Ransom of the Heart Read online

  Ransom of the Heart

  Maine Justice, Book 7

  By Susan Page Davis

  Ransom of the Heart, Copyright ©2018 by Susan Page Davis

  Published by Tea Tin Press

  Published in the United States of America

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrical, chemical, mechanical, optical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. Inquiries may be sent by email through www.susanpagedavis.com

  Chapter 1

  “So, how are you feeling about this new venture, Nate?” Captain Harvey Larson looked up and nodded as the waitress filled his coffee cup. “I’ll have a BLT. Thanks.”

  Nate Miller was nearly done with his lunch when Harvey had joined him at an outside table at the restaurant on Franklin Street. It was handy to the police station, and cops headed to “the diner” out of habit, especially in warm weather. Nate picked up a French fry and frowned. “Good. Mostly good. But I feel kind of guilty, too.” He popped the fry into his mouth.

  “Why would you feel guilty?”

  “Well, you’ve put a lot into my training and everything.”

  “That’s what got you this job offer from the state.” Harvey took a sip of the too-hot coffee and set the cup down. “Look, Nate, you’re a good cop, and you’re a good detective. I’ve been proud to have you in my squad. I know this was a difficult decision for you.”

  “Yeah, totally.” Nate eyed him warily. “I really like the Priority Unit. It’s Jackie mostly. She doesn’t like to think I could get shot at. It happens so often these days. Not here necessarily, but. . .”

  “I know. This job has always been dangerous, but it’s more so now than ever before. Believe me, I understand what that can do to marriages.” Harvey picked up his coffee cup. Now wasn’t the time to get sidetracked in the past. He took a quick sip. Still too hot.

  “I just don’t want to let you down.” Nate’s earnest brown eyes shone with anxiety.

  Harvey shook his head. “You’re not letting anyone down. You’re going to be a big help to a lot of people. Kids, Nate. Parents. Educators. Even though we’ll miss you, that’s why I can let you go without putting up a fight to keep you here. I know this job with the Department of Education is important. And I’d never hold it against a man who chose something he thought was better for his family.”

  Nate pressed his lips together and nodded. “Thanks, Captain. That means a lot.”

  Eddie Thibodeau, Harvey’s top detective, best friend, and brother-in-law, threaded his way between the tables as the waitress set Harvey’s sandwich in front of him.

  “Hey, Ed,” Harvey said. “What have you got on the Farnham case?”

  “I’m ready to pick him up, soon as I eat something.” Eddie grinned and waved to the waitress. “My usual, Brooke.” He sat down between Harvey and Nate.

  “Well, I’d better get back to my desk.” Nate pushed back his chair. “See you later.”

  “’Bye,” Eddie said, and Harvey nodded.

  “He working on ID theft?” Eddie asked.

  “No, we had a new cyber stalking complaint this morning. I put him on that.”

  “Who’s going to do those when Nate’s gone?”

  “I don’t know. Probably me.” Harvey rubbed the back of his neck and stretched a little. He picked up half of his BLT and took a bite. The diner staff made good sandwiches, but he would rather be at home, eating lunch with his wife, Jennifer.

  The waitress brought Eddie’s burger and set the platter, laden with fries, in front of him.

  “Wow, that was quick,” Eddie said.

  Brooke grinned. “I saw you coming. What are you drinking today?”

  “Just coffee. Thanks.”

  After she had filled his mug and stepped away, Eddie lifted the top half of his bun and frowned at his burger before adding a dollop of ketchup.

  “Where are you going to pick this guy up?” Harvey asked.

  “Fox Street. He’s supposed to be at work.”

  “Take Jimmy with you.”

  “Jimmy?” Eddie paused with his burger halfway to his mouth. “Not Tony?”

  “I want to get Jimmy out of the office. He’s a little blue.”

  “What about?”

  “Nate.”

  Eddie shrugged. “They’ve worked together a long time.”

  “Yeah. I think Jimmy figured now that they’d both made detective, they’d stick together until they retired. He wasn’t figuring on Nate being such a hit with the educators.”

  “He does a great job when he goes out and talks at schools.”

  “Yeah. If he keeps one kid from getting tangled up with an online predator, then I’d say he’s doing the best thing. That’s a lot better than trying to catch the jerk after it happens.”

  A girl walked slowly up the sidewalk. She caught Harvey’s attention because she eyed the diners as she approached. She wasn’t roaming aimlessly or headed somewhere. She was looking for someone when she ought to be in school.

  He took in her worn jeans, high-topped sneakers, and unzipped navy hoodie, but mostly he noticed her bushy, shoulder-length hair and her wary blue eyes. When her gaze met his, she stopped walking, one thumb hooked through the strap of her backpack. She looked down at her phone and then back at him.

  Harvey frowned and picked up his sandwich. He had the feeling she was looking for him, but he couldn’t imagine why. Teenage girls rarely sought him out.

  “Okay, I’ll take Jimmy,” Eddie said. “What about Tony?”

  “You can take him, too. You might need him.” Harvey glanced at the girl. She had a determined expression, and she took a step in their direction. “Heads up.”

  “What?” Eddie stopped short of sipping his coffee.

  “Company,” Harvey said softly. The girl was nearly to their table. He looked up and met her gaze. “Hello,” he said with a noncommittal smile. “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Harvey Alan Larson?”

  Harvey hesitated just long enough to process that. Harvey Larson, yes, or maybe Captain Larson, but what high school girl knew his middle name?

  “Yes, I am. May I ask who you are?”

  She swallowed hard. “My name is Leah Viniard.”

  Harvey nodded. “Nice to meet you, Leah. Did you want to see me about something in particular?”

  Eddie stared at the girl, and Harvey could almost hear the gears clicking in his brain as he analyzed her appearance and her words. He felt the oddity of the situation, too.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I’m pretty sure you’re my father.”

  *****

  “Daddy, can you fix my car?”

  Peter Hobart set down his fork and reached out for the tiny toy Mustang his six-year-old had brought him. One wheel was missing.

  “What happened, Andy? Did you have a blowout?”

  “Yeah.” The little boy frowned up at him. “It needs a tire.”

  “I see that. Where’d you lose it?”

  “In my room.”

  “Did you look for it?”

  Andy nodded.

  Peter looked up as his wife refilled his coffee mug. “Thanks.”

  “I can look for it later,” she said. “If I don’t find it, maybe I can empty the robot vacuum and set it loose in there.”

  Andy pouted his lips and stared accusingly at Peter. “You have a car store. You can fix it.”

  He smiled. “Sure, I’ll ask the guys in the parts department if they’ve got one of these wheels in stock.” If Abigail didn’t turn up the missing part, maybe he could find a place online that sold Hot Wheels components. Short of
that, he could surely find a replacement car on eBay. “Now, get ready for school,” he told Andy. “We leave in ten minutes.”

  “Who’s taking us?” Gary, his ten-year-old, was just finishing his cereal.

  “I’ll drop you off this morning, and Abigail will pick you up after school and take you to Grammy’s. Remember? You’re staying over there tonight.”

  Andy grinned. “Oh, yeah, because you and Mommy have a date.”

  “That’s right.” Peter sipped his coffee. A one-year wedding anniversary was worth a big celebration, and he intended to give Abigail an evening to remember. “Make sure you leave your p.j.s and anything else you want to take on your bed for her to pack.”

  “Look for me out front at 3:15,” Abigail said.

  “Gotcha.” Gary got up and carried his dishes to the counter and then left the kitchen.

  Peter wished Gary would call his stepmother Mom. Andy had called her Mommy since the day they announced their engagement, but Gary still called her Abby, like most people did. After the boys had left the room, Peter smiled at her.

  “Don’t work too hard on the toy wheel. I ought to be able to replace it.” He tucked the crippled Mustang into his pocket. It wasn’t a huge thing, but he would do whatever he could to remain Andy’s hero.

  Abigail leaned over and kissed him. “You’re a good daddy. But you’ve got a lot of other things on your mind.”

  Peter shrugged. His biggest concern right now was Carter Ulrich, one of his salesmen at the auto dealership. “I plan to sit down with Carter today and find out what’s going on with him. And I might ask Mom to take a look at the financial files.”

  Her forehead creased in a frown. “You think Carter’s monkeying with the books?”

  “Not really, but he’s been asking for overtime and pushing customers on sales—I told you about that. His attitude yesterday was so odd that I reviewed his commissions.”

  “And?”

  “He seems on track for the last couple of months, but I want to make sure everything’s good before I talk to him. I can’t have him getting pushy with the customers.”

  Abigail nodded. “I’m sure if there’s anything wrong with the books, Vickie can spot it.”

  “Yeah.” Peter’s mother had been the bookkeeper since his dad started the family business nearly thirty years ago. She’d retired herself a couple of years before Peter and Abigail were married, and he had a new bookkeeper now. But his mom was still savvy, and he trusted her implicitly.

  Gary poked his head in from the living room. “We going?”

  Peter pushed back his chair. “Yeah.” He reached for his wife and a goodbye kiss. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart. And I’ll see you about quarter past five.”

  *****

  Harvey looked deep into the girl’s blue eyes. She couldn’t hold his gaze, but sniffed and looked down at the table.

  “What makes you think you’re my daughter, Leah?” he asked, keeping his voice as neutral as he could. Across from him, Eddie was watching him closely, and his lips twitched as though he wanted to say something.

  “I. . .well, your name is on my birth certificate.” She finished on a more confident note and lifted her chin to lock eyes with him.

  “Really?” Harvey’s brain raced, though he already knew the answers to most of his questions. He sent up a quick silent prayer and managed to smile. “I can tell you with no doubt whatever, that I am not your father. As to the birth certificate, I have no explanation, but if you want to sit down and discuss it, maybe we can figure this thing out.”

  She hesitated, then pulled out the wrought iron chair Nate had vacated. The backpack slid off, and she plunked it on the brick sidewalk and sat down, throwing Eddie a wary glance.

  “You want me to vacate, Harv?” Eddie asked.

  “No, stay.” Harvey took a drink of his coffee, set the mug down, and smiled at Leah. “By the way, Leah, this is my friend, Eddie Thibodeau.”

  Eddie nodded at her, but Leah glanced at him and then ignored him.

  Harvey said, “So, tell me a little about yourself.”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “For starters, how old are you?”

  “Fifteen. I’ll be sixteen in October.”

  He nodded, doing some mental calculations. “And who is your mother?”

  “You mean my real mother?”

  He’d almost expected that and took it in stride. “Your biological mother.”

  “Her name was Tara Ervin when I was born.”

  Harvey rubbed his scratchy chin. “That name doesn’t ring a bell.” He caught a sheen in her eyes. She was more nervous than she wanted to let on, and probably angry with him for denying the relationship out of hand.

  “She died about six months ago,” Leah said. “I didn’t know, but I got a packet of papers from a lawyer a few weeks ago. That’s when I found out about you.”

  “About your biological father,” Harvey said gently.

  “That’s you.”

  He pulled in a slow breath. “Leah, I’m not sure why the name on your birth certificate is the same as mine, but I’m pretty sure it’s either incorrect, or it’s referring to someone else with the same name.”

  “There’s not that many.” Her voice held a stubborn edge.

  He nodded. “That’s true, there aren’t many men named Harvey Alan Larson who would be the right age to be your father.”

  “I found you online.”

  That wasn’t surprising. As captain of the Portland Police Department’s Priority Unit, Harvey had an online presence he hadn’t sought. His occasional press conferences and role in solving some high-profile crimes made him easy to find. She’d probably been comparing his face with a picture a few minutes ago before approaching him.

  “I don’t suppose you have the birth certificate with you?” he asked.

  She lowered her eyelashes. “Why do you want to know?”

  “I’d just like to take a look at it.”

  She looked up then, defiant. “You know I could get another copy if you destroyed it.”

  “I wouldn’t do that. I won’t keep it, either. I’d just like to see it.”

  For a moment she sat still, gazing at him with suspicion.

  “Listen to him,” Eddie said. “Harvey’s a good guy, and he won’t do anything to your paper.”

  She didn’t acknowledge Eddie, but she bent and unzipped her backpack. She pulled out a folded sheet of paper, hesitated, then put it on the table near Harvey’s plate.

  “Thanks,” he said. “Have you had lunch?”

  Leah shook her head.

  “Would you like a sandwich?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “They make good burgers,” Eddie said. “Let me get you one.”

  She glanced at Harvey again, then back at Eddie. “Well, okay. I guess.”

  “Great,” Harvey said. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Coke?”

  “Sure.” Harvey took out his wallet and gave Eddie a ten-dollar bill. “Thanks, Ed.”

  Eddie moved off toward where Brooke was waiting on the uniformed officers at another table. Harvey opened the birth certificate and noted the embossed seal near the bottom. After perusing the information, he looked up. Leah was staring at him.

  “So, you were born in Lewiston,” he said.

  She nodded. “Apparently so.” She hadn’t known any of it. His heart went out to her.

  “Do you live up there?”

  “In Lisbon.”

  It was fairly close to Lewiston. “When were you adopted?”

  “When I was two days old.”

  “And when did you find out?”

  She looked away, and when she spoke, her voice caught. “The day I got that in the mail.”

  It seemed odd to Harvey. “Your parents hadn’t told you anything? Your adoptive parents, I mean. They didn’t tell you that you were adopted?”

  “No.” Her face scrunched up, and she batted at her cheek with the sleeve of her hoodi
e. “I thought they were my real parents. And then I get this.” She jerked her chin toward the paper. “Apparently my. . .mother. . .put it in her will for her lawyer to send me that stuff if she died.”

  “So, it wasn’t a closed adoption.”

  “I don’t know what it was. My mom—Mrs. Viniard—said that she—Tara—couldn’t take care of me, and they adopted me. They gave her some money. What kind of person buys a baby?”

  The tears filled her eyes now, and Harvey wanted to touch her and offer some comfort, but that would be a mistake. It was so easy to have good intentions misread.

  “I’m sorry, Leah. And I’m sorry you found out that way. It’s not uncommon for adoptive parents to give a birth mother money for her expenses, though. That doesn’t mean it was an illegal transaction.”

  She sniffed and batted her eyelashes, as if trying to whip the tears into line. “It came in a sealed-up packet with ‘To my daughter’ written on the front. I don’t know if the lawyer even knew what was in it.”

  Harvey nodded, wishing he could take away the hurt. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll see what I can find out about Tara Ervin.”

  Leah’s lower lip quivered. “Her name was Tara Leland when she died, so I guess she got married sometime.”

  “That’s good to know.” Harvey took out his pocket notebook and wrote down the name and a few bits of data off the birth record. “Do you know where she lived?”

  “Portland, I guess. That’s where the lawyer was, anyway.”

  “Do you have the envelope it came in?”

  “Not with me.”

  “Okay. How about the lawyer’s name? Do you remember that?”

  She looked across the street as if the answer was posted over there. “Jasper or Jacobs, something like that.”

  Harvey clicked mentally through the attorneys he knew. “Not Jarvis?”

  Her gaze met his. “Yeah, that’s it. You know that guy?”

  “I’ve seen him in court.” At her baffled look, he explained, “I’m a police officer. Sometimes I have to testify in court about people I’ve arrested.”

  “I guess I knew that.” Her mouth drooped. She was probably disappointed that he didn’t have a personal connection with the lawyer.