Chapter 35

  

I felt the tip of the gun barrel press against my spine. “Keep going,” the voice behind me said. My knees almost buckled but I steadied myself.

A small porch fronted the house and offered slight covering to the massive and windowless front door. A light came on over the door, then went off again.

“We’re here,” shouted the voice behind me. The door opened. A tall figure stood in the doorway. “Bring her in,” said the figure, retreating back into a dark hallway. The tall figure turned and moved down the hall. The gun pressed me in through the door and down the hall to a lighted room. As I passed through the hall, I noticed two closed doors, one on the right, one on the left, and a stairway to the left.

We entered a kitchen. The tall man had his back to me and did not turn, but there was something familiar about his stance. He was taller than Shelby. But he was not Froman. The shoulders were wide but not wide enough. He put his hand up. He must have covered his mouth because the words came out muffled and exaggerated. “Sit her down and face her toward the stove, away from the table.”

I knew that voice. With his attempt to disguise it, I couldn’t quite place it. But I knew this man, and sooner or later he’d figure that out and then I would pay for that knowledge.

The gun directed me to the chair and I sat. I felt the tall man come up behind me and pull my arms back and tape my hands together. Cloth that felt like a dishtowel came over my head and across my eyes and ears. Hands tied the towel tight and the knot caught my hair.

“Ouch.”

“Shut up,” said the watchman with the gun.

Hands lifted the edge of the towel and stuffed what felt like wads of paper toweling into my ears. But I could still hear him say, “Tell her to be quiet and not make a move. I’m going outside to check for others.” It was harder to hear but I was beginning to figure out his voice.

“She was calling someone on her sat cell when I caught her. She called him Joe.”

God, where was Joe? He must be trying to find me. He must have found the road and the Jeep by now. He must have called Wynan and Shelby to help him find the house. Where was Shelby? The voice behind me was not Shelby’s, so that meant he was somewhere else.

I heard a door open and close.

Minutes passed with no sound but the faint breathing of the man with the gun. I heard the scrape of a chair being pulled across a hard floor. The door opened and closed again.

“No one out there. And it’s pitch dark now.” How did I know that voice? I struggled to identify it. Another chair scraping on the floor. Then I felt tape going around my ankles. “Okay, lady,” said the voice of the watchman. “Now tell us what the hell you are doing here.”

He was letting his watchman talk for him. He knew me, too. Was he pretending not to know me? “My boyfriend and I were camping out here,” I said, trying to keep my own voice from trembling.

“Bullshit,” said the watchman. “No one camps out here. It’s private land.” I head another scraping of something like metal on wood. The gun on the table?

“We wanted to camp near the lake and go fishing in the morning.” My breathing was labored.

“More bullshit,” said the watchman. “You were a quarter mile away from the lake when I found you on the road. And you had no equipment.”

I struggled to maintain the fiction I’d started. “I was looking for wood for a campfire.”

I waited for a response.

Finally, the voice of the tall man. “Go get the Jeep and bring it around to the back of the house. I don’t know where her boyfriend is, but we need to get her off the property now.” Definitely not Froman’s voice. Oh my God. I knew who he was.

A chair scraped. The heavy tread of a man wearing boots. The door opened and closed. I sensed the tall man near me. I needed to calm down. My mind wasn’t working because I was too damned scared. What would they do to me? What had they done to Jamie? What about Joe out in the dark woods, not knowing about where I was, and worse, not knowing about the watchman with the semi-automatic?

I wanted to ask them if Jamie was here, but I was terrified that they would kill me right away if I betrayed my reason for being there.

I waited for him to speak again. I wanted to be certain. Silence.

I waited to hear the sound of the Jeep. Again, silence.

Ten minutes and still no sound of the Jeep. The chair scraped the floor, and again, the heavy tread of a man in boots. A door opened.

“Shit, what the hell…” A loud groan and I heard a fall. A loud bang against the stove. I felt a body fall against my legs and then move off again. Then I heard two voices. One was Wynan’s. “Where’s my granddaughter, you son of a bitch?”

Another was Joe’s near me. “Steady yourself, Red. Hold on. I’m going to rip off this tape on your wrists.” The towel came away from my eyes.

I saw Wynan with his hands around the throat of a man taller than he was.

They moved back and forth like two great animals.

Wynan raised a fist and smashed it into the man’s face, knocking the man to the floor and sending one of the chairs sailing across the room.

Joe freed the tape from my hands and lifted me to my feet. He held my arms tightly in his hands and stared at me. “Jesus, Red. Damn it, this was close. Too close.” He was furious. But I didn’t care. We were all still in danger.

“Joe, where’s the watchman? He has a gun.”

“We captured him by his Jeep. Shelby’s got him trussed up like a Christmas turkey. He’s guarding him with the gun he was carrying.”

Behind me, a fist cracked against bone. Wynan shouted. “Where is she? I swear I’ll rip your head off.” Another punch. I turned in time to see the tall man fall to the floor holding his hand across his face. Blood poured from behind his hand and down his chin. Now I was sure. “Joe, I know him. I know who…”

A woman’s voice screamed from another room. “Grandpa, I’m in here! Grandpa, it’s Jamie.”

Jamie, my God.

Joe released me and we all ran into the hall. Wynan beat on the door. “Jamie, stand away from the door,” shouted Wynan.

Joe stood back and gave the door a kick. The door held. Wynan turned around, kicked backwards like a mule, striking the door just below the doorknob. He kicked so hard he almost lost his footing. The door gave in. Behind it stood a girl with black curly hair and large eyes flooded with tears. She was in her grandfather’s arms before Joe and I could turn back to the kitchen.

The tall man was sitting on the floor, holding his jaw. He lifted his head and I held my breath looking at the tear-stained and bloodied face of Ezra McCready.