“I’ve got her,” he said. “Yeah. Taken care of.” He paused for a minute. “I’m taking her to the cabin. It’s remote. No one will find her, and I’ll make sure all loose ends are tied up.”
He clapped the phone shut then grabbed her arms and hauled her up. “You and I are going for a ride, bitch.”
He dragged her toward the door, and she stared back at Ryan, straining to see him in the dim light. Tears flooded her eyes. Ryan. Oh God. The bastard had killed him.
Sobs welled in her throat, escaping around the gag. A blast of cold air washed over her naked legs as the attacker pulled her outside into the snow. Her skimpy nightwear offered no protection from the biting cold.
As if she were nothing, the man threw her over his shoulder and headed for the road. A few minutes later, he stopped and dumped her into the ditch.
She looked up to see a dark vehicle, an SUV of some type. The man yanked open the back then turned to pull her up. He threw her into the back, and she landed with a thump, all the breath knocked from her.
He slammed the door, and seconds later, she heard the driver’s door open and then the engine started.
Grief and rage poured over her, swirling, a storm she couldn’t control. She ignored the cold, her injuries, she could only think of Ryan lying lifeless on the floor.
The SUV rounded a corner, jostling her. Something smooth and cool slid into her chin. It took her a moment to realize it was a cell phone. He must have dropped it when he threw her in the back.
Her heart beat furiously as she tried to figure out a way she could use the phone. Her hands were secured behind her back, her legs were handcuffed, and the cloth was stuffed in her mouth.
First the gag had to go. She slid her head repeatedly on the floor, trying to move the bandana down her head. After several agonizing attempts, she felt the bandana slip and loosen. She scrubbed her cheek until finally she worked the bandana down around her neck.
She chewed and worked her tongue, shoving the cloth from her mouth. Finally it fell and she sucked in huge breaths, trying to make the panic subside.
Getting the phone open would be tricky. She rolled and contorted her body, flipping over to her other side. She wiggled her fingers, reaching, straining for the phone. Her fingers slid over the surface, and she dug her fingers into the seam until finally she cracked it open.
She glanced her fingers over the buttons, feeling for which was which. Awkwardly, she pushed one, then another until finally she had the sequence of Adam’s cell phone number inputted. Then she felt for the send button, praying she guessed right.
As soon as she pressed the last button, she rolled and squirmed, rotating back over until her mouth and ear were close to the receiver.
Let him answer, she prayed. Let him answer.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bitter cold pierced Adam’s heavy coat. They’d finally been able to pick up a faint trail in the snow about a mile outside of town. He and Ethan shined their floodlights over the terrain, moving as quickly through the drifts as possible.
Heavy, wet flakes fell, covering the tracks almost as quickly as they could find them.
“There’s a shed just ahead,” Adam shouted back to Lacey who was bringing up the rear.
He waded through the last heavy drift and shoved his way to the ramshackle shed a few feet away. He grabbed his gun sling and hauled his rifle over his shoulder until his hand curled around the stock.
Ethan shuffled up behind him, rifle trained on the door.
“Shine the light, I’ll go in,” Adam directed.
He counted to three then rammed his shoulder into the rickety wooden door. It shattered and Adam stumbled inside. Ethan rushed in behind him, light raised, gun sweeping the area.
“There, in the corner!” Adam exclaimed.
Lacey burst in behind them, her pistol drawn. “Find anything?” she asked breathlessly.
Adam didn’t respond. His attention was focused on the small child huddled in the corner of the shed. Dropping to his knees in front of the boy, Adam reached out and touched the child’s cold skin.
To his relief, the boy stirred and opened his eyes.
“Thank God,” Adam murmured.
Lacey immediately began barking orders into her radio as she relayed their position. She requested EMS and told the dispatcher to inform the parents the child had been found.
“Sam,” Adam said gently. “We’ve come to take you home.”
“The bad man said I couldn’t go home,” Sam stuttered out. “Not until…”
“Not until what?” Lacey demanded.
Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion, his lips shook with the cold. “Said I had to serve my purpose. What’s that mean?”
Adam looked at the others and shrugged. What sicko had taken the child and left him here in the cold to freeze to death?
He reached down and picked Sam up, cradling him in his arms. “We’re going to take you home now, Sam. Your mama’s been awfully worried.”
“Don’t let the bad man hurt her,” Sam mumbled against Adam’s shirt.
“Don’t worry, son. He can’t hurt your mama.”
Sam raised his head. “Not Mama. The woman. The bad man said he had to take care of a woman.”
Icy prickles danced up Adam’s spine. He glanced over at the others, tendrils of dread clinging to him like a vine. “Take him for me,” he directed Ethan.
After Ethan hefted the boy into his arms, Adam dug for his cell phone. He punched in his home number and waited as it rang. He let it ring twenty times before he closed his cell phone. He swore softly.
“It’s the middle of the night,” Lacey offered. “They’re probably asleep.”
“Yeah and my signal sucks,” Adam said, trying to dispel the heavy foreboding that swelled in his gut. “I’ll try again when we get to town.”
“Ready to head out?” Lacey asked as she secured the rope to the rescue sled.
Ethan laid Sam down and arranged blankets around him. Then he and Adam took the rope and began pulling the sled through the snow. It was at least an hour trek back to town, and Adam carried a knot the size of a softball in his stomach.
Forty-five minutes later, out of breath and slogging much slower through the snow, Adam and Ethan stopped a moment to rest.
“It’s not much further now,” Lacey said.
Adam nodded, too winded to speak. The peal of his cell phone ringing rent the night air. Adam dropped the rope and dug frantically for his phone.
He flipped it open. “This is Adam.”
“Adam…” Holly’s voice, faint and wavery, filtered through the line.
“Holly?” Relief surged through him.
“Adam, thank God.” Her voice got a little stronger. “I don’t have much time.” He could hear tears, thick in her voice, and his pulse began pounding in his head. “He killed Ryan,” she sobbed.
Adam’s blood ran cold. “Holly, Holly, baby, where are you? Are you all right?” he shouted.
“I don’t know where I am,” she said, her voice desperate. “He took me. Please come get me.” Her voice broke.
“You bloody bitch, give me that!”
Adam held the phone, paralyzed as he heard the scene play out over the phone. Holly cried out. Adam heard the smack of flesh. Then the phone went dead.
“Sweet Jesus.”
Ethan grabbed him by the shoulder. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Holly,” Adam said hoarsely. “She said Ryan’s dead. Someone has her.”
Ethan dropped the floodlight he’d been carrying.
“We have to get to the cabin. Ryan. My God.” Adam couldn’t form another coherent thought.