"Thanks." Rafe took a bite without noticing the taste. "It's late. What are you doing up?"
"I feel odd. Being home, not having a purpose, all this luxury, it makes me edgy."
"You'll adjust. Give yourself some time to get used to civilian life. You've been through some rough shit."
"You ever have nightmares?"
"Not anymore. But you were in deeper than I was, and longer, too. If you need to talk, I'm here." Rafe's time in the military as a sniper hadn't been a picnic, but he knew that the Rangers were called on for some of the toughest assignments ever.
Luke reached over and picked up Erin's list. He studied the pages. "The check marks mean you talked to them?"
Rafe nodded, understanding the change of subject. Luke would open up about his experience overseas at his own pace.
"Nobody stood out?"
"Everybody has their skeletons. My money says the coach either physically or mentally abuses his wife. The history teacher is clean. Nice guy and very gay. I promised to keep that confidential. Erin worked closely with the head of the special-ed department. His wife and two kids met us at the door. Another nice guy. The principal is single. We stopped back by the school and questioned him."
"What did you think about him?"
"He was more worried about the board and whether or not the students would be allowed in the classrooms tomorrow than what had happened to Erin."
"What now?"
"Tomorrow we work the list. We're digging into info about everybody's property. She could be anywhere."
"I'm available for grunt work. Use me. I can take care of myself."
"I'll bet." Rafe studied his brother. Aside from his formidable physical appearance, Luke had plenty of hard-core military training to back up his claim. Luke had always been intelligent as hell.
Their mother would have been proud of her baby boy. Luke probably didn't remember much about her. Being four years younger than Rafe and Nick, his memories of her might have faded. After the first few years of her suicide, he'd stopped talking about her altogether. But so had the rest of the family.
"Colton said the local police made a couple of arrests on the drug case."
"So I heard. Our original hunch on Grace and her brother paid off. He hadn't been at college this year. Too busy running the drugs to Westbrook Hills from Laredo."
"What about the girl?" Luke asked.
"Don't know. She's old enough to try as an adult. She'd been covering for him since he started pushing that poison." Rafe looked down and surprised himself. He'd not only polished off the sandwich, he'd eaten every chip on his plate.
Luke returned the list and picked up the empty plate. "I don't suppose you could be convinced to get some rest."
"I'll sleep after I find Erin and kill…" Rafe bit off his sentence.
"Don't do anything to end your career." Luke carried Rafe's trash to the kitchen.
Water running, followed by the scent of coffee being scooped into the pot, indicated Luke planned to stay up. No way was Rafe turning down the offer to help. Somebody took Erin out of the school, and Luke could use his expertise to locate the most logical point of entrance and exit. Maybe the cops missed something.
"Can't a guy get some rest around here?" Colton stood at the end of the hall, fully dressed and wide awake. "Do I smell coffee brewing?" Without waiting for an answer, he walked through the dining room into the kitchen, where a muffled conversation started.
Colton's claim that he couldn't get any sleep was a load of crap. His partner had disappeared long enough to grab a shower and change clothes. Rafe couldn't continue sitting around doing nothing. He called Beckett who agreed to squeeze out a workspace for him and Colton at the precinct.
"Colton," he called out. "Beckett's getting a dedicated space for us. We'll have access to their systems and ours."
"I'm in." Luke set a travel mug full of coffee on the table. "I want to help."
CHAPTER 23
The waiting was making Erin crazy. The principal had left to get her something to eat, but he hadn't returned. What if he never returned? Had a heart attack and died? No one would know she was down here.
She'd sat cross-legged on the floor and tried to meditate. Failing that project miserably, she'd stretched out on the cot and tried to envision green fields of corn, children playing, but again, she'd failed. She'd slept in fits. Battled her panic and lost. She'd succumbed to bouts of depression and tears of despair, followed by fits of anger, where she screamed and cursed the principal.
How long had it been since she'd had water? The one essential thing for life, and she couldn't remember her last sip.
The door opened, and Erin sprang to her feet. Blood rushed from her head, and the world turned blurry for a second.
The principal carried a plastic bag over his arm as he descended. "I'm sorry you had to wait." He removed a bottle of water and handed it to her.
She opened it and took a long drink. Nothing had ever tasted so good. The cool liquid slid down her throat. "Thank you."
Mueller's appearance had changed. No suit and tie now. He wore jeans, boots, and a pullover shirt. On his belt, he wore a scabbard holding a big hunting knife. "I had to get some rest. This morning the school board met, and I had to bring them up-to-date."
He paused. His eyebrows pulled together. Should she have said something? All she could concentrate on was the aroma coming from the sack he held.
"What?" she asked
"You have no sympathy for my problems, do you?"
"I'm sorry. It's just that I'm very hungry."
"I figured." He removed a small box from a local fried chicken restaurant and handed it to her. "I picked up a couple of packages at the post office today. Would you like to come upstairs and see them?"
Erin savored her first bite of chicken for a second before answering. "Yes, please."
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"I won't try to get away. I'd really like to have a shower."
Principal Mueller studied her face. Erin smiled and continued eating.
"Finish your meal. I'll be right back."
Panic closed her throat, and she coughed. "You won't forget?"
"Never." He left, but closed the door behind him.
Erin cleaned up every bite of the food he'd brought, polished off the water and was wiping her fingers with the single napkin when the door reopened.
A coiled nylon cord landed hard on the floor. He followed. "Give me your foot."
"What are you going to do?"
"Do you want a shower?" He stood in front of her, holding a white plastic tie.
"Yes." She had no intentions of refusing him, but she didn't want to make him suspicious by sounding too eager. "But how will I take off my clothes to shower with a rope around my ankle?"
He didn't respond as he wrapped the plastic tie around her ankle then slid one end through the loop. He made sure the tether was tight enough so she couldn't slip her foot out. "Stay put," he commanded. He held the other end of the cord in his hand and tossed the wedding dress over his shoulder. Once he'd climbed the ladder, he called to her. "Come up here."
Erin didn't have to be told twice. Careful not to get her feet tangled, she climbed to the top. Her heart dropped. He was securing the other end of the cord to his wrist. He'd tethered her to him. She quickly scanned her surroundings, looking for an escape route.
"When I remodeled the house, I had extra insulation installed. We have neighbors, but no one will hear us if we argue." His gaze raked over her and a smirk lifted his lips. "If you're one of those women who are vocal during sex, no worries."
Her mouth went bone dry. There would be no sex between them. He'd have to force her, and the fight preceding the rape would be epic. He was a couple of inches taller than she was and had a good forty pounds on her, but that wouldn't stop her from fighting.
He laughed a low, throaty sound. "You're blushing. I like that." He rolled the excess cord around his arm until he stood by her side. "Sho
wer is this way."
Erin walked in front of him down the hall. How did he expect her to undress? Could she convince him that if he left her alone long enough to shower, she wouldn't try to escape? It was a bluff she'd have to try.
His hand on her shoulder stopped her. He opened a door and stepped back, waving her to go in first. "I hope you like it."
Erin's knees buckled, forcing her to grab the doorjamb for support. The room was white. Sterile. Cold. Not just the walls. Everything in the room was white. The headboard on the king-size bed, the dresser, and the matching end tables were all a light-colored wood. The lamps, drapes, and the large throw rug? All white. The only relief in the room was a floral arrangement of red roses on the nightstand. "My God," she muttered.
"It's beautiful, isn't it? Helps me sleep."
"It does?" She worked at keeping her tone calm.
"White reminds me of you. Pure, whole, and angelic. The red makes me think of the passion we'll share. Each night I crawl between the sheets and pretend you are in bed with me." His free hand slid around her waist. "I can't wait to see your naked body lying in our tangled sheets."
Erin's skin turned clammy and cold, yet sweat beaded her forehead.
"Tonight"—his lips were next to her ear, almost touching—"there will be nothing to stop us from demonstrating our love. We don't have to hide our desire anymore."
Her flesh recoiled at the idea of him touching her intimately. He was so deluded that he expected her to sleep with him. No, not deluded. Insane.
He turned her to face him. His fingers dug into her flesh.
"I'm insane?"
She'd said that out loud? If she denied it, he'd see right through her. "You kidnapped me."
"I saved you!" His grip tightened painfully. "Here I'd hoped your alone time had helped you get your priorities straight."
"My priorities?"
"Oh, I accept some of the blame. You made your affection for me known, but I waited too long to let you know that I felt the same way. My mistake was allowing you to hang out with those FBI men. They corrupted your mind." His voice had gotten louder and shriller with each word. "I should've killed them all."
"You bashed in Linc's head, didn't you?" The fried chicken churned in her stomach.
"If your neighbor dies, his death will be on you. He had no business going in and out of your house as if he belonged there. All of them were interfering with us being together. Just like that photographer, who paid for hiding and taking your picture and scaring you.
Erin opened her mouth. She had to force words out. "You killed the guy who hid in my tree?"
"Damn right I did. I'll kill anybody who hurts you or interferes with us being together."
The principal's lips had thinned, and the nerves in his jaw muscles twitched. She had to calm him down. The principal's hold on reality was slipping fast. Escaping had to be soon.
"Is the bath through there?"
"Yes." He released her waist, walked her over, and opened a door.
The one ray of hope vanished. A skylight flooded the room with bright sunshine. But it was the only window in the room. She pulled a smile from somewhere and ran her hand over her blouse. "I can't take this off with the rope on my ankle. I understand that you don't trust me, but there's nowhere for me to go."
His gaze narrowed. Silence hung between them. "Fine." He tightened his grip on her waist. "Don't test my love. Not again. I can and will put you back in the storm shelter."
"I understand."
The hunting knife made quick work of the plastic tie. Erin bent and rubbed her ankle. Her mind raced. So the bathroom wasn't her way out. She'd have to find another way.
"Thank you," she said in the sweetest tone she could muster. She turned her back, reaching to close the door. Please God, she prayed. Don't let him watch me undress.
"I will be right outside. I think you'll find everything you need. This is our bathroom, and I've been slowly stocking it with everything you might need."
The snick the door made when it closed sent relief rushing through Erin. She turned the hot-water faucet to full blast then looked around. Maybe she could find a weapon, something she could hide in the waistband of her slacks. The small storage closet had everything but a sharp object. On the shelves, she found shampoo, conditioner, a hair dryer, and deodorant. Nothing of any value when it came to self-defense.
How much time would he allow? How much restraint was he willing to show? Unwilling to risk it, she quickly stripped and stepped into the steamy shower to adjust the water. Cleaning her body and hair in record speed, she used that time to think, to plan. Her head was tilted back as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair when the door opened then quickly closed.
Naked and wet, she'd never felt so vulnerable. Was he in the room? Planning to join her? She peered through the frosted-glass shower door. Unable to see, she turned off the water and wrapped an oversized white towel around her body. Then she stepped out onto the tile floor.
She was alone, but her clothes were gone. In their place was the wedding dress. The bastard had tricked her, planned this all along.
That monstrosity could hang on the door until the end of time. No way was she putting it on. She tightened the towel, located the dryer, and went to work on her hair. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he'd taken her things to launder them for her.
Behind her, from almost every position she stood in, the snowy white wedding dress taunted her in the mirror. Her clothes weren't going to be returned. This was his way of forcing her into the dress. She had the overwhelming urge to turn the dryer on the lace and see how he liked a melted sham of a dress.
The rubber band broke when she tried to anchor her hair off her face. She rummaged through the drawers, finding nothing to use as a replacement tie. The bastard had thought of everything, including a brush, comb, and even a toothbrush, but there were no clips or rubber bands.
Now was the time she needed Rafe to burst through the front door and rescue her. She shook her head to stop that kind of thinking. She'd spent many years learning to depend on no one but herself. She paid her own bills and made her own decisions. But looking in the mirror at the frightened woman staring back at her, she admitted she'd welcome a hero rushing in to stop the bad guy.
A knock startled her. Damn Casanova, or whatever the hell he called himself. She wanted to throw open the door and rush him, but she remembered his knife. A weapon like that belonged with a hunter, not the timid principal of a school. A conversation with Rafe flashed through her memory. Something about stabbing a person in the diaphragm.
The knock came again. "Come out here. I want to see you in the dress."
His demanding tone sent her blood boiling. Putting on that wedding dress meant surrender. She clutched the towel tightly and opened the door.
"I have no underwear. Do you expect me to walk around in that dress with no bra and panties? What would your mother say about that kind of perversion?"
The back of his hand landed squarely on her cheekbone. Erin fell backward, landing hard on her tailbone. The tile floor sent rockets of pain up her spine. The towel fell off, exposing her body to his eyes.
Time seemed to stop as his gaze raked across her skin. She felt as if she needed a scalding-hot shower. She quickly covered herself with the damp terry cloth, ignoring the pain in her cheek.
"My mother tried using that tone of voice on my father. She learned quickly he wouldn't tolerate her disrespect. What would she think? Who knows? Dad dumped her out at the bus station many years ago. Told the whore to never come back."
He grabbed Erin's ankle and affixed a new plastic tie on her along with the rope. She held the towel tighter as he pulled her to her feet.
"Put on the dress or go downstairs. Your choice."
Tears rushed to the surface. Erin blinked repeatedly, trying to stem the flow. As if recognizing the sheer hopelessness of her situation and against her will, tears marched down her face in steady streams.
She bent over, picked up the cord
, and then handed him the slack. Shoulders back and head high, she walked into the hall and to the door to the shelter. Without another word, she descended the ladder.
"Have it your way." His end of the nylon cord landed at her feet. Moments later, the wedding dress fluttered to the floor. Then the door slammed shut.
Erin screamed. Grabbed the dress and ripped at the lacy overskirt. Her tears came from rage and frustration, and this time she allowed them to flow freely. Not since her stepfather had she wanted to physically hurt another human being. But given the chance, the principal would know her anger.
Eventually, her fit of temper subsided. And once again, she was alone in the silence. Chills raced up and down her body. Wrapped in a bath towel and with no way out, she'd allowed her defiance to seal her fate. Had she made the right choice? How long would he wait before returning?
Escape from this hellhole was impossible. But could she do whatever was necessary to stay above ground? To live, to survive, she had to come to terms with her situation.
CHAPTER 24
Rafe drained the cup of coffee, tossed the paper cup into the trash, and refocused on the surveillance video from the school. Wade had set up the conference room so Rafe could watch and study all the different angles from the different cameras. Damn that he'd found nothing suspicious. Caffeine, anger, and frustration were keeping him going.
Erin knew he cared for her, right? How big a deal would it have been to confess she'd always hold a special place in his heart? Someday, she would've understood that his lifestyle had put them on different paths.
He'd tell her face-to-face when he found her. And he would find her.
She was the focus of a massive manhunt. The patrol units were on alert to Erin's disappearance. The television station had already run a story on their hourly newsbreak. A few crank calls had come in, but for the most part concerned citizens had reached out and offered their services. Erin had a lot of people in her corner.
Rafe had spent hours going over backgrounds and real estate information. With no clues to work with, finding Erin was as likely as catching a handful of smoke. Still, somewhere there was a hint, something that would grow into a clue.
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