11. Thad

Iwoke the next morning to sun streaming through the windows. I'd been so worn out when I collapsed into bed the night before that I'd forgotten to close the blinds. I sent a quick text to Finley that I was going to spend the day with Sammie and to call me if she needed anything. She promptly responded, asking that I let her know how everything was going and if we needed her help in any way. Our Finley was a good egg.

Downstairs, Soren, Caspian, and Elliot were at the kitchen table. Sammie stood frying bacon at the stove while Chloe played on the floor with a set of Lincoln Logs Pop had dug out of the attic. From the grim expressions on the adults' faces, I gathered that Soren and Sammie had filled the others in on the developments of yesterday.

"I called Maxine first thing," Sammie said. "I told her we'd arrive sometime after breakfast. The sheriff had already told her the plan."

My gaze met Sammie's for a moment. She smiled at me reassuringly. I hoped she truly felt as calm as she looked, because I was a mass of nerves. So much could go wrong today.

A knock on the mudroom door was followed by Mama's voice announcing her arrival. Chloe sprang to her feet and ran over to greet Mama by throwing her arms around her legs. Mama lifted her up for a hug and kiss. "Are you excited to spend the day at my house? Jasper's in town right now getting hot dogs and ice cream for our lunch."

"Yay," Chloe yelled.

Mama set her down, then greeted the rest of us with a good morning, followed by a demand for answers. "I need to know what's going on. You all have me worried sick."

I'd left her a voicemail after we'd talked to the sheriff to ask her if she'd look after Chloe for the day and said I'd explain why later.

"How about I take Chloe upstairs and get her ready?" Elliot suggested. "That way you guys can talk."

Sammie thanked her and then instructed Chloe to go with Elliot. Once they were safely out of earshot, Sammie set the pile of bacon on the table and offered Mama a cup of coffee. Mama declined, saying she'd already had a cup before she left her house.

"What's going on?" Mama asked. "You all look like you're about to go to a funeral."

Sammie poured a cup of coffee for me and added a dash of cream. I wanted to sweep her into my arms to thank her but held back. Mama would have enough new information to work through without adding that complication. I'd tell her later.

I sat next to Mama at the table and waited for Sammie to join us. When we were all settled, Sammie told her about her abusive past, John's death, and subsequent rebirth.

"My God," Mama said when she was finished. "He's alive? And you thought all this time that you'd killed him?"

"That's right," Sammie said, telling her the rest of what had transpired last night. "We're fairly certain he's headed this way. We think he'll be in Bluefern by the end of the day if not sooner."

"But the sheriff will be waiting for him," I said. I picked it up from there, telling Mama about the sheriff's suggestion and our plan for entrapment at the motel.

"Does that mean Sammie has to see him face-to-face?" Mama asked.

"There's no other way to get him on video," Sammie said. "We need him to say as much as possible and to do something physical to me so the sheriff has something he can use to press charges."

"Winthrop's going to set hidden cameras up in the motel room," I said. "And monitor everything closely. If it gets dangerous at all, he and his deputy will put a stop to it."

"As in, rush in and save Sammie?" Mama asked.

"That's right," I said. "It makes me nervous, too, but this might be the only way."

"And what if he brings his family with him?" Mama asked. "Wouldn't they be outnumbered?"

"We have to trust the sheriff, Mama," I said. "Let him do his job."

"This reminds me too much of what happened with Elliot," Mama said. "We cannot let him take Sammie."

"We know, Mama," Soren said, uncharacteristically gentle.

Atticus arrived, and we once more told the story that had unfolded last night. He didn't say much, other than to exclaim over the very undead John Underwood. "The bastard lived? You know what they say?"

"Only the good die young," Caspian said, speaking for the first time.

"I'll call off our detective," Atticus said. "He'll be disappointed someone beat him to the answers."

I told him the sheriff's idea about an investigative reporter. "Can you call Rafferty this morning—fill him in on everything—and see if he'll call his reporter friend? The one who works for the New Yorker?"

"Really good idea," Atticus said. "I'm on it."

"Mama, I want you and Chloe to stay inside today," I said. "Pop too."

"Yes, of course. If we see something suspicious, I'll call one of you."

We finished breakfast and helped Sammie clean up before we all dispersed. Elliot came down with Chloe, and she and Caspian, albeit reluctantly, excused themselves.

"The restaurant has to serve food despite all of this," Caspian said.

Elliot gave Sammie a hug on her way out. "Please, be so careful."

"I will," Sammie said.

Mama took Chloe off shortly thereafter, leaving Soren and me alone with Sammie. "You ready for this?" Soren asked.

"I just want to get it over with." Sammie's voice shook, as did her hands. "Seeing him again is not something I ever thought would happen. Of all the scenarios, that wasn't one of them."

Soon, the three of us were on our way to the motel. No one spoke much in the car ride into town. We'd almost arrived when I got a call from Cutter.

"I took it upon myself to track him," Cutter said. "He landed just now at the Bozeman airport."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"This is what I do," Cutter said. "What can I say? I'm awesome."

"I have to say I agree, Mr. Cutter."

* * *

We arrivedat the motel a little after nine. The sheriff and his two deputies had already arrived, setting up the cameras and working with Maxine to iron out any details. Fortunately, Maxine was only too happy to cooperate. In fact, she looked as if she welcomed the excitement. In her fifties, Maxine reminded me of an uncooked dumpling, plump and pasty. Today, though, her cheeks were flushed, and her deep-set eyes sparkled.

"I can't wait to look him in the eyes," Maxine said.

"Be careful not to tip him off," Winthrop said.

"I'll do my best," Maxine said.

We thanked her and left Maxine at the front desk while Sammie and I followed the sheriff into the motel room so he could go over the details and instructions with us.

"There are four cameras, each focused from a different angle." Winthrop had concealed one in the air conditioning vent and another in a smoke detector. In addition, he'd hidden one in a table lamp and another in a fake plant on the small table by the window. "There's also one in the bathroom taped to a curtain rod, in case he gets you in there."

"Do I need to worry about being in any certain location for the cameras?" Sammie asked.

"No. We've set them up to get a full picture no matter where you are," Winthrop said. "That said, be cautious. The goal here is to get him to make a move on you, but if at any point it's too much, I want you out of there. If you feel like things are getting out of control or you fear for your life, all you have to do is say his name—John. That'll tip us off, and we'll come storming in."

Sammie rubbed her hands together as if she were cold. "Other than that, I can't say his name. Hopefully I can remember that in the moment."

"You'll be fine," Winthrop said.

"I hope so," she said, glancing at me.

I wrapped an arm around her shoulder for a quick squeeze. She leaned her head against me, and my heart grew to the size of a cantaloupe.

Winthrop had asked Sammie to bring a suitcase of clothes and a few other items to put in the room, to give the impression that she'd been living there. While the sheriff fit her with the wire, I helped place her personal belongings around the space, including a few of Chloe's toys. I really hoped her mother and her toys would get back to their little girl in one piece.

"What if he has a gun?" I asked. This whole idea was seeming a lot less sound that it had last night.

"He will have a gun," Sammie said. "That's how he thinks he's going to get me to agree to come with him. The moment I refuse, he'll get nasty. All we need is for him to hit me once, right, Sheriff? Will that be enough to arrest him?"

"That's correct," Winthrop said. "The more you can get him to say and the more physical abuse you can take, the better."

"I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this," I said.

"I can do this. I promise." Sammie sidled up next to me and slipped her hand into mine. "He's hurt me over and over, and I'm still here."

"And if it gets serious at all, we'll storm the room," Winthrop said. "Thad, I want you out in the van with me."

"Will he be suspicious if Chloe isn't here?" I asked. Why hadn't I thought of that before?

"I'll tell him she's at the sitter's because I'm about to leave for work," Sammie said. "He won't question it."

How could she be so calm? I'd thought this was a grand idea the night before, but now in the light of day I was having major second thoughts.

Sammie wrapped her arms around my neck. "It's going to be okay. Soon, this will be all over and we can start a new life. Together."

I hugged her back, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. "Please, be careful. I can't lose you."

"I don't want to be lost." She rose up onto her tiptoes to give me a kiss on the cheek. "This'll be over soon. But if anything happens, please take care of Chloe."

"That won't be necessary, because you're going to be around for a long time," I said.

"I love you," she whispered in my ear.

"I love you." As happy as it made me to hear the words and to say them in return, I was scared out of my mind. We were putting the woman I loved in direct danger.

I gave her another quick kiss and then left her in the room, following Winthrop out to the van.

While we waited, I took a look around at the equipment. Multiple monitors displayed live feeds from the surveillance cameras. I could see Sammie from every angle, which made me feel slightly calmer. In addition, there were several laptops, recording devices, and communications gear all inside the van. These guys knew what they were doing, I reminded myself.

Sammie sat on the edge of the bed with her hands wrapped around her waist, probably feeling like a sitting duck.

"She looks so small," I said under my breath.

"Yeah, but she's brave and tough," Winthrop said. "I've seen this kind of man too many times in my line of work. He means business. But I'm betting on your girl. In my experience, mothers protecting their cubs are the fiercest creatures of all."

"The minute it gets dangerous, you guys will go in, right?" I asked, even thought he'd reassured me several times already.

"That's right. Don't worry, this isn't my first rodeo. Around here, despite the size of our town, I've seen a lot. We're going to nail this scumbag and get him thrown in jail where he belongs."

Winthrop had positioned his deputies a few doors down from room 6. Dressed in plain clothes, they pretended to play checkers at one of the small metal tables and chairs located outside each room. In addition to the cameras in the room, the sheriff had placed a camera on the office and another in the parking lot.

Thirty minutes later, a black sedan appeared on the screen as it pulled up in front of the office. "That's a rental car. It has to be him," Winthrop said.

I didn't bother to ask him how he knew the car was a rental. I didn't think I could actually speak even if I wanted to.

"He's alone," Winthrop muttered under his breath. "That's good."

"He thinks he's going to take her home with him," I said.

"Yeah, well, he has another think coming," Winthrop said.

John Underwood parked and got out of the car, standing for a moment. His gaze swept the length of the motel until he landed on number 6. Wearing jeans and a T-shirt over his thick, barrel-chested body, he looked as if he belonged in Bluefern. He wore his brown hair a little too long and shaggy. Steel-toed cowboy boots and aviator sunglasses added an aura of danger.

He lumbered to the door. It was hard to believe this man had ever won over a woman like Sammie. But narcissists were good liars. They knew initially how to get what they wanted. Mama had said my real father had been that way.

I held my breath as he pounded on the door. It opened seconds later, with Sammie standing in the doorframe. She did a great job acting surprised and even tried to slam the door in his face. He stepped toward her, forcing her back into the room. Then he followed her inside, slamming the door behind him.

Please, Jesus, stay by her side,I silently prayed.