by Lisa Orchard
Alex grabbed her arm. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, just a moment of dizziness,” Sarah said with a shy smile.
She grew silent as the group made their way to the café. Taking a deep breath and brushing her hair away from her face, she took in the activity on the street. There were a few people wandering in and out of the stores, but it still wasn’t busy. She could tell life ran at a slower pace in this town, almost as if it had its own time zone.
The wind lifted her hair as she walked and Sarah took another deep breath. She loved the brisk breeze and the smell of the lake on the air. There was nothing like being near the water. It calmed Sarah and she relaxed even more.
Reaching the café, she opened the door and rushed inside. She found Scoop sitting at a table with a glass of lemonade.
“Scoop did you find out anything?” Sarah asked, after rushing up to the table.
Startled, he glanced up and caught her eye. “Hello there, Super Spies.”
Sarah pulled out a chair and slid into it. She scooted forward until she was eye to eye with Scoop. “Did you find out anything?”
Scoop sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. “It’s hard to say.” He averted his gaze as if he were choosing his words carefully. “I went in there with the idea of pretending to do a history story on the family and the logging industry.”
A waitress appeared and quickly handed out some menus. “I’ll give you folks a few minutes to look the menus over.”
“Thank you,” Scoop said.
“So, what happened?” Sarah pressed, pushing her menu aside.
By this time the rest of the Super Spies had gathered around and were giving the retired reporter their rapt attention.
“We were half way through my questions when his little boy came down the stairs. He’s really sick.”
“And?”
“Then I asked about his son… you know what made him sick that kind of thing.”
Sarah bit her lip, suppressing her frustration. “So, did you find out anything about my parents?”
“Settle down there, missy.” Scoop gave her a disapproving look.
Slouching in her seat, Sarah sighed and brushed her hair away with an impatient hand. Alex nudged her and gave her a wink.
“As I was saying…” Scoop stopped and gave Sarah another pointed look. “I started talking to him about his boy. I guess his son had some sort of reaction to some medication that he’d been taking, and apparently it’s caused some sort of liver damage.”
Sarah leaned forward. “What does that mean?”
“I’m not really sure.” Scoop shook his head. “But he’s suing the company that created the drug. He’s suing them for negligence.”
A tremor ran through Sarah’s body. “For real?”
Scoop eyed Sarah. “Yep.”
“What drug company is he suing?” Sarah clenched her hands into tight fists.
“I’m not sure.” Scoop frowned. “We had to cut the interview short because he had to tend to his son. But I’m going to find out.”
“How?” Sarah asked.
“When someone sues a company or an individual they have to file it with the court. I can check there.”
Sarah nodded just as the waitress returned to take their order. “Are you ready?”
Scrambling for her menu, Sarah pointed at her sister. “Start with her. I haven’t had a chance to look at the menu yet.”
After the waitress finished taking everyone’s order, she put her order pad into her pocket and said, “I’ll get this to the kitchen and be back with your drinks.”
When she disappeared, Sarah stared at her hands for a moment. “Did you find out anything else?”
Scoop shook his head. “Not really… like I said we had to cut the interview short.”
“Did you see the freak?” Jackie asked, leaning forward in her seat.
Scoop furrowed his brow. “The freak?”
Jackie pointed at Sarah. “You tell him.”
Sarah cleared her throat. “There’s this guy. His name’s Burton and he works for the Robinson family.”
Scoop gestured with his hand, encouraging her to continue.
“He rammed into the back of my car with his truck,” Alex interrupted. “There’s this huge dent in the bumper and a bunch of scratches.”
“Are you serious?” Scoop took off his glasses and stared at Alex.
“I’m serious.”
“I don’t know what his deal is,” Sarah continued. “But when he found out we were passing around a picture asking people if they’d seen Mom and Dad, he started following us.”
“How did he know you were passing around a picture?” Scoop asked giving Sarah an intent look. “I mean did you show it to him and then he started following you?”
Sarah shrugged. “No. I don’t know how he knew.”
“And how did he know who was in the picture?”
“And why would he care?” Alex asked.
The waitress reappeared with their drinks and Sarah grabbed hers with greedy hands. Her mouth was as dry as cotton; she took a quick drink of her lemonade. Wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans, she took a deep breath. “We only showed the photo to two people before he started tailing us.”
“Who?” Scoop asked.
Sarah furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. “Dottie and the guy at the bakery.” Her stomach fluttered and then clenched into a knot as dread flowed through her body. “Do you think one of them tipped him off?”
“It’s a good possibility,” Scoop replied grimly.
“But why? I don’t get it,” Alex said with a pained expression. “Why would he care if you’re looking for your parents?”
Sarah gulped. “I don’t know.” She brushed her hair away from her face with a trembling hand and glanced around the restaurant. The feeling of being watched came over her and it was overpowering, but there appeared to be no one else in the diner. Shrinking down in her chair, questions bombarded her brain. Who tipped the Stalker off and why? How is this all connected to my parents? When no answer came to her she sunk down in her seat no longer hungry.
Chapter Nine
When everyone finished eating, the teens made their way to the door while Scoop stayed behind to pay for lunch. Sarah grew quiet on her walk to the car and lagged behind the others. The questions that plagued her earlier resurfaced and whirled through her brain like evil spirits tormenting her with their ranting. She shook her head as if to shake the thoughts from her mind.
The sound of steps behind her sent a wave of relief through her body. Maybe Scoop can help me figure things out. Spinning on her heel, Sarah expected to find the retired reporter behind her.
“Now, I’ve got you,” the Stalker said in his rough smoker’s voice. He grabbed her arm in a vise like grip.
The relief that had flowed through her body moments ago froze like ice and turned into terror. Numb with fear, she struggled to get away.
“Let go of me!” she shrieked in a strangled voice and tried to wriggle out of his grasp.
The Stalker put his hand over her mouth and lifted her into his arms. Sarah gagged as the smell of stale cigarettes assaulted her nostrils. Saliva flooded her mouth and she willed herself not to puke. Struggling proved futile as he effortlessly held her like she was nothing more than a tiny rag doll.
“Hey!” Alex yelled.
The Stalker glanced over his shoulder and tucked Sarah under his arm. He ran toward the alley behind the shops on Main Street. She beat at him with her fists but to no avail, he ignored her and darted into the alley.
The yells and pounding feet of her friends filled Sarah’s ears and she hoped they weren’t far behind. The Stalker ducked into the back door of a candle shop. Closing the door, he stopped and listened as the Super Spies searched for them.
A glimmer of hope coursed through Sarah’s veins as she listened to the sounds of her companions’ searching for her. Tears welled in her eyes when the Stalker clamped his hand tighter over her mouth. Her t
eeth dug into her tender lips and she tasted blood as it seeped from a cut. The heavy fragrance of the candles filled her senses and made her dizzy. Frustrated and furious, she struggled against the man, needing air.
The Stalker held her tighter and Sarah’s panic ramped up a notch. The smell of the candles and the tight grip of the Stalker were taking their toll. She fought to breathe; the man must have thought she was trying to escape because he tightened his grip even more. Sarah’s fear took over and she passed out in his arms.
She awoke to the sound of a lawn mower. The light was dim; Sarah squinted as she glanced around her, taking in her surroundings. Finding herself in a small bedroom, Sarah realized she was stretched out on a bed. She shuddered at the thought of the Stalker touching her. Sitting up, she took in the furniture. This must be a guest bedroom somewhere. Sarah stood and gingerly tested her balance. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her thudding heart.
The furniture in the room was made of a dark wood. Maybe mahogany. She tiptoed to the door and with a quiet hand tried the doorknob. Crap, it’s locked. But she knew in her heart it would be.
Against the wall opposite the bed stood a small desk. Sarah crept toward it; she was halfway there when the wood floor creaked under her feet. Her heart leapt to her throat and tingles of fear ran through her body like an electrical current. She froze. Listening for footsteps, Sarah’s anxiety increased when she realized she couldn’t hear anything but the thrumming sound of the blood in her ears.
After standing motionless for what seemed like hours, Sarah continued her journey. It was getting darker in the room, she looked around confused. And then it dawned on her, it was getting darker outside. Panic rippled through her body and she changed her direction and moved toward the window. She peered out and found the late afternoon sun. What time is it?
A clatter in the hall sent her scurrying back to the bed. Fear gripped her in its icy fingers and her body went cold when she heard the sound of the key in the lock. Lying down, she curled in a ball and feigned sleep.
The door squeaked open. Footsteps made the floorboards creak as if the person they belonged to were a big man. Sarah fought the urge to open her eyes. She heard a clatter of what sounded like dishes, then more footsteps and creaking boards. Warm breath on her face raised goose bumps on her skin. Clenching her teeth, she held her breath and again fought the urge to open her eyes. Lying motionless, she prayed the person would leave soon. Her prayers were rewarded, because the floorboards creaked again and then the sound of the door closing.
She laid still waiting and listening for the person to come back. It was the Stalker she was sure of it. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the scent of stale cigarettes and a new wave of panic surged through her system. Fighting her fear, she sat up and stared at the desk.
A tray of food sat on top of it. Her stomach rumbled. What time is it? Another wave of panic surged through her body. Where is everyone? How am I going to get a hold of Jackie and the rest of the guys? With a frantic hand she patted the front pocket of her jeans, searching for her cell phone. When she felt the familiar bump, a sob escaped her clenched lips.
Relief flowed through her system like a slow moving stream, when she opened her phone and found she had a signal. She punched in Jackie’s number.
“Hello? Sarah?” Jackie answered.
Sarah jumped at the sound of her friend’s voice. “Hey,” she whispered.
“Holy cow! It’s Sarah, everyone!” Sarah pictured Jackie jumping up and down in an attempt to get everyone’s attention. A smile spread across her face in spite of her dire circumstances.
“Jack… listen to me.”
“Sarah, are you okay?”
“Yeah… I’m okay. I’m in some house. I’m locked in a bedroom. It was that freak… he grabbed me right off of the street.” Sarah glanced around to make sure no one was coming.
“I know. We think he took you to the spooky house at the top of the hill. Is there any way you can figure out where you are?”
“I’ll try. What time is it?”
“It’s about four o’clock.”
“Where are you guys?” Sarah asked. She bit her lip and took a shaky breath.
“We’re still in town. Lacey called your aunt and told her you guys would be home later. You’re doing homework over at my house.”
“All right, I’m going to look around. I’ll call you back.”
Sarah disconnected the call. She eyed the food sitting on the desk and her stomach rumbled again. Sarah stood on wobbly legs and then walked over and inspected the food. Shock ran through her body, gasping she stepped back. Placing her hand to her throat, she stepped closer to the desk and examined the food on the plate. It was a cheeseburger… just a normal cheeseburger, but the fries were another matter. They were the thick steak fries she loved, her favorite, and they were placed on the plate in the shape of a teepee. Each fry stood on one end and the other end was placed against the other fries making the shape of a teepee.
A memory flashed into her brain and a sob burst through her lips. She used to make teepees just like this when she was a little girl. She remembered her father showing her how to construct them one lazy Sunday afternoon at a family reunion. She had been bored and she started acting silly to pass the time, her father and Lacey had joined in with her. Her father had painstakingly showed the girls how to build the french fry teepees and they had burst into hysterical laughter at their first attempts. It was one of her favorite memories. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
Touching the fries, she gasped when they fell in a perfect circle, each one overlapping the other. The design looked like a perfect french fry flower. Her father had been the only person who had been able to do that. With a shaking hand, Sarah touched the fries. How does the Stalker know about this? This is totally freaking me out. Trembling with fear, she backed away. Then returned and opened the drawers searching for anything that would get her out of this prison.
Pulling open the middle drawer, Sarah found a pad of paper, envelopes, and a letter opener. She pulled out the letter opener and examined it. Turning, she made her way to the window and found it locked. But it was an old fashioned window and Sarah unlocked it without too much effort. She struggled, pushing on the sash but the window wouldn’t budge. Studying it, she found that it had been painted shut. Taking the letter opener, she began the tedious task of scraping the paint away.
The french fry teepee forgotten, she worked furiously at her task, determined to get out of the room. Paint chips flew through the air and landed in her hair and on her clothing. They fell to the floor covering it in a fine dust. She was making progress; the window started to wiggle when she pushed on it.
Pursing her lips, Sarah blew air through them. She paused and wiped the sweat from her brow. Placing the letter opener on the bed she pushed on the window with all her might. Almost.
Grabbing her tool, Sarah stepped toward the window and froze. The sound of the floor creaking sent her heart racing. She spun toward the sound and her stomach clenched. A shadow passed by the bottom of the door. Shoving the letter opener in the back of her pants, she brushed at the dust on the floor with her foot, spreading it under the bed. She flicked the paint chips off of her shirt and dove onto the bed. The springs groaned an objection to her encroachment.
The key in the lock sent dread flooding through her body. She tried to swallow the saliva filling her mouth and almost choked because her throat was closing up. Taking a deep breath, Sarah squeezed her eyes shut just as the door opened.
The floorboards creaked as the intruder passed the bed. Sarah couldn’t resist the urge to sneak a peek and opened her eyes into tiny slits. The dark form of a man was all she could see. She couldn’t even tell who it was until the familiar scent of stale cigarettes filled the air. Man, what a hideous smell. Closing her eyes, she pretended to be asleep.
“I know you’re awake,” he said in his gravelly voice.
The clatter of dishes grated on Sarah’s
nerves, but she remained silent and prayed he’d just go away.
“Things would be a lot easier for you if you just answered my questions.”
Go away! Sarah shrieked in a silent scream. Her head seemed to explode with the force of her unuttered words.
The Stalker exhaled a heavy sigh and then left the room. At the sound of the key in the lock, Sarah leapt from the bed determined to escape her prison. She went back to work on the window and a few minutes later her efforts were rewarded. When she pushed on it, the window gave way with a groan and a shudder.
The cool air rushed into the room and she slumped against the wall in relief. Then she pushed the window wider and stared out into a grove of trees. Looking at the ground, Sarah whispered a prayer of thanks. The drop was only four or five feet. I’ve done that before; easy peasy.
Casting a quick glance over her shoulder, Sarah scrambled out the window and down to the ground below. Landing with a soft thud, she peered through the trees and recognized the yard. She had indeed been inside the Robinson home. What is going on?
Taking a deep breath, she caught the scent of freshly mowed grass. It reminded her of summer and simpler times. Shaking her head, she moved into a crouched position. She felt like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse. Glancing on either side of her, Sarah searched for the Stalker. When she didn’t find him, she took off sprinting, making her way through the yard and to the town below.
Running down the street Sarah pounded the pavement and wondered where her companions were. She made it to the center of the tiny burg and shivered in the cool air. Where are all the people? A black truck appeared at the top of the hill, sending her heart into overdrive. Overwhelmed by fear, Sarah searched for a place to hide. The alley!
Turning the corner, she booked into the alley and with frantic eyes searched for a hiding place. Spying a large dumpster, she scrambled underneath. It was a tight fit and Sarah clenched her teeth to keep from yelling out when she hit her elbow on the dumpster. Taking deep breaths, she struggled to get her phone out of her pocket. She had to turn on her side and wedge herself between the ground and the dumpster in order to punch in the number.