Hideaway Page 5

Nina, busy preparing fresh fruit, glanced around, counting heads. She smiled at Boyd as he grabbed some baked chips.

“Isn’t Caitlyn hungry?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged, tried some salsa. “She didn’t win. She can say she did, but she didn’t.” Because his nanny—like he needed one!—was busy with his little sister, Boyd snuck a cookie even though they were off-limits before dinner. “She didn’t come in when we called the game, so that’s default.”

“She didn’t come in with the rest of you?”

A smart boy, he made short work of the cookie in case his own nanny looked his way.

“Nobody found her, so she’ll say she won, but she defaulted. Maybe she snuck in the house before, and that’s cheating. Either way, she didn’t win.”

“Caitlyn doesn’t cheat.” Wiping her hands, Nina set off to look for her girl.

She checked Cate’s room, in case she’d come in to change or to use the bathroom. She glanced around the second floor, but many of the doors were closed, so she walked out on the wide, cantilevered terrace.

She called out, more impatient than concerned, walked down the railed bridge that led to the pool side of the house, then back again before she took the steps down.

Cate loved the walled garden, so she looked there, wandered through the little orchard beyond it, calling, calling.

The sun dipped lower; the shadows lengthened. The air began to chill. And her heart began to thump.

A city girl, born and raised in L.A., Nina Torez had what she considered a healthy distrust of the country. She began to imagine poisonous snakes, cougars, coyotes, even bears as her calls for Cate rose to desperate.

Silly, she told herself, all that was just silly. Catey was fine, had just . . . fallen asleep somewhere in the big house. Or . . .

She rushed to the guest cottage, burst inside, calling for her charge. The sea side of the guest cottage was a sheer wall of glass. Staring out at the sea, she thought of all the ways a little girl could be swallowed up.

And thinking of Cate’s love for the little beach, she raced out, down the steps, called and called while the sea lions reclining on the rocks watched her with bored eyes.

She raced up again to try the pool house, the garden shed. Sprinted inside to the lower level to search the theater, the family room, the rehearsal space, even the storage areas.

She raced back out the other side to check the garage.

“Caitlyn Ryan Sullivan! You come out right now! You’re scaring me.”

And she found the butterfly barrette she’d tucked into Cate’s long, lovely hair that morning on the ground by the old tree.

It meant nothing, she thought even as she clutched it in her hand. The girl had been doing handsprings, racing and running, doing pirouettes and jigs. It had just fallen out.

She told herself that over and over as she ran back to the house. Tears blurred her eyes when she dragged open the huge front door, and all but ran into Hugh.

“Nina, what in the world’s the matter?”

“I can’t—I can’t—Mr. Hugh, I can’t find Caitlyn. I can’t find her anywhere. I found this.”

She held out the barrette, burst into tears.

“Here now, don’t you worry. She’s just tucked up somewhere. We’ll find her.”

“She was playing hide-and-seek.” The trembling started as he led her into the main living room, where most of the family had gathered. “I—I came in to help Maria with little Circi and the baby. She was playing with the other children, and I came inside.”

Charlotte, sitting with a second cosmo, looked over as Hugh led Nina in. “For God’s sake, Nina, what’s going on?”

“I looked everywhere. I can’t find her. I can’t find Catey.”

“She’s probably just upstairs in her room.”

“No, ma’am, no. I looked. Everywhere. I called and called. She’s a good girl, she’d never hide away when I called for her, when she could hear I was worried.”

Aidan got to his feet. “When did you last see her?”

“They started, all the children, to play hide-and-seek. An hour—more now. She was with the other children, so I came to help with the babies and little ones. Mr. Aidan . . .”

She held out the barrette. “I only found this, by the big tree near the garage. It was in her hair. I put it in her hair this morning.”

“We’ll find her. Charlotte, check upstairs again. Both floors.”

“I’ll help.” Lily rose, as did her daughter.

“We’ll start checking this level.” Hugh’s sister patted Charlotte’s shoulder. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“You’re supposed to watch her!” Charlotte shoved to her feet.

“Ms. Charlotte—”

“Charlotte.” Aidan took his wife’s arm. “Nina wouldn’t have any reason to watch Cate every minute while she’s playing with all the kids.”

“Then where is she?” Charlotte demanded, and ran from the room calling for her daughter.

“Nina, come sit with me.” Rosemary held out a hand. “The men are going to look outside, every nook and cranny. The rest will look through the house.”

Rosemary tried a comforting smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “And when we find her, I’m going to give her a good talking-to.”

For more than an hour, they looked, covering every inch of the sprawling house, its outbuildings, the grounds. Lily gathered the children, asked when they’d last seen Cate. It came down to the game Cate herself had instigated.

Lily, her flame-red hair disordered from the search, took Hugh’s hand. “I think we need to call the police.”

“The police!” Charlotte shrieked it. “My baby! Something’s happened to my baby. She’s fired! That useless woman’s fired. Aidan, God, Aidan.”

As she half swooned against him, the phone rang.

On a deep breath, Hugh walked over, picked up the phone.

“This is the Sullivan residence.”

“If you want to see the girl again, it’ll take ten million, in unmarked, nonsequential bills. Pay, and she’ll be returned to you unharmed. If you contact the police, she dies. If you contact the FBI, she dies. If you contact anyone, she dies. Keep this line open. I’ll call with further instructions.”

“Wait. Let me—”

But the phone went dead in his hand.

Lowering the phone, he looked at his son with horror. “Someone’s got Cate.”

“Oh, thank God! Where is she?” Charlotte demanded. “Aidan, we need to go get her right now.”

“That’s not what Dad meant.” His soul sank as he held Charlotte tight against him. “Is it, Dad?”

“They want ten million.”

“What are you talking about?” Charlotte tried to struggle out of Aidan’s arms. “Ten million for . . . You—she—My baby’s been kidnapped?”

“We need to call the police,” Lily said again.

“We do, but I need to tell you . . . He said, if we did, he’d hurt her.”

“Hurt her? She’s just a little girl. She’s my little girl.” Weeping, Charlotte pressed her face to Aidan’s shoulder. “Oh God, God, how could this happen? Nina! That bitch is probably part of this. I could kill her.”

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