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Bing Bong!
Ellen couldn't see the face at the door, but a shadow stood silhouetted in the yellowish porch light. She opened the door and stood stricken against a blast of frigid wind.
At her front door was the last person in the world she ever expected to see.
Chapter Seventy-five
It was Carol Braverman, standing in a long black coat, a quilted purse slung over an arm. Her hair was slicked back in a chignon, her eyes glittered with emotion, and her mouth made a glossy line. She asked, "Ellen Gleeson?"
Ellen nodded, stu
"I'm Carol Braverman, but you knew that already." Carol turned on her heel, the coat making a chic swish. She looked at Ellen with determined blue eyes. "You adopted my son."
"What? I'm sorry?" Ellen struggled to react. A million thoughts flooded her head. She couldn't process any of them fast enough.
"I came as soon as I had it verified. He's my son Timothy. He was kidnapped in Miami right after his first birthday."
"I don't know what you mean," Ellen said, begi
"Sorry, but I think you do." Carol's eyes softened slightly. "I can only imagine what you must be going through, and I feel sorry for you, I really do. But we both know the truth. You have my baby, and I want him back."
"No, I don't." Ellen stepped toward her, leaving the front door open, filling the room with frigid air. "Please, leave my house."
"You have my son, don't pretend you don't know. You were in Miami two days ago."
"No, you're wrong." Ellen's mouth went dry. How did Carol know? No matter, a plan was coming together in her mind. She wasn't tied up anymore. As soon as she got Carol out of the house, she'd be free to move. She said, "I don't know what you're talking about. Leave my house, right now."
"Let me explain." Carol put up a hand. "A reporter who works with you called me at home and told me everything. Sarah Liu is her name. She told me about you and the boy you call W."
Ellen felt it like an electric shock. Sarah had called the Bravermans? How? Why?
"She caught you on our website, printing out my son's picture. She called your house and verified that you were out of town. She figured out you'd come to Miami." Carol paused, cocking her head. "Why did you? Did you want to check us out?"
Ellen's mind reeled, then she fought to recover. She had to save W. Moore would be waiting, the gun to her son's head.
"Sarah claimed the reward, of course." Carol smiled in gentle triumph, her diamond earrings flashing. "It's a million dollars, life-changing money. That's why we set it so high. We knew that sooner or later it would bring somebody out of the woodwork, and it did."
"This is insane. Get out."
"I Googled you online, I found the articles you wrote about him. I know you didn't know he was kidnapped, but that's not my problem. He's mine, and I want him." Carol's tone turned indignant. "My husband's on the way. His plane was delayed in the snow, and I didn't want to wait."
Ellen almost spiraled into an emotional stall. She used to think this was her worst nightmare, but now she knew better. Her worst nightmare was in her own kitchen. She had to get Carol out of here. Suddenly a noise came from the stairwell, and they both turned. Oreo Figaro appeared on the stair landing, where he stopped and sat down with a yawn, curling his inky tail around him.
"Where is Timothy?" Carol demanded. "I demand to see him."
"He's not Timothy, he's my son, and he's at a sleepover."
"A three-year-old, at a sleepover?" Carol moved toward the stairway, but Ellen shifted over and blocked her way.
"Stop right there. You have no right to walk around my house." She raised her voice to regain some authority. If Carol took one step closer to the stairway, she'd be able to see the kitchen from its other entrance. She'd smell the gasoline, and they'd all end up dead. Ellen put a firm hand on Carol's coat sleeve. "Get out, right now!"
"I thought we could do this without the police, but maybe not. You have my son, and I won't leave here without him." Carol tried to wrench her arm free, but Ellen held on to it with all her might. She was trying to save Carol's life, but the woman was endangering the son they both loved.
"I don't know who you are. I don't know what you're talking about."
"You know he's mine, and I'm appealing to you, mother to mother." Carol's eyes filled with sudden wetness. "I held out hope, all this time, I knew he'd turn up. I knew he was alive. I could feel him."
"Get the hell out!" Ellen fought a rising panic. She could imagine Moore listening. They were ru
"We hired a detective, and he confirmed everything Sarah said, including your plane ticket down and back."
"Go!" Ellen shoved her to the threshold, but Carol shoved back, her expression fierce.
"I'm not going!" She braced herself in the threshold, rooted as a tree. "I've waited two years to see him and that's long enough. I'll stand on your porch all night if I have to. I want my son!"
"He's not here!" Ellen shouted, loud enough for Moore to hear. "Go! NOW!"
"Call the police then." Carol folded her arms. "But you won't do that, will you? Because you know that you're keeping my child."
"Get OUT!" Ellen shouted louder, fighting a wild impulse to run to the kitchen, grab Will, and go like hell, but Carol's eyes narrowed with a new suspicion.
"Your eyes just moved. You just looked somewhere in back, behind you. He's back there, isn't he?"
"No, I didn't."
"I know he's here!" Suddenly Carol hit Ellen in the face, and she reeled backwards, off-balance, recovering too late.
"No, stop!"
"Timothy!" Carol broke free and bolted for the dining room.
"NO! STOP! WAIT!" Ellen chased her, took a desperate flying leap, and caught Carol by the hem of her long coat. The two women fell to the dining room floor, sliding on the hardwood and knocking into the dining room chairs like bowling pins.
"I want my son!" Carol screamed, as the two mothers wrestled on the dining room floor, bumping the chairs aside.
"NO!" Ellen struggled with all her might to pin Carol to the floor and had almost succeeded when they both heard the sound of raucous laughter.
"What was that?" Carol asked, her back on the floor.
Ellen felt her heart stop with fear, and she twisted behind her.
Rob Moore stood over them, his legs spread like a commando. He aimed his gun down at them. "Girl-on-girl action," he said.
"You!" Carol said, hushed, and Moore smiled slyly.
"Carol? Long time, no see."