Life Flight

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Life Flight Page 25

by Lynette Eason


  Penny stopped for a second. Was she hungry?

  Yes, but not starving.

  So maybe she’d been out only a couple of hours.

  And Rabor would know how long the drug would last and would know approximately when she’d wake up.

  Okay then.

  He could be back at any moment and she really needed to not be here when he showed up.

  Think, Penny.

  She continued to work the tape with her teeth and finally got a small tear even as her gaze scanned the room once more.

  Thin walls with exposed studs. No insulation. Cement floor. Two dirt-encrusted windows. She stopped tugging on the tape and pressed her hands against the nearest wall.

  Wood and no drywall. Not brick. Hope sprouted and she went back to tugging on the tape. A sound at the door froze her for a brief moment.

  “No,” she whispered. “No, no, no.” He couldn’t be back yet.

  She spun and kicked at the wall. The wood splintered, but stayed in one piece. Another kick sent her foot through the wood and she lost her balance, then went to the floor with a thud. A gasp of pain escaped before she could choke it down. She tugged her foot from the hole and scrambled to her feet.

  Another loud sound at the door sent her heart thumping even faster. Then the door opened, revealing the silhouette of a man against the night.

  Penny choked down a scream and backed toward the hole in the wall. She might be able to squeeze through it.

  “Penny?” the man hissed. “Come on. We need to hurry.”

  Wait a minute . . . She stilled. “Frankie?”

  “Yeah. Rabor just went into the main house, but I don’t know how long he’ll be in there. We need to go. Now. Hurry!”

  Could she trust him? What if he was really working with Rabor? What if he wasn’t and her hesitation wound up costing her? Did she have a choice?

  “Do you have a knife?” She held out her hands even as she slipped out the door.

  “Worry about your hands after we get away from this lunatic. I’ve called for help and they’re on the way, so as long as you can run, we might just have a chance.”

  Good point. She hurried after him, going around the back of the building that had been her prison. Now that she could see it, thanks to a dim floodlight casting an eerie glow over the yard, it looked like it had been built by someone who had no idea what they were doing. Which had worked in her favor, and she’d take that for the win.

  He stopped her. “Where are your shoes? And your jacket?”

  “I don’t know. They were gone when I woke up.”

  “Okay, that’s not good,” he muttered. “We may have a problem.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t have a signal and help might be going to the wrong location.”

  Penny jerked around to look at him. “Why?”

  “Because I was following you, not paying attention to the fact that we were going somewhere different than where I told Holt to—” He pressed shaking fingers against his eyelids. “Never mind. It’s a long story. If we get out of this, I’ll explain it all to you.” He glanced around the side at the house. “He’s still inside, but I don’t know about running across that yard. If he looks out a window, he’ll see us.”

  Another good point. She held out her hands while she thought, and he pulled out a pocketknife to cut through the rest of the tape.

  “Okay, let’s think about this,” she said. “Where are we?”

  “About thirty miles from the subdivision where he grabbed you. I had to follow at a pretty good distance, and there were times I was sure he was going to catch me, but I guess he wasn’t too concerned about being followed. He made one stop at a gas station and then continued on.”

  “What’d he do at the gas station?”

  “I don’t know. Got gas?”

  Penny clenched her fingers into fists. “I meant, did he meet anyone, talk to anyone, do anything?”

  “I don’t know. I was parked pretty far away. I was trying to avoid being caught. Anyway, we’re on a mountain, but not too far up. There are a few houses scattered along the route, but this one is definitely more isolated.”

  “Of course it is. He wouldn’t want anyone around to witness his evil.”

  “Yeah.”

  “When did you notice you didn’t have a signal?”

  “When I parked.”

  “Okay, where’s your car?” She shook her arms and grimaced as the blood flowed.

  “On the other side of those woods over there. I pulled into someone’s driveway so it would look like it belonged.”

  She groaned. He couldn’t have picked a worse spot. “You don’t think someone’s going to notice and report it?”

  “I don’t care, if it brings help this way.”

  He was making quite a few valid points.

  She raked a hand over her hair and narrowed her eyes. “Okay, I’m not crazy about running across that yard. What if we just go in the opposite direction?” She paused when he shook his head. “Don’t shake your head. Why are you shaking your head?”

  “This place is built practically on the side of the mountain. And like I said, while we’re not too far up it, we definitely can’t go down it, especially in the dark.”

  “He did that on purpose,” she muttered. “One way in and one way out, right?”

  “Appears that way.”

  She sighed. “I really don’t want to go across that yard.”

  The door to the house opened and closed with a slam and Penny jerked. She peered around the edge of her “prison” and noted that Rabor was headed their way. He had a gun tucked into the waistband of his pants and the tune he whistled drifted toward her. Then he began to sing.

  “Tea for two . . .”

  Oh, God, please, help us . . .

  “Okay,” she whispered. “Hopefully he won’t notice the hole in the side. When he gets to the door—”

  “He’s going to notice it’s open. I didn’t shut it.”

  She bit her lip. “That’s okay. Our only hope is that once he’s there, we take off running and get enough of a head start that we can get to your car before he can get to us.”

  He nodded. “I’m right behind you.”

  But Rabor’s phone rang and he stopped to take the call. Penny’s breath whooshed from her and her stomach knotted with so much tension she wanted to puke. “Wait. He has a signal.”

  Frankie checked his phone. “I don’t. He must be using a satellite phone.”

  Duh. “Right.”

  So, she’d wait.

  Freedom was so close she could taste it.

  As soon as the SUV pulled to a stop at the gas station, Holt leapt out. The coordinates Frankie had sent converged in this spot.

  A busy, run-of-the-mill convenience store.

  A bad feeling settled in his gut.

  Julianna stepped up beside him. “This doesn’t feel right.”

  “No kidding.” He curled his fingers in a fist and resisted the urge to hit something. “I’m an idiot,” he said, his voice low. “He’s got to be involved with Rabor. He spoon-fed me false information to lead us away from Rabor and I fell for it.”

  Julianna shook her head. “Great. Now what?”

  Holt paced the length of the SUV, then back. “Let’s search the place.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I don’t know what else to do and maybe he sent us here for a reason. If he wants to rub it in our faces, maybe he left us something to find.”

  Holt motioned to the others, and after briefing them, he walked inside to talk to the clerk. “Excuse me, I need to cut in line for just a moment,” he told the waiting customer.

  She didn’t look happy but didn’t argue.

  The clerk raised a brow. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re looking for someone.” He showed his credentials, then held up his phone to display the picture of Rabor. “Have you seen him?”

  She frowned. “That serial killer? Seen him on television, b
ut not in here. Definitely not in here. I would have freaked out.”

  “He might not have come in the store. Could have gotten gas at the pump. He’s driving a newer model silver Buick sedan.” He showed her a picture of that as well.

  She frowned. “You know, I think I did see a car like that pull up next to the dumpster. Didn’t get any gas. I thought he’d pulled over to take a phone call or something.”

  “Thanks. That helps.”

  He turned and walked out of the store. Julianna looked up from the trash bin she’d been digging through. He had to hand it to the woman. He hadn’t seen anything that made her squeamish. “Well?” she asked. She pulled her gloves off and dropped them into the can.

  “We need to check that big dumpster over there to the side.” He pointed. “I’ll get Grace to pull the SUV around.”

  Julianna nodded and walked toward the bin while pulling on a clean pair of gloves.

  Two other agents continued the gas pump trash cans search. Holt didn’t think they’d find anything in them, but they had to cover all their bases.

  Once Grace had the SUV parked next to the dumpster, she and Julianna and Holt climbed on top to look down inside.

  It was almost full, and Holt recognized Penny’s shoes and flight jacket. With gloved hands, he grabbed them. “They were here.”

  “Yeah,” Julianna said, “but where are they now?”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-NINE

  Rabor’s blood hummed as he finally hung up the phone. She was being obedient. Checking in with him as instructed. He’d asked her each new question and she’d answered appropriately. A thrill shot through him as he envisioned Penny doing the same. But first . . . the training. She was definitely the most stubborn woman he’d ever taken, and the anticipation was nearly killing him. He chuckled at the thought. Wouldn’t that be ironic?

  But Penny was the perfect one to work with next. Her training might be difficult at first, but in the end, she’d do as instructed. Just like—

  He stopped when he thought of her. She proved his training could work. Which was why she was still alive. But every other one had failed. He couldn’t wait to see how Penny would do. Her fire and defiance had immediately attracted him to her, and he knew she would be the true test of his skills.

  She had been like that before. But had passed his test. Others had tried, of course, but he’d seen through their feeble attempts to placate him. There’d been no real desire to be better. To do the right thing. She’d been the only one.

  He stared at the building—one very similar to Joel’s—just . . . warmer. If Penny passed his test, then she would live. If she didn’t, she would die. The thought saddened him for some strange reason, and that made him angry.

  Because, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he knew she’d fail the test. He shifted the gun and drew in a deep breath. “Let the training begin.”

  Rabor’s footsteps crunched closer while Penny’s feet were turning into blocks of ice. She prayed she’d be able to run. A chill sent shivers through her. Rabor disappeared on the opposite side of the building.

  “Go,” she whispered.

  She took off with Frankie right behind her.

  A string of curses ripped through the air. He’d discovered she was missing.

  She tried to run faster, but each step sent agonizing pain through her feet.

  A shot rang out and Frankie gave a harsh cry. Penny stopped and spun to see the reporter hit the ground face-first. A dark stain blossomed on the back of his right shoulder. He rolled to his knees and Rabor took aim once more.

  “No!” Penny darted to the man who’d risked his life to save her and put herself between him and the gun. Although, she had to admit she wasn’t entirely sure Rabor wouldn’t pull the trigger anyway.

  Heart pounding, she waited for the shot.

  Rabor stomped toward them, weapon held tight. “Move.”

  “Not until you promise not to shoot him.”

  He studied Frankie, who’d dropped back to the ground, silent, face pale, and breathing with shallow gasps. “Doesn’t look like I’m going to have to shoot him again.”

  Penny yelled and rushed Rabor, catching him in the stomach and knocking him to the ground with a bone-jarring thud. She’d aimed at his recent surgery site, only to realize he was wearing a vest. He’d predicted she might fight back and had come prepared. His breath hissed from between his lips. The hard landing had to hurt in spite of the protection of the vest, but he rolled, hand still wrapped around the grip of the gun.

  Penny scrambled to her feet as Rabor brought the weapon back around and aimed it at her.

  “Don’t . . . move.” He sucked in a pained breath.

  Penny froze, everything in her wanting to fight back, but something told her not to. Not yet.

  For a moment, they stared at one another, her heart pounding, blood rushing. She noted Rabor’s phone on the ground next to Frankie’s hand. The reporter’s fingers moved, then his palm covered the device. Penny sucked in a harsh breath, and Rabor flicked a glance at Frankie, who lay still, eyes closed.

  “You killed him,” she said. She didn’t know if Rabor had, but it sure looked like it, and maybe if Rabor believed Frankie was dead, he’d leave him alone.

  Rabor grabbed her arm and yanked her to him, jamming the gun against her temple. “To the house. It’s time for our training session and first date.”

  She stumbled along beside him. She was strong and he’d had surgery a few short days before, but he was determined. His lack of reaction to the pain, even with the vest on, told her a lot. He was on something. Narcotics? Steroids? Whatever it was, his pain was minimal, and that was concerning.

  “Can you please take the gun from my head?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  He stopped his angry march and she skidded to a halt. He lowered the weapon. “Since you asked so politely.”

  What? Well, if that was all it took . . .

  “If I asked politely for you to let me go, would that work?”

  He laughed. “Not hardly, but at least I know you have some manners.”

  He liked manners. Politeness.

  Interesting. Too bad he didn’t have any.

  “Go on,” he said. “Inside.”

  She stopped at the front door. “Whose place is this?”

  He gave her a hard shove, slamming her shoulder into the door. She winced.

  “I said, inside! When I say something, you don’t question me!”

  She stared at him, the look in his eyes chilling her more than anything she could think of.

  Please, God, help me . . .

  The prayer whispered through her mind as she twisted the knob and stepped through the door. The first thing she registered was that it looked so . . . normal.

  But the gun pressed into the small of her back was definitely not normal.

  “This is Joel’s mother’s home,” he said as though nothing had just happened. “It was hers before she married and she kept it in her maiden name.”

  In other words, untraceable. Nothing that would lead to Rabor.

  Penny’s mind spun. She could do this. There would be something inside she could use as a weapon.

  “To the right,” Rabor said, “through the den and into the kitchen, then down the stairs.”

  Penny walked slowly, one foot in front of the other, while she took in every detail. The den was homey, comfortable. A place where a family could hang out and spend time together. The blanket over the back of the couch, the book on the coffee table. She thought she recognized the back cover but couldn’t place it.

  He jabbed her. “Keep walking.”

  She stepped into the kitchen.

  Car keys on the counter.

  Teapot on the stove.

  Teacups lined up on little hooks attached to the wall. Lots of teacups.

  Table with four chairs.

  Newspaper folded neatly on the table.

  Dishrag draped over the faucet.

  Absolute
ly nothing that could help her escape.

  Desperation rose swift and hot.

  Dear God, what was she supposed to do?

  And poor Frankie . . . she couldn’t let his death be in vain!

  Help me, Lord!

  “Walk faster,” he said. “Down the stairs.”

  “What’s the hurry?”

  A hard grip on her hair snapped her head back and she gasped while gagging on a scream.

  “One thing you need to get straight before you take another step,” he said, his breath hot on her ear, “you don’t question me. At all. The only way for the training to work and the dates to be successful is for you to do exactly what I say, without question. Do you understand?”

  Penny swallowed while her terror rose. “I’m beginning to.”

  He released her hair and she lowered her chin. With her right hand, she massaged the throbbing in her head and walked to the first step, dreading the thought of going down into a tight space with Rabor.

  Self-defense moves flipped through her head, but nothing would work at the moment. She turned the corner and relief flooded her. Four steps led to an area that had been separated from the rest of the house but didn’t go all the way down to a basement. For some reason, that gave her hope.

  At the bottom of the four stairs, she paused. And frowned. Confusion mingled with the ever-present fear. “It’s a duplicate of your kitchen,” she said. Right down to the newspaper, the teacups on the wall, the kettle on the gas stove. Just past it was the den with the exact furniture layout.

  “These are the training rooms,” he said, giving her a nudge with the barrel of the weapon.

  “The training rooms.” She took a deep breath and prayed her next words didn’t set him off. “Is it all right if I ask you a couple of questions?”

  “Sit over there at the table.”

  He hadn’t answered her, but he hadn’t done anything to hurt her either. She chose a chair that put the table between her and him, and sat.

  He turned the stove on and placed the kettle of water over the flame. The whole time he worked, the weapon never moved from her. When he was finished, he nodded. “Since you asked so nicely, yes, you may ask me some questions.”

 

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