Ransomed Dreams (4 page)

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Authors: Amy Wallace

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Religious, #Christian, #Christian Fiction, #Forgiveness

BOOK: Ransomed Dreams
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Branches slapped at Steven’s face and shoulders as he ran.

Deep into the wooded terrain of Rock Creek’s interior, he reached for his radio and called in his position. Up ahead in the small meadow, a heavyset man with wild eyes held tightly to Ryan. His sweaty arms clamped around the boy’s neck, and he yelled for them to stay away. Ryan’s body hung listlessly.

Steven stopped, close enough to see the severe bruising through Ryan’s tattered clothes and his eyes wide with fear.

Hours had stretched into days of looking for Ryan with little hope of finding him. Parker doubted they’d find him still breathing, but they had. Now Steven’s job focused on getting the boy away from his captor and home.

Leaves crunched and branches snapped across the clearing.

A gun fired.

The massive perp returned fire. Steven had a clear shot of the man’s back and had to act now.

Lining up the target in his sights, he pulled the rifle’s trigger. A loud scream sounded. Then silence.

FBI agents rushed into the clearing.

Michael and Clint got there first and pulled the little boy away from the dead man.

Ryan’s body fell into Steven’s arms, unconscious.

If only I’d found him days ago
.

“Ryan’s not breathing, Steven.”

“Was he shot?” If one of his team members had missed and struck Ryan, there would be hell to pay.

“No.” Clint radioed in and requested the medical examiner and an ambulance.

Steven started CPR.

Minutes passed before the medics rushed onto the scene. The clearing was too small for a helicopter. They intubated Ryan and took over for Steven in one swift set of movements. Clint pulled him back.

“We should have gotten here sooner.”

“We did all we could, Kessler,” Michael said.

Parker’s shot had given Steven perfect placement to finish the job. But Ryan wouldn’t be going home tonight. Might not make it to the hospital alive.

“Never again. I don’t want another child to suffer like that on our watch.”

His partner nodded with a slow tilt of his chin. “Let’s head to the hospital. And pray.”

That attitude kept Clint Walker Rollins doing his job every day and going home to his family sane every night.

Parker scoffed at Clint’s comment. Then all three trudged through the thick brush in silence.

It’d been a long time since Steven had held a child in Ryan’s condition. Not long enough, though.

Ryan’s parents were on their way.

The doctors still didn’t have good news to report, but Ryan was on life support and the medical staff was doing everything in their power to keep him breathing. Of that Steven had made sure.

Now he paced. Clint clicked away on Steven’s personal laptop in the private patient waiting room, compiling facts and information he’d need to file Ryan’s report, no doubt. Having a best friend like Clint to watch his back kept Steven doing this
job, year after year. Without drinking to dull the daggers in his conscience.

Not that he hadn’t thought about it. He had. But alcohol had ruined enough in his life already And he had a son to protect.

His phone buzzed, and Steven answered it.

“Agent Kessler, this is Thomas Perkins from Hope Ridge Academy We’ve tried to contact your parents to pick up your son, but no one is answering at their residence. He’s among the last students left in our after-school care. When can I expect your arrival?”

Steven groaned. He’d forgotten that his dad and stepmom were out of town for the weekend. Too bad his sister, Hanna, didn’t live closer. “I’ll be right there.”

Clint looked up at his muffled curse. “That’s not gonna make it better. What’s the problem?”

“Dad and Sue are in Baltimore opening a new coffee shop. James is at school waiting for me.”

“I can see if Sara will swing back by and pick him up. She should be done with afternoon rounds by now.” Clint speed dialed his wife, one of DC’s finest oncologists.

Steven closed his partner’s phone. “No. I’m not doing any good here. And it’s James’s last day of kindergarten. I should at least pick up my son once from school.”

“Your dad and Sue moved to DC to help, Steven. Cut yourself some slack. Single parenting is hard enough without wallowing in guilt.”

Easy for Clint to say. He and Sara made marriage, parenting, and life look rose colored. Together. Steven shook away the green thoughts. “See you in the morning. Call me if anything changes with Ryan’s condition.”

Beltway traffic didn’t help him reach his goal quick enough, and thoughts of Ryan dogged him when Alexandria’s red stoplights left him with no cars to pass.

By the time he parked his blue Explorer, showed his credentials, and bypassed the magnetometers, his son sat in the after-school room with a teacher alone. At least James wasn’t crying.

Steven leaned against the doorway watching the long-legged teacher invite James to work a puzzle on the floor. The slightly opened door gave him a little cover to observe. Her soft auburn hair, clipped into a ponytail, shook as she laughed with his little all-star.

Steven had never seen a young, attractive woman enjoy spending time with James. It did something to his insides.

Something he hadn’t felt in years.

Angela had left when their son was just a baby. Ever since then, James’s grandparents or an older nanny cared for him. Better not to have a woman seeking a ready-made family trying to win James’s affection. Between James and work, in the last five years dating hadn’t made Steven’s list of things to do.

Maybe it should have.

“Agent Kessler?”

He turned to face a scrawny flip of a stuffed suit.

“I’m Thomas Perkins, the vice principal.” The man reached over and closed the classroom door. “I’d like to discuss your plans future for after-school care. If you intend to keep your son at Hope Ridge, that is.”

Steven straightened to a full head over the younger man. “This is the first time James has been picked up late. It won’t happen again.”

“With your Bureau work, I don’t imagine the hours are ever conventional.”

“I’ll make sure we have other arrangements worked out before school starts in September.”

“Good. Please see that the front office is updated as soon as possible.” Mr. Perkins strutted down the hall like he owned the world. The thirtysomething official needed an attitude adjustment in a bad way. But not from Steven. Someone else would have to take that guy down a notch.

Steven adjusted his favorite red and black tie. He hoped the five years he had on the vice principal made him far less arrogant, not so quick to try and pick a fight. Like he would
have done more than a decade ago.

Before Clint had started feeding him quotes about fools rushing in where angels fear to tread.

He returned his attention to the classroom and its beautiful teacher. Maybe that was Perkins’s problem. He’d caught Steven staring at his girlfriend.

Not likely.

The lady still doing puzzles with his son had more class than that. Given her looks and ease with children, she probably had a husband and kids at home too.

Before reaching for the classroom door, he checked his phone one last time to see if Clint had left a message about Ryan.

Nothing.

Maybe no news was good news this time.

“I’m here to pick up James.”

Gracie’s face flamed. She’d caught a glimpse of the handsome stranger in the hallway earlier, before her boss had closed the door, and she’d been watching for him ever since.

Talk about a candid-camera moment.

After a prolonged pause, she shot to her feet and straightened her white sundress. “I’m sorry; we haven’t met. I’ll need to see some identification before I can release James.”

“Daddy! You’re here!” James rushed into the man’s arms. No mistake. This was James Kessler’s father. Both of them had full heads of light brown hair and the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen.

“Hey my little man, it’s good to see you.” He put James back down onto the linoleum. The boy started talking at the speed of a race car.

Little man
.

Mark’s pet name for their son sent memories crashing to the surface.

She tried to shake away the snapshots of her smiling little
boy with his adoring daddy. Melting into a tearful mess in front of a parent would draw her boss’s ire for sure. Not to mention how it would send James’s father running for cover fast. This dad who loved his son like Mark had loved Joshua. What she wouldn’t give to be a part of a family again.

Mr. Kessler brought her back to the present with a smile that curled her toes. Then he ruffled James’s hair and focused on his son’s rapid chatter.

“I’m Steven Kessler, by the way.” He managed to get the words in while James took a breath. After that, he reached into his suit coat and handed her what she assumed was photo ID.

His left hand held no trace of a wedding ring. Gracie’s face flushed hotter as she realized the direction of her thoughts. Then she dropped his ID.

Steven chuckled.

She wasn’t usually this clumsy around men.

His amused grin, as he bent to pick up his ID, didn’t help cool her burning cheeks. He returned the ID to her, and she glanced at the picture, now resting firmly in her hand. The man looked even better in person than in his photo.

“I’ll get James’s things.” Gracie stepped around her desk and picked up his red backpack.

“Mrs. Lang is going to be my teacher next year.” James pulled out the kindergarten award papers he’d shown her earlier. “Look at this. Daddy!”

As Steven took the extended papers, his phone blared the
COPS
theme song. He held up one finger to his son. “Kessler.”

As his caller’s loud jumbled voice filled the room, the FBI agent closed his eyes and ran his free hand through his hair. The muscles in his now-clamped jaw worked up and down.

He slammed his phone shut and cleared his throat. “Could I have my badge, please?”

Gracie took a final look at the badge and placed it in his hand. She smiled at James. “I’m glad to know James’s grandparents aren’t the only ones I’ll get to know next year. I’ve already heard
wonderful things about each of you.”

“James’s grandparents are the ones you’ll see most often.”

Steven’s blue eyes had aged during the short phone conversation. Whatever had been communicated in that call had turned his warm demeanor to ice.

“Are you okay Mr. Kessler?”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.” He looked down at his son. “Come on, little man. I could use some time with my favorite guy. It’s been a rough day.” Steven hoisted James into his arms.

With a slight wave, the two Kessler men disappeared down the hall.

3

M
etal groaned and scraped against metal as a large blue minivan tumbled down the hill
.

Everything happened in slow motion. Glass shattered. Screams ripped the air. Gracie smelled gasoline and blood, and the bottom of the ravine seemed miles away. But she slid down the cold, slippery mud as fast as her feet would move. By the time she reached the car, only silence remained
.

Blood filled her sight
.

Elizabeth and Joshua and Mark sprawled over the cold snowy ground
.

Her stomach clenched and she turned away, the image freezing her to the core
.

A chilling presence drew her attention upward. A man, shrouded in black, stood motionless. Gracie screamed for help and ran to catch him as he turned and moved out of sight. She ran closer to him until he was just within reach
.

Then tires squealed and he sped away in a black truck. MVB. She repeated the license plate letters over and over again
.

Her heartfelt as if it would slam through her chest, but she had to get back to save her family. This time they would survive
.

But the crash site disappeared, leaving only bright white hospital lights assaulting her eyes. She stood in the silent emergency room surrounded by three tables covered with sheets. The bodies underneath terrified her. She couldn’t look at them
.

“No!” She bolted upright in bed, waking from the nightmare. Her comforter felt like a lead weight. She threw it aside, heaving for breath.

Jake scrambled from the bed and stood at her bedroom door. Even her dog couldn’t handle her emotional outburst.

She clutched a pillow to her chest and fell back, drawing into a ball. The vise grip of grief closed around her heart.

Images of Mark, Elizabeth, and Joshua faded in her mind’s eye. Gracie tried to focus, but only watercolor shadows remained. She felt her empty left ring finger.

“Oh, God, why couldn’t I have been in the van too?”

Silence answered her.

Moving to the hope chest at the foot of her bed, she uncovered the green velvet case. Its cool softness mocked her. Unlike the first time she’d held that box.

No. Everything had changed since then.

For over two long years she’d been without her family. She’d become one of those lonely women hiding instead of wearing her wedding rings. She’d grown tired of explaining her widowhood and the pitiful, sorrowful looks that accompanied her confession.

Tears dotted the little velvet box. Opening the lid, she fingered the jewelry that had been so much a part of her for seven years. Every time the marquis-cut diamond caught the light, she’d smile with loving memories.

No longer.

She closed the lid and returned the green box to its resting place.

Meeting Steven Kessler must have brought on this dream. A dream she hadn’t had in months. She shook her head. More likely it stemmed from her upcoming trip and the anxiety that had been building all weekend.

Still, thinking about Steven Kessler didn’t help anything. It only intensified the ache.

The past held her captive. She wasn’t free to date again. It didn’t matter that her sister and parents said it was time.

Not yet.

Standing up made her head pound. She massaged her temples
and neck while crossing the cold hardwood floor. Moving aside the floor-length rose curtains, she peered into the thick darkness. No moon to soften the blackness. No stars shining. Only clouds and night.

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