The sound of Brock’s garage door raising interrupted the dawn’s quiet. He swiveled around and saw Sadie’s car driving fast toward the highway. In the semi-darkness he couldn’t tell who was driving or how many people might be inside the vehicle. Had something happened at his house?
He shot up from between the boulders and ran toward his garage where the door was still up. His rifle gripped in his hands, he entered his home through the kitchen, having no idea what he would find. As he made his way through the rooms, he berated himself for leaving. What if the thugs figured out that Sadie was at his place? At least the first floor appeared all right.
He ran up the stairs and into the opened doorway of his bedroom, flipping on the overhead light. Bella lay on the bed and perked up when he came toward her. She jumped down and followed him.
“This is when I wish you could talk.” Brock also wished he could have seen who was inside her car. He moved toward the connected bathroom and peered inside. No Sadie.
He returned to the hallway, checked his office, then the second bedroom. His brother lay sprawled across the coverlet in the clothes he had worn all day. Brock turned the switch on the wall and bright light wiped away all the darkness.
Simon groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. “Go away. It’s too early.”
“Sadie’s gone.”
His brother struggled to sit up, his forehead scrunched up. “Gone? Where?”
“I don’t know. Did the phone ring?”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
He wasn’t even sure Simon would have heard a loud noise, but Brock had to ask him. If no one had broken into his home, then why had Sadie left? Where would she go? “Get up. You need to watch this place and Katie’s while I try and find Sadie. If something doesn’t feel right, call the sheriff and then me.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to check Sadie’s duplex. Thankfully, last night she gave me her address in Butte City. That’s the only place I can think she would go to right now.”
Simon rolled to a standing position, his shoulder length, dark brown hair a mess. He finger-combed it. “What if Sadie calls here? What do I tell her?”
“Find out where she is and tell her to stay put. Then if she’s some place besides her house, let me know.” As he walked into the hallway, Brock added, “I have a shotgun where I keep my rifle. Keep it with you in case you’re confronted by someone, but don’t put yourself in a bad situation if the intruders return. Call Clay first. Then me.”
Simon followed Brock. “I will. Why would Sadie leave by herself?”
Brock kept walking toward the garage. “Most likely Sadie thinks that Katie might have contacted her again before she fled the house. She wouldn’t know unless she could get her text messages on her cell phone. Sadie can get impatient and act without thinking the situation through. I should have realized she might attempt it. Her connection with Katie is extremely strong. Rational thought can go out the window when it involves her twin.” Sadie had always been the risk taker while Katie hadn’t been.
When he left his house, he pushed the speed limit as much as he could on the curvy highway down the mountain. He hoped that she’d stopped at the cell-reception parking lot and waited there until the texts finally downloaded to her cell phone, which might take some time depending on her phone provider and how many texts she had. And it was always possible that Katie hadn’t sent a text to Sadie.
He slowed as he took the last curve, but when he saw no cars at the parking lot for cell reception, he continued toward Butte City and Sadie’s duplex, praying she was there and all right.
* * *
Sadie looked around frantically for a way to escape or a weapon to use. The patio door caught her attention. She hurried to it and unlocked it. As she ran into her backyard, someone breached her front entrance. She glimpsed a tallthin man in a black ski mask and turned her focus on finding a way to escape the assailant. Her gaze fixed on the rear chain-link fence. If she could get over it…
From her left a blur of black rammed into her. She hit the ground, a thug pinning her down with his heavy, stocky body. Blue eyes—chilling eyes—stared at her from behind a black ski mask. It had to be the same man who fired at Brock and her from the garage yesterday. But she didn’t have any kind of weapon to use on him like she had his partner in Katie’s bedroom. Instead, she would use the pen still in her hand to poke his eyes out. But he grasped each wrist and pinned her arms above her head so fast she hadn’t been able to execute her plan.
Sadie screamed, “Help. I’m being attacked,” praying a neighbor was home and could hear her.
He gripped both of her wrists with one hand. The pen she still held dropped to the ground as her assailant hit her in the jaw.
When his fist connected with her face again, pain streaked outward from the contact. She had to think of something else to do, but it was hard to put together thoughts in her swirling mind.
He flipped her over and tied her hands behind her back. Her left cheek, that he’d struck, was pressed into the grass, intensifying the agony. Her thoughts spun faster and faster. The feel of a prick on her neck sent her falling into a black void.
* * *
Brock’s call to Sadie’s cell phone went to voicemail. Alarm bells clanged in his head. The urgency to get to her as fast as he could swamped him, and he pressed his foot on the accelerator. When he arrived at her duplex, her car wasn’t parked in the driveway. He hoped it was in her garage.
He ran toward the front entrance and tried the knob. It turned. His gut knotted. Sadie wouldn’t have left her house open. He took out his cell phone as he entered her place and called Clay.
“I’m at Sadie’s duplex, and the place isn’t locked up. Something’s happened here.”
“I’m on my way. I’ll contact the chief of police. What’s the address?”
“Sadie’s rear door is ajar.” He told the sheriff where she lived. “Hurry.”
Brock stuffed his phone back into his pocket and headed toward the kitchen to see if her car was parked in the garage. When it was, he gripped the rifle he’d brought with him until his fingers ached. He couldn’t wait for Clay. He needed to search the whole duplex to see if she…
Emotions he usually kept buried jammed his throat. She had to be alive.
Lord, please protect her. I’ve seen so much death. I don’t know how I could handle hers.
He went from room to room, making his way around the stacked boxes she hadn’t emptied yet. A few were knocked over, and the items in it searched. He returned to the living room and headed out the back door, making sure not to mess up any potential fingerprints. He crossed the small patio and scanned the area. Had she run away? Where would she go? His gaze latched onto the chain-link fence running along the rear of the property. The sides of the yard had a six-foot wooden fence—harder to climb. As he started for the back, he spied a pen on the ground. From its new condition, it had to be recently placed there. He looked closer and found fresh drops of blood nearby. The knot in his gut solidified as he straightened.
He spied Clay at the rear exit and motioned for him to come. “I think this is where Sadie was taken down.”
With gloves on, Clay took a photo of the area then picked up the pen and dropped it into an evidence bag. “I’m calling for two deputies to gather evidence. I’ll have the fingerprints on the pen checked against Sadie’s in the house.”
Brock looked up at the early morning sky. “Maybe a neighbor saw something. A car out front possibly. Sadie’s is in the garage.”
When the deputies showed up, Brock and Clay went house to house. No one answered the door at the other half of the duplex.
Brock stepped off the porch and glanced in the front window. The living room was bare. “I don’t think anyone lives here.”
Clay joined him and sighed. “I’d hoped someone did and might have heard something.”
Most of the people on the block were home and hadn’t left for work yet, but no one could tell them anything.
Finally, the person who lived across the street from Sadie had a surveillance camera that might have footage to help them. Then another older couple a few houses down had gone for their early morning walk and had noticed a car outside the duplex.
The white-haired woman invited them inside while she called her husband to join them. “I’m Esther Dodd. I haven’t seen that car before. We’re part of the neighborhood watch, so both Bud and I keep an eye on what’s going on around here.”
“What color and make was the car?” Clay asked as Bud came from the back.
“It was a gray car with dark windows. Hard to see inside.” Esther smiled at her husband. “I don’t know the make, but I’m sure Bud does.”
“It was an older Honda Accord, in good condition—at least it looked that way to me,” the older man answered. “I was going to get the license plate number on the way home if it was still there. But it wasn’t. We go down several blocks then over two then circle back. I thought it could be a new tenant for the vacant duplex, and we were going to welcome them to the neighborhood.”
Clay thanked them and turned to leave.
Brock shook their hands. “Thank you.” He paused. “The lady across the street from the duplex has a surveillance camera. Do you know anyone else on this block who has one?”
“Not many. That’s why Esther and I go walking a lot. All I have is a camera doorbell, but it doesn’t work. I’m definitely getting it replaced right now.”
“Bud, remember the neighbor next to the duplex on the right has a camera.” Esther took a couple of steps to the edge of her porch and pointed to the house next to Sadie’s. “They may have already left for work. Both are school teachers.”
“Thanks, again.” Brock joined Clay on the sidewalk. “Our best shot is Sadie’s neighbor to the right, according to Esther.”
They crossed the street and rang the bell. Not seconds after that the garage door went up. Brock stayed on the porch while Clay stepped into the driveway. When the young couple greeted the sheriff, Brock came to his friend’s side. The wife looked as if she was going to work while the man didn’t.
The wife’s eyes grew wide when she looked next door at several cars from the sheriff department. “Is something wrong?” Her voice quavered.
The sheriff stepped forward. “We’re asking people on this street if they have any outside surveillance cameras. The couple across the street said you did.”
Her husband nodded. “I’m Sam Baldwin and this is my wife, Sue. We do.”
“Can you get us the video for the past ninety minutes?” Clay asked. “It’s important.”
“Yes, it’s on my cell phone. I’ll go get it.” Sam left them and went back inside.
Sue’s face went pale. “Did something happen to Sadie? She just moved in.”
Brock glanced at her. “You know Sadie?”
“Yes, we went to church together when she lived here.” She tilted her head. “You look familiar.”
Brock didn’t go to Sadie’s church. “I’m a friend of hers. Maybe you remember me from Butte City High School.”
She snapped her fingers. “That’s it. You two dated.”
“Yes. Did you see or hear anything unusual in the last hour?”
She stared at the ground for a moment. When she lifted her head and looked at Brock, she said, “No, I’m sorry. I listen to the radio when I get up.”
When her husband returned with his phone, Clay gave him the email address to send it to him. “If either one of you remember anything unusual around dawn or hear something from one of your neighbors about this morning, please give me a call.”
“We will. I’m a big fan of Sadie’s. Her recipes are great. I was excited when I saw her move in next door.” Sue shook her head. “I can’t believe something might have happened to her. I sure hope not.”
Me, too. Brock had forgotten how determined Sadie could be. The bond between her and Katie was strong, and he should have anticipated Sadie would go to any extreme to find her sister. “Thank you for your help.”
As Brock returned to Sadie’s duplex, the same guilt hit him that he’d felt about his last skirmish in the Middle East, leaving him and others hurt or dead. He should have been able to prevent the losses somehow. What if he never saw Sadie again?