Secrets of Thunder Valley- The Locket

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Secrets of Thunder Valley- The Locket Page 11

by Shelly Von West

“That’s what many of the town folks were discussing this morning at the Lodge. The volunteers are gathering there and that was the consensus. Ellen is obviously successful, they think money is the motivation. But don’t most kidnappers make their demands early on? It’s nearly eight now and you’ve heard nothing.”

  “That’s exactly what has me the most worried.” Kathy says as her eyes mist over again.

  A new surge of activity outside alerts the group to head back to the front of the house to the porch. The walkway and parking area look as if they are under siege by law enforcement and naturally the media, which has grown, and is camped out on the far side of the tape where they have been relegated.

  “This is agony.” Tim breathes while clutching a beam for support at the top of the porch stairs.

  Squinting against the glare of the streams of light peeking through the clouds, Benjamin realizes what is causing the commotion. The helicopter transporting the crime scene team has arrived in the snow-covered field.

  The scene before them is nothing less than a nightmare, with cases in hands, the team is walking with exaggerated strides through the deep snow. Side-by-side they head with purpose straight toward the house.

  Turning to each other, the trio share a moment of worry and fear. The air is thick with anticipation, so much so that it could easily be sliced with a dull knife. As the team approaches the front walk, a small group of people intercept them.

  As they watch them exchange greetings and handshakes, Tim feels increasingly like an onlooker, just like it was when Melody disappeared. His chest is tight, and the frigid morning air is constricting his lungs rendering him breathless. A faintness overcomes him as he continues to grip the post for support to keep him upright.

  “Tim! Are you okay?”

  “No!” he gasps.

  Benjamin acts fast and renders his support by taking Tim’s arm and placing it around his shoulders. “Come on.” He urges Tim off the porch and back into the house where he escorts him to the nearest place to sit which is an upholstered overstuffed chair in the sitting room, a straight shot through the foyer from the front door.

  Rushing to his side, Kathy immediately swings into action by taking his pulse and assessing his heart rate. After a minute her demeanor relaxes. “You don’t seem to have be having another heart attack. Let me go grab your meds, I bet you haven’t thought to take them this morning.” She says over her shoulder as she hurries to the kitchen.

  Turning to Tim, Benjamin says with a grim look on his face though he is trying to be positive, “Would you like me to go out there and find out what is happening? I sense they aren’t telling you anything on purpose.” He peers through the curtains and just as he does, there is a loud rap on the front door followed by its opening, allowing a gust of cold air to enter the foyer and straight through to the sitting room.

  “Excuse me, we are here to process the scene. Can one of you please lead us to her room?”

  “Ellen.” Tim replies.

  “Huh?” The man looks puzzled then his face changes, “Oh yes, right… Ellen. Please show us Ellen’s room and I must ask you to stay clear of the team and we will need to look at all rooms for evidence. Is there anywhere that you can go while we process?”

  “How long do you think you will need?” Tim asks through clenched teeth.

  The man shakes his head which clad in a blue knit hat, “That’s hard to know. We will be as quick as we can. Time is of the essence, but we must be thorough, so we don’t want to rush and miss something. I’m guessing it will be late afternoon.”

  He motions to the rest of the people still standing on the porch including two more men and one woman. All of which are carrying multiple cases, presumably containing the supplies and tools to process a crime scene.

  Has a crime been committed?

  Where is Ellen?

  Tim’s mind is now racing as he contemplates the gravity of the situation.

  “Sir?”

  “Huh?” Tim replies befuddled.

  “Do you have somewhere you can go? It would be best if you were nearby, but you cannot stay here.”

  Benjamin speaks up, “We can go to my house. It is just five minutes down the road.”

  Tim’s eyes quickly dart to Benjamin, “Are you sure? Your mother is ill…”

  “Nonsense. I am sure, and my mother will probably love the company. Franny will be there too, she might sucker you into a game of ‘go fish’ though.”

  “All right. I’ll just go tell Kathy after I show them the room. Thanks Ben.”

  He leads the team back through the foyer and up the grand staircase to the guest wing that Ellen has been staying.

  “I will be down the road at our friend’s house while you process. I’ll leave my contact information with Agent Lowens in case anything develops while we are at Ben’s.”

  Nodding, the CSI lead takes off his hat shoving it in his pocket then nods to his team as they set up their cases in the wide hallway.

  Feeling the despair threatening to set in, Tim hurries down the back stairs to the kitchen where he finds Kathy leaning over the kitchen sink with her body shuddering.

  “Kath! They will find her, please don’t do this, not now. Not while we still have hope.”

  She whirls around, “What hope? We’ve heard nothing! Not one thing Tim! If this were a money issue, we would have heard hours ago!” She shrieks.

  “You need to calm down, it’s true we don’t know, but now is not the time to panic. I’m barely holding it together myself, I can’t hold you together right now too. We need to lean on each other.”

  She sniffs and as her breathing is still ragged, she seems to be calming down. Holding out her hand over his, “Here are your meds. I nearly forgot.”

  “Thank you.” He says with a half-smile and then takes his medication with a quick swig of cold coffee to wash it down. Wincing from the taste, he grabs the grey puffer jacket that had been slung over the back of one of the stools at the kitchen island. “Get your coat Kathy, we are heading over to Ben’s house to wait out the investigation.”

  She solemnly nods while bundling herself in a thick coat and gloves. While pulling her stocking cap over her ears, she follows Tim through the house to the front porch. Joining Benjamin who is waiting at the top of the stairs, they walk out toward the garage, stopping to make sure that Agent Lowens has all their contact information.

  “You notify me the instant they have finished with processing the house or if you have any new developments. We are only leaving because it will help the investigation.” Tim says with an odd tone to his voice that had a twang of finality to it.

  Lowens agrees with only a slight nod of his head before he turns his attention back to the call he was already on, then he covers the mouthpiece again and calls after their retreating figures, “Wait! Jackson! Did anyone get your prints? We need them for exclusion.”

  Tim responds immediately that they had their prints taken already when the local team first arrived.

  “Good, I’ll ask your Sheriff for them. We’ll be in touch later.”

  The trio makes their way to their vehicles in silence.

  “Well let’s just hope they can find evidence that will help find Ellie.” Kathy moans as their pickup truck follows Ben’s vehicle out of the drive past the barrage of media struggling to get images of the terrified parents, just as it starts to snow.

  Chapter Eleven

  Teeth chattering the temperature seems to be dropping at an alarming rate. Her body wracked with shudders from the intense cold, Ellen still lies on the freezing floor, trying to keep from slipping into complete hysteria and delirium from the onset of hypothermia.

  During what she assumes to have been midday, she amused herself with fantasies about getting out of this alive and falling madly in love with Benjamin. Quitting the entertainment business, starting a family, and living a quiet life on the lake. On at least two occasions during this time of delusion, she heard someone outside the structure, then above her a
s the floor seemed to creak beneath the weight of someone standing right above her head, as evidenced by not only the distinct creaking but the additional stirring of dust.

  Too scared at what might lurk above, she couldn’t bring herself to call out for help. Though that would have been a logical thing to do, she doubts that anyone was there to rescue her.

  Now on the second occasion, it’s more than obvious that there are at least two people as there are two sets of footsteps overhead. She carefully scrambles to a sitting position while the zip ties rip into her skin. She stifles her urge to cry out in pain. Straining to hear what is being said, it’s too muffled but what she hears is the words “move her”.

  Her pulse quickens as she realizes that she would be face-to-face with her captors again if they meant to move her. Fear of being in such a vulnerable predicament against her will and then being moved somewhere again by these brutes causes her body to stiffen while she silently says a prayer for her safety.

  The footsteps seem to recede which causes her body to relax but to her horror, a square trap door overhead suddenly opens. A face appears with a ski mask covering everything but a large set of dark, sinister eyes that dart around the room while adjusting to the dim lighting. His eyes narrow once they fix on Ellen. He disappears then in his place; a wood ladder is lowered to the floor not more than 10 feet away from where she is huddled in a ball. The cast causing more stiffness and no flexibility, she can only draw her legs up close to her body shielding herself against what is coming.

  “Get up!” A man’s voice barks at her. She does not know if the voice belongs to it the man in the ski mask or the other set of footsteps.

  Her body weakened by the shock and the severe cold, she fears what the man intends to do with her. She struggles to get her feet underneath her body instead of gaining her footing, she rolls backward against the wall as the bindings cause more damage to her ankles and horrific pain in her already injured arm. The searing pain of the hard-plastic ripping into her flesh is more than she can bear, she screams in pain as the masked man makes his way down the rickety ladder.

  “Shut up!” He yells. The dust swirls around as his heavy boots stir up the dirt beneath his feet.

  The man moves quickly yanking her up, the force from his large hands grabbing her by the arm causes her to shriek from pain. “Stop hurting me!” She hollers though it does her little good. The outburst causes the man to become angrier. He half drags and half shoves her toward the ladder while he curses under his breath.

  She sees the glimmer of a shiny object in his hand as he spins her around, she gasps stifling the scream that is threatening to escape her lips.

  Snap!

  Her ankles are now broken free and in one swift movement, the man shoves her up the ladder while grunting, “Don’t you be thinkin’ you makin’ a run for it. I aint afraid to stick ya.”

  Sucking in her breath, she follows his instructions and does not make an attempt at escape while he ascends the rickety ladder right after her. She is smart enough to know the chances of her escape at that moment were slim and efforts would have been rewarded with futility.

  Feeling weakened and faint, she has little energy to flee. Hoping to appeal to his senses she pleads, “I have money. Let me go and I will pay you whatever you want!”

  “Hehe, if my ole’ boss Frankie wouldn’t hunt me down and have my hide I would clean out yer bank.”

  “Screw Frankie, with my money you can go wherever you want and get away from here!”

  Shaking his head rapidly, “Oh no. He come find me, cause Frankie’s boss is old and cantankerous and would serve my nuts to me on a platter. Nope. I am to deliver you directly to the big boss and if I’m late, you be taking the blame.” He pushes her for the door when he stops.

  “Wait, a minute.” He furrows his brow then rushes to the nearest window, “Do not move!”

  Looking up toward the sky Ellen hears what has his attention.

  Running outside he all but forgets about Ellen. With her heart racing her eyes quickly dart around the abandoned structure to assess her options. Without wasting time, she runs the opposite direction of the front door where her masked captor went through. Running through to the back of the small house, she finds an outside door through what was obviously once the kitchen. The door is hanging by the upper hinges with the slant of it hitting the door jamb. Summoning her inner strength and will to live, she flings the door open with her good hand. Met with a loud clatter, the door falls as the weakened rotten screws are rendered useless under her force.

  Running onto the lopsided porch, the decrepit wood under her feet gives way from the strain of her weight. Feeling it going, she immediately jumps off the porch landing in the overgrown foliage surrounding the house. She rolls onto her back in the cold powdery snow, her entire body is in wretched mind-blowing pain… especially her arm but she allows herself only a moment to recover. Scrambling to her feet, she takes cover in a thicket of untamed rhododendron bushes. Shielding her eyes from the late afternoon wintery glare, she looks up toward the sky as a helicopter passes overhead again. From her hiding place, she examines the structure and doesn’t recognize the dilapidated house. The lake is nowhere to be seen, so she is likely far from where she lives. By her estimation, they are probably in the high woodlands… in the middle of nowhere.

  Is the helicopter overhead looking for her?

  Her breath hitches in her throat when the masked man appears around the side of the house clinging to the structure as if he were hugging a cliff. She observes him, knowing that one slight move could alert him of her hiding place. Peering through the holes in the bushes, she gasps as she thinks that sees the whites of his threatening eyes. Jerking herself backward she waits for his next move. With each second that passes, she feels like it’s equal to a lifetime. The moments of anticipation are excruciating. She peers through the parting of leaves again. To add to her fright, he has continued around the house to the lean-to porch. He pauses then his eyes snap straight to her hiding place.

  Her heart is pounding out of her chest, he has found her. The footprints in the snow will lead him right to her. She must make a quick decision; does she leave the open space where she might be discovered or the protection of the wooded forest? Both options present an immense amount of problems neither of which does she have the luxury of time to weigh the options.

  Wearing nothing but her sweater and pajama bottoms, no shoes, the jerks had taken her boots to bind her ankles. She knows she is not likely to get far.

  Her captor yells out “Hey Lady! You might as well give up. I know where you are.” He taunts. “I’m hoppin’ mad but I be willin’ to forget if you don’t make me come get yeh. It’s a little cold, don’t you think?” He says releasing a sickening howl-like laugh.

  She doesn’t budge, instead, she waits.

  “Yeh hear me?”

  He has moved out of sight, but he still hasn’t left the cover of the structure and overgrowth. She can hear that the chopper is still within a relatively close distance of the house but simply not near enough. If only it would get closer, she could run into the opening and flag them down!

  “You aint gonna get away. Not the way you dressed. I tell yah what, come out of the trees there and I won’t beat yah!” He yells.

  He’s right, she’s shivering out of her skin. Her bare feet are numb and turning purple. In fact, her entire body is wracked with pain and the cold is only serving as an amplifier.

  Despite her immense discomfort, she refuses to take leave of her cover. He knows where she is and the short distance to get to her, yet he too does not want to leave the safety of his hiding spot.

  They are at a stalemate.

  This she can use to her advantage. She is smarter than him but where he lacks in intelligence, he makes up for it in his brawn and his shear desire to keep his employer satisfied. Her mind races as she works on a plan of escape which she must execute before the helicopter retreats further in the distance and he has regained h
is bravado.

  “Yer stallin’ aint gonna save yeh. Be a good girl and come on out so I aint gotta fetch yeh.”

  If her assumptions are correct, the helicopter will circle back one more time before moving on to the next quadrant. She must time her escape correctly. Glancing behind her, she assesses the distance between her and the woods. If she reaches the woods, she will have a new cover, if she heads out into the opening hoping to flag a rescue, she is at higher risk for her capture.

  “To hell with it!” He spats.

  She peers through the bushes and to her horror she sees her captor charging through the snow following her footprints.

  Jumping to her feet she runs toward the woods.

  “Get back here!”

  Her numb feet carrying her as fast as they can, she runs blindly into the dark canopied forest. Stumbling through thicket while trying to keep on the spotty patches of snow to protect her feet, it occurs to her that she is leaving a trail for which her pursuer will surely use to track her. Ducking behind a wide trunk evergreen, she takes a deep labored breath that causes her lungs to protest the cold air and convulse, causing involuntary coughing. Afraid it will alert him, she does not wait to find how close behind the masked man is, reluctantly she leaves her hiding place and runs further into the woodland.

  “You won’t get away. I know them woods better than yeh.” She hears his raspy voice yelling after her.

  Wiping the tears of terror from her face, she ignores the pain, she ignores the frigid temperature, and she ignores that her feet are cut and bleeding. Her instinct now is to run as far as her feet will carry her. Knowing full well that she is burying herself deeper into the woods, further away from rescue, her will to survive is what gives her the strength that she needs.

  “Oomph! Aack!” She screams as she tumbles across the pine needle and twig covered forest floor. Scrambling to stand up she pulls debris out of her hair and wildly looking around her she steps around the fallen tree she has tripped over. She has the overwhelming sense that she has seen this grove of white birch trees before.

 

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