Erin's Way

by Laura Browning

  Sam had no appetite but knew he had to eat. The sun had shifted toward the mountains to the west. Once they were back in the truck, Jake sipped his coffee and set it back in the drink holder.

  “The next place is only about five miles from where we found Matty. No one could remember any structure on the property, so we might have to look around. There must be something, otherwise why run an ad to rent it?”

  “Hunting rights? Not the right time of year, though.” Sam frowned. Great. This was probably a bust too. Jake turned off the highway to bump down a narrow gravel road that barely had enough room for two cars to pass each other. Trees overhung the road from both sides, casting it into deep shadow.

  “Hell, this is almost as bad as Mistletoe Lane, that goat path where Holly was living when I first met her.”

  “It’s worse. Mistletoe Lane at least makes a pretense at being a road. I’m not sure this even qualifies. Are you sure there’s anything back here?” Sam’s brows drew together. They couldn’t afford to waste time on wild goose chases. He felt time ticking off Erin’s life clock with each beat of his heart.

  “I was about to say cattle, but judging from the gaps in that fence, any self-respecting steer would already be long gone.”

  “Whoa!” As Jake was speaking, Sam had spotted what looked like tire marks angling off to the right.

  “What is it?”

  “There’s an old road bed that heads off here… Mainly grass, but it looks like it’s seen some traffic recently, too much of a coincidence not to check out.”

  Jake braked and backed up until he could make the turn in. They spotted an old shed with part of its roof missing and were about to turn around when Jake abruptly stopped again.

  “Hmm.” His eyes narrowed as he peered out through the windshield.

  “What?” Sam snapped. It had been a long, frustrating day after such a hopeful start.

  “You see anything back there among the kudzu vines?”

  Sam squinted a little bit. At this time of year, the tangle was still dead looking and minus the leaves.

  “Yeah,” Sam acknowledged slowly. “Let’s keep going. Of course how anyone thought someone would want to rent this kind of crap, I don’t know.”

  Jake grunted. “Probably some absentee landowner who hasn’t bothered to check the condition of their property in years, but if someone did rent it, let’s hope it was Delacroix.”

  They pulled into what once might have been a front yard. Now it was littered with creeping vines. The trailer appeared abandoned, but not in total disrepair. Windows and doors seemed to be intact and the roof looked solid.

  “Looks like it’s still habitable,” Sam murmured.

  Jake snorted as he eyed the kudzu. “I hear the owners only moved out last week.”

  Despite the situation, Sam chuckled. The speed at which kudzu grew was a running joke all over the southeast. “That can’t be. I’m sure the kudzu would have been strangling the roof vent by now.”

  Jake shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know, Sam. This looks like a dead end, man.”

  “Let’s check it out anyway. It’s nearly dark, and we won’t get to anything else today.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck, not sure if the feeling creeping over him was legitimate or just wishful thinking because in the back of his mind, he knew Erin was about out of time.

  The slam of their truck doors echoed in the deserted area. Both men snapped on latex gloves, and picked their way to the front steps.

  “You brought the key, didn’t you?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “So try it, Cinderella. Let’s see if it fits.”

  Jake slid the key in the front door. While it slid all the way in, it wouldn’t budge a single tumbler. He pulled it back out and shook his head. Sam leaned to the side of the narrow front porch to peer through one of the front windows. A beat up couch sagged along one living room wall and a cheap table sat forlornly in a kitchen bare of appliances. As he squinted, he saw a glass on the counter and next to it, a hypodermic needle. His heart thudded heavily.

  “Jake, someone’s been here recently. There’s a syringe on the counter. Try the back. You know how some of these places are. Different keys fit different doors, and I can see a door off the kitchen.”

  “Wait here,” Jake suggested. “I’ll try the back door. If it works, I can let you in.”

  Sam watched through the window, saw Jake’s shadow at the back door, then the shaft of afternoon sunlight as it opened. This was it. Now where was she? Everything was so silent. Were they too late? Had Delacroix moved her somewhere else? Fear clawed at him, so when Jake finally opened the door, Sam almost knocked him out of the way to get inside.

  “Erin!”

  “Easy, bud. Check the bedroom on this end. I’ll go the other way.”

  Sam turned to the small bedroom next to the front door. One glance told him there was nothing in there to be concerned about. Jake approached from the other end. He shook his head.

  “Nothing.”

  “The key fits. It’s the only lead we’ve got, Jake. We’ve got to keep looking. Maybe this was a red herring. Maybe he’s stashed a key somewhere to the real place.” Sam glanced back at the hypodermic. It could be just some addict looking for a place to shoot up, but the key had fit, and there was just something that bothered him about the whole deal. He shifted his eyes back to Jake. “What was it Melodie said?”

  Jake frowned. “Look under everything.”

  They returned to the bedrooms and the bathroom, checking in closets and inside cabinets, calling Erin’s name as they searched. Nothing. They rifled through the drawers, searched cabinets with their fingers, feeling for keys. Sam stood in the middle of the kitchen, still reluctant to leave even though the light was fading. He glanced back over to the cabinets under the sink. Jake had left them open, and he could see the pipes leading from the sink through the bottom of the cabinet…to the crawl space under the trailer. He looked up slowly and found Jake’s eyes following the same path his had.

  “Under the house.”

  They both said it at the same time. Jake with an air of anticipation, and Sam with cold dread. If she was under the house and alive, she should have made some noise or responded when they called her name. They clambered down the back steps, Jake much faster than Sam, but Sam wasn’t far behind.

  Like many rural trailers, this one had only cheap aluminum skirting to hide its underpinnings. An area just to the right of the back stairs looked like the metal had been recently moved, the ground around it disturbed by both footprints and signs of something being dragged or scraped. Sam reached it first, snatching it back, and once again feeling a jangle along his right arm. Both men bent low to peer into the dimness, but they neither heard anything nor saw anything other than disturbed dirt.

  “Fuck!” Nausea rolled through Sam. He straightened and leaned against the house, closing his eyes in sudden pain. God in heaven. Had Delacroix killed her and buried her here? Sam started to shake.

  Chapter 13

  “Hold it together, Sam. No matter what we find, you gotta keep it together, man.” Sam heard Jake’s attempt to bolster him, but there was no comfort.

  “You got a flashlight?” Sam snarled.

  “Yeah.” Jake pulled it off his duty belt and flipped the switch before pointing it into the dimness. “Looks like just some trash, the water heater, and some wadded up insulation.”

  Sam bent over, braced on his cane. “Shine it up along the bottom of the trailer.”

  As soon as Jake raised the beam, they both saw the glint of metal and a limp hand protruding from the insulation.

  “Erin!” Sam cried, then roared right on the heels of that, “Bastard!”

  “Jesus!” Jake exclaimed at the same time.

  As Sam started to dive into the confined space, Jake stopped him. “Get real, Sam. You can’t do this. You’re in no condition to bring her out. I’ve got the handcuff keys. Use your cell. Call
it in and call an ambulance. I’ll get her.”

  Sam’s breathing was as heavy as if he’d just run several miles. Fury nearly clogged his thoughts to the exclusion of all else. Impotent fury because the man who’d done this was already dead. Get a grip. They had to get Erin out of there. Get her out where she could get help because God only knew what kind of shape she was in by now. Tough as she was, no human was meant to go through what she had.

  Jake touched his arm.

  “You hear me, bro? Don’t wig out on me. I’ll bring her out. You’re in no shape for that. You call. Now!”

  Erin needed him. He might not be able to crawl underneath and bring her out himself, but he could make sure that this time she had the help she needed. He wouldn’t fail her again. Sam pulled his cell phone out, relieved to see he had a signal, and tapped 911, all the while keeping his eyes trained on Jake as the big man crawled through the dirt toward Erin. Sam would have recognized her hand anywhere.

  “This is Sheriff Sam Barnes, I need an ambulance and detectives sent to thirty-one, six-twenty Branch Road, a mile off the Shady Valley Church Road.”

  In the background, he heard Jake call over his shoulder, “She’s breathing.”

  Sam had to lean hard on the cane as he swayed with relief. She was alive, and the euphoria flooding his every pore made him lightheaded.

  “We’ve found Erin Richardson. She’s unconscious.” He paused for a moment to regain his composure. “Have someone tell her family.”

  He jammed the phone back into his pocket, watching as Jake carefully unhooked the cuffs holding her wrist. Jake uttered a muffled curse.

  “What is it?”

  “Her wrist is raw, looks like from trying to get loose, but that’s not all. Sam, this sleep isn’t natural.”

  She could simply be exhausted, but if that were the case, surely releasing her wrist would have roused her.

  “Can you wake her?”

  From beneath the trailer, he heard Jake’s urgent voice. “Erin! Erin, can you hear me, honey? It’s Jake Allred. Sam’s with me…no, nothing. She is breathing though.”

  Sam forced himself to breathe evenly, to think as he’d been trained to so he could get past the emotion. “Is there anything lying nearby? If she’s ingested something toxic, we’ll need to be able to give them an idea of what.” Frustration made him clench and unclench his fingers. He should be in there, not looking on while Jake pulled her out.

  “Just a canteen. Appears to still have something in it.”

  “Bring it.” Hurry, he wanted to yell. His whole body shook with the need to see her, to put his hands on her, and reassure himself that she really was alive.

  “Okay. I’m putting her on my back so I can crawl out. She appears to have some contusions to her face along with the injuries to her wrist.”

  All Sam could see at this point was the flashlight bobbing as Jake crawled back to the opening with Erin on his back. When he reached the gap in the aluminum, Jake held the canteen and the flashlight out for Sam, who took them even while his eyes devoured Erin. She was filthy. Her wrist was raw and bruised. Through the dirt and tear tracks on her face, he spotted a fading bruise along her cheekbone, a cut near her hairline, and a scabbed-over split lip.

  Anger, like acid, rose in him until he thought it would eat away his insides. If Andre Delacroix hadn’t already been dead, Sam would have killed him for the tear tracks alone because he knew just how much it took to make Erin cry.

  “I’ll carry her out to the truck,” Jake murmured gently.

  Sam wanted to hold her, wanted to be the one to carry her out of this hell hole, but he pushed his pride aside. It was all he could do to walk on his healing leg, and there would be no way at all he could support even a portion of her weight with his right arm. One thing he could do, though. He could stay with her. Sam was not going to leave her now that they’d found her. Not ever again.

  Jake laid her on the back seat. “Go around to the other side, get in there. Talk to her. Maybe you’ll have better luck getting a response from her.”

  Sam’s leg throbbed. He hoisted himself into the back and leaned over her recumbent form, stroking her dusty hair. She’d told him she loved him. Maybe that would give his words and his voice more weight. He cleared his throat before he spoke, but his voice still sounded choked to his own ears.

  “Come on, Erin baby, wake up for me. You’re safe now. No one will hurt you, baby, not again, not ever again.”

  He continued to talk to her, croon to her. They were nonsense words, but he just wanted her to hear his voice in the hope it would give her something to reach out and hold on to. He brushed his fingers along the edge of her hair, along her cheek, and down her neck. His hand trembled. Weakness or relief, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was being able to touch her again. She felt thinner, but then he knew she had eaten nothing at all for two days and wasn’t sure about the days preceding. For all he knew, her last meal might have been dinner the night before he was shot.

  In the distance, he heard the wail of the ambulance. Thank God. “Help’s almost here, baby.”

  Jake stuck his head in the window. “I’m going to walk out to the end of the farm road and flag them down to guide them in.”

  Sam looked her over. “You have a blanket in here? She’s got to be suffering exposure at the very least.”

  Jake reached behind the seat and handed him one. “Here, put this over her. I’ve jacked the heater up, but she probably needs even more warmth.”

  Sam took the blanket and spread it over her before touching her hair. It ate at him. He curled himself around her as best he could. With his arm and his leg screaming in pain, Sam still needed to touch her and reassure himself she was there. She was breathing.

  “Please wake up, Erin.” Sam’s voice broke. Jake was right. This sleep wasn’t natural. Delacroix had to have done something to her. Sam thought back over everything Erin had told him about the scumbag. If Delacroix and his family had been heavily into transporting drugs, there was no telling what type of concoction he might have forced on her.

  Sam picked up the canteen, unscrewed the lid, and sniffed. There was no obvious smell that would indicate anything in the water. He tilted it to his lips and put a little of it on his tongue. Bitter but not metallic. Even the nastiest well water around here didn’t have an aftertaste like that. The most logical conclusion was that Delacroix had somehow spiked the water. God only knew for what reason. It seemed unlikely it would be enough to kill her, but maybe enough to keep her docile…or passed out. Sam screwed the lid back on, set the canteen within easy reach, and once again stroked her cheek.

  “Erin, baby,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Come back to me. I swear to God I’ll do a better job of looking out for you this time. Just come back to me.”

  She shifted her head slightly against his hand, her neck arching backward, but still seemed totally unaware. Behind her lids, her eyes shifted rapidly from side to side. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, they opened, but the beautiful blue-gray depths seemed empty, as if he were looking into a void. It was Erin’s shell, but the girl, teenager, woman he had loved for so many years wasn’t there.

  Fear gripped him. If she had gotten so thirsty she drank a large amount of the water at one time, it was possible she might have overdosed on whatever was in the water. Based on what they’d found in Delacroix’s car, he had to think it was ketamine, but it could be almost anything.

  The distinctive rumble of a diesel engine grew louder. The ambulance. He heard it easing its way down the road. Flashes of red light bounced around the interior of the truck and off the dead, brown kudzu vines surrounding them.

  “Help’s here, baby,” he crooned. “Hang on for me. I won’t let you go. I’ll stay right with you.”

  Jake opened the door.

  “They’ll be here with the stretcher in just a minute. I had the patrol cars and Jim’s SUV pull past the entrance so we could get her
out of here first. Then they’ll come in to rope off the scene and do what evidence gathering they can right now. Any movement from her?”

  Sam sighed. “Movement, no awareness. I tasted the water. It’s got a bitter flavor like it might be spiked with something.”

  “Hmm. Take that with you so they can analyze it. And remind them about the vial of ketamine.” Jake looked over his shoulder. “Here they are.”

  Sam looked into the eyes of Castle County’s senior EMT. Over the years, they had worked a lot of incidents together, but nothing as important as this. “Be careful with her, Tony. I’ll get out so you can move her.”

  Tony grasped Sam’s hand for an instant longer than necessary. “Don’t worry, Sheriff. We’ll take care of her.”

  Sam nodded.

  “Can I ride with you?” He’d beg if he must, fight if he had to, but no way was he leaving her side.

  Tony’s gaze filled with understanding. “Of course, sir.”

  Sam climbed awkwardly from the truck, grabbed his cane and the canteen, and limped to the ambulance. If this was all the time Erin had left, then at least he could spend it at her side. Even thinking it made his throat close right up.

  Tony and his crew wasted no time getting Erin onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. One of the younger guys helped Sam inside. Sam sat to one side near her feet, staying out of the way as they worked on her. An oxygen cannula was hooked onto her, and a saline drip started. The EMTs were careful of her left hand, using her right arm to hook up their drip before gently attaching a blood pressure and pulse monitor to her finger. Heated blankets were tucked around her, dirt and all. Sam had seen how filthy and scraped her feet were before they tucked the blankets around those too.

  Erin would hate being helpless like this. He swallowed as he looked again at the tear tracks on her cheeks. He had made her shed a tear—once—but not weep as those stains indicated. What had happened to her?

  They bounced along the farm road. The ride didn’t smooth out until they hit the black top. Sam’s eyes never left hers, so he was the first to notice that the rapid movements of her eyes beneath her lids had speeded up. Twitching began in her feet and hands.