Fourth Day

by Lisa Phillips

  Allyson leaned in the window to look at the backseat. “Nothing.”

  Sal wasn’t sure what to say, considering it was neither good nor bad for her friend.

  “At least, no signs a kidnap victim was tossed back there.”

  He shot her a conciliatory smile. Unless they got the keys, there was little chance they’d get a look in the trunk.

  Sal led the way up to the front door. He knocked once, and it swung slowly open. “Left ajar?”

  “Or the worst kidnappers ever.” She stepped around him and knocked again on the now-open door before calling out, “Federal Agents! Is anyone home?”

  After a handful of quiet seconds, she announced her intention to enter. One hand unsnapping her weapon, she stepped inside.

  The hallway branched off to several rooms and had a staircase to the left. He didn’t hear anyone, and no one responded to her announcement. So, not an army then. “You take downstairs?”

  She nodded.

  Sal headed up, gun in front. The search was fast and simple. Furniture was minimal, and most of the closet space in the two bedrooms were empty. He checked under beds and behind hanging curtains.

  As he searched, the conversation he’d had with Allyson crept back into his mind. When had he figured out that he wasn’t getting nearly enough out of his job anymore? The idea must have been working around in his subconscious. It seemed like it took voicing it to Allyson to realize that what he really needed was to breathe that mountain air again. Maybe all the time.

  He was nearing the end of his twenty years as a federal agent. It was past time to take her father’s stance and get away to pray. When was the last time he’d done that?

  “No one down here.”

  “Same up here.” He trotted back down the stairs. “Basement?”

  “Not that I could see.” She took a second, and he could see her mind working on the problem. “We could surveil the house. Sit outside and wait for someone to show up.”

  “Let’s check the garage before we do that,” he said. “We also need to look for a shed, or somewhere else a person could be kept. Did you see any car keys?”

  She shook her head and led the way to a door off the kitchen. Washer dryer. Dry dog bowl. Beyond that was another door. She waited for him to be ready; they nodded to each other, and he pulled the door open.

  Allyson stepped through, gun first.

  “She was in here.”

  He followed her into the garage. It was like stepping into a sauna. Stifling, hot air. A single chair in the middle of the empty space. Not even a box or plastic tote against the walls. On the seat of the folding chair was a smear of blood. Like a hand, or fingers, had wiped across the plastic.

  Someone was held here. Whether that would turn out to be her friend was another question entirely.

  “She could have escaped.”

  Sal crouched and looked at a strand of plastic on the concrete beside one chair leg. “Whoever was here, they broke free.”

  “Let go, or moved? Or she got herself loose somehow.”

  He nodded. Each of those things was possible.

  The reality was that Allyson hadn’t seen this woman for years. She had no idea what kind of person this lady was now, only the person she remembered knowing years ago. For only a matter of a few months, considering they had been first year roommates and Vanessa had gone missing weeks into the spring semester.

  This woman who was also known as Bridget McNamara could—these days—be someone quite different. Capable of all manner of things. Who knew?

  Sal walked back through the house, trying to figure out where she had gone next given this new information.

  He stopped at the back door.

  “Did you find anything?”

  “Another smear of blood.” He pointed at the door. “Right here.” Someone had touched it. On their way out, or in the process of closing the door.

  “I didn’t see that.”

  He shrugged and pulled open the back door.

  “Didn’t your father teach you that stuff? I thought I remembered you telling me that.”

  “Yep.” He stepped out. No shed, no gate that he could see. Was there one on the side of the house? Had Vanessa run out that way?

  Allyson said, “Looking for clues, and finding things most people overlook.”

  He figured it was mostly instinctual at this point. He didn’t have to think much about what he was looking for before he found a sign of someone. Man affecting the world around him. Or her.

  Did he have that much of a grasp on human nature? That fight-or-flight nature, and how it played into the sequence of decisions a person made without even realizing it.

  “Do you even know how you do it?”

  He shrugged as she came to stand beside him. Was she asking about his tracking ability to hide the fact she was now seriously scared for her friend? “Call the local PD. They should get CSU down here to go over all the evidence. I’m sure there’s stuff I missed.”

  “I don’t know about that.” She tipped her head to the side. “It would probably take you years to teach that stuff to me, right?”

  Did she want him to? He glanced up at her, then crouched and looked at the blood on the door.

  “I started learning as soon as I could walk. My father took me with him when he went hiking, hunting, and fishing. Taught me everything he knew. When he was young, he worked as a ranch hand on a huge spread in Wyoming. A true mongrel. Hispanic and Native American with a swatch of Caucasian.”

  “I thought he was a sheriff?”

  “That came later.” His gaze traced the patio, then in a straight line to the back fence. He stood up, hissing out a breath against the aches and pains he tried to ignore.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’ve been doing physical therapy, but I’m still wondering if I’m too old for this. Too many back-to-back injuries.”

  He glanced at her and saw the nod. She said, “You need a month-long vacation.”

  “Ain’t that the truth?”

  They walked together across the lawn. He’d been able to keep it from the team so far, but he wasn’t able to keep it from Allyson. There was something visceral between them, and he couldn’t push it off. Couldn’t ignore it.

  “So you’re not okay.”

  She needed to know if her partner was capable of having her back.

  “It’s nice of you to care, but I’m perfectly capable of doing my job.”

  Ahead of her now, he glanced back and saw her exasperated expression—that roll of her eyes. He smiled to himself while he tracked footprints to the back fence.

  Whoever Vanessa was, and whatever part she played in Cerium, it was clear this woman needed to be found. Regardless of the “off” feeling he was getting from all this. He was a hunter, but that didn’t mean the prey always made that hunt worthwhile. Satisfaction demanded the process feed something in him. Not a cheap imitation most people seemed to settle for so easily these days.

  Sal peered over the back fence and saw what he was looking for.

  Then he turned to Ally and mouthed, She’s right there.

  Chapter 6

  She landed on the grass as quietly as she could. No way to avoid the surprise, though. She’d just jumped over the fence.

  Allyson planted one knee on the gravel in front of a woman. A familiar face and yet, in a way, the person huddled before her was a total stranger. Older. Dressed in black skinny pants and a shredded and stained blousy shirt. Smudges of dirt marred her skin, and she had a deep purple bruise around her eye.

  “Vanessa.”

  The woman flinched, eventually looking up. Blinked. “Allyson.”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  “You found me.”

  “I did.” She reached out. “Can you stand?”

  Vanessa’s eyes shifted over Allyson’s shoulder, looking at something beyond her. Behind her.

  Again she flinched, and Allyson caught a quick intake of breath.

  “That’s my fri
end, Sal.” She touched Vanessa’s elbow and braced to help her stand. “He’s a US Marshal.”

  Vanessa shifted, and Allyson helped her up. “Can you walk?”

  She swayed. “I’m okay.”

  Allyson held onto her with two hands now. Vanessa moved, and then Allyson was swallowed up in a hug. She stiffened, her instincts catching on to how much closer her old friend was to her gun than she was. Then everything rushed back.

  The loneliness. The loss of her friend, the first person after her father’s death who really understood her. She had truly felt a part of Allyson’s life. Other people who knew them both had said they thought Vanessa was a faker, like she was only pulling the wool over Allyson’s eyes.

  No one could fake that level of friendship. Not the way they’d been during that first semester of college. Vanessa had become her family in that short time.

  Then there was Vanessa’s father, who had drawn her into his family as well. As though she and Vanessa were sisters or something.

  The tragedy was that Bill hadn’t lived long enough to see his daughter found.

  “You’re here.” Allyson let out a breath that sounded like it’d been held for ten years.

  “I’m calling an ambulance.” That was Sal.

  Vanessa pulled back, retreating from Allyson’s hug. Eyes wide, her gaze darted around. “No, no, no…no ambulances.” She took two additional steps in retreat.

  She reached out, but Vanessa got too far away. Allyson stopped. What was she going to do, grab her? Allyson tensed. What if her friend ran again? What would she do if Vanessa disappeared again?

  Vanessa glanced between her and Sal, as though at any moment the marshal would attack her.

  “Sal is a friend of mine and a good guy.” The fact she wouldn’t mind being more wasn’t exactly the point right now. “He helped me find you. That’s what he does.” Both the helping part and the finding people part. “You’re safe now, Van. We’ve got you, and we’re going to make sure you continue to be safe and that you get whatever help you need, okay?” Allyson didn’t wait too long, not especially needing an answer to that.

  Sal took a step closer. “Are you hurt, honey?”

  The soft tone of his voice made Allyson want to shut her eyes and just soak in it. Until it clicked that he’d never called her any kind of endearment. Now he was using one on a victim, her friend?

  Allyson shrugged aside her jealousy. “Can you walk? We’ll drive you to the hospital, but we really need to get you checked out.” She gave her friend a small smile she hoped made Van feel better. “Make sure you’re all right.”

  They headed for her car, Vanessa taking shaky steps as Allyson helped her along. Her friend’s clothes were disheveled and dirty. There were smudges on the front of her shirt, blood from her split lip. Still, her clothing was clearly the expensive kind. Well made, maybe even tailored. A blouse. Slacks. She’d lost her shoes. Vanessa’s bloody, cut-up feet left smudges on the concrete as they walked.

  “Almost there.”

  As Bridget McNamara, she had been working for a top pharmaceutical company in San Francisco. She was an executive assistant to one of those c-suite, corner-office types. Not a world Allyson was all that familiar with, but she at least knew enough to know Van clearly hadn’t been a kidnap victim for every one of those years. She’d managed to make something of her life, emerging from that pit to rise high.

  And yet, she hadn’t reached out to anyone throughout that time. She had never called to say she was okay. Not in all the years since.

  They rounded the corner and headed for the car. Vanessa looked over her shoulder at Sal, bringing up the rear and Allyson felt her shudder. Because she was scared of men? She might have been abused. Allyson’s stomach rolled over at the thought of it. She didn’t work sex crimes, but sometimes it was part of what she did. She never liked those cases even if they were a reality of life.

  “Who was at the house with you?” She waited for a second, and when Vanessa said nothing, she asked another question. “Where did they go?”

  Someone had held her. Bound her. Hurt her. Where were they now?

  “I think they left.” Vanessa took a breath. “I got out of the garage. I heard them looking for me, but I think I was pretty well hidden.”

  Sal had managed to find her. The man who had picked up his pace to a run and now approached them, driving the car. Allyson helped her into the backseat and got in beside her. He then drove to the hospital while they sat in silence in the backseat.

  Allyson didn’t know what to say. She prayed the whole way there, lips moving quietly. Once Vanessa was seen by a doctor, and they knew the extent of the damage, then they could figure out how to move forward.

  Would the task force show up then, swoop in, claim her as their witness? Probably Sal had gone to get the car not just because Vanessa shouldn’t walk all that way, but also because it gave him time to call into his office and update them about her rescue.

  Allyson tried not to be mad considering it hadn’t happened yet. But it was a better distraction for her brain than being scared about what Van had been through.

  When Vanessa climbed out of the car at the hospital, Allyson stalled her for a second with a hand on her arm. “I know you’re hurt but…it really is good to see you.”

  Her friend sort of smiled, but it was wobbly and directed at the front doors of the hospital. Allyson spotted the sheen of tears in her eyes. It would be a long process, but time really would bring her friend back to herself. How long would she need Allyson’s help to do that? She intended to stick with Vanessa for as long as it took. She was in this for the long haul, friends forever. Just as they’d sworn to each other years ago.

  Did she know her father had died?

  Sal held the door, and Allyson took her inside. Vanessa refused a wheelchair. She wanted to walk in under her own steam.

  “I’ll give you a hand.” Allyson didn’t really know what to do with herself but thought of something. “With the paperwork and stuff. You don’t need to worry about that.”

  She glanced back and shared a look with Sal before he let go of the door to go park the car.

  For a second there, it almost looked like he was proud of her.

  . . .

  Sal leaned against the wall in the hall, outside the room where Vanessa was being checked out. The woman was clearly in shock, her rich-businesswoman clothes rumpled and stained. Chipped nails, like she’d fought someone. Gashes and scratches that would need to be cleaned. Who knew what internal injuries she had that the doctors hadn’t found. Things that went deeper than the physical.

  Allyson had been in the room since the doctor allowed her back there. Before that, she’d paced the hallway in front of him, back and forth at a clip. Still, in her restlessness, her boots made almost no noise on the floor.

  He’d half expected the rest of his team to show up already. Despite the fact Bridget McNamara was Allyson’s friend Vanessa, they were all anxious to find out what she knew about her boss Kennowich’s activities. The things the team believed he’d been doing for months now. He’d told them to wait. That there was little chance Vanessa would open up to anyone except the woman she knew. The one person in the world right now that she trusted.

  The door swung open before he could figure out how to delay them until a better time. But given Vanessa had just been admitted to the hospital, a better time could be days away. Would Allyson be okay with his team coming in to interview her friend in the meantime?

  Allyson strode out, shut the door behind her. She sucked in a choppy breath, and her expression changed. As though she’d been holding all the emotion back. In one rush it came over her.

  Sal crossed the distance between them and pulled her to him for a hug while she let out a sob. Was she going to lose it? He didn’t think she was the kind of woman who did that readily, but what did he know? She sucked in a few choppy breaths but didn’t break down into actual tears.

  Had Vanessa told her about her experience?
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  He started, “Did she…”

  Allyson stood back, shaking her head. “I had to tell her that her father was dead.”

  Ah. “Soon enough all the hard parts of this will be over. She’ll find joy again, and you’ll be able to help her move past this.”

  She nodded, pulled out her hairband and flipped her head forward. She ran her fingers through her hair, which he figured she did to compose herself. When she straightened to retie her hair, he saw that the wet in her eyes was gone.

  Sal had never been on this end of things. He’d protected witnesses before, but nothing like this. Generally he worked on tracking down fugitives and keeping his team safe. The part where he just kept the rest of the task force alive was in itself a full-time job. Certainly it had been lately. During their most recent investigation, he’d infiltrated a terrorist organization to take them down from inside. He didn’t usually work like this, on the back end, where it was about moving on from the terror of it all.

  “Soon will be nice.” Too bad she didn’t sound super happy about that. “But that’s not the whole reason I came out here, other than just needing a minute’s break. She wants to talk to both of us.”

  “Is she okay?” Did she know who he was, or was she interested in the marshal badge and what he could do for her?

  “She’s been beaten, but the doctor said it was superficial. No broken bones. She wasn’t raped.”

  Thank You, God.

  Allyson nodded, evidently seeing the relief on his face.

  He followed her into the room. Given his impression of the woman and how wary she had been of him, Sal hung back and stayed close to the wall. He didn’t want to freak her out. The fancy clothes had been replaced by a hospital gown. Long blond hair fell past her shoulders, disheveled, making her look younger than Allyson. She picked at the blanket threads, manicured nails ripped and chipped, blood and dirt in the corners.

  The woman had been through enough, and now appeared to have pulled herself together enough to speak with them.