Must be infrared.
When the next meal arrived via the groan of old hinges, she tried for casual conversation, but anger and frustration drew her voice tight. Never in her life had she felt so helpless or pissed off. “You know my brothers will find—and kill you.” Threatening the kidnapper was foolish, yet common sense never numbered among her character traits during an emotional storm.
“Ah, but I’m leading them by the nose to someone else’s door.” Dingy backlighting concealed whatever details the holes in his mask could’ve revealed. A dark chuckle trailed him out the door after depositing her plastic plate on the floor.
The small space behind her served a dual purpose after scratching a furrow in the dirt. Concealing her drugged food and subduing the vermin whose intermittent squeaks had chilled her bone. Drugging the critters provided a small mercy.
From the high corner of the room, a raspy, hollow voice proclaimed her foolishness as she dusted off her fingers. If she didn’t eat, death would be slow and painful. The infrared camera has a microphone.
Minutes later, he brought another plate and bottle of water. The peanut butter sandwich didn’t taste off, but she knew she’d be taking another nap. Her oldest brother’s voice rang in her ears. “Stay vigilant, conserve strength, take action the first chance you get.”
Headache and pain over her spine induced flashbacks of conversational snippets from the meeting at Remie’s house. Tenderness in her right side guided her fingers to touch the area, finding several areas more sensitive but not swollen. She could breathe without difficulty and move as well, which meant she still had a chance to escape.
I’m alive. Figure it out, Abby, that’s what Royden would tell you. Her brothers would tell her to kill at the first opportunity.
Whoever kidnapped her also signed their death warrant. The question remained, would she survive? The thugs probably considered her a weakling due to her small stature but growing up with five brothers made her every bit the scrapper.
Shaking off a foggy haze required a skillset she’d never needed to acquire in college or law school. Time’s passage was water slipping through her fingers, the current both numbing and electrifying with the surge of fear’s adrenaline. She tried to keep her body loose and ready to fight. Her personal reek surpassed that of the stagnant air or the moist stone surroundings. She heard nothing but her heartbeat.
Several tears escaped eyes clenched tight. She had no way of knowing how much time had passed. From the rough feel of the stubble on her legs, she surmised two days. Royden and her brothers would be going out of their minds.
Time discarded one plan after the next as she munched the ham and cheese on rye. Because she didn’t want to crawl to find the chamber pot and bare her ass again, she avoided drinking. It was then she realized her kidnapper might have drugged the water, not the solid food. Deciding to continue the ruse, she lay down, as if she couldn’t fight the drugs in her system.
To prevent the black void of her environment swallowing all hope, she reviewed current cases in her mind. The partners in her firm would’ve reassigned each by now. Her mood brightened marginally when she imagined herself striding through the door and demanding them back. With only the thrum of her heartbeat for stimulation, she kept her eyes closed until hearing the door squeak again.
“Time for din din, Abby. You have a special meal tonight.”
Ah, it’s nighttime. It seemed unlikely he’d made a mistake in revealing the time of day. He hadn’t yet.
As the door opened, she pulled her knees to her chest and held out her left arm in blind hope the gargoyle didn’t view it as rebellion and punish her. She sat with her back against the concrete. The small furrow she’d etched provided a vague sense of direction. From that marked position, she could make her way to the door without needing light.
“What’s the occasion? Did you get a raise or promotion?” She didn’t expect an answer.
“Hmm, you’ll see. It’s a special surprise.”
So will you. “No silver and crystal?”
A tsk was his response as he left.
Maybe he’d grown bored with his captive, or maybe he wanted to instill a greater sense of fear, but sallow light highlighted a steak and baked potato along with a bottle of water. The food was warm, which meant she was in a home with a working kitchen.
Maybe a landline, which won’t do any good since I can’t give directions or wait for help to arrive.
She prayed the psycho hadn’t switched things up in altering the solid food. Feigning a shiver, she tucked her blanket close after resting the plate on her knees. Cold from the wall crawled through the blanket and wreathed her spine. The steak was rare, not that it mattered. She would’ve eaten it raw, knowing she’d need her strength.
Thanks to her brothers, she had survival skills and could evade the average stalker, but there was nothing average about the gargoyle. Since her arrival, she hadn’t heard any noise outside and assumed that forest surrounded the structure. More places to hide.
Each time she lifted the bottle to her lips, she closed her mouth and trickled a little down her chin and neck. Using her plate and hunched posture as cover, she concealed the fact her filthy shirt and jacket wicked up the dribble. As long as her body didn’t absorb the chemical, she stood a fighting chance when he entered again.
When finished, she set her plate by her hip and curled on her side. Using the blanket to cover her deceit, she prayed. Minutes passed as she waited to see if the familiar counterfeit sleep dragged her into a black void. Her heart thumped so hard her body shook.
The nerve racking squeak of the door.
Dim light.
No piercing pain or jolt of a stun gun. He has something special in mind.
She didn’t hear his approach but felt the blanket lifted from her shoulder. He would assume her fetal position resulted from fear, not the intent to strike.
When she smelled his aftershave as he leaned over to grasp her under the shoulders, she lashed out using his warm breath as a guide.
Her first strike with the heel of her hand glanced off his nose and struck his eye. He turned aside as she dragged her fingernails over his temple and ear. Follow-up included lashing out with her foot. Instead of a blind aim, she swept low to the ground, connecting with his leg as he tried to twist away.
On the offensive, she scrambled up, using his cursing to gauge his position. The next kick was from a standing position and connected with softer tissue. Another for good measure collided with his skull and probably broke her toe.
His blind grab snagged her left ankle and tripped her when she turned to run. The resulting face plant didn’t slow her efforts. Rolling to her back, she sensed him struggling to his knees.
The connection of her right foot and his face gained her freedom and a loud crunch.
In the next heartbeat, she was up and scurrying toward the dim light from the hallway. The struggle had muddled her coordination. One hand jammed against the wall, but her left hand met open air. The doorway.
His slurred curses gained volume.
Air in the hallway proved less dank. If she tried to lock him inside, she might not succeed before he used his greater strength to force it open. If she ran, he might catch her before she got outside.
She ran.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Remie’s specialty lay in dealing with the dead. At times, intuition guided her approach, and the victim revealed their secrets while pointing a skeletal finger at their executioner.
A gruesome crime scene that demanded Jonathan and her colleague’s presence granted her quiet time to think. Initial examination of her victim’s ear revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Further testing took time, time the next victim couldn’t spare.
Quiet moments furnished the introspection to lend its guidance and reinforce her decisions. She didn’t dispute the rightness of her current path in life, though loneliness had taken its toll since concluding her training. Spare time had never been an issue.
So lost in her thoughts, she jumped with the frantic banging on the facility’s back door and dropped her forceps in a cadaver’s chest. “Shit. What now?”
Nervous energy carried her around the steel table to the rear entrance. Punching a button on the security panel revealed the nighttime visitor. She froze at the sight on the viewing screen.
If not for the camera, she wouldn’t consider opening the door. As it stood, shock halted her reach for the trembling woman.
Ropes of black hair hung in limp wet strands across a face covered with dirt and blood. Filth covered the wet and tattered shirt held together with trembling fingers.
“Jesus. We’ve been looking all over for you. Come in.”
“I-I need h-help.”
Without conscious thought, Remie wrapped her arms around the sputtering, petrified attorney. “I need to get you to the hospital.” A slight nudge urged Abby toward the office after the delivery door closed behind them. Laying her on a steel gurney would not help matters.
“No! No hospital. I don’t want anybody seeing me like this. I don’t want my brothers to see me.”
“Hon, they’re going insane with worry. At least let me tell them you’re here and in one piece. They deserve that much.” Remie noted the stiffness with movement and how Abby perched on the edge of her chair.
Though she sounded crass in placing a victim’s feelings on the back burner, Remie knew time was of the essence in catching the killer. Each minute drove another wedge of precious seconds where he could erase evidence and evade detection.
“A-all right. But promise you won’t leave me. C-call Royden.”
Remie kept one arm around the terrified woman and dropped the cell twice in trying to connect with the detective. She hadn’t obtained any vital information, but Abby was in no shape to talk. “Royden? Are you driving and is Billy with you?” She could hear a car horn honking and the distant whistle of a train.
“Yeah, Remie, I’m driving. Why do you ask? Is everything okay? Talk to me.”
“Yes. I need you to come to my office, STAT. Abby showed up at the service entrance. She’s in rough shape but coherent. Tell Billy not to come in with guns blazing. She needs calm.”
“Holy shit. We’ll be there in ten.”
She disconnected the call before he could fire questions for which she didn’t have answers.
As a trained professional, Remie noted the bruises and contusions on Abby’s face, arms, and legs. Her feet, barely touching the tiled floor, had left bloody footprints.
She’d never dealt with a living trauma victim. Uncertainty must have shown on her face as she crouched down to be at eye level.
Abby reached an unsteady hand and gripped Remie’s shoulder. “Y-you need to collect evidence. I think I scratched him.”
“Abby, I don’t want to leave you long enough to get my equipment.”
Abby stood, wobbled slightly then turned her hard gaze on Remie. “Let’s go. Just don’t put me next to a—body you’re working on.”
“Abby, this can wait a few minutes.” Words spoken as a friend, met with a stony expression.
“No. The sooner we start, the sooner we catch the gargoyle.”
“Gargoyle? Did you see his face?” The thought of using the gardening sheers to dissect a living being had never entered her mind before witnessing Abby’s violent shaking.
“N-no.” Simple, direct, and halting. Beneath the adrenaline purge, Abby McAllister began to surface.
Tottering steps led the bundle of nerves to the opposite side of the room from where she’d been working. Twenty yards wasn’t much distance but the best they could manage. Reaching up to the mic, she started to switch it on then hesitated. Again, this wasn’t her bailiwick.
Abby nodded her assent.
“Tell me where you hurt or point to let me know.”
Abby placed her hand on her side as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I understand.” Remie detailed the location. “Where else?” With slow deliberate movements, Remie gathered the blunt wooden tooth picks used to collect fingernail scrapings and labeled evidence bags for each digit. Each time Abby touched or pointed, Remie described her findings.
Abby shook her head as if to shake lose flashbacks assaulting her mind. “He hit me, drugged me. Everything else—I got after I escaped.”
“Do you know where he kept you?”
“No. Not really. I was in a basement of a cabin in the woods. When I got free, I ran. I don’t know what time it was or how long since I escaped. It was cloudy, no moon. Then it started raining. I think I ran for hours. I came to a dirt road and followed it until I came out on Rte. 99. There was a gas station and I hitched a ride from a farmer carrying a load of fertilizer. Well, he didn’t know I’d climbed in the back…”
“Jesus. You’re a miracle.”
“I didn’t know who to trust. I didn’t have any money. I’ve never felt so helpless.”
Real and imagined horror brought the two women together, wrapped in each other’s arms. First impressions of the attorney had consisted of a strong character, take-charge kind of woman. “Abby. You are anything but helpless.”
Tires squealed from the front of the building. Billy and Royden. Remie prayed they came in with a soft approach, despite it contradicting Billy’s style.
Abby clung to Remie as sobs racked her body. Her breath, short gasps of desperation.
“Slow down. We can handle this. We’ll do it together. Okay?”
A silent nod interrupted her hiccup.
Male voices from the hall signaled the detectives’ approach. Both double doors slammed wide. Before they could enter, Royden grabbed Billy’s shoulder and spun him around to stand face-to-face. The doors swung closed but didn’t muffle the heated exchange.
“Wait, dammit. She needs family to be calm.”
“Fuck you. I am calm.”
“No. You’re enraged. You think she needs that right now?”
Remie continued to hold Abby and murmur soothing reassurances. With the shudders coursing across the smaller woman’s back, Abby shook and buried her face against Remie’s shoulder. There’d be a long recovery process, and her family would need support and education on ways to help.
“I need to see her, to know she’s gonna be okay.”
“She needs you to think more with your head than your heart. Your panic will make things worse.”
“Let go or I’ll break it.” The growl rumbled from Billy’s chest.
“She. Asked. For. Me.” Royden held strong.
“I’m her brother.”
“Whom she loves dearly but feels humiliated. She doesn’t want you to see her like this. Think about it, McAllister.” Royden shoved the door open then added over his shoulder. “Listen. I’ll talk to her for a bit. When you’ve calmed down and she’s ready, I’ll bring you in.”
“Fuck.”
Through the open door, Remie witnessed Billy’s partial meltdown. With his palms pressed against his eyes, it appeared he tried to hold rage at bay.
“Don’t say that or anything like it in front of her.” The warning in Royden’s words matched the set of his stiff shoulders.
The younger detective approached on soft steps.
Remie held her hand out and he stopped.
“Abby, Royden’s here and wants to talk with you. If you want, he can stay. If you’ve changed your mind, I’ll send him away.” A victim needed any semblance of control available.
Royden nodded his approval. She had never seen him interact with an assault victim, but this entailed so much more. This was the woman he loved. His expression smoothed as he visibly swallo
wed his pain.
“Royden?” The fear in her face broke Remie’s heart. If he failed to act appropriately, he’d be the one with a cracked skull.
“Yeah, Abs. It’s me. Can I come closer?” Tension built in his face and arms as he waited.
Abby let go of Remie and held her arms up tentatively for Royden to step forward.
Standing beside the stretcher, he waited for her to make contact, holding his arms out. When Abby pulled him tight and sobbed against his chest, Remie backed away to talk to Billy.
The office was the only private space at the moment. It took little encouragement to lead Billy inside and shut the door.
“Talk.” Short and to the point. He wanted answers.
Before she could begin, more cars screeched to a halt out front. “Let’s get your brothers in here first. Don’t let them interrupt Abby and Royden. She’s too fragile to handle them.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Remie’s gaze slid from the backyard to the group sitting around her table. Several weeks ago, thinning hardy water lilies in her pond had been the biggest concern. Golden light bathed the emerging plants and surrounding grasses that had come to life.
The past days’ events had ripped each McAllister’s emotions to shreds. Abby’s strong character and will had suffered a horrific blow, yet the family banded together, united in the face of tragedy.
Tension had remained high until the prior evening when Caden called with an update on her condition. She grew stronger and more determined every day. Her insistence on learning self-defense tactics came as no surprise and gave her something positive on which to focus her energy.
“I’m still not convinced that the cabin is the best place for her to be.” Billy sucked in a big breath and eased it out slowly as he sat beside Remie.
It seemed that strategizing around mealtime had become the norm at her farm. Everybody brought something to make a hodgepodge of leftovers and goodies.
McAllister Justice Series Box Set Volume Two Page 50