~*~
A scrabbling sound accompanied a soft groan. Ange must have awoken and the sudden movement hurt her.
“Ange.” His voice was soft but reassuring. “Don’t be afraid. It’s Nate.”
She wasn’t alone in the dark again. Nate was here. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. But we need to be ready. Have another surprise waiting for Mr. Marks when he opens that door the next time.”
Through her grogginess, she became aware of a lot of stomping going on up above.
“It won’t be too long before he comes back for us.”
Her stomach lurched. “What will we do?”
“The unexpected. He’ll assume we’ll still be down here hiding, but I’ll be on the landing waiting when he opens that door.”
“Is that a good idea? He has a gun.”
“The element of surprise. I’ll get the drop on him before he has a chance to use his gun. I want you to wait down here, but the first chance you get, run up the steps and out of here. Just as we discussed before. OK?”
She didn’t say anything.
“OK? Same idea as before. You go get help.”
“I hate—”
“You promised. And I really need you to get out of here and go find some help.”
“I thought you said your boss would send someone to help.”
“And she will as soon as she figures out I need help. In the meantime, we help ourselves. So you’re running up the steps, and you’ll get out of this house. Right?”
“Fine, but I’m not happy about it.”
“As long as you do it, that’s OK with me. I’ll go up by the door. You wait down here as close to the steps as you can get without being seen.”
“Maybe I should go up with you.”
“No, let’s just stick with my plan.”
He didn’t want her in the line of fire. Why would anyone be willing to die? For her? Tears crowded her eyes. “OK.”
The moment he walked away, a knife in his hand, she felt alone. She stood. Both of her feet had fallen asleep. In the darkness, she quietly moved from side to side, hoping she’d be ready. She moved toward the bottom of the steps and waited. The air shifted, something was about to happen. She could feel it.
Without warning, light came from above as Luther opened the door. The moment the light shone in, the struggle started. Heavy breathing. A moan or a groan as they fought. More bumping. Luther cussing. But no gunshots. Yet.
She moved closer to the steps.
The two shadowed figures were entangled with each other. Who was who? Who was winning? Even with the light from the kitchen, all she could see were shadows. One of the shadows stumbled and then fell backward. The other shadow pushed against his chest. The falling shadow tumbled down the steps toward her.
Nate? Or Luther?
The shadow became a man as he landed near her. Luther. His eyes were open as he reached for her.
She stared, terrified, and then her mind snapped a warning. She charged up the steps.
“Run.” Nate yelled at her as she reached the top. “Keep running.”
She grabbed his arm. “You too. You gotta come with me.”
He gave her a little push out of the stairwell. “I can’t. I have to finish this. Go without me. You promised.”
She didn’t want to leave him, but she nodded. She pounded through the living room, still scattered with broken glass. At the door, she stopped. Nate needed her. But he’d made her promise. She opened the door.
Her feet froze.
~*~
Nate charged down the basement steps two at a time praying the man didn’t have time to recover from the fall. Luther stared up at him, already half off the ground in spite of the stab wound Nate had inflicted.
Their gazes locked in an unspoken battle.
Luther stood with a gun in his hand.
Without thinking, Nate launched himself off the steps toward Ange’s nemesis and made a grab for Luther’s gun. He missed the gun but not Luther.
Luther moaned as he landed on his back on the hard cement floor. Nate fought for traction as he pulled away. The two men grappled for the gun—and their lives. Winner took all.
Nate managed to straddle Luther and his first punch glanced off the man’s chin.
Luther grunted as he tried to push Nate off.
Nate didn’t work out day after day for nothing. It would take more than that to dislodge him. “Stop. It’s over.” Nate gasped and grabbed the man’s flailing hand.
Luther’s response was to punch Nate in the gut. As Nate doubled over in pain, Luther pushed Nate off. “It’s over when I say it’s over and not until.” He crawled away his hands flailing on the floor, apparently in search of the weapon.
Nate lunged toward it, but as he reached, Luther kicked him in the head. Nate’s shoulder slammed hard into the cement floor.
Luther crawled toward the gun.
He couldn’t let him get it. Moving to his knees, Nate charged forward and slammed into Luther’s back. Luther fell forward.
Nate’s arm snaked around the fiend’s throat. “It’s over.”
“I wouldn’t count on that.” The words came out as gasps.
“Then you’ll die.” His arm tightened around his opponent’s neck.
“One of us will.” Luther managed to stand, and in the process, he threw Nate off his back. “But it won’t be me.”
Luther had the gun aimed at Nate.
Luther’s eyes bulged with rage. He fired.
Nate rolled away as the bullet slammed into the cement floor. Using the momentum from the roll, he managed to jump up. He charged at Luther, using his full force as he leaned down, and rammed into the man’s stomach.
~*~
Ange couldn’t believe her eyes.
Three police cars with red and blue lights whirling were in the yard. Why hadn’t they come in yet to help Nate?
“Stop!” a voice commanded. “Don’t move.”
She moved her hands in a surrender position as shown in the movies. “But you need—”
“Shut up and don’t move.” A huge man, well over six feet, walked toward her.
“But—”
Another police officer, a woman, jogged past the huge man. She stopped in front of Ange. “Where’s Nate?”
“In the basement. He needs help. Hurry,” she cried, still keeping her hands up in the air. The woman zoomed away. Ange called after her. “Be careful. Luther has a gun.”
The woman pulled out her own gun. Good.
“I said don’t move,” the man repeated his command.
“I didn’t do anything. I’m—”
“I know who you are. But we still need to do this step by step. So please don’t—”
A gunshot. And then another.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her out of the way, yelling to another officer. “Take her. I’m going in.” He disappeared into the house.
Another officer approached her. He held out his hand. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
Safe. Was she really safe? Really free? She hadn’t thought it possible, but she’d survived Luther Marks. It was over. But what about Nate? Please God, keep him safe. Without Nate, she’d still be in Luther’s torture chamber.
But he couldn’t hurt her anymore.
She stared up at the house. And prayed to God, whom she’d not spoken to in years until this ordeal. “Please, please let Nate survive.”
8
Nate walked into Ange Matthews’ hospital room. His own arm was in a sling, but the doctor said there shouldn’t be any permanent damage. The arm throbbed in spite of the painkillers the doctor had insisted on. But he didn’t want to think about what he’d be feeling without them.
Ange was hooked up to a monitor and an IV. Her eyes were closed and her face was swollen and bruised around the cuts. Although he couldn’t see them, he’d been told there were more cuts on her arms and legs, a testament to Luther’s brutality. She’d been cut and beate
n up on a daily basis during her captivity.
Keren sat in a chair beside her bed. She held Ange’s hand. Her finger moved to her lips to hush him as she whispered. “She’s sleeping.”
“No, I’m not.” Ange opened her eyes.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Nate stood in the doorway. “I just wanted to make sure you were OK before I left.”
She smiled at him, transforming her face into the beauty that Luther had tried to steal. Even in her present condition, her loveliness shone through.
“How could you disturb me? You’re my knight in shining armor. You rescued me.” She grinned as she moved to a sitting position. “I was so worried about you. But they wouldn’t let me see you. They brought me straight here.”
“Yeah, some rescuer I turned out to be. The rescuer had to be rescued.”
“Considering he had a gun and you didn’t, I’d say you did a great job. I can’t thank you enough for…for everything.” Her voice trembled. “What can I do for you? Can I give you a reward?”
“No, you cannot. Just seeing you here alive and well is all the reward I need.”
Her hand touched her swollen face. “I don’t know how well, but I’m alive.” She grinned. “Thanks to you, my hero.”
“I’m not a hero. I was only doing my job. You’re the hero.” Nate moved to the foot of Ange’s bed.
“Not me. You’re the one who saved me and you know it. So stop the modest act. If you hadn’t started checking on me, I’d still be in that filthy room.” Her eyes closed, and he knew she was back there with Luther. She opened then and met his gaze. “Or dead. He’d told me he would kill me that night. And I believed him.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t even think about it.” Keren shook her head, looking distraught. “It’s all over now. You never have to see that awful man again. Or even think about him.”
“You should thank your cousin. She reported you missing. If she hadn’t come in…” He shrugged. “Well, let’s just say I’m glad she decided to.”
“And you’re the one who found me. I’m grateful to both of you.”
“There you have it.” Keren laughed. “We’re all heroes.”
“Especially you. For surviving. That couldn’t have been an easy thing to go through.” Nate’s voice was soft.
“Well, it’s all over now. She never has to think about any of it ever again.” Keren hugged her cousin. “She can get on with her life.”
That was easier said than done. He’d had his share of trauma as a marine, and then later as a Chicago cop. He only hoped Keren was right. Ange had suffered enough. “Are they done interviewing you?”
She nodded. “For now. They said I could get some rest and we’d start again in the morning.” Her blue eyes gazed at him. “What happened to Luther? Did you…”
“Dead. Leslie shot him. When she’d come down those steps, Luther could have given up. Instead he pointed the gun at her. And then it was over.”
“Good. That’s what he deserved,” Keren said.
Luther’s death saddened him. As long as he was alive, the man had a chance to find God. Now that chance was gone. But that had been his decision. Not Leslie’s or Nate’s.
“At least he won’t be able to hurt anyone else. Did…did they...find anyone else there? You know what I mean. Anyone…” Ange swallowed. “Anyone dead?”
“The FBI’s searching his property. They were called in because this deals with a kidnapping, and at least two states are involved in the case. Could be more. He liked to move around. Didn’t stay any place for longer than a year or two. Last I heard there are missing women from every town he lived in. Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s responsible.”
“But I’m sure he is. At least for some of them.” Ange’s eyes glazed over. She was, again, back in that room with Luther.
“He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe.”
“That’s right,” her cousin said. “He can’t hurt you anymore, Ange.”
“Don’t call me Ange. I never want to hear that name again. Ever.”
Her cousin blinked at the vehemence in Ange’s voice.
Nothing was over for this poor woman. She’d been through so much. If the instruments that had been found in that room were any indication, it would be a long time before she’d forget—if ever. It would take time to heal—both physically and emotionally.
“But that’s your name. What do you want me to call you, then?” Keren asked.
“Call me Angelina. That’s my real name, remember?” Her voice was grim.
“If you say so.”
He smiled at her. “Angelina. I like it. That’s a beautiful name, just like its owner.”
She shook her head. “I’m not beautiful. I’m…I’m…” Tears streamed down her face. Her words were lost in her sobs.
Keren looked at Nate then put her arms around her cousin. “Ange…Angelina. Don’t cry. It’s all over. You’re safe now.”
Angelina looked up at Nate. “I’ll never feel safe again.”
“It will take some time, Angelina, but you’ll be able to put this nightmare behind you. Someday. I promise.”
“If you say so.” Her mouth lifted, not really a smile, through her tears.
9
“Hey, Chief.” Diane, one of his co-workers, stopped at his desk.
“What’s up, Diane?” Nate looked up from the form he was filling out, one of many.
“Just wanted to let you know I happened to drive past The Matthews estate earlier. I couldn’t believe it.”
“Believe what?”
“It looks bad. The grass looks as if it hasn’t been mown in weeks.”
“That’s not against the law.”
“I know that. It looks as if it’s been abandoned. That got me thinking.”
“About what?”
“How she is—if she’s OK.” Diane leaned against his door. “I’m just worried about her, you know. She went through a lot. I know she doesn’t have much family.”
Diane didn’t have to say who the she was. Ange—Angelina Matthews. Her kidnapping and rescue had made the national news, and it had been fodder for local gossip for the past four months.
“She was OK the last time I saw her, but that’s been months ago. She was still in the hospital then.” After all the trauma she’d suffered, she probably wasn’t OK.
“I actually hung around with her some when we were kids. My mom worked for them so we’d play together sometimes. She was nice. A little spoiled, but still nice. Just thought maybe you’d want to check on her.”
“Why me?”
“Why not? You’re her hero. That’s what she told all the papers.” Diane grinned.
“I don’t know about all that. But still it might be a good idea. Thanks for the update.”
“No problem, Chief. Or should I call you Mr. Hero?”
“Nate will do just fine.” He tossed a paper clip at her as she walked away.
Nate stared at his ever-growing mountain of paperwork. He hadn’t become a policeman so he could spend his days behind a desk. But with Leslie’s departure, he’d become chief, and all his time seemed to be spent doing exactly that. He was sure his part in the rescue of Angelina Matthews was the deciding factor in his new job. He tapped the desk with a pen. He had to deal with this, but not right now. He should get out from behind this desk. Of course, checking on Angelina Matthews wasn’t exactly police work. But he could make sure she was all right—if she needed anything.
She’d been through so much trauma. It was difficult to get back to a normal life after such an ordeal. He probably should have checked on her sooner. Within seconds, he had his hat and keys to one of the cruisers in his hand. He’d just take a drive around town, and head out that way.
Going down the long driveway to the Matthews’ home, he was appalled.
Diane had been polite when she’d said the lawn needed mowed. It needed harvesting, probably with some type of heavy farm equipment. The average lawn mower couldn’t deal
with this brush. Angelina must be in a bad place for her not to notice the unkempt aura of neglect. She could pay for the best of services.
But then, he knew personally how hard it could be to trust anyone she might hire.
Nate parked in front of the mansion. The red brick circular drive led to a matching thirty-foot red brick walk. On both sides stood huge cement pillars so no one would drive on the walk. The house was brick as well, the same shade as the sidewalk leading up to it. There were stripes of decorative white bricks at both ends that broke up the red. The white bricks also surrounded the windows, making it seem as if there were shutters. To the right of the house was a matching building, but smaller, although it was still huge. A garage? It was more elaborate than any garage or storage unit he’d been in. It looked to be two stories. He glanced back at the house. The main house had three stories.
He stepped out of his car and walked up to the door. Shoots of green were popping up between the bricks. Another sign that the house and lawn weren’t being cared for. The entire place had an empty feeling as if it had been abandoned. He rang the buzzer several times. No sounds came from inside, except the intricate chimes of the doorbell. He glanced around at the desolation again.
Angelina wasn’t here.
Where was she? Why wasn’t she taking care of her home?
It wasn’t his business. But he sighed, knowing he didn’t really believe that. One of his life verses was Second Corinthians, verse one. “And the God of all comfort who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”
Nate took the Bible very seriously. Scripture was part of the reason he’d become a police officer. God had helped him through several traumatic events. His calling was to return the favor for others.
And from the looks of this place, Angelina Matthews might be in need of God’s comfort.
~*~
Two hours later, Nate pulled up in front of a tiny house in the Old Brooklyn neighborhood of Cleveland. Its lawn was well-maintained, unlike the Matthews’ home.
He’d gone back to the station and looked up Keren’s address on the missing person’s form she’d filled out. If Angelina wasn’t staying at her own house, she might be with her cousin.
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