Chapter 61

Neither Rachel nor Carl made small talk as Shadow led them the way Bobby had come. As they walked, Rachel checked her gun, making sure every chamber was loaded.

“I did not know your father,” Carl said, “but I think any man would be proud to have you as a daughter.”

There were several sharp retorts Rachel could have and would have made had he not just found her son.

“Thanks,” she said. “I think we should be getting close. It can’t be much farther if a six-year-old was able to walk it. Turn off your flashlight. I don’t want them to look out the window and see lights coming.”

With the flashlight off, she could see a faint house light up ahead. “Stay here,” she instructed. “I’m going to see if I can tell from the outside where Ezra is located.”

“Then what?”

“Then I’ll call in the Millersburg police for backup and go after him.”

The old farmhouse was so isolated that the inhabitants were apparently not in the habit of pulling the blinds. Lights were blazing from within the house, and it was easy to find a vantage point to see in. Ezra and Greta were in the living room.

Greta had her hands on her hips and was yelling at Ezra. The old windows were single-paned, and Rachel could hear most of the words. Greta was browbeating Ezra for Bobby’s escape.

Ezra was cowering against a wall. Being yelled at was not something that happened in Naomi and Luke’s house. Seeing that sweet child’s fear infuriated Rachel.

It would be another hour before she could begin to expect the FBI. Still watching the house, she drew her cell phone out of her pocket and started to dial 911—until someone grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

It was a large man, and he appeared very angry.

“Where did you come from?”

“You’re Junior,” she said.

“Yeah. And this is private property. Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

He was outside, Ezra was inside, and she had stupidly waited too long to call the Millersburg police. She took one step back and pulled her gun from where it nestled against the small of her back, training it on him. “Turn around and put your hands against that tree.”

“Why?”

“Because the child who escaped is my son, and the little boy inside is my best friend’s son.”

“Huh! I thought there was something wrong with him. Never saw an Amish kid act that way.”

“Turn around and put your hands against the tree.”

“So you’re the kid’s mommy.” Junior did not turn around, and he did not put his hands on the tree. “I’ll bet you never even shot that thing before. What is it, your boyfriend’s gun?”

At that moment, his sister came out onto the porch, firmly holding Ezra by his suspenders. “What’s going on out here?”

“Greta,” Rachel said, “bring Ezra over to me.”

Before Greta could answer or comply, Rachel was hit by a cramp. It was mild and she could still function, but she bit her lip, trying to conceal the pain.

Unfortunately, Junior had heard her small gasp. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said.

She didn’t say anything else because she felt another cramp coming on. Dear God! Why now? Unless she was mistaken, something was going terribly wrong.

A sly grin crept over the man’s face. “Not feeling so good, are we?”

“I’m fine.”

And at that point, a cramp hit that was so severe, no matter how hard Rachel tried to fight, that it doubled her over where she stood, panting, with her hands on her knees. The gun dangled from one hand as she gasped for breath.

Junior approached her. She weakly waved the gun in his general direction. “Stay away.”

Suddenly he was all business. “Get the rope, Greta.”

“You’ll never get away with this.” Rachel was finally able to stand up straight. She took a deep breath, brought the gun back up—and then another cramp hit and she doubled again. What was going on with her body?

“You can hardly hold your head up, let alone shoot me. Hate to tell you this, but you aren’t much of a threat.”

A harder cramp hit, knocking the breath right out of her. Rachel grew dizzy from the pain. Never had she felt so vulnerable or so useless. Junior came over and plucked the weapon right out of her hand, and there wasn’t one thing she could do to stop him.

Now, not only was she unable to save Ezra, but she was unable to save even herself. There was a heaviness in her abdomen she had never felt, and the worst pain she’d ever experienced kept ripping through her body.

“Tie her up,” Junior growled at Greta. “We’ve got to get out of here. I don’t know where that other kid is. He might bring somebody here.”

“Please,” Rachel gasped. “Please don’t.”

If they tied her up, she was afraid she would die from whatever was happening to her body and her unborn child.

“Sorry, sweetie.” Greta approached her with a length of rope. “But he gets real mad if I don’t do what he says.”

“Don’t do it,” Rachel said. “Please. I’m pregnant!”

“I gotta,” Greta said, beginning the process. “Like I said, he gets mad.”

Rachel tried to fight as the other woman began to tie her hands, but the cramps were coming on hard and strong now and she could no longer stand up. Her knees buckled.

“Now hold still, honey. Don’t make this difficult.”

“I need a doctor,” Rachel said. “Call an ambulance. Please, Greta. I won’t press charges about the abduction and you won’t face jail time if you’ll just call an ambulance for me. Whatever you do, don’t tie me up.”

Before Greta could completely immobilize her, Rachel heard a voice.

“Leave her alone.”

Rachel vaguely heard a gruff male voice through the blue-like pain she was experiencing. After she got through the next cramp, Rachel glanced up and saw Carl standing over her.

“And who are you, old man? Her grandfather?” Frustration and anger laced Junior’s voice.

“Me? I’m the man who murdered her father.” Carl stood with his fists clenched. “And I’m only going to warn you once…leave this woman alone. She’s been through enough.”

Rachel heard the sheer fury in Carl’s voice as he shielded her from Junior and Greta with his own body.

“You are warning me?” Junior, a big man in the prime of his life, started laughing. “What could you possibly do to me?”

Rachel, lay on the ground, her body convulsing. She bit the inside of her cheek until it bled as she tried to keep from screaming out in pain and fear.

She could hear Ezra sobbing, calling her name, begging Junior not to hurt her.

Then she heard a low whistle, and suddenly a heavy body exploded out of the woods and flew past her. She felt a moment of hope as she saw Carl’s dog running as silently as his name and as deadly as a bullet, straight at Junior.

“Don’t!” Carl yelled, as Junior raised the gun.

But then the Glock fired and caught the beautiful dog in midflight as he leaped. Shadow yelped in pain and fell to the ground. Carl roared with anger and went after Junior, who stood his ground with the gun now pointed at Carl.

That was when she knew that her father’s killer was going to die, and in spite of her own fear and pain, she suddenly and desperately wanted him to live.