by Tracy Sharp
I shot her in the chest.
She fell back and her eyes widened as she hit the floor. She blinked several times, and then her gaze found me. She smiled. Both hands moved over her belly. “She’s coming with me.”
I found my cell on the counter and dialed 911, and prayed they’d get to my house before she died.
But she died a few moments later, staring right at me from my kitchen floor.
Chapter Seventeen
Police and EMTs filled my kitchen and living room. I tried to answer their questions as best I could, but I felt my eyes roll back into my head and went away for a while.
* * *
I was down for the count for four days. Jack stayed with me, not leaving the house for anything. If we needed something, he called someone to bring it.
The first night, I dreamed of Callahan. I felt his lips kiss mine lightly, and the backs of his fingers brush my cheek, and then he was gone.
* * *
“We are not working on this case until you’re really up to it, Kicks. Okay?” Jack said, placing homemade soup in front of me. I sat at the kitchen table, almost floating on the smell of tomato and basil. His minestrone soup was incredible.
“Okay,” I said, blowing on a spoonful of soup. “But I really am feeling much better.”
“You’re a ways from being a hundred percent,” he said, taking bread from the bread maker he’d bought me the previous Christmas. He sliced a few pieces off and placed them on the table, next to the butter.
“Honey wheat,” I said. “You are amazing.”
“Yes, I am.” He winked at me.
We stayed in and watched movies, me lying with my feet on his lap and his feet up on the coffee table. And I felt safe and happy, and wished things could stay like this, and that we’d never have to leave my house again.
But Jack nursed me back to health and life had to go on.
* * *
Nine days after Vicky died on my kitchen floor, I’d decided I’d take one more day to hang with Pango. Jack was at our office, working on the white board.
I took a long bubble bath with Pango lying next to the tub, and went to bed early.
When I opened my eyes, she seemed to know and her tail wagged, hitting me in the face. “Hey pretty girl. Back to work day.”
I lay on my back, stretching. I had to pee badly. I was certain that Pango did too.
“Me first, then you, okay? You can get away with peeing on the floor. Me? Not so much.” I got up and headed to the bathroom with Pango at my heels. “Besides, I like these pajama bottoms.”
I felt pretty good. Rest really did do wonders. And having Jack take care of me didn’t hurt. I sighed, thinking, not for the first time, that I’d be lost without him.
We went through the kitchen, bright with sunshine, and I pulled on my boots and coat. Pango didn’t need a leash, so I just opened the door and out we went.
Snow blanketed my entire yard. It was everywhere, draped over the tree branches, my car, everything. I lifted my face and breathed the cold air into me as we headed toward the woods. This silent, peaceful moment was what I needed. I found that nothing calmed my soul as much as a dog could. I watched Pango jump around in the snow, bury her nose in it and come back out, shaking her head wildly, bits of snow flying from her fur in every direction. She pranced and trotted, and ran circles around the yard.
I laughed at her, wishing we could just stay in that moment forever. I already loved her more than I could even fathom. The snow sparkled around us in the sunlight, and I heard tree branches cracking from the cold. Pango spotted a squirrel and chased it up a tree, smiling and panting as she went. She barked at the squirrel playfully, and even the memory of the dog chasing me up the tree while I ran for my life a couple of weeks before couldn’t mar the moment.
But it was just a moment. A phone call not long after we got back into the house darkened my joy.
“Mrs. Ryan?” the bubbly, happy voice asked.
“Ms.” I corrected. Christ. A telemarketer? I had to be nice. It could be a client.
“Oh, I just assumed…but then lots of single women are having babies these days. It’s cool.”
I frowned. Pregnant women? “Who is this?”
“It’s Rina Ostrom, from Madelyn’s Maternity?” She paused. “You were in a few weeks ago. You bought the gorgeous red holiday sweater.”
At first I was confused as to why she was calling me. Was there a problem with my credit card? Then I remembered that I’d been asking about Alexia Clemmons.”
“Oh! Yes. Hi. Sorry. Baby brain.”
She laughed. “I understand. You haven’t made it back in. I hope everything’s okay.”
“Oh yeah. I’m fine, thank you. Something came up and I couldn’t make it back in.” If only she knew what the last few weeks had been like.
“Good. Well, I hope you don’t mind me calling you at home. I got your information from your credit card receipt. I would never call a customer at home unless there was a problem with the card. Don’t worry, that’s not the case with you. The reason I’m calling you is because I spoke with one of the girls who just remembered something about your friend yesterday.”
“Really?” My heart thudded.
“Yes. Your friend didn’t come in with anyone, but a girl approached her while she was here. They struck up a conversation and they left together.” Her voice was a stage whisper. “I don’t have all the details but if you want to speak with Gina she said you can meet us at my house, if you like. She’s a little nervous about the whole thing. She said she knew that something was off but forgot about it. She feels bad for not telling the police about this person, but she honestly didn’t remember it.”
I thought that was odd. It was likely closer to the truth that her friend Gina was just scared and didn’t want to get involved. “Sure. Where do you live?” I grabbed a pen from my kitchen counter and an empty envelope from a bill I’d torn open at some point. I jotted the address down.
“You can come now, if you like. She has to get to work in an hour. So you’d better hurry.” It sounded like she was covering the phone, and she whispered. “I think she might lose her nerve. She’s really freaked out about the whole thing.”
“I’ll be right there.”
I ran upstairs to find the pregnancy pad I’d bought and put it on quickly, pulling a large sweater over it. I looked at myself in the mirror to make sure the belly looked real, then went back downstairs, grabbed my car keys, and left, telling Pango I wouldn’t be long.
She looked sad as she watched me go, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before she went back to her breakfast.
I considered calling Jack, but I knew he’d want to come with me. If he showed up, he might spook Rina’s friend, and cause her to clam up. So I decided against it. The conversation shouldn’t take long anyway. I’d just find out what the girl remembered and leave her to get on her way to work. If I needed to talk to her again, I’d bring Jack the next time.
Rina lived on the outskirts of town in an old farm house. She’d said that I’d have to travel along a dirt road for about two miles before I’d get to the house. There were a couple of old abandoned houses on the way, but I didn’t see any that appeared to be lived in. It was a pretty drive with the sun shining on the snow, making the frozen flakes look like shimmering diamond chips. I always loved that effect.
I found the house and parked in the long drive way. The farmhouse was large and homey, painted a sage green; a color that was big a few years ago. I wondered if she rented or if it was a family home, passed on through generations.
There was a cellar on the side of the house, with old fashioned dirt cellar doors leading down into it. That kind of cellar always gave me the creeps. I didn’t know how anyone could go down into one without getting the willies. The door had a large padlock on it. I guessed it gave Rina the willies too. Although these days, you’d be crazy to leave doors leading into your house like that unlocked.
I knocked on the large white do
or. This was a coffin door. I’d seen them before, enormous and cracked through the white paint. A door used in the eighteen hundreds to carry coffins through into the homes of the deceased. I felt a shiver run through me. These doors had never freaked me out before. But now I was nervous, realizing that I really should’ve called Jack. I reached in my bag for my cell.
The huge door opened a crack and I saw Rina’s round face smiling through at me. I felt immediately better. Her smile was warm and friendly, and made me feel at ease.
“Come on in.” She opened the door wider and I stepped through quickly, not wanting her to get cold standing there waiting for me.
“It’s freezing out,” I said.
“Yeah, winter in the Northeast. They’re actually calling for another Nor’easter later, but this time with snow instead of that freezing rain we got last time. We’re getting the storm early this year, I guess.”
“Oh you’re kidding.” I hadn’t been watching the weather or listening to the radio. I’d been avoiding the news like the plague, actually. I didn’t want to hear anything about Gabriel’s cult or the missing babies, or missing pregnant women.
“No, I wish I were,” she said. “Come this way. Do you drink coffee?”
“Absolutely.” I couldn’t wait to wrap my hands around a hot mug of steaming coffee.
She led me to a large, bright yellow country kitchen. It was a sunny room with pictures of sunflowers and daisies hanging on the walls. Sunflower placemats adorned the table, and a vase of silk daisies sat in the middle on a lace doily.
“This is a lovely house. I love the kitchen,” I told her.
“Thanks. I spend most of my time in this room.” She placed a large mug in front of me, and cream and sugar on the table between us. She down at the table and smiled at me.
I blinked, suddenly remembering that there should be another girl here that was supposed to tell me about what she remembered about Alexia. Had she told me the girl’s name? Gina. That was it.
“Where is your friend?” I asked her, sipping the coffee. It was delicious, rich and strong. “Wow. This is delicious.”
“Thank you. I love coffee too, so I get the good stuff and grind the beans myself. This is one hundred percent Columbian.” She took a long sip of her own coffee.
She hadn’t answered my question. Hadn’t she said that her friend was here? I couldn’t quite recall. I frowned, sipping more coffee to give her a little time. “Is she on her way?”
She looked momentarily confused. “Oh, yeah. She was running a little late. She’ll be here any minute.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay. I hope she won’t be late for her shift.”
“She’ll just call in. She’s always late.” She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah?” Weird. I knew I heard her say that she only had a little time to talk and then needed to get to work. Didn’t sound like somebody who was always late. “What’s her name?”
She paused, looking at me, something passing over her eyes. “Beth.”
Fingers of dread clutched my stomach. I knew she’d said the friend’s name was Gina. “Beth. That’s a name you don’t hear anymore.” I kept my breathing steady and sipped more coffee. “Is she an Elizabeth? Or was she born just Beth?”
Rina stared at me for a moment. Shrugged. “I don’t know. She never said.”
I looked at the windows, draped with lace curtains. They looked out over a large yard. “Is this a family home? Passed on to you?”
“Yeah. On my mother’s side. She’s in her room, resting.”
I had an image of an elderly woman confined to her bed. With rope. Or electrical tape. I had a major case of the creeps. “Oh, you care for your mother?”
“Yeah. Somebody has to.” She eyed my belly. “How far along are you now?”
“Thirty-eight weeks.” I’d remembered a friend of mine being thirty-eight weeks when she gave birth early, so that number popped into my head. I moved a hand over the bump and patted it. “Getting tired.”
“I bet. But thirty-eight weeks is pretty far along. The baby would survive if something happened.”
If something happened. I frowned at her. Kept my voice even. “Like what?”
“Well, like if he or she happened to be premature. The baby would survive. The lungs are developed enough now that the baby wouldn’t need an incubator or anything to help it breathe.”
I said nothing, feeling more alarmed by the second. I should’ve called Jack. Even if he’d just stayed in the car, I should’ve called him. “I need to make a phone call.”
“Do you know what you’re having yet? Or do you want it to be a surprise?” She acted like she hadn’t heard my question.
“We want it to be a surprise. We just buy a lot of yellow and green.” I smiled at her.
“Where is your husband now?” She asked me.
I didn’t like the look in her eyes. They didn’t seem warm or friendly anymore. Instead, they seemed narrow and cagey.
“He’s working.” My eyes felt heavy and my head swam. I needed to call Jack. I reached for my bag. Rina pulled it back from me, out of my reach.
“I need to go.” I tried to turn around to reach for my jacket but couldn’t get my body to listen.
“No. You’re fine,” Rina said.
My head suddenly seemed to drop back. I brought it forward, blinking my eyes hard a few times. Rina watched me, a strange little smile on her face.
A dark realization crept over me. I looked down at my coffee mug. It was almost empty. “Drugged,” I managed, squinting at her, trying to make her out among the warping shapes. I felt drool slide over my chin. Drugged. Again. Shit.
“Yes,” she said, her smile wide.
The world tilted.
* * *
I awoke in the dark. My head pounded and my mouth was cotton dry. I felt sick, and dry heaved over the side of the bed I was lying on. I sat slowly up, feeling my belly. The belly pad was still in place. I was wearing the thick, cable knit sweater over it, so it would be hard to tell if it moved. Rina had to have dragged me in here. No easy task. I lift weights, so I’m not a light woman. Good thing. If I were too light for her to believe that I was pregnant I might be dead instead of stowed away in a dark room in an old farmhouse by a lunatic.
I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. It was the second time I’d been drugged in less than a month by a maniac. Evidently, I was a slow learner. I listened for any movement, but heard nothing. I looked around, trying to make out the shapes in the room. There didn’t appear to be any windows down here. It was too dark.
She’d said her mother was resting. Was she keeping her drugged too and stealing her social security checks? I was willing to bet she was. I was also willing to bet that my bag and all its contents, including my wallet and my gun, were upstairs.
Wonderful. If Rina hadn’t had an adequate weapon before, she had a dandy one now.
I tried to steady my breathing. There had to be a light in here somewhere. I slowly got off the bed, still feeling nauseous. What the hell had she given me? My legs felt weak and my entire body trembled. I put my hands out in front of me, moving my feet a little at a time. I felt nothing but dead air space. Panic was threatening to overtake me, sending screams up into my throat that I didn’t release. I swallowed them down.
I did a slow circle, squinting my eyes try to make out anything in the room. It was pitch black. I breathed in through my nose. The air was damp and musty.
Oh Christ. Don’t let me be in the cellar, please, God.
No, the floor was carpeted. Couldn’t be the cellar. I crept along with my arms forward. My fingers touched a cold surface. A wall. I moved them in and up, then down, and in a side to side motion, looking for a light switch. It seemed to take forever. I could almost hear the seconds ticking by. Every second bringing me closer to the moment I would hear the footfalls of a psycho on the stairs.
Come on, come on. She’d be coming back down at some point. I continued my slow walk around the room, moving my hands
along the wall. I felt cobwebs, and something skittered over my fingers. I almost screamed, pulling my hands back. I took several deep breaths and continued. My fingers moved over a switch. I flipped it and the room flooded with light.
I blinked my eyes several times, trying to get them adjusted to the sudden brightness. I was in a basement room of some sort; the light came from a single light bulb in the ceiling. The carpet I’d felt under my feet was a huge area rug. An old, wide plank floor lay beneath it. The bed I’d been lying on sat on the other side of the room. The covers looked clean enough. There was a side table with drawers. On the other end of the room was an old sink jutting out of the wall and a toilet, on the back of which sat a roll of toilet paper.
I’d been right. There were no windows. There was a door, which I already knew would be locked, but I went over and tried it anyway. Nothing. My former life as a car thief had taught me about picking locks, so I could pick locks with the right tools. But this door was likely dead bolted from the outside.
Still, I needed to find something I could use to pry the door open with. I went over to the bedside table and opened the drawers. Nothing. Completely empty.
Fear and adrenaline made my limbs move a little better as I walked back to the door. I pushed on it as hard as I could before it started to creak. It was definitely locked from the outside. I pushed my way down the door. More than one lock, it felt like. Bar locks on the other side. Two, maybe three. The door was thick and heavy. I could probably kick against it all day long and it wouldn’t budge.
I moved my hands over my face, slid my back down the door and sat on the floor.
Oh, Jack. I am in so much trouble.
And I never told him where I was going. I didn’t tell a soul. Nobody knew where I was.
Like the missing pregnant women, I had simply vanished.
* * *
I listened with my ear to the crack in the door, closing my eyes to sharpen my sense of hearing. Nothing. Was Rina gone? I wondered if her mother was bedridden. If I screamed out, would she be able to call the police? I knew that the other missing pregnant women had been here. They must’ve screamed. Cried out. Banged on the walls. None of which helped them. It wouldn’t help me, either.