Using his good leg, Jon leaped for solid ground just as the rickety stairway crashed to the rocks below—making enough noise to draw unwanted attention.
Knowing the cops could be here any moment, he struggled to his feet. He had to get to cover! Unable to run, he limped clumsily, dragging his bad leg down the path toward the Malcolm place when he heard the sound of footsteps running. Bracing himself for the worst, he looked for a place to hide—then realized it was Leah!
She immediately threw her arms around him. “You’re okay,” she whispered as she began helping him toward the cabin. “I was so scared. I thought you were goners on that stairway.”
“The stairway is gone.” He leaned into her, trying to move faster, but enjoying the closeness of her next to him. “Did you break in?”
“Mom and the girls are inside. As far as I can see there’s not an alarm system, either.”
“Good news.”
“And I found a landline, but it’s not connected.”
“Bad news.”
“Come on.” She tightened her hold around his waist, trying to move them faster. “Let’s get inside.”
“Yeah.” He tried not to groan in pain, but it felt as if someone had slipped hot coals and sharp knives beneath that bandage.
“You kept the lights off?”
“Yes. I left them in the laundry room. No window.”
She paused to open the back door. “Here we are.”
He felt the glass crunching beneath his shoes. “You’re getting to be quite the break-in artist. Maybe if the nursing thing doesn’t work out—”
“Very funny.” She closed the door behind them. “I want to clean up that glass just in case a cop comes by.” She guided him through the dark room that was probably a kitchen. “That door goes to the laundry room. Do you want to go in there while I clean up the glass and block the door with something?”
“You might as well leave the glass,” he said. “One look at the broken window and they’ll know we’re in here. You still have the guns?”
“Yeah.” She held up the revolver. “But I really don’t know how to use it. Don’t want to use it.”
“And you shouldn’t. But where’s the rifle?”
“I’ll get it.”
“I want to position myself somewhere I can keep an eye on the front and back doors.” He balanced himself against the counter. “That way I can warn you if I think they’re onto us.”
Leah tapped on the laundry room door. “It’s just me,” she said quietly. “Turn off the light so I can come in.”
He scoped out the house while she went into the laundry room. He could hear the murmuring sound of voices and it was obvious the girls and her mother were frightened. Who could blame them?
Jon finally decided the heavy table between the kitchen and great room was the best place to position himself. He could see both doors and many of the windows. He eased himself onto a stool, using a second stool to elevate his throbbing leg.
When Leah emerged, she handed him the rifle, which he laid across the table. “Do you really plan to use it?” she asked with a concerned frown.
“Not to kill anyone,” he explained. “Especially since it’s difficult to tell the bad guys from the good. But I’ll use it to hold off Krantz’s cohorts.”
“I need to get the girls and my mom some food and water,” she told Jon. “And some blankets to make them comfortable. We don’t want anyone going into shock.”
“Good thinking.” He sat down in one of the swivel stools that surrounded the table. “Think I’ll stay here. Good spot to watch everything. But I think you should stay in the laundry room, Leah. Just to be safe.”
“I’ll figure that out later,” Leah told him as she went to work, first getting everyone a glass of water. Then she went through a pantry until she rounded up some crackers, a jar of olives, some Vienna sausages, cans of sardines, bottles of fruit juice, packaged cookies and a few other things, which she distributed to Jon and the others in the laundry room.
After that, she scurried around the house, gathering up some blankets and pillows that she ran to the laundry, too, and like a mother, she reminded them to keep their voices quiet in there. Then she started going through kitchen drawers again.
“You remind me of the Energizer Bunny,” he told her. “I don’t know how you do it, Leah.”
“It helps not having a shot-up leg.”
“You need to eat something, too,” Jon pointed out.
“I know.” She reached for a Vienna sausage, then opened another kitchen drawer.
“What are you looking for?” he asked as he munched a fig bar.
“A phone book. Hopefully one with a government-listings page. I want to plug all the correct numbers into my text messages before I go out to the rock. That way they’ll get sent automatically. You know?”
Jon grimaced. He really didn’t like the idea of her going out there by herself, but he knew it was probably their best hope now. “You’ll be really careful, won’t you?”
“Of course. But I think I should get right to it, Jon. No time to waste. Before they figure out we’re here.”
“I agree.”
“Bingo,” she said as she held something up. “I’ll take the phone book to the laundry room so I can use the flashlight to see.”
“Before you go,” Jon said suddenly, “can you find me a paper and a pen? I want to write a note to put on the back door. In case the police come. In case there’s an honest one among them. I want to explain what’s going on in here. Why we have your mom and the girls—and Krantz’s role in this.”
“Good idea, Jon.” She went back to rummage through drawers, quickly locating a tablet and pen as well as some Scotch tape. “Can you see to write it without light?” She laid it in front of him.
“It won’t be easy, but I’ll try to make it legible.”
After Leah went into the laundry room, he attempted to write his note. Being an artist, he had pretty good penmanship. Still, he didn’t know what good it would do. But if an honest cop was the one to find and read it, it might help. And despite Hallie and Rosita’s convictions that there was no such thing as an honest cop in this town, he knew that was only based on their experience with three bad ones. Those had to be the exception. He also knew that even an honest cop could be dangerous if he thought he was going up against cop-killing criminals. It was simply the way they were trained. Jon understood and respected this.
But somehow he had to convince whoever read this note that they were innocent victims—and that Krantz was not. And in just a few words, too. If he’d ever needed good attorney skills, it was now. He wadded up his first attempt, then launched into another. He had just finished what seemed like a convincing letter when Leah emerged from the laundry room.
“All quiet on the western front?” she whispered.
“No sign of anyone or anything out there.” He frowned. “Surprising, considering the noise that crumbling stairway must’ve made.”
“God is helping us,” she told him.
“I hope so. We need it.”
“I got what I need all ready to be sent from your phone,” she said. “And I also learned the names of the other two cops that were helping Krantz. First names anyway. Brett and Gordie. And Krantz’s first name is Erik.”
“Brett and Gordie and Erik.” Jon jotted the names down on the pad.
“And she told me that she found the names of several other girls. They were written on one of the walls.”
“Kidnapped girls?”
“That’s what Hallie thought. A couple of the names sounded familiar.”
“The ones my mom had been researching?” he asked eagerly.
She nodded. “I put them in the phone, too.”
“We should write it all down, too,” he said. “Just in case.”
“I’ll ask Hallie to do that.” Leah took a sip of water. “Oh, there’s something else,” she said suddenly. “Hallie told me that they’re smuggling drugs, too. She heard someone say that they come in by boat from Mexico.”
“It figures.” He let out a deep sigh.
“Well, no time to waste, right?” she said brightly. Almost as if she were looking forward to this.
“Just be careful.” He held up his note. “And put this by the back door, okay?”
She took the page from him, then leaned over, whispering in his ear. “And just in case something happens...it’s been nice knowing you, Jon Wilson.”
“Oh, Leah, don’t talk like that.” He reached over to touch her cheek, amazed at how smooth it was.
“Well, anything could happen. You know that, Jon.”
“I know. But I really want to see you again.” There was so much more he wanted to say...so many words that felt stuck inside him. Would he ever get the chance? “Please, be careful out there.”
“I will.” She suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her head on his shoulder. “You, too. If they come knocking, please, don’t have a shoot-out.”
“I won’t.” As she was pulling away, he reached for her face, pulling it toward him. “Leah,” he whispered. “There’s still so much I want to say to you, when there’s time.” And then, for the second time, he kissed her. And this kiss wasn’t just in passing, either. Not a fluke. This time he kissed her with an intensity that he hoped she would understand. He wanted her to know that his feelings for her were real. He was even tempted to use the L word—love—yet the timing seemed less than ideal. “If anything happens to you, I’ll—”
“It won’t,” she assured him as she picked up his note. “I’ll be very, very careful, and I’m fast. I’ll be back in less than five minutes, Jon.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Unless something goes wrong.”
He groaned. “Don’t say that.”
“I mean if someone is out there,” she reassured him. “I might have to wait. If I’m not back in five minutes, don’t worry. It’ll just mean that I’m being very, very careful. Okay?”
“Okay.” He nodded with uncertainty. “Just be safe. That’s all that matters.”
She hurried to the back door, taping the note onto the outside of it before she slipped out, quietly closing the door after her. Disappearing into the night.
Even though Jon knew that the girls and Leah’s mom were nearby, still cloistered in the laundry room and whispering quietly to each other as they dined on their pantry picnic, he had never felt this alone before. It was as if Leah’s departure had taken everything good about life with her. As if there was nothing left without her. It was such an overwhelming feeling, he could hardly contain it. As if his life had lost its meaning without her.
He didn’t know what he’d do if she didn’t return...if anything happened to her. He couldn’t bear to think about it. And wished he could do something about it. But with his leg messed up like this, there was little he could do to help her. He didn’t like feeling this helpless. It wasn’t who he was. He remembered when he’d jumped on Krantz to help Leah, how strong and capable he’d felt. Although look where that had gotten him. At the moment, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself against an aggressive flea. Right now about the only thing he could do was to pray. Pray and hold the fort. If that were even possible.
After an earnest prayer he decided to write another note to post on the front door, if only to distract himself from worry. Leah could tape it up when she returned, or else he’d hobble over and do it himself. As he carefully scribed one similar to the other note, he chided himself. Why hadn’t he done this yesterday—when they were at his parents’ cabin? Maybe they’d be safe by now.
Except that if they’d been rescued, they never would’ve located Leah’s mom and the girls. Or, more likely, Krantz would’ve found and destroyed the note before anyone else had a chance to see it.
When Jon finished his second note, he felt certain that at least five minutes had gone by. More like ten. But Leah still hadn’t returned. On high alert, he looked out toward the front of the house. He hadn’t even noticed any lights going down the road. What was going on out there? Why would it take her so long? She was simply going to climb the rock and send the texts—that would take mere seconds—then sprint back here. Five minutes was plenty of time. After all, Leah was fast.
Unless she’d run into someone. He knew that was possible. What if she’d been found by one of Krantz’s buddies? Jon put his hand on the rifle. A lot of good that did him in here. He was no help to Leah. Oh, why had he let her go? Why hadn’t he insisted she remain here with him? They could’ve waited to see if his notes worked. Where was she anyway?
He was just about to get to his feet—not that it would do any good—when he heard the sound of gunshots. Three in quick sequence—bam-bam-bam—as if being shot from an automatic weapon. As if the shooter were sure of his target. And then nothing but silence—as if the bullets had hit their mark.
Jon leaned his head onto the granite countertop, biting back bitter tears as the possibilities assaulted him. Leah had been shot—that was the only explanation. She’d been spotted on her way to or from the rock and a cop—probably one with better aim than Krantz—had shot her. As much as he didn’t want to believe this, it seemed the only logical explanation. Leah had been shot. Please, God, don’t let her be dead.