“Lake Henley.”
“I’ve heard of it but don’t know much about it.”
“It’s private. Mostly second homes people rent out. I think there are about five year-round residents, which means during the winter, it’s a ghost town.” He shrugged. “That suited my purposes.”
An interesting comment she’d like to follow up on but had a feeling he wouldn’t say anything more. “And probably why my kidnapper thought it would be a good place to dump a body,” she muttered, then sighed. “So, what day is it? Is it still Wednesday night? Early Thursday morning?”
“It’s Thursday night.” He glanced at his watch. “A little past nine.”
Her shoulders slumped. “So you’re saying I lost a day?”
“Looks like it. Anyone you need to call and let them know you’re okay?”
“I probably should call Heather. She’s got to be wondering where I am.”
“Who’s Heather?”
“My best friend.”
He handed her his cell phone and she dialed the number. It went straight to voice mail. “Heather, call me when you get this. Only call me on this number because I don’t have a phone right now. I was kidnapped and almost killed and I need to talk to you ASAP.” She paused. “And no, this isn’t a bad joke.” She hung up and rubbed her forehead.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “Or is that a stupid question?”
“Not stupid at all. I’m just a little worried. Heather always answers her phone and the fact that she didn’t . . .” She shrugged. She fell silent, then shook her head. “Heather will call me back when she can. I guess I need to go to the police and report this.”
“I called it in while you were warming up. They’re sending an officer to take your statement, but unfortunately, there was a big wreck nearby with fatalities and this is a small town. The majority of officers will be responding to that first until help from other counties arrives. I told them you were safe for now and the guy in the boat was probably long gone. Which means they’ll get to you when they can.”
She blinked. “Oh. Okay.”
“Who was he? The one in the boat?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never seen him before.”
“How’d you get loose from the railing?”
“Dumb luck? The grace of God? I was struggling pretty hard and he’d been in a hurry when he tied me to it.” She pulled her sleeves back just far enough to reveal the rope burns. Blood had flowed from them before her dip into the lake but had washed away during her impromptu swim. They stung like fire, but it was better than the alternative.
“If I have to choose between the two, I’ll go with the dumb luck,” Brady said.
“Hmm.” She paused. “What is it you do exactly?”
“I’m a detective with the Columbia Police Department. I work with the dive team when they’re shorthanded, but my main job is criminal investigation.”
She gaped, then snapped her mouth shut. “Wow. Okay, then. You might not be very happy with God right now, but I’m thrilled with him for sending you my way.”
He barked a short laugh and rose to grab his pack by the door. He rummaged through it and she watched, curious. He returned to kneel in front of her. “Let me see those wrists.”
“They’re fine.”
He took her right hand in his anyway. The feel of his warm fingers wrapped around hers chased some of the horror away.
“You don’t believe in God?” she asked, sliding her hand out of his grasp and pulling her sleeve down over the wound.
“I believe in him.” He nodded to her wrists. “And they’re not fine. Let’s wrap them for now. Give them a chance to heal and keep the germs out. You don’t want them to get infected.”
With no energy to argue—and feeling uncharacteristically compliant—she let him bandage her wrists. When her sleeve rose a little too high to reveal a multitude of white scars crisscrossing the inside of her forearm, she said nothing, just adjusted the sleeve to hide them. He glanced up and caught her gaze, a question in his eyes she had no intention of addressing.
“Why are you mad at him, then?” she asked.
He blinked. Then shrugged. “Who says I’m mad at him?”
“A number of little clues you’ve dropped.”
“Like?”
“Like choosing dumb luck over divine intervention. Body language when I mentioned God. Changing the subject to my wrists.” Should she push him on that or leave it alone? It really wasn’t fair to expect him to answer deep personal questions if she wasn’t willing to respond in kind, was it?
Then again, she knew firsthand that life wasn’t fair.
He raised a brow, then focused on her wrists. When he was finished, he replaced his supplies and returned to his chair.
So, he wasn’t going to answer. Alrighty then. “You always carry bandages and antibiotic ointment?” she asked.
“I do when I’m going to be fishing.”
“Ah, smart.”
“I try.”
A pause. “So, are you going to tell me why you’re mad at God?” she asked.
“No.”
“Okay. Then what are you doing out here all by yourself?”
He tilted his head as though surprised she’d not pushed. “I’m on vacation. Where are you from?” he asked.
“Sicily. The city in South Carolina, not Italy, much to my regret.”
“Is that where you were kidnapped from?”
“Yes.”
“I know that city well. It’s about fifteen minutes from where I live. I have some good friends who work out of the Midtown Region police department.”
She offered him a small smile. “I don’t even know why they had to make it a separate city. It might as well be Columbia.”
“True, but the family who founded it missed Sicily—the other one back in Italy.”
“You know your history.”
“Yeah. I do.”
She smiled. “The Italian influence is one of the things that I love about Sicily. One of the reasons I fell in love with it and decided to move there.” She yawned. “Apparently, the low crime rate report was a big old lie, though.”
They fell silent and her eyes lowered to half mast. She was warm. She was safe. She was sleepy. She let her eyes shut all the way and stayed there, close to dropping off, but vaguely aware of Brady moving in the background.
The window behind her shattered. She dove out of the chair to the floor. Brady’s body covered hers. He had a weapon in his hand before she could blink. Flames spurted from the floor in front of the fireplace and the sharp sting of gasoline burned her nose.
“What’s going on?” she cried.
He yanked her to her feet and grabbed his pack. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
Smoke curled around her. “How?”
“The back door. Through the kitchen. Laundry room first. We need to grab your shoes from the dryer on the way out.”
Another explosion shook the cabin as Brady led her to the kitchen’s laundry room. The heat intensified. Moving fast, he grabbed her shoes and stuffed them into his pack. A quick look at the kitchen door said they weren’t going out that way.
“Stay here.” He ran to the front window. A few seconds later, he returned and pulled her into the laundry room. “Saw two guys out there. If we go out the front door, we’ll be picked off.”
“What are we going to do?” she gasped.
He grabbed the string connected to the attic stairs and yanked. Once he had the steps down, he pulled her in front of him. “Climb!”
4
Pack slung over his shoulder, Brady scrambled up behind her. The flames roared close on his heels, and he knew they wouldn’t have a lot of time, but if things worked like he hoped, they wouldn’t need too much.
In the attic area, he turned on the light and was actually surprised when it worked. Electrical wasn’t totally fried yet. “You okay?”
“Yes.” He heard the tremor in the word.
“Come on.”
The light flickered.
“Where are we going?”
Another explosion rocked the cabin and he stumbled but kept his balance. Heat seeped through the floor. Most likely they’d tossed another cocktail into the kitchen. There was no going back now.
He gripped her hand and pulled her with him as he walked the length of the house. “There’s a balcony off the master bedroom with steps that lead down to the deck surrounding the cabin. If we can climb out the vent, I can lower you down.”
“The vent? Won’t that be a little small?”
“It’s a large rectangular vent. I know you’ll fit.”
“What about you?”
“It’ll be tight, but I think I will. We’re going to find out.” He found the vent and quickly assessed it by giving it a tug. It was screwed in nice and tight.
“Move back.” He stepped back and planted his foot in the middle of it.
It loosened but didn’t drop. Four more kicks did the trick.
Brady grabbed it with both hands and yanked it off, then tossed it aside. The smoke grew thicker, the air now pressing against his lungs, but fresh air blew in, and for a brief moment, the smoke cleared around them.
Only to quickly return.
At the opening, he looked out and didn’t spot anyone. Probably still waiting at the front door. The balcony was small but directly below. It was going to be a drop, but a broken ankle was better than being fried to a crisp. “It’s not too bad a drop if I lower you, okay?”
Steps led from there to the deck that ran around the perimeter of the cabin, stopping at the screened porch where he’d enjoyed his home-cooked dinner only a couple of hours earlier.
“Come on.” He gestured her over. “It might be a bit of a rough landing.”
“As long as I’m alive at the end of it.”
“That’s the spirit—and the plan. Climb out and place your feet against the side like you’re going to walk down, and I’ll lower you as far as I can before I let go.” She followed his instructions and he leaned as far as he dared while getting her as close to the balcony as possible. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
He released her hands and heard the thud when she hit the wooden porch floor. Her knees buckled and she landed on her hip. For a moment she sat there, then scrambled to her feet looking up at him. The smoke in the attic now choked him. Heat pressed in on him, flames licking behind him. The floor shuddered and part of it caved into the room below.
Coughing, he tossed the pack out and pushed his lower body through the vent. The flames continued to advance toward him.
A gunshot echoed through the crackling chaos, and for a second he froze. “Emily?”
The metal edges scraped his ribs, but he ignored it and shoved on through. When he was hanging by his fingertips, he let go. His left knee protested the jarring stop and a sharp pain shot through his left leg. He went down, slamming his shoulder against the wooden planks. Sucking in a breath, he rolled to see Emily huddled by the edge of the balcony.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.” With his eyes probing the dark shadows, he stood, carefully testing his weight on the knee. It throbbed, but it held. “Where’d the gunshot come from?” he asked. He pressed the knee further and grimaced.
“I don’t know. From the front, I think.”
He slung the pack over his shoulder and limped to the edge of the deck with her right behind him. A quick glance didn’t reveal anyone who might spot them or where the gunshot had come from.
Heat seared his back and he grabbed Emily’s hand. “Down the steps to the lower deck. I spotted them near my truck out front, so we’re going to avoid that area.”
“I think that’s wise. You think they stuck around?” she asked as she hurried down the steps.
“Yeah. That gunshot came from somewhere, so that’s the way we’re going to play it.”
“What would they be shooting at? We’re the only ones . . .” Her eyes widened. “Oh no. The officer who was on his way here. We need to check on him.”
“I know. I’ll do my best to get to him and find out how bad he is after I make sure you’re safe.”
They kept their voices low, but he wasn’t sure it mattered. The roar of the cabin burning would drown out any sounds they made.
At the bottom of the steps, he pulled her across the yard to the copse of trees about ten yards away, and they huddled behind them while he waited to see if he could spot anyone watching.
He’d seen two attackers. The cocktails had been strategically thrown. One into the hall, the second through the back-door window to prevent their exit from that end. The third in the kitchen. They obviously wanted them to go out the front door.
From his vantage point, Brady couldn’t see that anyone was watching—and the cop had probably called in the fire before he’d gotten to the cabin. But their best option was to get away from the property so he could call for help for the downed officer.
Movement to his left paused him. Emily tensed.
“Go that way and watch the door,” a voice said. “The cop won’t give us any trouble. Now, let’s make sure this is over tonight.”
The order came so close to him that for a moment Brady froze, certain the person could see him. Beside him, Emily went still. Brady reached for her hand and gripped her fingers, willing her not to breathe, not to move.
A dark figure passed in front of them, stirring the breeze, ruffling the leaves. Her fingers dug into his, but she never made a sound.
Once the man was out of sight, Brady tugged and she fell into step behind him. He moved as quickly as his throbbing knee would allow, putting some distance between them and the burning cabin.
A hiss escaped her and she jerked, pulling him to a stop. “What is it?” he asked.
“I stepped on something. Can I put the shoes on?”
“Oh, man, yes. I’m sorry.” He pulled them from his pack and handed them to her.
She dropped onto the nearest fallen tree trunk and slipped on the shoes, then stood. “Okay. What now?”
“We keep going and find a way to call for help. One of these houses will have a landline, I just have to find it.”
She brushed her hair out of her face. “Do you think the cop’s okay?”
“I don’t know. These guys are professionals, though, so . . . I would say his chances aren’t great.”
“Right. I’m sorry.” The words were thick, her grief tangible. “He shouldn’t have been out here.”
“The best we can do now is find a phone and call for help. You’re my first priority. And if he’s the kind of cop he should be, that’s the way he’d want it.”
He continued to lead her through the trees away from the burning cabin.
“Won’t someone call 911 when they see the fire?” she asked.
“Hopefully, the officer who was called out here reported it before they shot him, but there’s no telling if he did or not. If not, it could be hours before someone realizes what’s going on. I left my phone in the cabin, so it’s deep fried at this point. We need to find a landline ASAP.”
She stayed behind him. “How far away is the nearest house?”
“About half a mile. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
The question was, could he? His knee pounded with pain, but the fact that he could still walk was a good sign.
“Do you know where you’re going?” she asked.
“Somewhat. I studied a map of the place before I decided to rent the cabin. There’s a house along the road that is just on the other side of these woods. If we keep going, we should come out in the backyard.”
“I’m following you.”
Together, they hurried down the path that wound through the trees with Brady constantly looking over his shoulder, his weapon held tight.
“Do you think they know we escaped?” she asked.
“No idea, but when the fire trucks and police arrive, they’ll figure it out quick enough.”
&n
bsp; Emily gritted her teeth against the pain shooting up from her foot. She wasn’t sure what she’d stepped on, but the center of her arch throbbed with an intensity that was making her sick.
When the house finally came into view, she gave a relieved sigh that might have actually been a sob.
“This way.” He led her around the back of the home and floodlights came on.
“Is someone here?”
“I don’t think so. Probably motion activated. But just in case—” He knocked.
Nothing.
Pounded once more on the wood.
Still no response. “Guess that answers that.” He pulled his sleeve over his fist and punched the lights. Darkness engulfed them once more. He tried the knob. “We’re going to have to break in.”
She wasn’t going to argue, she just wanted a chance to get off her foot.
He used the butt of the gun to break the glass on the kitchen door, then reached in and released the lock on the knob, then the dead bolt. He pushed the door open. “If people have a landline, they’re usually in the kitchen on the wall or by a recliner in the den.”
“Or on a nightstand in the bedroom.”
He glanced at her. “Yeah. True.”
“What if they don’t have one?”
“Then we move on to the next house, but I’m hoping that’s not going to be an issue. A lot of these are rentals and will have a landline. The crispy cabin had one.” He stepped inside. “Let’s see what we can find.”
“I need to check my foot while you find a phone.” She limped into the chilly home, glass crunching under her shoes, and shut the door behind her. She took a step, then turned back to lock and dead bolt the door. At least that would buy a few seconds if anyone tried to get in.
Brady was opening and closing drawers in the kitchen. “Aha.”
Code of Valor Page 3