T Novan: Exposure Season 4

Tears engulf her again, but I pull her to me. To hell with the eggs. I reach over and turn the burner off under them. The sausages continue to cook in their own grease.

She is almost cried out when the intercom rings, announcing another visitor coming up. Papa pokes his head in the doorway. "It’s Special Agent Donovan."

I try not to get my hopes up too much. It could be anything. It could be nothing. I’ve quickly learned in this game that expectations lead to disappointment.

Kels is taking the biscuits out of the oven when Kyle enters the kitchen. The FBI agent smiles and rubs his stomach. "God, that smells good."

"You’re welcome to breakfast," Kels says. "We made plenty." She gives a small, bewildered shrug. "I don’t know why we made so much. It’s not like any of us have any appetite."

"I might be able to help with that."

The baking tray falls to the kitchen floor, but miraculously most of the biscuits stay on it. We both bend down to pick them up when Mama comes in. "I’ll take care of it. You two talk to Kyle."

The three of us sit at the table and are immediately joined by Robie and Papa. "I have good news. As you know, we have been trying to discover where and what type of vehicle Mrs. Stanton used to take the twins away. Our initial search focused on rental car companies. We came up empty. We then broadened our search to include newly leased vehicles."

"Oh, my God," Kels whispers, sensing something important. She reaches out and grabs hold of my hand tightly.

"We now know what vehicle she’s driving."

"What is it?" Papa asks, more out of curiosity than need to know.

"A Jeep Grand Cherokee."

I finish expressing my breast milk yet again. If I don’t keep up with the twins’ regular feeding schedule, my milk will start to dry up. Also, my breasts ache when I don’t. So, six times a day, for a little under twenty minutes, I prepare two eight ounce bottles of milk.

After five days, our freezer now holds sixty bottles ready for my babies. Robie keeps getting sent out to the drug store to buy more. I made Harper throw out all the ice cream and frozen vegetables. I don’t care about any of that. My babies will be well fed when they come home.

Rene joins me in the room, holding Kelly in her arms. "She wanted to spend time with her favorite aunt."

I take her carefully. She’s as big as Brennan and Collin despite being a month younger. The difference between twins and singles is amazing. "Where are the boys?"

"Still sleeping. They were up late last night. Tante Harper, the evil one, set up her PlayStation 2 on the TV in Brian’s room. The boys played until late. All three of them."

Some things are just written in the Kingsleys’ genetic code. I wonder what our little munchkins will do to us one day.

God, please let me find out.

Day six. Langston called today. I could tell he wanted to ask when we’d be coming back to work. I never gave him the opportunity. Like I care about producing a damn thing while my children are gone. Some people bury themselves in work during a crisis. Not me. I bury myself in my family.

I try to tell myself that it’s not wrong to smile at Clark’s stumbling gait, or to go through a thousand knock-knock jokes with Christian, or to coo at little Kelsey. It still feels wrong. Like I’m betraying my two little ones.

Kendra and Frankie stopped by earlier today before going into the studio. It was good to see them, but painful. Everything is painful without Brennan and Collin.

I kiss Kels’ temple. She’s leaning against my chest, and we’re watching the fire. In fact, all the Kingsley couples are in this exact same position. If it were a happier situation, we’d be toasting s’mores for the hell of it.

The phone rings, and we all tense. I spring to my feet and rush to the kitchen. None of us have given up hope yet. If I did, I would die.

"Yes?" I answer the phone. Kels comes into the kitchen behind me. I cover the mouthpiece and tell her, "It’s Kyle." This is either good news, bad news, or no news at all.

"We found her."

My knees give out, and I barely catch myself on the counter. "The twins?" At my question, Kels clutches my arm.

"We believe they’re fine."

"What do you mean you ‘believe’ they’re fine? Why don’t you know?" Kels’ grip on my arm tightens. I want to reassure her, but I can’t. I still don’t know.

"We found Katherine about an hour ago. We wanted to make sure she didn’t have anyone else with her and also that she didn’t have any weapons," he explains. "We believe that she’s alone, and that the cabin is safe. We have seen her carrying one of the babies."

Please, let them both be all right. "Where are you?"

"Vermont. Near Stowe."

"We can be there in a few hours." I love having my own plane. Especially if it takes me to my babies. Hell, I’d crawl.

"Fly into Burlington. We’ll have a car there to bring you where we are."

"When are you going in?"

"It’s early yet. We want Katherine to put the twins down for the night before we do. That way they’re away from her. Obviously, we can’t go in with gas, so we want her to be in another room, if possible, to minimize any danger to them."

That makes sense. "We’re leaving now." I turn to find a sea of expectant faces. "They found the bitch. The babies are with her. They seem to be fine. The FBI is waiting for her to go to sleep before they go in."

My wife is in tears, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. I take her in my arms and hold her tight against my breast. "We’re going to go get them, sweetheart. Our babies are coming home," I whisper in her ear.

She grasps onto my shirt, pulling me closer still. "They’re coming home."

Her words tear at my heart. Home. This will be a home with them here again. "That’s right, chér. How do you feel about a little trip?"

"Anytime. Anyplace."

I tilt her jaw up and place a soft kiss on her mouth. "Let’s go then."

The plane ride is the longest hour in our lives. We may need to replace the carpeting in the aisle. Kels and I wore it out pacing back and forth. Mama and Papa were only able to get us to sit during take off and landing.

Hustling off the plane, we rush to Special Agent Susan Sawyer, Kyle’s partner. "Do you have them yet?" Kels blurts out. It’s almost nine o’clock in the evening. Surely Brennan and Collin are asleep by now.

Agent Sawyer nods her head. "Yes, ma’am. After the suspect placed both of your children down for bed, we went in. Both appear to be fine. I’m here to take you to the hospital where they are being examined."

Hospital. Safe. Away from the psycho bitch from hell.

Safe.

Safe.

"And we’re standing here talking about it, why?" Kels asks, her voice tight with emotion.

Sawyer smiles compassionately. "No reason that I know, Mrs. Kingsley. Let’s go."

We all pile into the SUVs that are waiting for us. Mama and Papa get into the one behind us, leaving us alone with Sawyer and a local cop as our chauffeur.

I am stunned. This is all so sudden, if that makes any sense. Six days of hell. One hundred forty-four hours of hell. Eight thousand six hundred and forty minutes of hell. And, now, it’s all over.

Thank God for that.

My arms are full of Kelsey. We’re practically one skin now. My lips are moving against her cheek, kissing her and whispering words of gratitude. We’re almost complete once again.

"They’re okay, Tabloid," she whispers against my skin. "Our babies are okay. We’ll soon be taking them home where they belong."

"Damn straight." I glance up at Sawyer. "How did you trace them up here?"

Sawyer blushes. "I hate to admit it, but it was that security firm your father hired."