Sweat pooled under Bridget’s arms. Her eyes darted around the back seat. Panic clouded her thinking. Something felt very, very wrong about all this. She could pull the door handle and jump out of the car. Two things gave her pause: the trees whizzing by outside the window and her younger sister in the front seat. She couldn’t leave her.
Bridget cleared her throat. “Liddie, we should go back. Mem and Dat are worried. We can go for a walk around the pond and talk like we used to.”
“No, I don’t want to go back yet. I want to hang out with Jimmy. You made us leave Buffalo before we got a chance to really get to know each other.” Liddie sounded like a petulant child.
“You were going to go home the next day anyway. You didn’t miss out on much.” Bridget tried to keep her voice even, not let on that she was trying to get away from Jimmy. Should she be worried?
There were a lot of bright blue cars, right? Just because Jimmy was in the courtyard prior to the fire in her apartment didn’t mean he caused it. Were they in danger or were her instincts off?
“Yeah, we’re not going back to the farm.” It was then he took off his baseball cap. Darkness flashed in the depths of his eyes. “And we’re not going to Jamestown.”
Goose bumps raced across her flesh.
“Where are we going?” Liddie asked, the first hint of apprehension replacing her excitement. Then she squared her shoulders.
“You’ll see.” Jimmy’s tone sounded ominous.
“But I thought...” Liddie let her words trail off.
“Why don’t you just take us back home? Our parents are worried.” Bridget did her best to keep her voice calm, not wanting to set Jimmy off.
Jimmy laughed and shook his head.
“Take us back home, Jimmy. I changed my mind.”
Bridget hated the way her sister was trying to cajole this man into doing the right thing, as if she had to be nice while he ignored her request. Bridget felt sick, fearing the situation was escalating quickly.
When Jimmy responded by pressing on the accelerator, Liddie started pleading in earnest, “Come on, Jimmy, stop. You’re scaring me.”
Jimmy lashed out, his fist connecting hard and firm with Liddie’s cheek. “Shut up!”
Liddie yelped and skittered away, confined by the seat belt. She held her hands to her face.
Hot fury exploded in Bridget’s head. “Leave her alone,” she growled.
Jimmy laughed again. “You can shut up, too.” He pulled out into the passing lane and went around a slower-moving car. “You should have left well enough alone at the clinic,” he muttered.
“Why are you doing this? It’s over. Dr. Ryan’s dead.”
“You’re joking right?” Disgust dripped from his tone. “You stuck your nose in where it didn’t belong. Now you’re going to be made an example of.” He reached over and dragged his knuckles across Liddie’s red check. “If you think of doing something stupid, I’ll kill your stupid sister.”
Liddie cowered in the passenger seat, making an awful whimpering sound.
What could Bridget do? She already ruled out leaping from the car. And if she tried to distract the punk, they’d go careening into a tree or another car. No, she couldn’t risk killing them or some unsuspecting driver.
Bridget stretched her foot and pushed her cell phone deeper under his seat, praying that Zach had gotten her location and was tracking her right now. She was grateful that a coworker had shown her that app, among others, while they ate lunch and chatted.
Jimmy suddenly took a sharp turn and bumped off the road into a field. The jarring turn made Bridget slam her head against the back passenger window. A clattering sound came from under the seat and her phone slid into view, but she couldn’t snatch it because she had to brace herself. The car came to an abrupt stop. Liddie groaned.
The second Jimmy put the car into Park, the locks automatically disengaged. Adrenaline propelled Bridget into action. She unclicked her seat belt, snagged her cell phone and pulled the door handle. The door sprang open. She jumped out. The tree line wasn’t far. She could make it. Hide.
Get Liddie first.
The whoosh of her pulse roared in her ears.
Bridget’s laser-like focus landed on Liddie still sitting in the front seat. Jimmy had her sister’s cheeks squeezed between his strong fingers. Her face was contorted in pain. Fear. The glee in his eyes mocked Bridget. He jerked his chin in a cocky gesture as if to say, Go ahead. Leave. I’ve got your sister.
Dear Lord, help us. Help us.
She dug deep, to the depths of her faith, still not seeing how they’d get away from this man. She let out a long, slow breath, and a strange calm washed over her.
Through the windshield she locked gazes with Jimmy. Her shoulders sagged, and she realized they had reached a silent understanding.
Bridget walked over to Liddie’s door and opened it, all sense of urgency lost. This wasn’t going to be Bridget’s escape, but if she complied, it might be Liddie’s. Bridget reached in and unbuckled her sister’s seat belt while her younger sister quietly sobbed. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Let’s get you out of here.”
Liddie looked up at her with a tearstained face. “I’m sorry. I thought he was a nice guy.”
“It’s okay.” She pulled Liddie into a fierce embrace, feeling the time slip away. “I love you.”
Liddie sobbed into Bridget’s shoulder.
Over her sister’s shoulder, Bridget tracked the man as he sauntered around the vehicle. He paused at the rear. The click of the trunk release forced Bridget into action. She didn’t have a deal with this man. He was ruthless.
“When I let you go,” Bridget whispered in Liddie’s ear, “run toward the trees. Run and don’t stop. Don’t turn around. No matter what.”
Liddie stiffened, and Bridget sensed her sister’s refusal before she had a chance to voice it. “Now!” Bridget shouted, shocking her sister into action. “Now!” She shoved Liddie toward the tree line, away from the menacing approach of this man.
Liddie tripped. She scrambled to her feet, found her footing and started to run, her forward momentum hampered by the weeds and hidden ruts.
Go, go, go.
Bridget’s gaze dropped to Jimmy’s hand. A gun! Her knees went to jelly. He lifted the weapon and pointed it at Liddie. A sinister smile tugged on half his mouth. “Should I go for her head or heart?”
Bridget held up her hands, forcing him to focus on her. “It’s me you want. Let her go. She’s harmless.”
He pivoted and aimed the gun at her. She spread out her fingers. “You don’t have to do this.”
Dear God, please protect me.
“You have no idea what you got yourself into, do you?” He tucked his gun into the back of his pants. His arm snaked out and snatched the phone out of her hand and threw it in the field. He grabbed the front of her T-shirt and twisted and pulled her close. His stale breath reeked of cigarette smoke.
“Please, please, please...” Tears clouded her vision, and panic made her stomach revolt.
Jimmy yanked Bridget forward. She struggled to gain purchase, but he was too strong. Too fast. The tops of her sneakers dragged across the muddy field. The lid of the trunk yawned open, his intent unmistakable.
“Please, please, please, don’t do this.”
Her hip slammed on the lip of the trunk as he forced her against it. She fought against his hand palming the back of her head. Her feet scrabbled in the mud, a desperate attempt to stop the inevitable.
“Stop struggling,” he said, his voice oddly calm. “Ralphie told me not to mess up your face. He wants to make sure I got the right person this time.” Had he killed Ashley by mistake? His fingers dug into her neck. The pain made it impossible to think clearly. He positioned her between his hip and the vehicle. He forced her arms behind her and cranked on a zip tie. Bridget’s racing mind flashed to Zach doing the same when he arrested the doctor.
Ugh, that hurt.
“Please, don’t.” Heat swept over her. Knowing this was her last chance, Bridget twisted and flailed. She bent one leg and kneed Jimmy, catching him in the gut. He doubled over in pain. She scrambled forward and lost her balance with her arms fastened behind her back. She fell forward, landing heavily on her shoulder with an oomph.
In a fit of rage, Jimmy grabbed her arm and picked her up handily. He tossed her toward the trunk, and her midsection slammed on the lip. He forced her the rest of the way in. Her arms were awkwardly bound behind her. His face shook in rage as he hovered over her. He pulled back his fist. “You brought this on yourself.”
Gritting his jaw, he punched her in the face like he had done to her sister. Her nose exploded in light and shocking pain unlike anything she had ever experienced. He muttered an expletive and slammed the trunk shut.
Bridget was shrouded in darkness.
All the fight had been beaten out of her.
The engine of Zach’s truck purred as he gained on Bridget’s location. Come on, come on, come on. The indicator on the GPS showing her location had stopped about ten minutes ago. He didn’t know if this was good or bad. At the very least, it gave him a chance to catch up.
As he drove beyond Hickory Lane, the occasional farm gave way to fields and trees. “Where are you, Bridget?” he whispered. “Where are you?” The remote location made him pause.
He slowed and double-checked the screen on his cell phone. He had gone past the little blue dot. Zach threw the truck into Reverse, twisted in his seat and rested his forearm on the steering wheel to stare out the passenger window. Trees thick with foliage blocked his view. Still in Reverse, he swerved over to the side of the road and jammed the gear into Park. He jumped out of the truck, keenly aware of the absolute stillness and his gun in its holster.
Why was Bridget’s location indicating this field?
An imagine of Kevin Pearson’s vacant eyes staring up at him from the empty parking lot flashed in his mind. Zach had had a bead on his location, too. What if he was too late? Don’t go there. Focus.
With the intensity of an undercover agent going into a stash house, Zach scanned the area. Fresh muddy tire ruts cut into the overgrown vegetation. An image of Bridget sprawled in the field gutted him. He had missed signs that his confidential informant was in danger. He hadn’t been there to save his sister. He had finally opened his heart to someone. Found a connection outside of work.
He would not let Bridget down. He could not...
A hint of a long-forgotten plea whispered across his brain. A prayer a Sunday school teacher had taught him back when his mother was sober enough to remember it was Sunday. He had admired Bridget’s faith through all of this.
Have a little faith...
Zach slid out his gun. He stalked toward the rustling in the field. He paused. The sound stopped. “DEA. Show yourself.”
Liddie’s tearstained face peered around the base of a tree where she had been hiding. “I thought you were him,” she said, bracing her hand on the bark and pulling herself to her feet.
“Are you alone?” Zach asked, constantly scanning the area.
“Yah.” The single word came out on a squeak.
He tucked his gun back into its holster and rushed through the tall weeds toward Liddie, extending his hand to help steady her. “Where’s Bridget?”
“He has her. He has her.” Liddie’s panicked gaze bounced around the overgrown field. One cheek had an angry red bruise.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded hesitantly.
“You’re safe,” Zach reassured her. If only he could say the same about Bridget. He plowed a hand through his hair. “Who has her? The guy from the pool back at Bridget’s apartment?”
Liddie narrowed her gaze in confusion. “Yah, it was him. I thought Jimmy liked me.” She looked up at him with terror in her eyes. Her lower lip quivered.
“He’s involved with whatever’s going on at the clinic. He was caught on surveillance.”
Liddie swung her hand in the direction of the field. “He tossed her phone out there. We need to find it.”
“Okay.” Zach grabbed his phone. He called Bridget’s number. Something caught his eye. He pushed the tall stalks aside with his foot until he reached the muddy tire tracks. His number displayed on a cracked screen.
He picked it up. “Got it.”
Liddie held out her hands for the phone, her only connection to her missing sister.
“Let’s get you in the truck.”
Even though it was a warm summer day, Liddie wrapped her arms around her midsection and shivered. Clumps of partially dried mud clung to the knees of her pants.
“You’re going to be okay,” Zach reassured her. “We’re going to find your sister.” He closed the passenger-side door and jogged around to his side of the truck. His pulse whooshed in his ears, reminding him that every fleeting second was another that Bridget was in danger. He yanked open his door and climbed in. “Was he driving a metallic blue muscle car?” He thought about the last photo Bridget had sent him.
Liddie nodded. “It’s really loud.”
“Tell me what happened. Did Jimmy mention anyone else? A location?” She kept shaking her head. He pulled out onto the country road and kept his eyes peeled for a vehicle that met that description, any sign of Bridget. He feared the kid had a good ten-minute head start.
Liddie retold the story of how she had befriended Jimmy when she had hung around the pool whenever Bridget was at work. They kept in touch by text. When she tried to explain why she had done what she had done, he gently touched her hand. “I’m not judging you. What we have to focus on now is finding your sister.”
“He shoved her in the trunk. She’s going to die and it’s all my fault.” Liddie’s growing hysteria was frazzling his nerves. He prided himself on his cool demeanor in a crisis, so his growing agitation was disconcerting. He found himself saying another prayer for Bridget’s well-being.
“I’ll find her.” Driving around here aimlessly was wasting time. “I’m going to make a few phone calls.” His supervisor had probably had time to run the plate from the photo. “Now that we have more information, we might be able to figure out where he’s hiding.”
Liddie sniffed back her tears.
“I’m taking you to the hospital.” He tightened and loosened his grip on the steering wheel.
“Neh, I’m fine.” She gingerly touched her cheek. “It’s just bruised. Take me home.”
“Are you sure?”
Liddie nodded. “You have to find Bridget.”
“Okay, okay... Now tell me, did Jimmy mention any names? Anything?”
Liddie stiffened and sat upright. She tapped her leg, as if the memory needed a moment to shake free. “He was screaming at Bridget.” Her voice cracked. “He mentioned a Ralphie.” She nodded. “Yah, a Ralphie.” She shrugged, appearing frail and tiny in the passenger seat. “I don’t know if that will help.”
“Every little bit helps.” Zach pulled into her driveway. “Go on in. I’ll find Bridget.”
Liddie pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I’ve made a mess of everything. I led him right to her.”
Her brothers emerged from the barn and started running toward his truck. “I have to go. Reassure your brothers.”
“We need our sister back.” Liddie paused at the open passenger door.
“Stay calm. Have your family gather in the house and lock the doors until I get word back to you.”
“What am I supposed to say?” Liddie plucked at her T-shirt with a dirty hand.
“The truth.” His nerves hummed. He needed to go. “Everything will be okay,” he added calmly.
Liddie gave him a watery smile. “You’re good for my sister. Maybe when this is all over, you can start courting.”
Zach laughed; he couldn’t help himself. “Courting, huh? Yeah, I’d like that.” His job wouldn’t make that easy.
The two brothers reached the truck. “Where were you?” Caleb asked. “Where’s Bridget? She went looking for you. Dat’s really mad.”
“Hold on.” Liddie held up her hand to her brother’s barrage of questions. “My phone is in Jimmy’s car. How will you reach me?”
“I’ll reach you,” he promised. He started to back out the lane when Jeremiah emerged from his little house. Zach flicked his hand in a wave, and the two men nodded in silent understanding. He’d allow Liddie to give her grandfather an update, but he had to make some calls. See if he could get a hit on this Ralphie guy. Bridget’s life depended on it.