Jordan Ellis took a bite of pepperoni pizza just as his phone rang. He washed it down with Dr. Pepper and grabbed the receiver.
“Yeah, this is Jordan.”
“This is Aaron Cameron. Ellen and Guy Jones are sitting with me in my office. Our perp hit again.”
“When?”
“A few minutes ago. Ellen found one of those sick poems and two more locks of hair in an envelope under her windshield wiper.”
“Did she see who left it?”
“No. But it’s definitely intended as a threat. The kidnapper wants her to report every detail of the story.”
“Tough.”
“Jordan, that’s not all. It says there’s something underwater at boat ramp five.”
“On Heron Lake?”
“Right. Says something missing took a dive. Heaven help us, I hope it’s not what it sounds like.”
Jordan sighed. “Did you say you were in your office?”
“Yeah. Want us to come to you?”
“Meet me at the lake. Call the game warden and the sheriff and have them meet us at boat ramp five. We’ll need equipment and divers.”
Heron Lake blended into the inky darkness, searchlights moving eerily beneath its surface, a helicopter circling overhead.
Ellen shivered as she stood with Guy, waiting to find out what was in the water.
FBI agents had taped off a sizable area at the top of boat ramp five, where it began its incline into the water. An ambulance sat ready. Equipment was available for pulling up whatever was down there. The flashing lights of law enforcement vehicles lit up the area where the access road had been blocked off.
The Kennsingtons and the Logans were wrapped in blankets, standing behind the yellow crime-scene tape. All eyes were on the lake.
“This is so creepy, Guy. Who would do this?”
“I know one thing: He terrorized the wrong woman tonight. He’s not getting that close to you again. Not as long as I have anything to say about it.”
Ellen turned and looked up at him. Guy stood like a fortress, his arms crossed, his hair whipped about by an icy wind blowing off the lake. She’d never seen him more resolute.
“I know you’re upset about what happened—”
“It won’t happen again,” he said. “Don’t worry. And no matter what they find down there, Ellen, it’s not your fault.”
She turned around and leaned her back against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. “I should have listened to my instincts,” she mumbled.
Chief Cameron walked over and stood next to them. “Rough night. Sorry you got drawn into this.” He pulled his collar up around his ears.
“I can only imagine how scared those girls must be,” Ellen said. If they’re still alive.
“Look, the divers are coming up.” Aaron took a step toward the lake.
Lights were swirling in the water around boat ramp five. One of the divers stood in shallow water, his mask pushed up on his forehead, his wet suit reflecting the flashing lights. Seconds later, four others divers surfaced.
“Well? What’s down there?” Jordan asked.
“Sir, we found a late model BMW—white,” said Mitch Crawford.
“And …?”
“And a car full of what appears to be science project materials. No sign of the girls.”
“Okay, let’s get this car up out of the water.” Jordan motioned for the driver of the heavy equipment to move.
“Sir?” Mitch Crawford lowered his voice. “There’s something really odd hanging from the rearview mirror—an unmatched pair of girls’ shoes. I thought you ought to know. The parents will probably notice.”
“Okay, Mitch. Thanks for the warning.”
Jordan stood with his arms folded, his fingers rubbing his chin.
Hal Barker came and stood next to him. “I heard.”
There was a long pause.
“We’ve got a real sick entertainer on our hands, Sheriff. Doesn’t fit the profile we put together.”
“What now?”
“I’ve dealt with only one other perpetrator like this. Let’s hope it taught me something.”
Jack sat in front of the gate, his ears at attention. He began whimpering.
Sherry glanced at Taylor, whose eyes were wide with terror. She turned off the flashlight and waited as the dreaded footsteps slowly descended the stairs. It seemed like an eternity until the bright beam of light rounded the corner and shone directly in her eyes.
“Are we awake?” Wayne patted Jack and scratched his ears. “I’m talking to you, ladies … answer me!”
Sherry dug her fingers into Taylor’s arm and took a deep breath. “Yes, we’re awake.”
Jack lunged at the front of the cage, snarling and baring his teeth.
Wayne grinned. “Jack, sit.”
The Doberman instantly obeyed.
“There now, that’s better. I see the three of you understand the house rules.”
Wayne unlocked the padlock and opened the gate. The girls tripped over themselves, scrambling to the back, while he dropped two sacks and two bottles of water on the floor.
“I’m taking Jack out for a quick bite. You two will be dining in.” He closed the gate, secured the padlock, and then led Jack into the darkness and up the stairs.
Sherry waited until the door closed and she heard footsteps on the creaky floor above them. She turned on the flashlight. “I’ve looked this place over, and I don’t think there’s any way for us to get out.”
“Do you think Wayne’s going to hurt us?” Taylor asked. “I can’t bear the thought of him touching me. What if—”
“Don’t start thinking that way. It’s like he’s getting some weird thrill out of scaring us. Why do you suppose he kidnapped us?”
“Probably for ransom,” Taylor said.
“Suppose I just came with the package?”
“I don’t know, Sherry. I’m terrified he’s going to hurt us. Probably the only reason he hasn’t is he knows my father will pay him anything he wants as long as I’m alive.”
“Well, I know one thing for sure: My family’s praying, and we have to trust God.”
“I want to, but what if He doesn’t get us out of here? What if—” Sherry put her hand to Taylor’s mouth. “No ‘what if’s’ allowed. Wayne doesn’t own me—God does. And He’s already paid a ransom for my life. Somehow this’ll all work out. Try not to think the worst. I’ve been praying a lot, and it’s helped. Maybe you should, too.”
“But I don’t know how to pray all day long. I keep saying the same things over and over.”
“That’s okay. It’s gotta be better than thinking about our circumstances. By the way, the hand gestures we’ve been using make sense, don’t you think?”
Taylor nodded. “Better than having Jack throw himself on the cage like a wild beast. I hate him. He’s horrible.”
“Well, God’s in control, not Jack the jerky Doberman.”
“You think God will get us out of here?” Taylor asked.
“He’s here with us. I know that.”
“But aren’t you scared? I’m so afraid …” Taylor started to cry.
Sherry put her arm around her friend, her heart pounding, her eyes clamped shut. “Lord, I believe You’re here with us. Please help us feel Your presence.”
Ellen sat in the family room, her body yielded to the comfort of a leather chair, her feet on the ottoman. She sipped hot tea and stared at the crackling fire.
“Are you finally thawing out?” Guy asked.
“What’s the latest?”
“Taylor’s car has been pulled from the lake and put into evidence. You’ll never guess what they found inside.”
“What?”
“A small listening device. Probably how the kidnapper knew the girls were driving to Ellison.”
Ellen shook her head. “How’d the parents react?”
“Not as bad as when they saw the girls’ shoes hanging on the rearview mirror.” Guy stood behind the chair and rubbed her shoulders.
“I felt so sorry for Mary Beth and Marita … having to identify the shoes. No mother should have to do that.”
“Jordan thinks the girls are still alive,” he said.
“I know.”
“You don’t?”
“I’m afraid to think too hard about it.” She sighed. “I guess the parents realize I’m in this now?”
“Jordan told them what happened tonight. They’re really sorry.”
Ellen got up and stood in front of the fire. “I’ve made a decision. I refuse to be silenced or manipulated.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to do what I should’ve done in the first place—report the story. Not because of the poem, but because it’s who I am. I can’t let Jordan or the kidnapper tell me what to do.”
“I don’t think that’s such—”
“Have you got a better idea? If I report the news the way I always do, the kidnapper will be satisfied, the community will be informed, and I’ll be able to look myself in the mirror.”
“Even if you antagonize the FBI? Ellen, you’re tired. Why don’t you get a good night’s—”
“Don’t patronize me. I’m not going to change my mind.”
“Why don’t you wait until tomorrow, see if you still feel the same?”
She shook her head. “I want all the facts on tomorrow’s front page.”
“You don’t have time.”
“Honestly, Guy, give me a little credit. I called Margie hours ago and had her hold the front page. All we had to do was include what happened tonight. The factual story was already written. We just didn’t print it.”
Wayne turned onto the gravel driveway, pulled the truck to the end, and killed the motor. He leaned forward and rested on the steering wheel.
“Yes!” He pumped his fist.
He waltzed in the front door and into the kitchen. He tossed his keys on the countertop, reached into the fridge, and popped open a can of Coke. A grin spread across his face. He began to laugh, and he laughed louder and louder until he was doubled over with euphoria.