"He is. I'm glad he's home. Keeps me from having to guess what to do with Dad's belongings. Besides, now that he's out of the military, I don't have to worry about him."
"Have you asked him what he wants to do?"
"No. I figure he'll find something he likes. Why?"
"He's looking at the Texas Rangers or US Marshals Service."
"He needs to choose something safer."
"He's been sleeping with danger. It's in his blood." Colton chuckled. "He's not walking away from the military to run a tire shop."
"Fuck you. He could be a landscaper or banker."
"I'll let you tell him that."
The droning voice of the GPS announced their final turn and that their destination was two-tenths of a mile on the right. Colton pulled down the driveway and killed the engine. The coach's home sat back off the street behind large trees and a green lawn. It had pale brick trimmed out in gray and a slate-colored roof. Rafe thought the place looked like a small prison.
"Neighbors are pretty damn close." Colton pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and stared over the top of the frames. "But, then, so were the neighbors where the girl in Ohio was kept for eighteen years."
Rafe checked his watch. Had it been only a few hours since he'd gone inside the school to see what was keeping Erin? The clock was ticking and the pressure was building in his chest.
Before they reached the porch, Coach Evans opened the door. First impressions for Rafe meant a lot, and the coach looked surprised and curious.
"Coach, this is my partner, Colton Weir. We'd like to speak with you for a minute. May we come in?"
He shook Colton's hand and stepped back, waving them inside. Neither Rafe nor Colton sat, but the coach plopped down in a chair and propped his feet up.
"What's this about?"
Rafe went straight to the point. "Erin Brady is missing. We believe she's been kidnapped by someone she knows."
"Terry?" An attractive woman walked into the living room, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. "Hello. I thought I heard voices."
"My wife, Lauren." The coach made introductions. "The counselor at school is missing."
"Gentlemen, please sit down." Mrs. Evans waved toward the couch. "How can we help?"
"We're speaking with all Erin's coworkers." Rafe turned his attention to the coach. "Did you see her today?"
"Yeah. I stuck my head in her office to welcome her back."
"Did she have anybody with her?"
The coach's wife sat on the edge of her husband's footstool.
"Don't burn my supper," Evans snapped.
Pink rushed up her cheeks, but she stood. "You're right, of course. I'd better check on it."
Colton, who'd remained standing, cleared his throat. "Mrs. Evans, may I trouble you for a glass of water?"
"Bring the man a fresh bottle out of the fridge," the coach commanded.
Evans might be smart, but Rafe knew Colton wanted to speak with Mrs. Evans alone. "No, thanks. I prefer tap." He fell in step behind Mrs. Evans. "You hand me a glass, and I'll do the rest."
It was up to Rafe to keep Evans busy for a few minutes. If Colton could get Mrs. Evans to open up, they might actually learn something useful.
"He'll keep her busy with small talk, give us some privacy." Rafe leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "You were telling me about how you stopped by to welcome Ms. Brady back to work."
"Right. Nobody was in her office. I have a couple of players who are damn close to becoming ineligible. I wanted her to speak with them about their grades." Evans glanced toward the kitchen.
"You have a nice place. Mind if I take a look around?"
The coach dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I don't have time to waste. Either you have something to hide or you don't. With your reputation as a bully, guess who I thought of first? We can end this one of two ways. Colton can keep your wife busy while I look around, or I'll get a warrant and tear this place apart in front of her."
"You don't have grounds for a warrant," the coach fired back.
"Try me." Rafe glanced at his watch. It seemed to mock him, reminding him that time wasn't on his side.
"Fine." The coach propped his feet back on the stool. "Look all you want."
Colton joined Rafe after he'd thoroughly searched the house. A shed out in the backyard certainly looked like a good hiding place.
"You'll need this to get inside." Colton passed Rafe a key.
"You get this from the wife?"
"Yeah. Nice lady."
"You learn anything from her?"
"Nothing of value. She made small talk, but she kept looking over her shoulder as if she feared the coach would burst through the door any second." Colton glanced back toward the house. "I kind of wish he had."
Rafe swung the shed's double doors wide. A riding lawn mower took up half of the space. Yard tools hung in perfect order on a wall rack. The workbench had been laid out the same way. Every tool was straight and easy to find. "Too tidy," Rafe said.
Colton removed a garden spade and walked around, stabbing the sharp point into the dirt floor. Rafe shifted items and sorted through a bag of rags, looking for anything that might belong to a woman. "If this bastard has Erin, he's stashed her someplace else."
"We should see if Evans or his wife owns additional property." Colton hung up the spade.
"Good idea. Let me return the key." Rafe walked to the back door and knocked.
"I'll do it."
Rafe stepped back a few feet and let his partner take over. Seconds later, Mrs. Evans opened the door.
"He really doesn't like to be disturbed while he's having his evening meal."
"Did your husband kidnap Ms. Brady?"
Her head moved left then right slightly.
Colton took out his card and handed it to her. "Call me if you need help."
She stuffed the card in her pocket and stepped closer. "Thank you."
"There are places you can go for help. Places where you'll be safe."
She nodded and closed the door.
"She won't call," Colton said, shaking his head.
They walked away in silence. Both were worried about the coach's wife and what went on behind closed doors. Rafe joined Colton in his truck and read over the names on the list
"Who's next?" Colton asked.
"We wasted a lot of time on Coach Evans. I'd have put money on him." Rafe's nerves were stretched thin. His shoulders ached, and his fear for Erin worsened with each passing minute. "Charles Parker is the history teacher. The list says he's single. I'll call Beckett and ask for real estate information on the coach."
The GPS voice irritated the shit out of Rafe. Odd, the flat monotone had never bothered him before. It wasn't like Erin's upbeat and confident voice.
Was she hurting? Cold? Hungry? He refused to believe her life was in jeopardy. If the stalker believed himself to be in love with Erin, he'd keep her alive. But Erin would never give in. The more she protested and argued, the more dangerous her stalker would become.
"Stay with me." Colton's slow drawl interrupted the fear building in Rafe's mind.
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine." He held up one finger. "But that's okay. Just don't go bat-shit crazy on me. I fucking don't need to fight you and this bastard who has your woman."
"She was my responsibility. Mine."
"We'll find her."
"And the son of a bitch who took her." Rafe ground out the words. "I've never wanted to kill another human being, but this guy..." He clamped his teeth together for a second. "If he's hurt her in any way, you'll think bat-shit crazy."
"We'll find her. And justice will take its course."
"I'm not looking for the court's justice. I'll exact my own justice."
"You know I've got your back. Just hold it together."
Rafe leaned back in the seat. The Glock pressed against his kidney, reminding him of its pre
sence. They headed for the history teacher's house. Rafe silently begged the fates to protect Erin. Colton, no doubt, was measuring Rafe's sanity, which was a good idea, because he was doing the same.
CHAPTER 22
Erin woke with a start. How could she have fallen asleep in this hellhole? The initial burst of adrenaline had worn off, and the resulting crash had left her weak and exhausted. Still, drifting off had been dangerous. Staying alert and strong were the way out. Out of what? Out of where?
Away from whom?
Her muscles ached as she stood and stretched. Her right hand throbbed. She'd pounded on the hatch door until her hand was bruised and swollen. Her bladder was about to explode, but just the thought of being caught on that toilet ended those basic urges.
How long had she slept? An hour or twelve? It felt as if she'd been down here for days. She had no idea whether it was day or night. A shudder racked her body.
God, she was thirsty. The refrigerator had been empty, but for some stupid reason, she felt compelled to open the door and look. It was still running and still bare.
The wedding dress, which she'd wadded up and thrown aside, seemed to mock her. This whole thing was a little too Phantom of the Opera for her. She'd never listen to that music again. Erin reached to rip the dress to shreds.
The seed of an idea stopped her. Did the crazy bastard expect her to marry him? That would never happen, but to stay alive, she might have to pretend. Could she pull it off? What would she do if he wanted to have sex?
A sound from above sent her heart racing. The door lever moved. Erin grabbed the dress off the floor and spread it across the foot of the cot. Her heart raced, and the sound of rushing blood filled her ears.
Was she being rescued? Or was she about to meet the monster?
She stood, backed as far into the corner as possible, and waited. Faking bravery used to be one of her specialties, but she'd been a kid back then. She'd draw on those skills and maybe brazen her way out of this trap. Could she pull it off?
The hatch opened, and a foot appeared on the top rung. Whose shoe was she looking at?
"You found the light pull." Principal Mueller made his way down the ladder and into the small space. His tone wasn't that of a predator. His face wasn't snarled with evil. He was joyful, which made his words even more chilling. "I'm sorry I didn't leave it on. I'd planned on coming home sooner, but in my position, I had to stay until the police left."
"Why did you do this?" Her anger, coupled with a large dose of terror, threatened to boil over. His behavior was beyond insane.
He tilted his head and smiled. "My silly sweetheart. This was the only way. Now no one will disturb us or interfere with us being together. When we're ready, we'll rejoin society."
"There is no we."
"Of course there is, and I see no reason for you to deny it. Why else would I have killed those people for you? Remodeled my home? Installed this safe room for your use? Only a person in love would do that. I'll never allow anybody to hurt you."
All the blood drained from her head. The extent of his break from reality made Erin lightheaded. How had he kept this side of his personality a secret? At school, he'd displayed such a proper demeanor that she'd never once thought him unstable.
She crept to the edge of the cot, pushed the wedding dress aside, and sat down.
His smile broadened, and he clapped his hands like an excited child. "Don't you love the dress? I hope it fits. I had to guess at the size, but I knew right away that it was perfect for you."
That he'd ordered the dress with her in mind sent her stomach into a downhill slide. She wrapped her arms around her middle. "Principal Mueller." Erin tried to sound calm as she stood. She smoothed the front of her blouse, trying to look calm. She walked the few steps it took to stand in front of him. "I want you to step out of the way, so I can leave."
"Sweetheart, you never have to address me as Principal Mueller again." He lifted his hand and tried to touch her cheek, but she backed away. "In fact, I much prefer you call me Casanova."
"And why would I do that?"
"It's the nickname you gave me. I've grown quite fond of it."
Her hand went to her face where he'd almost touched her. Had she heard him correctly? She'd never referred to him by any nickname. How could he stand there and spew that babble with a straight face?
"You must be mistaken. I haven't called you anything except Principal Mueller."
"Of course you have," he said. "I'm not deaf. I heard you." His tone had shifted to impatient.
An argument formed on the tip of her tongue, but Erin pulled her frustration and anger into check. Determined to keep her voice steady, she concentrated on enunciating her words. "I want to go home. People will be looking for me."
"I was afraid of this." He spoke as if talking to a child. "I had hoped leaving you down here for any length of time wouldn't be necessary. I can see you've denied your feelings for me so long you've lost your way."
He moved toward the ladder. She had to stop him. "Please. Don't do this."
"It's for the best. You need some time to collect your thoughts. I blame all of those outside influences. The men. They've successfully come between us." He shook his head as if disgusted. "Can't you see they don't love you? No one will ever love you like I do." His eyes darkened as he spoke. "And those horrible girls telling lies about you. Everything that's happened over the past few weeks has messed up your thinking. Now that all of the outside influences have been eliminated, you'll realize we're meant to be together. You're safe now. I'll always protect you."
The principal was insane. Completely out of his mind. "Kidnapping me is not protecting me." She lashed the words out at him.
He advanced, closing the distance between them. Flat, emotionless eyes stared down at her. "I killed for you. Sent a message to the world that lying about you wouldn't be tolerated."
"You killed Penny and Sara." The world collapsed from under her with his smile. Tears flooded Erin's eyes.
"Of course I did. Do you think any of those men who've been sniffing around you would kill to protect you? Not likely."
The realization that she might spend the rest of her life in captivity hit her hard. "You need to let me go. Please," she said, softening her tone. "Let me walk out of here."
"No." He whirled and started up the ladder.
Erin grabbed his leg. "Don't lock me in. I hate being down here."
"I'm very disappointed in your lack of gratitude for everything I've done. In fact, I planned to bring you your purse, but that wasn't possible. Some alone time is exactly what you need. Think about writing a letter to the media. You need to explain how you want to be left alone. Later, you can put pen to paper, and then I'll mail it for you."
"I won't do it. Rafe Sirilli will never stop looking for me." She grabbed again for his leg.
"Then he can die, too." The principal's foot lashed out, kicking her in the stomach.
She stumbled backward and landed on the cot. Her shoes slipped off of her feet and fell to the floor, landing with hollow thuds. The skirt of the wedding dress, with its yards and yards of lace, fluttered up around her thighs. Erin shoved the dress away.
"Where am I?"
Mueller stopped at the top of the ladder and turned to look at her. "You're at home. I had the house remodeled, installing this storm shelter. After we're married and life returns to normal, we'll come down here during bad weather."
"This is not my home." Normal? Normal wasn't a word she'd use to describe him.
"You'll come around," he said. "I'll bring you food and water later."
The door slammed shut, the sound echoing like an explosion. What kind of storm shelter had the lock on the outside? To Erin, it felt like he'd closed the lid on her coffin.
She'd handled their first contact poorly. Gaining his confidence should have been her goal, not pissing him off. Instead, she'd reminded him that he was holding her against her will, making him suspicious of her every action. Before he returne
d, she had to gain control of her fears and formulate a plan to escape.
Erin took down her ponytail and dragged her fingers through the knots in her hair. Oddly enough, straightening her clothes and putting her shoes on made her feel more in control.
Time passed slowly. Not knowing how long she'd been down here was maddening. When she felt as if the room was getting smaller, Erin paced the few steps from wall to wall. The waiting was torture. Not to mention that she was growing thirstier with each minute.
Dozens of news stories about women held as sex slaves for years ran through her mind. He seemed to believe that by holding her captive she'd surrender. Could she make him think she'd had a change of heart? Play up to him so he'd believe he'd won her over?
The dress could be the key to her escape. But would it backfire if she wore it too soon?
Erin heard a noise. Was she hearing people talking or was that a TV? She jumped up, rushed up the ladder, and tried to listen. Her imagination was running away with her.
The silence. The hunger. Her thirst. She returned to the cot, hugging her knees to her chest. Nerves frazzled, she dozed off and on. But she refused to turn off the light. That and hope were all she had, and she clung to them both, using them as a lifeline.
Rafe was hunting for her. He'd turn over every rock, unearth every possible clue until he found her.
What if the principal grew tired of her? Realized he couldn't force her to love him? He'd kill her. Waiting for Rafe to save her wasn't an option. She had to do this herself.
****
Rafe ended the call by apologizing again. As expected, Jeff had chewed Rafe a new one for not contacting him and Lotty sooner. He'd put off upsetting the Paulenskis, hoping to have better news.
A hand clamped down on Rafe's shoulder. He grasped the wrist and whirled. "Goddamn it, Luke. I could've hurt you."
"Sorry." His brother pointed to the plate he'd placed on the table. The bologna sandwich and a bottle of water didn't appeal to Rafe. "Eat. Drink."
"I'm not hungry." Rafe studied his brother. Luke's gray eyes seemed darker tonight.
"You know the speech about keeping your strength up better than I do, so suffice to say, eat it or wear it."
Till Justice Is Served Page 19