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Forgotten Son
“That can be done from Washington. I’ll speak with the U.S. Attorney’s office.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Dad,” she said, not able to let this go on any longer. “I’m staying here.”
“You need medical attention and—”
“I know what I need. I’m not a child.”
The room filled with a thick tension.
“We’ll check in later, Ms. Whitten,” Tom said. He and the other agent quickly left, but Caroline barely noticed. She was concentrating on her father’s anger, which she could feel sucking all the oxygen out of the room.
“This is just like you, isn’t it, Caroline,” Stephen charged. “Always needing to defy me. Do you even realize how worried your mother, Grace and I have been? We thought you were dead, killed by this insane cult leader. And now that you’re back we want to take care of you, but you’re throwing it all in our faces.”
“But you will not be taking care of me,” she pointed out, with as much calm as she could manage. “You’ll hire someone to do that, and I’d rather recuperate here close to Grace.”
“Maybe she’s right, Stephen,” Joanna said. “The girls have always been close.”
“Do you know what this is going to look like in the papers?” Stephen turned on Joanna.
“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Well, you’d better. We have an election coming up.”
Caroline lay back on the pillows. It always came down to that—the next election, the votes. Nothing else mattered, not even their daughters’ health or happiness. She wished they’d go away and leave her alone. Loneliness was preferable to this.
The door opened and Colin rushed in. He went directly to Caroline. “You’re okay? I was so worried.” He kissed her cheek and she tried not to pull away.
“It’s awful big of you to show up, Colin,” her father said.
Her mother picked up her purse. “I think we need to leave the two of you alone. I’ll make arrangements for you to stay here if that’s what you wish. Your father and I will delay our plans until tomorrow. That will give you time to think about it.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
“I’ll be outside,” Grace said.
Joanna and Grace kissed her and walked out. Stephen glanced at her briefly, then followed.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Colin said.
She took a deep breath, knowing she couldn’t take much more that day. “I’m really tired and I just want to rest.”
“Sure. I understand. I’ll stay until you wake up.”
“No. I’d rather that you left.”
“Caroline…”
“How did the opening go?”
“Great. But I couldn’t concentrate on what had to be done for worrying about you.”
“Then why did you go?” Try as she might she was unable to keep the hurt out of her voice.
He touched her face. “Please don’t be angry. I just couldn’t sit around one more minute.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”
Did he? She didn’t think so. He didn’t love her the way she wanted to be loved—completely and passionately, like Eli loved his Ginny. When he’d talked about her, Caroline had heard the love in his voice even after all the years she’d been dead. Colin and she didn’t have anything close to that.
She wanted to be the most important person in his life and she wasn’t. That’s what had bothered her about them getting married so soon. She wanted more than what she and Colin had. The ordeal she’d just been through proved that they didn’t have that special magic to make a marriage last forever. And she wanted that—one man, one marriage, forever.
“I left my ring in that room they kept me in,” she said, trying to think of something else.
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll buy you another one.”
She didn’t have any strength left to deal with Colin and everything she was feeling about their relationship. She turned away. “I need to rest.”
“Sure. I’ll come back later.” He kissed her cheek, but she didn’t respond.
When he left, she began to cry. Tears ran down her cheeks to her neck and gown and she didn’t try to stop them. She cried for everything that had happened, for all the changes in her life and the changes that were to come.
And she cried for Eli.
CHAPTER FIVE
ELI WOKE UP FEELING strange. His right arm was on fire and it took a moment for everything to come rushing back. He was in a room, attached to machines. Good God, was he dying? Turning his head, he glanced at his arm. It was bandaged and looked as big as a log. How bad was it? he wondered.
Tuck was sitting in a chair with his long legs stretched out in front of him, his hands folded across his chest, his head against the back of the chair. He was asleep. Tuck could fall asleep anywhere. Eli had teased him about that for years. He was never so glad to see anyone in his life.
Eli moved his legs and Tuck was instantly on his feet. Another thing about Tuck—he was a light sleeper.
“How are you?” Tuck ran both hands through his hair in a nervous gesture.
“Did they arrest him?” he asked instead of answering. He was surprised his voice sounded so hoarse, but then he remembered the anesthesiologist saying something about putting a tube down his throat.
“Yeah. They arrested Buford and his followers.”
“Good,” Eli murmured, and drifted back to sleep.
When he woke up again, he wasn’t feeling so strange. Tuck was still there and got to his feet when Eli opened his eyes.
“You’re awake,” he said, coming to the bed.
“Yes,” Eli replied, his throat still dry. “You said they arrested Buford?”
“Sure did. They were sitting around a campfire praying when we arrived. The FBI called for a bus and they went peacefully. One of the dogs got out of control and attacked an agent and the dog was shot. The other dogs are at the pound and they’ve been checked out. They’re clean, so you don’t have to worry about that. But they’ll probably be put down because they’ve been trained to kill.”
“What about the dark-haired woman called Jezebel?”
“She can’t remember anything before Buford’s followers picked her up on the street. Child Protective Services is helping with the children, and several other agencies have been called in to help. The FBI is making sure Jezebel gets help, too.”
“Good. Did forensics get all the evidence they needed from that secret room?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“There wasn’t a room when we got there.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Eli moved in agitation but quickly calmed himself when pain shot through his arm.
“The vegetable cellar was caved in and the ground leveled. All the jars of vegetables were stacked against one of the huts. They scattered chicken feed and goat feed over the area and the animals were busy scratching and eating. I’m not sure how they did that so fast, but obviously it was built that way—to cave in easily.”
“Buford’s a smart son of a bitch.”
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