made her heart pound faster as the fear expanded in her chest. The simple lock was no protection against someone determined to get in the house. At best it would delay an intruder for a few minutes. She expected to hear the basement door slam open any second.

  When she reached the kitchen she didn't stop, grabbing her purse and keys off the counter and practically running across the floor to the door leading to the garage.

  "Where are we going, Aunt Abby?" Casey asked, her arms tightening around Abby's neck.

  "To get ice cream, remember?" Abby kissed her check quickly and fumbled for the door handle.

  "There's ice cream here." Literal Maggie pointed, then reached for the freezer door.

  "We'll have our choice of flavors." Abby scrabbled desperately to turn the key in the door while balancing both girls in her arms. Nothing in the world could force her to set one of them on the floor. She would hold on to them until they were out of danger, strapped into the car and backing down the driveway.

  The key finally turned the lock with a click, and she threw open the door and ran into the garage. The light from the kitchen was a golden wedge in the darkness, outlining the shape of the car. Wrenching open the car door, she strapped the girls into their car seats with shaking hands and then got into the front seat. Drawing a deep breath, she managed to put the key in the ignition after only two tries. She started the engine at the same time as she pressed the garage-door opener.

  Hands gripping the steering wheel, she waited while the garage door slowly opened. Every second that passed was an eternity as she waited for someone to appear in the light from the kitchen door.

  The garage door was barely halfway open when she shifted into reverse and backed out. The roof of her car skimmed the rising door, and then she was free. Gunning the car engine, she squealed the tires as she hit the street, then squealed them again as she shifted gears and sped out of the quiet, dark subdivision in a suburb of Las Vegas.

  "Why are we going so fast, Aunt Abby?" asked Maggie.

  "We don't want the ice cream to melt before we get there, do we, honey?" Abby forced her mouth into what would have to pass for a cheerful smile as she glanced over her shoulder at the twins in the back seat.

  When they saw her smile, they relaxed and giggled. "You're silly, Aunt Abby," came the chorus from the back seat, and Abby felt some of the tension dissipate.

  Her sister Janna had called five days ago, asking if Abby could watch the twins while she went on a business trip. Janna had been frantic. Her boss had told her that afternoon that they had to go away immediately. They couldn't even wait until the next day. Since Abby didn't teach during the summer, she hadn't hesitated. She had been thrilled to have her nieces stay with her, but almost as soon as her sister left she had realized something was wrong with the twins.

  Normally cheerful and outgoing Casey had been quiet and withdrawn. Maggie, the mare thoughtful twin, had alternated between clinging to Abby and clinging to her sister. And both of the girls had had nightmares. Abby had been so disturbed that she'd tried to contact Janna. Every time she'd called, the hotel could only tell her that Janna wasn't in her room.

  Abby looked in the rearview mirror and listened to the pair chattering about which flavor of ice cream they wanted and felt herself relax a little. It had probably been her imagination that had made her think something was wrong with the girls. Right now they looked like typical five-year-olds.

  But it hadn't been her imagination back at the house. There had been someone in the basement, and she had to call the police. It was only a few mare blocks to the ice-cream store and the public phone that stood outside it.

  Five minutes later, as the girls sat in chairs and slurped their ice cream, she picked up the phone and dialed the police.

  Giving her name and address, she gripped the receiver as she told the police officer what had happened.

  "Are you still in the house?" he asked sharply.

  "No. I'm at the Happy Dairy Ice Cream Store."

  She heard paper shuffling, then a long pause. He cleared his throat and asked, "You called us about someone sitting in a car outside your house last night, didn't you?"

  "Yes. Two officers came out to the house, but the man was gone by the time they arrived."

  He hesitated, then asked, "You told the officers that you had two children in the house last night. Are they still with you?"

  "What does that have to do with anything?" She gripped the phone more tightly, wondering what was going on.

  "I ah, just want to ascertain that everyone is out of the house."

  "Of course we're all out of the house! Do you think I'd run off and leave my nieces?"

  "Of course not, Ms. Markham." He was speaking too quickly. "Ma'am, I want you to stay at the ice-cream store. Someone will meet you there. In the meantime I'll send a patrol car to your house. You just stay where you are."

  "Thank you," Abby said, but the phone was already dead. Hanging it up slowly, she walked into the store and sat down next to Casey. She had to resist the urge to gather both girls into her arms and escape out the door. Something was wrong. The tone of the policeman's voice as he asked her if they were all out of the house vibrated in her head, and a sick feeling began to gather in her gut. A man had sat in a car outside her house for hours last night, and someone had broken into the house tonight.

  Something was very wr
ong.

  Maggie offered her cone to Casey for a taste, and a bead of melting ice cream rolled down the side of the cone and fell to the floor. Gripped by a sudden panic, Abby turned to her nieces.

  "Finish up your ice cream, girls. We need to go."

  "I don't want to go to bed, Aunt Abby," twin voices wailed. Swallowing around the lump of fear in her throat, Abby saw a flash out of the corner of her eye and looked for the telltale lights that would warn her that the police had arrived. Reassured when she saw only a nondescript black sedan pull into the parking lot, she turned back to Casey and Maggie.

  "How about we have an adventure tonight, then?"

  Both girls stared at her, cones forgotten and dripping onto the floor. "What kind of 'venture?" they asked eagerly.

  She thought quickly. They would be safe in a motel tonight. They could blend into the Las Vegas crowds and be completely anonymous. Maybe the police would find something at her house, some reason they were being targeted.

  "How about we spend the night at a motel?"

  Casey furled her forehead. "Why?"

  "Just because it would be fun." Abby heard the desperation in her voice and tried to calm down. "That's what aunts are for, remember? To have fun."

  Casey thought about it for a moment. "Okay," she said, finishing the rest of her ice-cream cone.

  Maggie's lip trembled. "I need my white blanket."

  "You can sleep with me tonight, Mags. Then you won't need to cuddle with your blanket." Abby grabbed a handful of napkins and began to scrub the girls' hands. "How would that be?"

  Maggie shook her head, tears glinting in her eyes. "I have to have my white blanket."

  The door to the ice-cream store opened, but Abby didn't even bother to look up. "Just for tonight, Maggie?" she pleaded. "We'll get it tomorrow."

  Maggie grabbed Abby's skirt and pressed her face into the material. "I need it." Her voice was muffled, and Abby bent down to pick her up.

  "I know," she whispered into the blond head buried in her neck. "But we can't get it tonight, honey. I promise we'll get it tomorrow."

  Grabbing Casey's hand, she headed for the door, panic and fear swirling together in her head. She had it halfway open when the voice spoke from behind her.

  "Going somewhere, Ms. Markham?"

  Abby's heart slammed against her chest. Spinning around, she saw a tall figure in black leaning against the wall, watching her and the twins. The man seemed to tower above her, his black turtleneck and jeans only emphasizing his broad shoulders and long, lean length.

  Holding Maggie and Casey more tightly, she said, "Who are you?"

  He pushed away from the wall and held out his hand. "Damien Kane. The Las Vegas police sent me here."

  Abby shook his hand reluctantly, unable to look away from his dark eyes. "I'm Abby Markham." She pulled her hand away from his quickly, uncomfortable with his regard and his closeness.

  "Why don't you get in my car, Ms. Markham, and we'll go back to your house?"

  Abby backed up another step and pulled Casey behind her. "I don't think so, Mr. Kane. I'm not accustomed to getting into strangers' cars. In fact, I don't think you showed me any identification."

  A quick flash of what might have been approval passed through Damien Kane's eyes. Then they were flat and unreadable again. Without a word he pulled a wallet out of his pocket and flipped it open, handing it to her. The light from the ice-cream store gleamed dully on the badge.

  Abby's hands tightened on the wallet as she looked back up at him, fear rolling over her in waves. "This says you're an FBI agent. Why is the FBI interested in a simple break-in? What's going on?"

  "I'd rather not discuss it here, Ms. Markham." The agent looked at the girl behind the ice-cream counter, who was watching them avidly. "Why don't we go back to your house and talk?"

  One of the plastic chairs that lined the wall pressed into the backs of her knees, reminding her that she couldn't retreat any farther. Damien Kane blocked the exit from the store. Her body hummed with the need to protect her nieces. She stared at Kane, trying to decide what to do.

  "If you try to run, I'll just follow you." He spoke almost casually, watching her with his obsidian eyes. As she continued to stare at him, frantically trying to think of what to do next, he stepped closer.

  "Come on, Ms. Markham, you called the police." There was a hint of impatience in his voice. "Don't you want to find out if they caught the person in your house?"

  "I have to take care of my nieces," she said almost desperately. "I have to make sure they're safe. I'm taking them to a motel for the night."

  "I'll help you find one after we talk." His gaze slid over the girls and back to her.

  Abby stared at him, mesmerized by his dark eyes and hard face. He wasn't going to take no for an answer, she realized. He'd stand there all night until she agreed to talk to him.

  "All right," she said abruptly. "I must admit, I'm curious about why the FBI is interested in us. Let's go."

  Damien Kane stepped back, and she walked out the door, holding tightly to Maggie and Casey. As she headed to her car, she could feel Kane's gaze on her back. It burned through her sweatshirt and bored into her chest, adding another layer to the fear already there.

  "Are we still going to have a 'venture, Aunt Abby?" Casey asked.

  "You bet, sweetheart." Abby forced another smile onto her lips as she eased Maggie into the car and reached for Casey. "But Mr. Kane wants us to go back to the house first."

  "He must have heard me say I needed my white blanket." Maggie's voice, sleepy and smug, came from the other side of the back seat. "He's a nice man."

  A nice man was the last way she would describe Damien Kane, Abby thought as she drove slowly toward her house a few minutes later. His headlights never wavered in her rearview mirror, and she had no doubt that if she tried to bolt he'd be right behind her.

  No, unsettling was the way she'd describe him. Her gaze drifted back to the reflection of his headlights in her mirror as she thought about his steady, unreadable gaze and the still, silent way he held himself as he'd confronted her back at the ice-cream store. She sensed that Damien Kane was not a man you crossed.

  So she'd tell him what happened before she left for the motel. Twisting around, she glanced quickly at the twins in the back seat. Their eyes were beginning to glaze, and she knew they were ready for bed. How long could it take to tell Mr. Kane about what had happened tonight and last night? In a half hour at the most they would be on their way to a safe, impersonal motel somewhere in the vast sea of people that was Las Vegas.

  When she pulled up in front of her house, she parked behind the two police cars that sat in the street with their lights flashing. Lights blazed in every room in her house. Just seeing the yellow glow streaming out of the windows made her feel better, and she hurried to get Maggie and Casey out of the car.

  The girls' eyes were closed, so she picked them up and carried them toward the house, one on each arm. It wouldn't be too much longer, she thought with a pang, before they would be too heavy to be carried like that.

  Damien Kane appeared suddenly and opened the door for them. "Thank you," she murmured, glancing at him then looking away. As she walked through the door, she was careful not to brush against him. She wanted no part of the coiled power that seemed to emanate from him.

  "Why don't you put them to bed?" he said in a level voice while his gaze scanned the living room. "I'll wait."

  "We're not staying here tonight. I thought I made that clear."

  "They're already sleeping," he said, still not looking at her. "If you decide to go somewhere, you can move them later."

  Maggie and Casey were becoming deadweight on her shoulders. "All right," she said, shifting them on her chest. "I'll be right down." She heard the murmurs of men talking in her kitchen as she walked up the stairs, and out of the corner of her eye she saw two policemen. Obviously there was no intruder in the house now. Even without the reassuring presence of the police, the sense of mena
ce she'd felt in the house earlier had disappeared. Whoever had been here was long gone.

  Lowering both girls to one of the twin beds in the room they used, she removed their shoes and pulled the quilt over them, then tucked Maggie's security blanket beside her. After she flicked off the light, she knelt down next to the bed and smoothed the hair away from their cheeks, kissing both of them softly. Nothing would hurt the girls while she was watching them, she vowed fiercely.

  As she slowly walked downstairs, she heard the murmur of low voices in the kitchen. When she walked into the room, all three of the men were abruptly silent. Damien stood in the darkest part of the kitchen, blending into the shadows.

  Beating down the frisson of uneasiness that shivered through her, she looked at the uniformed officers. "Did you find anything?"

  "The basement window is broken, but we didn't find your intruder. He was gone before we got here," one young policeman said. "Probably ran off into the scrub back there." He nodded at the hillside covered with mesquite and cactus behind her house. "If it was daylight we might have a chance at flushing him out, but not in the darkness."

  "The only thing we could find disturbed was some luggage in the basement. It looks like the intruder went through a couple of small suitcases that were sitting on a table." The other policeman spoke up. "You'll have to look around, but that was all we found other than the broken window."

  Abby looked around her kitchen. Nothing was disturbed, as far as she could tell. Hope rose in her chest. Maybe she had just overreacted. Maybe there hadn't been anyone in the house after all.

  "Are you sure someone actually broke in, then? Maybe it was just an animal that broke the window."

  "Someone was here, all right." It was the first officer. "No animal opened those suitcases. There were muddy footprints on the basement floor and leading up the stairs, and the lock on the basement door is broken. No, Ms. Markham, you were right to get out and call us like you did."