The check on the credit card had turned up some pretty specific information. Charges had been made in the past few weeks for clothes, shoes, toiletries. There were charges for a number of restaurants in the Denver area and a charge for several nights at a run-down motel. Though she knew in her gut he wouldn’t be there, Shauna sent two patrol cars to check it out and see if they could find anyone who could confirm the description given by the bank employee. She was waiting for another call from the credit card company as they continued their investigation. They were her best hope of tracing him.
The two officers she’d sent to the hotel to locate Devlin radioed in that she and Jake hadn’t been seen since the day before. As Shauna instructed, the officers insisted the manager unlock the door to their hotel room. They reported that all the luggage and clothing appeared to be there. The housekeeper claimed when she went in to make up the room early this morning, the bed hadn’t been slept in and no towels had been used. That had Shauna worried.
“What if we give Mike a call?” suggested Scott.
“He’s on his honeymoon in Hawaii,” she replied. “I have no idea how to reach him.”
Shauna’s phone rang. It was the credit card company. Benjamin Matheson had purchased an airplane ticket to Chicago four days ago. Last Friday night, he rented a car in Illinois, in the Quad Cities area. Early Saturday morning, he checked into a motel in Grinnell, Iowa.
“Scott, get over here!” she yelled in his direction. “Look at this!” She pointed at the list of credit card charges on her notepad.
“Shit.”
“Call the sheriff’s department in Pottawattamie County and find out who covers Grinnell. Tell them to get someone out to this motel now. Make sure they know he’s probably armed. And call this rental car agency in Moline. Get a year, make, model, and license plate. Pass on the information ASAP.”
Shauna flipped quickly through the file. Somewhere she had Mary Workman’s home number. Devlin had lived with her for several months. She was pretty sure Mary was already on maternity leave. If anyone would know where Devlin and Jake were, it was Mary.
Chapter Thirteen
“Goddamn it!” William Franz rolled over in bed and looked at the clock. He’d overslept.
Who could blame him? After he sent Margie on her way, he’d been up half the night imagining everything he’d like to do to the little bitch Devlin, if he could get his hands on her. He crawled out of bed and headed into the bathroom. He’d have to hurry without drawing any attention to himself. At least he was confident Farmer Brown wouldn’t show up. For the past three days, he’d appeared at 5 p.m. on the dot. Franz shrugged. Well, that made it easier for him to do whatever the hell he wanted to do.
He showered, shaved, dressed, and packed. Then he checked out of the motel and drove away. He parked at the local supermarket between two full-size pickups. He grabbed a newspaper and walked over to the diner. Breakfast wouldn’t take long. He still had time to get over to Devlin’s. After last night, he didn’t expect her to be there, but he could destroy the place. Franz smiled to himself. That left him plenty of time to get to O’Hare and catch a 6 p.m. United flight to Toronto. Or rather, Benjamin Matheson would catch a flight to Toronto. Bitsy thought of everything. She was something. Or she used to be. Too bad she looked like a hag now. Well, Bill thought dismissively, prison would do that to you. He wasn’t worried about his rental car. He figured it could sit in long-term parking indefinitely. He laughed to himself. At O’Hare, it might sit there for years.
He drove down the highway, passing his turnoff a couple times, until he was certain there was no one around. When he felt the coast was clear, he pulled onto the graveled path. This time he drove farther in, parking behind a grove of trees. Before he locked up the car, he opened the trunk and pulled out the bolt cutters. They would be useful for breaking windows. Then he opened a small toiletry bag and removed a revolver. It was a Smith and Wesson, his favorite firearm. He’d picked it up at a gun show in Denver. Easy. Ben Matheson had a clean record. Bill checked to see that it was loaded, just in case Farmer Brown varied his routine. He tucked it into the back of his pants and closed the trunk.
Checking first for vehicles, he crossed the road ducking his head as he entered the cornfield. Devlin couldn’t have picked a better place to live. No visibility from the highway, no neighbors, no dogs, at least as far as he knew. It was as if she’d chosen the place just for him. Like she was taunting him, saying, Come and get me.
Franz was about to walk right into Devlin’s front yard when he saw a car parked in her drive. He stopped in his tracks and backed into the tall green row of corn. He stood still and opened his mouth slightly, listening for any sound. There was none. Cautious, he checked every side of the house. Except for the black Toyota Celica and a pair of white sandals lying next to it, there was no sign of any living human being. Then he noticed the curtains. Aside from those in the kitchen, they were closed. Yesterday, they’d been open. Franz glanced at his watch. She probably got in late last night, and she was still asleep. Unbelievable! He must have just missed her!
Crouched over, he jogged to the front door and tried the knob. The door was locked. If he broke in, she might have time to call the cops. He wanted to avoid that. Franz looked toward the barn. Eventually she’d have to get up. That’s where he’d wait for her.
He walked to the barn. He removed the broken padlock he’d cut the day before and carefully slid the doors open. He left them wide open and dropped the pieces of the padlock just inside. She wouldn’t see that the lock had been cut until it was too late. Franz sat down in the shadows to the left of the doors. It was a sunny day. She’d be as blind as a bat when she stepped over the threshold. He smiled. Things were looking up.
* * * *
Janice was on her way to Mary’s house, driving as fast as she dared. She assumed Shauna would try to find Devlin, but what if she couldn’t? It was Janice’s fault Devlin had run off yesterday. If she was alone, she was at risk. There was no way of knowing whether or not William Franz had been following her, waiting for an opportunity to pounce. Janice fought back a growing sense of panic. If he hurt Devlin, if he killed her, she was to blame. She’d never forgive herself. If Devlin had contacted anyone, it would be Mary. Janice had to know. She had to know where she was and if she was safe.
As she pulled up to the curb in front of Mary’s house, she saw Jake’s Jeep parked in the driveway. Janice breathed a sigh of relief. Then she remembered, even if Jake was here, she had no idea whether or not he’d found Devlin. She could still be out there somewhere. As far as Janice knew, none of them was aware Franz was back. Taking a deep breath, she climbed out of her car. She’d be lucky if all Mary did was slap her, but she had to tell them.
* * * *
Mary, Katie and Beth were in the middle of baking sugar cookies. They needed something to distract them while they waited for Devlin’s call. Katie had just tipped over the canister of flour. Katie and Beth sat on the floor laughing, trying to scoop it up, while Mike headed to the hall closet for the vacuum. Mary stood with her hands on her hips, breathing through what she hoped was just a Braxton-Hicks contraction. She’d felt them since early morning. Mary toyed with the idea of calling Ken, but he was in surgery. The doorbell rang.
“Mike,” Mary called out, “can you get that?”
“Yeah,” she heard him answer.
The front door opened. Then Mary heard Mike say, “What the hell are you doing here?” before the door shut behind him.
She and Beth exchanged glances. The contraction subsided, and Mary followed him to the porch. Mike stood with Janice. She was crying. Good, Mary thought. She should be crying. Mike motioned toward Jake’s Jeep. She hoped he was reading Janice the riot act. Mary was about to step out onto the porch and do exactly that when she heard Janice plead with Mike to listen. She heard the words “William Franz.”
“What about William Franz?” asked Mary, opening the screen door.
Janice turned to her, her tea
r-streaked face deathly pale. “He’s back,” she said. “I came to tell Jake and Devlin.”
“Jesus Christ!” yelled Mike, darting past both women into the house.
Mary swayed on her feet. Janice grabbed for her and helped her onto the porch swing.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” sobbed Janice. “The police are looking for him.”
“I don’t understand,” said Mary. “How did you find out?”
“He came to see my mom. She told me.”
“Are you sure?” asked Mary.
“Yes,” said Janice, her voice stronger, her sobs subsiding. “Yes, I’m sure. So is Shauna.”
Mary’s phone began to ring just as Mike bolted over the front steps with Jake’s keys in his hands. Beth chased after him, flagging him down as he backed out of the driveway.
“It’s Shauna,” Beth yelled. “She needs to talk to you.”
Mike threw the Jeep in park and jumped out, leaving the engine running. As he ran past them again, he instructed Beth to get Katie out of the house and take her to a neighbor’s. Beth followed him to the kitchen. Mary began to breathe heavily.
“Are you all right?”
“I think,” Mary panted, “I’m in labor.”
Janice was silent for a moment. Then she asked, “How early are you?”
“Three weeks,” panted Mary.
“Wasn’t Katie a little early?”
“Yeah, two weeks.”
“Okay, let’s get you to the neighbor’s too, and we’ll call 911.”
They could hear Mike yelling. Janice helped Mary to her feet as Beth joined them on the porch, Katie in her arms.
“Mary,” said Janice, “where are Jake and Devlin?”
“In Iowa,” Mary replied. “In Grinnell, Iowa.”
Beth appeared on the porch. “Mike wants you. Shauna needs Devlin’s address in Grinnell.”
* * * *
Janice helped Mary to stand as she searched for the address book. They found it near the sink, covered with flour. Both Mary and Mike were trembling. Janice opened the book and found Devlin’s address. She pointed it out for Mike. He couldn’t read it, so she said it aloud, and he repeated it to Shauna, who immediately hung up.
“I have to call Devlin. I have to warn them,” Mike said, his voice filled with horror. His best friend and his best friend’s girl were in terrible danger. “God, I can’t see the number. Read me the number.”
Janice, as pale as a ghost, removed the receiver from Mike’s hand and listened. There was no dial tone. She replaced it in its cradle, then picked it up again, listened, and handed it to him. With steady fingers, she dialed Devlin’s number.
* * * *
Devlin was only half awake when Jake put his hands on her hips. He slid her boxers off and lifted her leg onto his thigh. Without hesitation, he entered her from behind. She gave a little gasp, as she always did, at the intrusion.
“I love it when you do that,” Jake said, lifting her curls and nuzzling the back of her neck, rocking himself in and out of her.
“Do what?” she murmured.
“Gasp like that. And quiver when I first get in.”
“It’s hard not to.”
After an entire night of wild abandon, their lovemaking was gentle, tender, and quiet. Jake brought Dev to her climax and then, groaning in appreciation, came himself one thrust later. Still buried inside her, he pulled her close and nestled her soft, slender body against his hard one. He had almost fallen asleep again when he felt Devlin move away.
“Where are you going?” he mumbled, opening one eye.
He saw her pull on her boxers.
“I thought I’d go make some coffee, see if I have anything to eat,” she replied. “You wait here. I’ll bring something back.”
Jake sat up and grabbed the back of her cutoff tee shirt. He pulled her down onto the bed and kissed her. “Don’t be too long.”
Devlin smiled and tossed her curls out of her eyes. She headed barefoot down the hall toward the kitchen. Jake flopped back on the bed, his hands behind his head and stared at the shadows on the ceiling. For a moment, he thought about how close he had come to losing her, but he shook the feeling off and decided to think about how lucky he was to have her. He was just drifting back to sleep when he realized he needed to take a piss. Jake stretched, reluctantly climbed out of bed, and pulled on his jeans. He headed to the bathroom.
* * * *
Devlin walked into the kitchen and pulled the coffee maker toward her. She removed a coffee filter from a nearby box, filled it with several scoops of coffee, and popped it into the slot. She grabbed the carafe and went to the sink to fill it up. As she stood gazing out the window, she noticed that the door to her workshop was wide open. Devlin stared for a moment. She thought back to last night. Had she looked? Was it open then? She realized she hadn’t gone back there, not after what happened on the hood of the car. Besides, it was too dark last night to see much anyway. Reuben had the key, but she wondered why he would have opened it. Then she remembered. She’d asked him to replace some wiring while she was gone. Mice had stripped the protective covering from some of the wiring he’d installed, and she was afraid she’d get a shock when she plugged in the Crock-Pots she used to melt wax.
Devlin finished up with the coffee maker and unlocked the back door. The early afternoon was beautiful. She stopped for a moment to enjoy the warm sunshine on her face, then closing the screen door behind her, she tripped lightly down the few steps and walked barefoot across the grass to the barn.
“Hey, Reuben,” Devlin called as she approached the barn.
He didn’t answer.
“Reuben,” she called again, stepping inside.
It was dark in the barn with the sun behind her, and she couldn’t see very well. Reuben was nowhere in sight. Devlin shivered, suddenly chilled. She took a step forward, right onto something sharp. Dev reached down and picked it up. It was a piece of the padlock. It had been cut in two. Devlin’s blood instantly froze in her veins. She turned, bolting for the door, but found herself tackled from behind. The wind knocked out of her, she lay on the hard dirt floor. She knew who it was. She could smell him.
“Miss me, girl?” he hissed in her ear, grinding his erection against her back.
Devlin gasped, panic-stricken, unable to catch her breath, unable to scream for help or get away from him. He kept her pressed to the dirt.
“My, how you’ve grown.” His hands were on her bottom, pinching, reaching between her legs. “I thought we could have a little fun before I kill you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”
Devlin clasped her thighs together, bucking, attempting to throw him off.
“Oh yeah, I forgot, you like it rough.” His laugh was coarse. He grabbed her tee shirt and jerked her to her feet. He spun her around to face him. “Aw,” he said, “why’d you have to go and cut your hair? It made it so much easier to drag you around.” Franz threw his head back, laughing at his own joke.
Devlin wasted no time. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward her as she jerked her knee up, hard, into his groin.
“Christ!” he yelped, and he loosened his hold. She dived for the open door.
Franz threw himself after her. He managed to catch her ankle, and she fell against one of her worktables, banging the side of her head, sending the contents of the table flying across the room. He dragged her toward him and spun her around. Devlin clawed at his face.
“Fucking bitch!” Franz backhanded her, his ring catching her in the mouth, splitting her lip. The force of the blow flipped her onto her side away from him. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her stainless steel fabric shears lying on the ground. She knew exactly how sharp they were. She’d cut herself many times. She clutched them in her right hand, hiding them beneath her. Franz grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet. He showed her the gun, waving it back and forth in her face.
“Let’s go.” He pointed the gun toward
the door. “You want to go back in the house? Let’s go back in the house. A bed sounds pretty good to me. Does it sound good to you, you little tramp?”
Devlin jerked her arm from his grasp and ran for all she was worth, Franz right behind her.
“Jake!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, “help me!” before she was tackled and knocked to the grass.
Franz hauled her to her feet again, but this time he wrapped an arm tightly around her throat. “Who you calling for? Farmer Brown? He never comes by ’til five. Yell all you want. Nobody can hear you.” Franz began to drag her toward the house.
* * * *
Jake was just finishing up in the bathroom when he heard the phone ring. He borrowed a toothbrush and began to brush his teeth, expecting Devlin to answer it. Even after he had rinsed his mouth, it was still ringing. He wondered where she was. She obviously wasn’t in the bathroom. There was only one.
Jake wandered down to the kitchen, following the persistent ring. Devlin wasn’t there, but the kitchen door was open. She must have stepped outside for a minute. Jake decided he’d better answer the phone.
“Jake! Thank God!” yelled Mike. Before Jake could utter a word, Mike continued yelling, “Get out of there! Get Devlin out of there! Franz is in Grinnell!”
“Jesus Christ!” yelled Jake. Just then, he heard Devlin scream out his name and the words, “Help me!”
Jake dropped the phone and started toward the door. Then he remembered the shotgun in the bedroom, and he sprinted down the hall. Devlin said she kept it loaded. He reached behind the headboard. Wrapping a hand around the barrel, he raced back toward the kitchen. Through the window, Jake could see Devlin struggling with Franz in the yard. He had an arm wrapped around her throat. He held a gun in his hand.
Jake heard him say, “Yell all you want. Nobody can hear you,” just before Jake burst through the door with the shotgun braced securely against his shoulder. He pointed the barrel unerringly at William Franz’s face. “I hear her,” Jake growled.
Barrett, Julia Rachel - Anytime Darlin' (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 24