by J. S. Marlo
Most of them deserved to spend the night sobering up in a cell, but Avery had no interest in babysitting them all night or cleaning up their mess in the morning. He released them on their own recognizance and drove home.
Lights filtered through the covered windows. He slid his key into the keyhole and turned. When his key met no resistance and didn’t generate any click, he tensed. As impetuous as Hannah might be, she wasn’t careless. She wouldn’t have left the door unlocked. Listening for sounds that didn’t belong, Avery entered with caution. He froze at the entrance of the kitchen. The cupboards and drawers were open, their contents tossed on the counter and the floor.
Hannah…Her name on his lips, he drew his gun before moving to the other rooms.
In the living room, a lamp had shattered on the floor and the ash bucket had been pushed in a corner, upside down. The tong, poker, brush, shovel, and tool stand were basked in a pool of ashes, along with one of Greta’s knives and a scrunched up ball of paper. He picked up the latter and unfolded it.
Bloody hell. The information Reed had gleaned on Hannah belonged in his desk, not on his floor. How the sheet of paper ended up here didn’t matter. If Hannah read she had a son…
She’ll never forgive me for the omission and she’ll never trust me again. This wasn’t how he’d intended to break the news to her. Regardless of the circumstances surrounding her discovery, he couldn’t imagine her thrashing his home in retaliation. He tore the paper and tossed the pieces into the fireplace. That wasn’t meant for Hannah’s or anyone else’s eyes.
The other two knives he’d taken from Greta’s cave were on the mantle where he’d left them. Whoever ransacked his house hadn’t been looking for the knife. It left only one other document worth breaking in and searching for. The evidence Abbott had taped under the seat of his truck before he died.
Avery had loosened the baseboards in his bedroom closet and stashed the envelope about Noel Foley’s shoplifting arrest under the carpeted floor.
His bedroom was as messy as the other rooms. When he patted the carpet, he felt a slight lump. That piece of evidence was safe, which still didn’t give him any insights into Hannah’s disappearance.
So far, there was no blood anywhere, and aside from the broken lamp by the couch, no sign of an obvious struggle. If Hannah saw the perpetrator come in, she would have hidden.
Strange whimpers reached his ears. He followed it to the bathroom, the only room he hadn’t searched yet. Something was scratching at the door.
“Snowflake? Is that you?” The moaning stopped and was replaced by strong barking. “Hold on, girl.” He holstered his gun before opening the door. As soon as the gap grew wide enough, his little female companion squeezed through and jumped on him. “I’m glad to see you too.”
Squatting in the doorway, he scratched Snowflake behind the ears while scanning the bathroom. The shower curtain was bunched up at one end, and the tub was empty. “Where’s your mistress?”
The perpetrator may have kidnapped her with the intent of using her as a bargaining chip. If he touches a hair on her head, I’ll kill him.
Anger led to mistakes. H, and he couldn’t afford any, not with Hannah’s life on the line. With great effort, Avery reined in his emotions. It was also possible she fled outside. If anything, Hannah was resourceful. He’d learned of her survival skills the painful way.
“You stay here, girl. I need to check for tracks.”
Snowflake zoomed away, barking. Hope that Hannah might have returned surged in Avery’s chest. He rounded the corner of the hallway.
A wild yelp of agony welcomed him in the kitchen.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
A cold, wet cloth wiping her face roused Hannah’s senses. As she regained consciousness, the details of the attack resurfaced.
Her eyes flew open, and she recoiled, only to muffle a scream of agony when a fire ignited inside her hand.
“Your finger is broken. If I were you, I wouldn’t move my hand.”
Cooper’s consideration was overwhelming. “Get away from me.”
He dropped the facecloth on her lap, then leaned against the shower stall. “Do you know where women like you end up?”
No, and she didn’t care. No woman was supposed to be handcuffed to a water pipe under a sink with her back against a toilet bowl. This was disgusting. “Where am I?”
“In a quiet place.” That he seemed calm and comfortable suggested the bathroom was familiar territory. “Stone is going to worry sick about you. By morning, he’ll be ready to trade the paternity test for you. He’s such a pathetic loser.”
The only loser was the one who broke her finger and showed little respect for the law.
“That’s kidnapping and extortion, Cooper.” The constable’s behavior didn’t bode well for her safety. “You won’t get away with this.”
“You’re not too bright, so let me spell it out for you.” A smirk blossomed on his face, irking her more than the insult. “In his official report, Stone declared you and your boy missing. If I tell the sergeant that Stone disguised you and kept you in his home for his personal pleasure, his career is over. He’ll spend the rest of his life behind bars. Stone has no choice. He has to buy my silence.” A predatory glint shone in his eyes. “And so do you.”
Recoiling farther between the toilet and the sink, she pulled on the handcuff and shrieked in pain. To her dismay, her injured finger couldn’t bear the slightest effort. “Touch me, and I’ll kill you.”
“Don’t worry, Parker. I never forced myself on a woman, and I’m not about to start with you. If you care for Stone, you’ll come to me willing.”
“Over my dead body.”
“Hookers like you turn up dead in dumpsters every day. You—” A frown creased his forehead quickly replaced by a smile as he looked at his cell phone.
Cooper turned his back to her to answer, but to her surprise, he didn’t leave the room. He doesn’t care if I listen. His careless attitude was another bad sign for her. She caught his reflection in the mirror. Words flew from his mouth. To her amazement, she understood.
“You’re still awake—Of course I want to see you.” His chest expanded and an air of satisfaction enveloped him. “Give me ten minutes. Bye.”
Blood raced through Hannah’s body, and the tip of her good fingers pulsed in anticipation of his departure.
Presenting her with his arrogant face once more, he crouched by her side. “I have a date, but I’ll be back. You’re lucky the neighbors are gone, or I’d gag you. Feel free to scream.”
Defiance contracted her muscles. She kicked him in the shin with her boot. “Go to hell.”
He drew back, glaring. “I will tame you, Parker. One way or another.”
The threat resonated in her head long after he slammed the door.
It could have been worse. He could have turned the lights off. In the dark, she would have struggled removing the elbow drainpipe. Anyone with basic plumbing knowledge would never hook up a prisoner under a sink.
Lucky for me, Cooper, you’re not a handyman. The plastic pipes, made of ABS, were covered with a thin layer of dust. She clasped the slip nut with her free hand which thankfully wasn’t the one with a broken digit. Clenching her teeth, she twisted it. Come on. Using her body as leverage, she toiled to loosen the nut.
Sweat pooled between her shoulder blades and heat flushed her face. Cooper had dressed her with one of Avery’s coats and her boots, but before incarcerating her, he hadn’t bothered removing them, a mistake his leg probably regretted. While she relished the bruise she’d inflicted with her boot, she wished for one less layer on her back.
Twist. Come on. The nut shifted by a few degrees, and the small gain energized her endeavor. We’re getting there. Under the pressure, the nut suddenly gave way. As Hannah hassled to unscrew it, brownish, slimy liquid dripped from the pipe.
The disgusting goo that coated her fingers morphed her animosity toward the sleazy constable into full-blown hatred.
&n
bsp; ***
Avery stopped dead on the linoleum floor.
The man whose picture had popped onto his computer screen earlier in the evening had a rifle pointing at Avery’s chest and a boot crushing Snowflake’s paw.
“Reach for your gun, and you’re dead.” The deep baritone threat was accompanied by another agonizing screech.
“Let the dog go, Victor. That’s cruelty.”
When the disfigured man showed no emotion, Avery feared he might not harbor any.
“If you insist.” Young lifted his boot and kicked Snowflake across the kitchen floor, substantiating Avery’s theory he was dealing with a psychopath.
“Pointing a gun at a RCMP officer is a crime, Victor.” Reminding Young of what he undoubtedly knew bought Avery precious seconds to think up a plan. “Put the rifle down, then you can tell me what you want.”
“You have something that belongs to me.”
From the corner of his eye, Avery caught movement on his left. He instinctively raised his arm. The blow hit his chest, knocking the wind out of him.
***
The wind slapped Hannah’s face and the snow stuck to her hair. While she’d freed herself from captivity, a storm had arisen.
She raised the collar of her coat to cover her ears before carefully digging her bare hands into her pockets. The cold may be good for the swelling, but a pair of gloves and a hat would have been nicer. Afraid Cooper might return, she hadn’t taken the time to search the closets for suitable winter accessories. She now silently cursed her speedy exit.
Except for some porch lights and a few lampposts, the neighborhood was quiet and dark which facilitated her escape. A map of the area formed in her mind. Though she couldn’t name the streets, she knew exactly where she headed. Around the next intersection was her brother’s clinic.
A green Hummer parked near the side door of the clinic beckoned her to enter and go down a flight of stairs. Halfway down, a crack appeared on the wall. It ran up, reaching the light fixture at the junction of the ceiling. I’ve been here. Often.
Motivated by the unequivocal recollection and the warm feeling associated with it, she followed the dim hallway to a large room where a man with a bouncing ponytail sterilized medical instruments.
She had no clue what Fred looked like, and staring at the man didn’t fire up any memories. When Avery told her about her life, she should have asked for a description of her brother. “Fred?”
His dark gaze grazed over her. “It’s the middle of the night, lady. What can I do for—” The muscles of his face seized up. He dropped a long metallic probe into the sink, splashing water on his blue shirt. “Hannah? Is that you?”
The speed with which he closed the gap between them, and the huge hug he gave her, confirmed his identity—and trapped her injured hand between their bodies. “Easy. I think I broke a finger.”
“Let me see.” He forced her to sit and pulled her sleeve up, exposing the red marks marring her skin, courtesy of the handcuff still rubbing her wrist.
“This isn’t what you think.”
“It’s not?” With his stare, he pinned her to her stool. “An explosion obliterated your cabin. You and Rory disappeared. Officer Stone has been looking for you day and night. I don’t think he slept. I sure didn’t. I was beside myself, Hannah. I feared the worst. Now you’re in my morgue at three in the morning with handcuffs dangling from your arm looking like a stranger. What’s going on? Where’s Rory?”
To learn Avery had relentlessly searched for her was a balm to her injuries, though she was still angry with him for not telling her about her son. “Avery is keeping Rory safe.”
“Stone knows you’re alive?” A weight seemed to lift from his shoulders. “Is he the one who cuffed you?”
The thought brought a weary smile to her face. With her propensity to disappear, Avery might soon consider tying her up.
“No, it’s…it’s complicated.” She didn’t want to implicate Cooper until she talked to Avery. “Avery thinks Gramp’s murder and Abbott’s death are related, that I can identify the murderers. That’s why they blew up the cabin. They’re trying to kill me, but I don’t know who they are.”
With the horror of it all reflected in his eyes, Freddy manipulated her hand. “Shouldn’t Stone be protecting you? You should be in protective custody, not wandering alone at this ungodly time.”
And you should be in bed with Justine, not working. The name had popped in Hannah’s mind, uncensored. She sighed. Of all the details trapped in her mind, her memory had chosen to release the identity of Freddy’s vain girlfriend. That’s pathetic.
“I’m hiding at Avery’s—”A painful jolt traveled from her fingernail to her elbow when Freddy bent her finger. “That hurts.”
“Sure it does. It’s broken.” An apologetic smile wrinkled the corner of her brother’s eyes. “It feels like a simple fracture, but I need an x-ray to confirm.”
“I don’t have time for x-rays, Freddy.” She had to get back to Avery before Cooper messed things up. “Can you fix my finger and give me a ride to Avery’s house?”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Hannah recognized the blue house with the double garage. From there, it was a five-minute walk to Avery’s house.
Without Freddy’s help, she wouldn’t have found her way home.
“Stop here.” For everyone’s safety, he couldn’t be seen dropping her off near the detachment. “I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
He parked alongside the double garage and turned toward her. In the dark, she couldn’t read his lips. She took comfort in his touch when he squeezed her forearm.
“Thank you, Freddy. And remember, no one can know we’re alive until Avery arrests the killers.”
Wearing Freddy’s big gloves and scarf, she left the warmth of the Hummer. Alone on the unplowed sidewalk, she waited for her brother to negotiate the intersection before heading for Avery’s home. The falling snow twirled around her, reducing visibility.
As she approached the house from the road, the front door opened and light filtered outside. Two strangers dressed in black snowsuits carried a motionless body. Afraid to come any closer, she crouched behind a spruce tree.
When the two individuals sidestepped to avoid Avery’s RCMP snowmobile, the victim’s head flopped backwards, baring his smudged face to the light. Avery?
Hannah’s knees buckled. Down in the snow, she gripped a branch with both hands. The wind prickled her eyes, and she blinked away the moisture building behind her eyelids.
A single headlight shone into the night, revealing a snowmobile previously hidden behind Avery’s civilian truck. The taller stranger strapped Avery’s unconscious form to the backrest while the other walked around the truck. Another headlight came to life, and a second snowmobile emerged from the shadows. A draft of snow rose into the air.
The snowmobiles disappeared into the night.
No! Avery had stashed her son away without telling her where. For your sake, Stone, you better stay alive—or I will kill you myself.
She dashed inside the house and missed dodging the sticky blood puddles on the living room floor. Her stomach revved up. With great effort, she willed its contents to stay down. Paw prints mixed with her bloody boot prints. She followed them to Avery’s bedroom. Curled into a tight ball in the closet with maroon stains speckling her white fur, Snowflake looked at her with sad brown eyes.
“Come here, girl.”
Her doggie wobbled toward her with uneven gait. Hannah scooped her in her arms.
Gently stroking, she tucked the animal inside her winter coat to appease the tremors shaking the warm, furry body. “What am I going to do with you?”
The man who was supposed to protect her needed help.
Hannah’s memory was showing signs of improvement, but her hearing didn’t. If she kept Snowflake, the dog could act as her ears. In her frightened state, the small female was bound to react to the slightest noise or threat.
“Let me examine you.” A
side from a cut near her nose and a tender paw, which Snowflake retracted when Hannah patted it, it didn’t appear the animal had suffered any other external injuries. “I’d love to take you to the vet, but we don’t have time.”
Using two scarfs she found in the closet, Hannah strapped the dog to her chest. Making knots with two fingers taped together was awkward and slow. She ground her teeth every time she tugged. You’ll pay for this, Cooper.
The two strangers had taken an awful risk kidnapping an officer from his house, less than a hundred meters away from the detachment. Avery hadn’t trusted any of his colleagues, and while he didn’t share his reasons, she relied on his instincts. To report Avery missing or to seek Freddy’s assistance weren’t feasible options, not with a raging storm quickly erasing the tracks left behind by the hijackers.
I need a weapon and the key. Two of Greta’s hunting knives were still on the mantle. The third one—the one she’d reached for when Cooper attacked her—and Avery’s gun were nowhere in sight. She took the knives, and as she searched for the key, the schematic of how to hotwire a snowmobile flashed in her mind. How come I know that?
Both alarmed and fascinated by her own expertise, she nevertheless pushed the scenario aside. As skilled as she might be, she couldn’t wire snowmobiles equipped with safety systems, and she bet police vehicles entered that category.
The kitchen had been thrashed. Among the broken jars on the counter, a silver key lay under a transparent shard.
You better be it.
***
Bouncing around like a puppet, with only a rope tied around his chest to keep him from being thrown in the snow, Avery pried his eyes open. The swelling narrowed his vision to two slits. The cold burned his face, the bumps tortured his buttocks, and the bindings squeezed his wrists, trapping his arms between his back and the backrest of the snowmobile.