Free Hatfield and McCoy by Heather Graham Page A

Taylor said suddenly.
    They all started. The children had been so quiet that Julie had forgotten Taylor and Tammy had been listening. Now they stared at the handsome boy with McCoy’s steel-gray eyes.
    â€œWhat was that, Taylor?” Brenda said to her son.
    â€œI’m talking about the kidnapper. He must know something about the people around here, right? He wanted Uncle Robert to carry the case. And maybe he knew something about Julie.” He stared at his uncle. “He meant to kill the little girl he kidnapped, right? He meant to kill her all along. So why cover his face to Tracy? Unless he knew that Julie was going to be called in, and that she might be seeing him through the little girl’s eyes?”
    They were all dead silent for the longest time, staring at Taylor in amazement.
    His words had made so much sense.
    â€œWell, I’ll be darned,” McCoy said softly. “That’s great reasoning, Taylor.”
    Taylor flushed, pleased. McCoy tousled his hair. “Of course, it’s possible, too, that the kidnapper knew that he was running the risk that Tracy might be found before she did run out of air.”
    â€œMaybe,” Julie murmured. Then she suddenly gazed at Brenda, feeling guilty. “And maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this all in front of your children—”
    â€œAre you kidding?” Brenda demanded. “I want them to know what happened, and what almost happened. That way, they’ll watch out for one another, and they’ll be doubly careful. It’s not the same world we grew up in, Julie. Children have to be aware of the maniacs out there. They have to be. For their own safety.”
    â€œWe’re very careful, Mom. Aren’t we, Taylor?” Tammy demanded.
    Taylor nodded. “I’m right about the kidnapper, though. I know it. He’s not afraid of his victims seeing him. He’s afraid of Julie seeing him.”
    A chill streaked along Julie’s spine. Was Taylor right?
    McCoy groaned. “Not another psychic, please. This is all getting unbearable.”
    â€œYou know your uncle doesn’t believe in psychics,” Brenda reminded her son gently.
    â€œYou don’t believe in Julie?” Tammy asked.
    â€œNot a whit,” McCoy replied pleasantly. “Where is the waitress? We could use more coffee.”
    â€œAnd we could use more milk,” Tammy agreed. “But if you don’t believe in Julie, why did you make her come to breakfast?”
    Brenda gasped. Julie felt a grin tugging at her lips, then she felt McCoy’s eyes on her again.
    â€œWell, she is attractive, isn’t she?”
    â€œBeautiful,” Taylor agreed, and then blushed. Julie felt her cheeks growing red. McCoy could be so light and personable one minute, and then come down like lead the next. She could almost like the man, and then …
    â€œThe most beautiful charlatan I’ve ever come across,” he said smoothly.
    â€œMaybe I can entice the waitress to serve the coffee over his head,” Brenda murmured. “Robert—”
    Julie had had enough. She was suddenly heedless of Brenda and heedless of the children. She leaned closer to McCoy. “If I’m such a charlatan, how did we find that little girl?” she demanded.
    â€œLuck, maybe,” he replied, his gaze hard. “Perhaps you even noticed him going through town. Maybe you saw someone with a spade heading for the cemetery.”
    â€œI don’t even live in town!”
    â€œMaybe a friend mentioned it.”
    â€œBut I didn’t know it was a cemetery. You’re the one who found the cemetery, McCoy!”
    â€œLook, I’m not trying to say that you lie on purpose—Hatfield. But perhaps you build on some sort of suggestion in your mind—”
    â€œI was with that child, and you know it!”
    â€œWell, her parents think so, and that’s enough, isn’t it? Petty is fooled.” He