Trading Secrets (26 page)

“We’ve told her to be ready to leave as soon as we get to Houston.”

Nice trick, Sabrina thought, considering the fact that the last she’d heard, Ginny and her new husband had been on their way to Europe.

Matt, what have you gotten yourself into? she asked silently. “I’ll go find Brad. Give me a few minutes,” she added pleadingly. “I think it would be better if I gave the boy the news myself. This is going to shake him terribly.”

“I understand,” Griffin said politely, “but please remember that time is of the essence.”

“Yes, of course.” Sabrina nodded and hurried out into the kitchen. Once around the corner she hesitated a few seconds and then picked up her red shoulder bag. Glancing around the kitchen to make certain she hadn’t left anything on the stove, she walked outside through the screen door, letting it slam loudly behind her.

And then she broke into a run, heading for Cindy’s family’s apartment. It took some severe pounding to bring anyone to the front door. Apparently Cindy’s parents were not at home. Good Lord, she should have made certain they were before allowing Brad to visit, she realized belatedly. There was no telling what two kids that age would get up to alone in an apartment.

There was so much to learn about this business of being a parent.

But one element of the mothering syndrome seemed to be instinctive, even in Sabrina, who had assumed for most of her life that she’d been born without the maternal drive.

Without any warning the instinct to protect Brad was flashing into sudden, fierce existence. No, there was more to it than that. It wasn’t a generalized instinct, Sabrina acknowledged on some primitive level of awareness. Instead the adrenaline was rushing through her veins with such violence because of the particular child involved.

This was Matt August’s son and she, Sabrina, was committed to Matt August. She had no alternative but to protect his offspring.

“Sabrina! What’s going on? I was coming home in a few minutes—” Brad’s complaining tone broke off abruptly as he opened the front door and saw Sabrina’s face. “Something wrong?”

“I don’t know. Brad, don’t ask any questions. Just come with me. This is really important. It concerns Matt.”

“Dad?” Brad stared at her in confusion. Behind him Cindy approached, looking rather flushed.

They’ve been necking or something, Sabrina thought with another kind of panic. Matt would kill her if he came home and found his only son facing a paternity suit. Could thirteen-year-old girls get pregnant? Yes, Sabrina realized, they could.

“Hurry, Brad. We don’t have any time to waste.”

“Brad, what’s wrong?” Cindy asked curiously.

“Nothing. I’ll see you later, Cindy.” Brad’s eyes never left Sabrina’s. “I
gotta
go now. Let me know if you find the treasure this time.” He shut the door behind him and followed Sabrina down the steps.

“What treasure?” Sabrina demanded distractedly.

“We were playing a game on Cindy’s home computer,” Brad said carelessly. “One where you have to find the treasure without getting croaked in the process.”

“Cindy has a computer?” Sabrina asked in amazement, relief coursing through her.

“Yeah. Her parents bought her one. It’s neat. Think Dad would get me one?”

“Given the alternative possibilities, yes,” Sabrina said briskly.

“I could tell him I need it for schoolwork,” Brad said brightly. “Hey, where are we going? Your apartment is on the other side of the swimming pool.”

“My car is parked in front of the manager’s office. I couldn’t find a slot in front of my own apartment because that moron next door took up two spaces for his new pickup truck. Thank God.”

Hurrying along beside her, Brad slanted Sabrina a strange glance. “So why are we going to your car?”

“We are making a getaway, Brad.”

“From what?”

“I wish I knew.” Sabrina dug out her keys as she ran and had them ready when they reached the sleek white Alfa Romeo. “Just get in and fasten your seatbelt. I’ll tell you everything on the way to the airport.”

“The airport! Sabrina, what the heck is going on? What’s all this about Dad?” As he pelted her with questions, Brad opened the door on his side of the car and got into the white leather bucket seat.

Sabrina had the car in gear before he’d slammed the door. “I don’t know for certain, but I don’t feel like taking any chances.” She wheeled the car out of the parking lot. “There are two men back in my apartment who claim they work for Rafferty Coyne. They flashed some badges in my face, but I don’t trust their story.”

Brad considered that. “Dad works for Coyne,” he finally said hesitantly.

“Your father is different,” Sabrina informed him with the grand illogic of a woman who is in over her head with a man and knows it. Even as she spoke the words the irony of them hit her rather forcibly. Something drastic had changed within her, she thought fleetingly.

“Oh.”

“At any rate, and you have a right to know this, Brad, because I could be all wrong, they told me that your father’s been hurt.”

Brad’s head snapped around and he stared at Sabrina in utter shock. “Dad’s hurt?”

“That’s what those two men say. They wanted to take you to see him.”

“I want to see him! Turn around, Sabrina. We’ve
gotta
go back.”

Sabrina took a few steadying breaths, concentrating on finding the freeway entrance. “Brad, I think something’s wrong. I don’t know whether or not Matt’s really been hurt, but I don’t think we can trust those two back in my apartment to tell us the truth. One of
them’s
wearing makeup around what appears to be a swollen, black eye. The other one can’t move his right arm. They look a little like you and Alex looked after that brawl in the parking lot last night. What’s more, they claim they’ve notified your mother to be ready to leave Houston with you as soon as they arrive.”

“But Mom’s in Europe with El
Creepo
.”

“El
Creepo
?”

“Never mind,” Brad muttered.

“Well, I want to check, Brad. I want to call your grandparents and see if they’ve been told about your father and I want to call your mother’s house in Houston and see who answers.”

“Because you don’t think Dad’s really been hurt?” There was pleading hope in the boy’s voice.

“Your father is very good at taking care of himself,” Sabrina said firmly.

There was a long silence as Sabrina swung the Alfa Romeo onto the airport freeway. Brad appeared to be thinking over the situation.

“But why would they say Dad’s been hurt if he hasn’t?”

“I just don’t know, Brad. But these guys are government types, convinced they’re saving the world and probably willing to stoop to any depths to do it. You can’t let people push you around just because they think they know what’s good for you or what you ought to do.”

“Not even government people?”

“Especially not government people. Brad, we’ll know more when we reach the airport. I want you to make the phone calls while I buy the tickets. Have you got your grandparents’ number?”

“No. It’s at the house in Houston.”

“Whoever answers the phone in Houston can give it to you, then.”

“And if Mom answers?”

“Then I may have to reevaluate my paranoid tendencies,” Sabrina said evenly.

Virginia Martin did not answer the phone in Houston. Sabrina turned away from the airline counter, tickets in hand, to find Brad standing by the bank of pay phones. He looked anxious. As soon as he saw her coming toward him, she realized that there was a certain amount of relief in his eyes. Relief and trust. Somehow the boy seemed to be communicating the fact that this was an adult disaster and therefore an adult could deal with it.

“Was anyone at all there?” Sabrina asked gently.

“Felicia, the maid. She gave me my grandparents’ number. She said Mom hadn’t phoned ahead to say she was arriving back in Houston unexpectedly. As far as Felicia knows, Mom and El
Creepo
are still in Europe.”

“Let’s call your grandparents. I’ll do the talking, if you like.”

Gratefully, Brad handed the phone over to Sabrina. The call was answered in San Diego by another maid.

“I’m sorry, but the Augusts are at their country club. They played golf today and won’t be back until this evening. May I take a message?”

“You’re sure they’re at the club?” Sabrina pressed nervously.

“Yes, ma’am. They just left twenty minutes ago.”

“I see. Well, thank you very much. There haven’t been any other, uh, calls for them, have there?”

“I beg your pardon?” the maid said in a frosty tone.

“I mean from their son, for instance? I’m trying to reach him and I was just wondering if they’ve heard from him recently,” Sabrina temporized quickly.

“It has been some months since Matthew August has called his parents,” the maid informed her bluntly. “That man should be ashamed of himself, if you ask me. No sense of responsibility.”

“I’ll tell him when I see him,” Sabrina said briskly, and hung up the phone.

“Had the government people contacted them?” Brad asked urgently.

“No. Neither your mother nor your grandparents seem to have received any messages about Matt.” She frowned thoughtfully, tapping the tickets against the side of the phone.

“So what happens now?” Brad’s eyes were wide and serious.

“I’m going to try to get hold of Alex. Then we leave town,” Sabrina said decisively.

“But where will we go? To find Dad?”

“I don’t know how to find your father, Brad. Therefore, we’ll have to make sure he can find us,” Sabrina said, trying to sound sure and in control. Her fingers were trembling as she waited for Alex to answer his phone.

“No, I cannot come in early tomorrow, Sabrina,” Alex began as soon as he realized who was on the line. “This has got nothing to do with work. Alex, I’m at the airport. I’m on my way to Oregon with Brad.”

“Oregon!”

“Alex, I have to know something. During that scramble in the parking lot do you think you might have hit one of the guys in the arm? Hard enough so that it would still be unusable today?”

“I did a little damage, Sabrina,” Alex admitted cautiously. “I didn’t have much choice.”

“I know that. For heaven’s sake, I’m not blaming you for that! It’s just that one of those men I thought was from the IRS showed up at my door today with a right arm that won’t function. The other guy is wearing makeup around one eye. They told me some story about Matt getting hurt and lying in a hospital in Puerto Rico.”

“Jesus.”

“My sentiments exactly. Plain brown shoes.”

“Nerd shoes.”

“And not cowboy boots.”

“Not much to go on,” Alex warned softly.

“I know. But they work for Rafferty Coyne.”

“I know how you feel about Coyne.”

“And part of the story they just told me doesn’t check out.”

Alex groaned. “I thought I was working in the simple, tacky souvenir business. Not very impressive but a stepping-stone to greater things, I assured my mother. I didn’t know my boss was going to get in trouble with the government. I should have been suspicious when the IRS kept pestering you.”

“These two guys who look like they’ve been in a parking-lot brawl don’t work for the IRS, I discovered. I’ve never even heard of the name of Coyne’s agency.”

“Why would they have come after Brad and me last night?”

“It probably had nothing to do with you. It’s Brad they seem determined to get,” Sabrina whispered, hoping the boy wouldn’t overhear. “And they might be legitimate, for all I know. God knows the government works in mysterious ways.”

“So what now?”

“I’m heading out to Oregon. There would be way too many questions if I arrived at the homestead with the kid in tow. But my dad has a cabin on the coast. Lots of privacy. No one could possibly guess Brad and I will be there. We’re going to stay there until I can clear up this mess. I’ll be checking in by phone after we get to the cabin.”

“Have you got the cabin’s phone number?”

“No, there is no phone. I’ll be calling from a pay phone. But I’m going to tell you where the cabin is just in case”—she broke off uncertainly, aware of Brad’s nervousness—“just in case Matt should happen to call the store. Don’t tell anyone else where it is, Alex. Regardless of what kind of story they give you.”

“Got it. Okay, I’ve got a pencil. Give me the details.”

Sabrina recited the location as best she could remember, knowing that landmarks might have changed since she had last visited the cabin. “It’s the only one at the end of the road above the sea.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him if he calls. But, Sabrina … ?”

“What, Alex?”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“No.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“I don’t dare go to the authorities. Those two guys have a great act. They could probably convince anyone I was insane, unpatriotic, or worse.”

“You’ve got a point.”

“Too bad I wasn’t born with the family banker look. Trustworthy, reliable, cooperative.” Sabrina sighed.

“But why would they want Brad?” Alex persisted.

“I don’t know, Alex. I just don’t know. But I do know that for Matt, Brad is first on the list.”

“What about you? Where do you fit in to August’s list?”

“Good question. I’ll call you from Oregon.”

“For Christ’s sake, Matt, if you’ll stop yelling at me, I’ll explain everything!” Alex exploded over the phone.

Standing in the island’s tin-roofed airport lounge, Matt resisted the urge to kick a stray chicken that was strolling past. He held the phone slightly away from his ear and winced. “The connection is lousy, Alex. Can you run that by me again?”

“I said Sabrina left for Oregon last night. She called from the airport,” Alex repeated. “I have the address of the cabin she took Brad to until she figures out what’s going on. What is going on, Matt?”

Matt stared at the scene of cheerful confusion that was taking place at the front door of the shack that served as an airport. “She left with Brad? She had Brad with her? You’re sure?”

“She said that two government types who claimed they worked for Coyne seemed to be trying to get their hands on him. You know Sabrina. A little paranoid sometimes.”