Till Justice Is Served

by Jerrie Alexander

  "Coach thinks the boy is also having problems at home. We thought he'd speak more freely if you both spoke to him."

  Principal Mueller stopped at the exit to a stairwell and opened and held the door for her. "Sean's waiting in the coach's office. You go ahead. I don't want him to feel like we ganged up on him."

  "I'll let you know how it goes." Erin jogged down the stairs. She stopped at the second-floor landing when she heard a scuffling sound coming from behind. Swallowing, she turned quickly. No one was there. Shaking off her jumpy nerves, she hurried down the final steps, pushed the metal bar on the door, and stepped outside.

  The prick in her neck happened quickly. She opened her mouth to scream, and a cloth was stuffed into her mouth. Someone held her from behind. She struggled to free herself, but her legs and arms grew heavy. Fighting against sleep proved futile.

  ****

  Casanova's heart pounded painfully against his rib cage. Absolutely everything rode on the next few minutes. The minute he'd heard she was returning to work, he'd known this was a sign. He'd parked his car at the side exit, out of sight and safe because the practice field was empty this time of day. Scooping his soon-to-be bride into his arms, he placed her in the backseat. As a precautionary measure, he covered her with an old blanket.

  Casanova drove carefully, minding the speed limit and using care not to draw attention. It wasn't unusual for him to go home for lunch, so he pulled into his garage, got out, and lowered the door. Once inside safely, he almost wept with joy. He'd done it. He and Erin would be together forever.

  Erin would write a letter announcing that she needed some time alone and would be out of touch for a while. By the time she rejoined society, they'd be an old happily married couple. People would see how happy they were, and no one would ask questions.

  Time was critical, so he carried Erin inside and down the stairs to the storm shelter. The ladder's narrow steps presented a problem, and he slipped once, banging his elbow and her head against the wall. Her moan sent his heart racing again. Once he had her on the bed, he removed the cloth from her mouth then ensured she was breathing easily.

  She was beautiful, eyes closed, resting peacefully. How stunning she would look in the wedding dress. He lifted it gently and laid it across her body. He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "I'll be home soon, my love."

  Casanova hurried up the stairs, closed and secured the heavy metal door, then placed the carpet in its proper place. A flutter of irritation washed over him. He'd worked so hard for this moment, and yet, he couldn't stop and enjoy it. He shook off the self-pity.

  Later, when Erin understood everything he'd done so they could be together, she would demonstrate her appreciation, making all his hard work and patience worth it.

  ****

  Erin tried to ignore the headache while she fought her way to consciousness. She opened her eyes to total darkness. A scream hit the back of her throat, but she swallowed it back. Remaining calm would be difficult, but nothing good would come from her losing control.

  "Hello? Is anybody there?" Silence answered her. "If somebody is here, please say something."

  Erin pushed herself up. Something soft slid off her chest and onto her lap. A quick check told her it hadn't been a piece of her clothing. Whatever it was, it didn't belong to her, so she shoved it to the floor. Questions jammed her mind, flooding in like a high-speed train. Panic bubbled up again.

  Stop. Get a hold of yourself.

  There had to be a way out, and she had to find it. Cautiously, she stood and scooted one foot along the floor. Then she repeated the process, shuffling her feet and holding her arms out in front of her. Terrified of what she might find, but more afraid of what would happen if she didn't try, she moved at a snail's pace. The question "why?" kept coming to mind.

  She'd taken only five steps when her hands found a wall. The surface was cool to the touch. If she could only see her surroundings, she could figure out what to do. One hand over the other, she shuffled sideways before finding a corner and second wall. Wherever she was, the room didn't seem to be very large. Best she could tell the room was the size of a jail cell. Something flicked across the top of her head. Startled beyond words, she stumbled backward. Her arms flailed through the air as she tried to maintain her balance. Unable to steady herself, she fell, landing on the cold, hard floor. Pain shot from her tailbone up her spine to her head.

  Erin screamed her frustration and anguish. Her voice reverberated, bouncing back at her, sounding as if she was in a tunnel. She brushed a hand across her cheek to find tears running down her cheeks. When had she started crying? Angrily, she wiped her face dry. Now wasn't the time for fear or self-pity. But the dark was maddening.

  She stood and resumed her hand-to-wall shuffle. Determined to locate a window or door, she clenched her jaw and forced herself to move.

  Hope flooded her heart when her fingers wrapped around the bar of what might be a ladder. Yes. She ran her hand up the cool metal and grasped another rung. Searching, she located a secure place for her foot and started an ascent. Her footing was bad, and her sense of balance a disaster. The top of her head crashed into some barrier. Tears rushed to the surface with the impact, but she ignored them, running her hand over the surface until she found a handle or lever. Clinging to a rung with one hand and trying to move the metal bar used every muscle and ounce of strength she could muster.

  "Help," she cried out. "I'm here." Refusing to give up, she pulled, pushed, and tugged until her voice grew weak and her limbs began to tremble and cramp.

  Exhausted, she slipped and slid back to the hard floor. Sweat had soaked through her blouse, and a shiver raced across her shoulders. Erin gathered her strength and felt her way to what might be a small bed. Her hand felt something soft. Was that what she shoved to the floor? She pulled it next to her, tried to figure out what the yards of material were, using that to occupy her mind. Anything to blot out the word trapped, which circled in an unending loop through her thoughts.

  To stave off the rising panic, she had to do something, anything. She stood, put her hands on the wall, and resumed her search. Her knee bumped into something, pulling a yelp of pain and surprise from her clenched teeth. She knelt and opened a small door. The interior light of an apartment-size fridge shone brightly. The bulb was small in size and wattage, but the faint illumination it provided was very welcome. Relief washed over her as her tense nerves relaxed a little.

  Erin opened the door all the way and looked around. A chill shook her body. She'd been placed in a dull-gray metal bunker. One small cot, the fridge, and a camp potty left little room to move around. Hanging from the ceiling was a pull string attached to a bare light bulb. That's what had brushed across her head earlier.

  She stood, reached up, and then tugged on the string. It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the glare. Erin picked up the pile of white material on top of the cot. Bile charged the back of her throat. In her hands, she held a wedding dress. She was to be somebody's bride. Expected to wear yards and yards of lace for some madman.

  She charged the ladder, quickly reaching the top. She pounded with her fist until she couldn't raise her arm any longer. Despair wrapped around her like a damp gray blanket on a cold winter day.

  What if nobody ever found her?

  What kind of monster had done this?

  Principal Mueller had left her at the top of the stairs, hadn't he? Had he helped set her up? He didn't seem capable of attacking Linc or murdering two young women and the photographer. He was a politician, an executive, and a bit of an awkward flirt. But she'd seen through his façade, known he was insecure, full of self-doubt, and that his handshaking and backslapping were a cover-up.

  Had he quietly followed her down the stairs? If not him, who? Had Coach Evans tricked the principal into sending her out the side door?

  She had no memory of how she got to wherever she was. Where the hell was here? And how long had she been here? She didn't wear a watch, choosing to che
ck the time on her cell. But without either one, she had no way of measuring what day today was or if it was day or night. She shut the fridge door, crawled onto the cot, and pulled her knees to her chest. Tremors racked her body.

  Rafe. He'd probably gone in the school looking for her and by now was searching for her. Had he exploded in anger or kept his cool? He'd use all of his resources to find her. Of that, she had no doubt. The question most pressing was would she be alive when he found her? And who would tell Jeff and Lotty?

  The silence seeped into her soul. The sound of her heart racing roared in her ears. Her imagination pulled at her sanity like a runaway horse.

  How strong was her mind? Could she endure living in captivity? Damn right, she could.

  Erin replaced fear with anger. Many years ago, she'd become an expert at being a survivor.

  CHAPTER 21

  Parked in a visitor's spot right in front of the school, Rafe lifted his sunglasses off and put them on the dash of his car. Nothing would hinder him from spotting Erin when she came outside.

  Today had been productive. Colton had provided his information from last night's surveillance to the narcotics squad, and bright and early this morning, the local PD had picked up Grace and hauled the sleepy young woman downtown. She'd recently turned eighteen, which meant she could be questioned without the department having to wait for her parents to fly home. Rafe would've liked to know what was going down, but this was Colton's case. Erin was his responsibility.

  Funny how badly he'd missed having her around today. Even while he and Luke worked through family issues concerning their dad, she'd popped into Rafe's thoughts entirely too often.

  His gaze shifted to the car's clock. Erin was five minutes late. The hair on his arms rose. The hell with waiting. He got out, jogged up the sidewalk, and walked in the school.

  "Mr. Sirilli." Mrs. Henley met him just inside the building. "What brings you here so late in the day?"

  "I'm giving Ms. Brady a ride home." He moved to go around her.

  Shaking her head, she said, "She's already left."

  An icy hand gripped his heart and squeezed. "Impossible. She promised to wait for me. I've been outside for over thirty minutes. She'd have seen me waiting."

  "I don't know what to tell you." Mrs. Henley lifted a shoulder. "I just walked down to her office to remind her that Principal Mueller wanted to see her today, but she wasn't there. I assure you, her office is empty."

  Rafe ran full speed, sliding to a stop at the closed door. Erin's office was dark. He tried the door handle. Locked. His stomach dropped to his shoe tops.

  Erin was gone.

  "I told you," Mrs. Henley said, arriving a few seconds after Rafe. She huffed out each word.

  "Do you have keys for this office?"

  "Not with me. Aside from there being confidential information inside, Ms. Brady is a stickler for everything being kept tidy."

  "I need that door unlocked." Rafe felt the nerves in his jaw bunch. Her eyes widened. He was scaring her, but it couldn't be helped. She glanced back toward the front of the school as if looking for help.

  "Is the principal still here?" He paused until she nodded. "Get him and the keys, while I call the cops." Rafe took out his cell.

  She turned and hurried away.

  Rafe's first call was to Wade Beckett, who after being apprised of the situation took over the necessary notifications. Next, he called Colton and repeated what he'd just shared with the police.

  "I'm on my way."

  Rafe decided against alerting Erin's adoptive parents until he had more to tell them. Shoe heels hitting the tile floor sent hope rushing through his system. He spun, hoping to find Erin hurrying to him, full of explanations and apologies. His neck muscles tightened. The footsteps belonged to the principal and Mrs. Henley.

  "What's this about Ms. Brady missing?" Principal Mueller's superior tone slid up Rafe's spine like a knife.

  "I believe Erin has been kidnapped."

  "And what are you basing that on?"

  "I don't have time to explain it. You'll have to take my word. I need to look around her office."

  "Shouldn't you wait for the police?" Mrs. Henley protested.

  "Mr. Sirilli is FBI. Of course, he can go inside." The principal's tone had changed. He unlocked the door and moved out of the way. "Mrs. Henley, you go on home. I'll stay just in case I can help."

  The conversation between the principal and his assistant barely registered with Rafe. His attention was keyed on Erin's workspace. He stood very still while his gaze traveled across every inch. Faint and soft, her perfume filled his senses. Just like her home, books, pictures, and student memorabilia lined the shelves. The computer was off, her chair pushed away from her desk, and the light had been off. Had somebody wanted it to appear as if she'd left for the day? Mrs. Henley's previous comment about Erin's love for organization told a different story.

  A folder lay open on the desk with papers scattered around it as if she had been in the middle of something. The blazer she'd worn to work this morning remained draped over the back of her chair. A ceramic mug sitting on a coaster was half-full. The Erin he'd come to love—scratch that, care for—would never have left stale coffee to sit overnight. She was much too fastidious for that. But the deciding factor for him was her promise. No way would she have left with anyone other than him.

  "I want every inch searched." Wade's voice boomed through the empty hall. "Call in more uniforms if you need them. Remind them to treat the school grounds as a crime scene."

  Wade's voice, issuing instructions to his team, did little to ease the panic Rafe fought to keep under control. Nor did telling himself that nothing could be gained by him losing it calm his churning stomach.

  Rafe introduced Wade to Principal Mueller.

  "Norman. Please call me Norman," the principal said as the two men shook hands. "You, too," he said to Rafe.

  Wade handed Norman a business card. "Norman, we're going to need you to stick around. There may be areas of the school we'll need you to unlock."

  Norman seemed not to have heard. His gaze was on Wade's card. "You're with homicide? You think Erin is dead?"

  "We hope not." Wade gave the principal a humorless smile. A patrol officer approached, and Wade spoke with him, turning back to say, "There's a reporter out front. We're not letting him or anyone else inside. It would be best if you didn't speak with the press."

  Norman shook his head. "I won't."

  "If you'd like to wait in your office until we've completed our investigation, that's fine."

  The principal's lips thinned. "I'll have to notify the president of the school board and district police as to what's going on. They'll expect me to have answers."

  "Of course, you have protocol to follow. Suggest they not speak to the media." Wade nodded his agreement. "The crime scene unit will take over shortly. My men are searching the premises. If we can complete our work before morning, the school can open on time. And you'll be notified when you can access Ms. Brady's office in case there are files you need in there."

  Rafe waited until he and Wade were alone. "Erin didn't willingly walk out of here. We agreed I'd be waiting out front for her. Her blazer is still here, and there is a half-full coffee cup on her desk. Ask one of your men to start opening drawers. I'm betting you'll find her…"

  A uniformed female held up a purse. Rafe's chest constricted even more. He rubbed his chest bone to ease the pressure. "That's Erin's."

  "You look like you're on the edge, clinging by your fingertips. I can't have you around if you're going to fall apart. FBI or not, technically this isn't your case. It's mine."

  "I'm fine," Rafe snapped, tamping down the fire in his belly.

  "You can stay or go, just don't interfere with my people." Wade's radio squawked and a voice said, "Are you expecting the feds?"

  The detective's eyebrows rose in question. "Are you expecting your partner?"

  "Yeah."

  "Send him back," Wade said into
his radio.

  "Will do," came the reply.

  "I'll go escort him back," Rafe said, but he couldn't walk away without speaking his mind. Erin's disappearance might not be his case, but he intended to find her and the bastard responsible. "You're wasting your time here, Wade. Whoever has her was too smart to leave a calling card. Somebody tricked her into leaving or took her by force."

  "We'll see if we can get a timeline on who saw her last. Get an idea of when she left."

  "In the meantime, the men on that list she gave you need to be interviewed."

  Wade stuffed his hands into his pants pockets. Rafe stood his ground, allowing the detective to consider Rafe's opinion. His impatience ate away at him.

  "Okay, I'm issuing the FBI an invitation. I'll clear it on my end. Do you have a copy of the list?"

  "Not with me. I can have it in twenty minutes."

  "No need to go that far. I'll call my office. One will be waiting for you at the front desk. Go do some interviews."

  Rafe released the pressure in his chest with a big breath. "Thanks."

  "And stay in touch," Wade said to the back of Rafe's head.

  ****

  Rafe scanned the list they'd just collected. Glad to have the addresses in hand, he got in Colton's pickup and buckled his seat belt.

  Colton turned the key, and the engine roared to life. "Where to?"

  Rafe read the address out loud. "I want the coach first. Terry Evans is just arrogant enough to think he could get away with kidnapping."

  Colton entered the information into his GPS, slipped the gearshift into reverse, then backed out. "How are you holding up?"

  "I'm fine." The imaginary strap around his chest tightened. "Why wouldn't I be?"

  "Don't bullshit a bullshitter. You finally found a woman who got to you. Your brother and I think it's cool."

  "You met Luke? I forgot to tell him that you were staying at the house."

  "Yes, you did. He was in the kitchen when I unlocked the front door and strolled in."

  "Sorry. I take it you two had a nice visit."

  "We made it just fine. Shared a cup of coffee. Seems like an okay guy."