And why was she so cold?
The ceiling above the bed swam into view, just out of focus. It was morning. She knew that much. An early dawn crept in through the parted drapes and the air in the room was icy, as though she had walked into a deep freeze.
I have to put a log on the fire.
Disoriented, she turned her head.
Sam stared back at her—from the photo beside her bed.
Then she remembered.
The children. I have to help them. And Sam! He’s alive!
She tried to call his name, but the sound was muffled. A second later, she realized why.
A sock was stuffed in her mouth.
Fear infused her to the core as she inhaled through her nose and strained to regain complete consciousness. She struggled to sit up, but that resulted in a sharp pain in her ankles and wrists. Her eyes drifted over her inert body. She shuddered in terror at what she saw. She was lying on top of the blankets and tied spread-eagle to the bedposts.
With nothing on but her bra and panties.
She screamed, but the gag restrained the sound. She screamed again. And again, until her throat burned and her cries subsided into whimpers of uncontrolled terror.
Something fluttered outside the window.
The crow peered through the glass, watching her.
Sadie stared at it with pure dread. Crows were the harbingers of death. The bird was here for one reason. To claim her soul. She knew that now.
I am not going to die! Not here. Not like this.
Adrenaline surged through her veins. Behind the gag, she let out an angry yowl and tugged on the coarse ropes above her head. Squeezing her hands, she tried to make them small enough to slip through the ropes. She twisted and pulled, but the ropes cut deeper into her flesh, until her wrists were on fire and her arms ached from being stretched into such an unnatural position.
A trickle of blood dripped down one arm. For a moment, she watched it, captivated by the bright red against her pale skin. Then she lifted her head and fixed wild eyes on the open doorway. Is he gone? Will he be back?
Her near nakedness made her feel defiled.
Did he—? No, don’t think of that!
The wintry air made her shiver uncontrollably.
A door slammed. Footsteps drew near and a shape moved into the doorway.
“Good, you’re awake. And looking a might… perky.”
Sarge stepped into the room and set a gas can on the dresser.
Sadie’s heart kicked into overdrive. No, please…
With a shudder, she squeezed her eyes shut, desperately wishing she could close her legs too. She felt him watching her, taking in every inch of her body.
Something skittered across the floor.
Her eyes flashed open in alarm.
Sarge had dragged a chair next to the bed. With one hand, he flipped it around. Then he straddled it and folded his arms across the back—like he had all the time in the world.
When his hand moved toward her, a wave of repulsion made her stomach heave. She gave a muffled cry and yanked her head away. But that only made her dizzy. Whatever he had injected her with was still in her system.
“Such perfect skin,” he whispered. “Same as your kid.”
She shuddered as his calloused fingers trailed up her arm to her neck, caressing it, circling it. For a moment, she thought he was going to strangle her. Then his sandpaper hand skimmed over her right breast, cupping it roughly.
“You know, it don’t gotta be like this,” he said. “If you’re nice to me, I could be nice to you. Maybe tell you where your kid is.”
She whipped her head around and grunted persistently.
Take off the gag, you bastard.
Sarge’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I’ll take the sock outta your mouth, but if you scream, no one’ll hear you and I’ll just shove it back in. Understand?” He drew his hand away from her breast and removed the sock.
Swallowing repeatedly, she cleared her raw throat. Cotton fibers clung to her tongue, the inside of her cheeks and the roof of her mouth.
“I saw Sam die,” she said in a hoarse voice. “You killed him.”
“You thought you saw him.”
Sadie recalled the boy in the car. He had been bound in such a way that very little of his face was exposed. And since The Fog had told her it was Sam, she had…
Assumed.
“I took that boy last year,” Sarge admitted. “But his time was up. So I dressed him in your kid’s stuff, tied him in the car and called you.”
“You killed him right in front of me.”
He let out a huff. “Nah, he was already dead. I put him to sleep a week before I took your kid.”
His admission horrified her. “Why would you do that?”
“He’d served his usefulness.”
“But why make me think he was Sam?”
“You’re not very smart, are ya?” he said, shaking his head. “To kill two birds. You gave the cops my picture and I had to show you I was serious, so you wouldn’t say nothing else. I wanted the police to back off. Plus, I figured they’d go slower if they knew I’d kill ’en.”
In the living room, the grandfather clock let out an ominous gong. Time was running out, and Sadie knew she had to keep Sarge talking. She had one chance to survive. And that rested with a red-bearded Scot.
Please, God… let Fergus get the cops!
“What about the blood? The police said it was—”
“Your kid’s,” he said with a shrug. “I was a medic in the Forces. Until they discharged me. Collecting a little blood and leaving it on some bushes was nothing.” He rubbed his chin. “Cutting off his toe and finger took a bit of work though. Your kid’s a fighter.”
Sadie’s blood turned to ice. “What kind of monster are you?”
“That’s the price of warfare. You should never have fucked with me. I warned ya.”
“Where is my son?”
“Not so fucking fast!” he snarled. “I want something first.”
“What?”
His tongue swept over cracked lips. “Something I ain’t had in five years.”
When he smiled, acid boiled up into her throat.
Change the subject! Get him thinking about something else!
“I know about Carissa,” she rasped. “And your kids, Ashley and Adam.”
“What the hell do you know?”
“I know they died in a fire. That’s how your face got burned. You tried to save them.”
“Yeah, except that’s not what happened. Not really.”
A sound erupted from him and his entire body twitched.
It took a moment before Sadie realized he was laughing.
“Tell me then. What happened?”
Sarge gripped the back of the chair. “Carrie was gonna take them away from me. Said I was different after I came back from Iraq.” There was a baffled look in his eyes. “Do you know what she told me? That my kids were afraid of me. I tried to tell her that wasn’t true, that I was a good dad. Sure, I had nightmares. Awful ones. So did most of the guys when we got back home.”
“Maybe she was right,” she mumbled.
“Bullshit! She wanted me to go see some shrink, like I’m insane or something. She was gonna use that against me to keep them kids. I found her all ready to leave. So I had to stop her.”
“What did you do?”
“I backhanded the bitch. She blacked out, so I set her on fire.”
Sadie’s sickened gaze moved to the gas can. “You didn’t have to kill her. You could have worked something out.”
“I wasn’t gonna let her take them from me.”
“Maybe you could have shared cust—”
Sarge leapt to his feet. “They were my kids! Mine!”
Sweat poured down her brow. “But you… k-killed them.”