by B. J Daniels
Ignoring the woman, she turned back to the bed, placing her hand on Russell’s arm and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be back,” she said to him. “You just get well. I’ll take care of everything.”
“You need to leave,” the nurse said.
Sarah finally turned her look at the woman. She wanted to bat her away like a pesky fly. Smash her under her shoe sole. I wouldn’t mess with me right now.
But the last thing she needed was to get arrested for making a scene in ICU.
“I’ll be back,” she said to the nurse.
“Not if you aren’t family,” the woman said as if needing to get the last word.
Sarah glanced over her shoulder as she left to give the woman a withering look. The nurse had the good sense to keep her trap shut.
It wasn’t until she pushed out the door of the hospital that she let the raging emotions hit her. She gulped the cold night air, sucking it in as if suffocating. Her hands balled into fists. She wanted to wail at the moon. Instead, she staggered to her car and leaned against it until she got control again.
Her right arm ached. She touched it and pulled back in surprise. There was a tender spot. She couldn’t remember hurting it. Frowning, she got behind the wheel and turned on the interior light. As she pushed up her sleeve, she saw the needle mark. It was red around it.
It wasn’t short-term memory loss. She’d been drugged. It explained why she still felt disoriented. But why?
Her mind seemed to clear of her earlier fury. She sat for a moment before the truth hit her like a tire iron between the eyes. With a wave of horror, she knew that Russell being attacked was only the first part of the message that had been sent expressly to her.
She started the engine and threw the car into gear. She had to get to Cassidy and Jack before it was too late.
* * *
THE FIGURE CAME out of the darkness to Jack’s right. Another to their left. Jack got off a shot, but it went wild. He’d been expecting an attack, just not one from both sides. He felt a blow to his solar plexus. All the air rushed from his lungs. He was taken down hard, the gun wrenched from his grip, as he fought to get the two large, powerful men off him.
“Run!” he managed to cry out, knowing it was Cassidy’s only chance. The men who had him were too big, too strong and too determined. They’d also gotten a jump on him. In a fair fight, he thought he could have taken them. But not like this.
Cassidy’s scream pierced the night air, sending a terrified chill through him. Jack fought harder, heartsick at not being able to protect her. He heard a struggle ensue off to his left, which meant there were at least three assailants, maybe more.
Her scream seemed to wind down, slowing, trickling into a mew of a cry. He knew that she’d been drugged with something fast and powerful as he felt the needle bite into his thigh. He kept struggling even as the drug raced through his veins and took all the fight out of him.
The two burly men who’d attacked him dropped him to the floor without ceremony. Jack felt something warm run down into his left eye. Blood. He thought his ribs might be cracked, his whole body ached, but the real pain was in his heart.
“Cassidy?” His voice came out in a whisper. She didn’t answer. Jack tried to fight the drug but it was useless. He couldn’t get up. He couldn’t move. His body seemed to be sinking into the floor. The dark night around him was getting blacker. Cassidy. They had her.
* * *
SARAH DROVE TOO fast to the old ranch house, no longer worried about leading anyone to Cassidy and Jack. She watched her rearview mirror, though, almost hoping someone was following her, because that would mean that she hadn’t given up Cassidy’s location.
But there was nothing but dust and darkness behind her. They hadn’t been waiting at the hospital for her so she would lead them to Jack and Cassidy. They were already at Jack and Cassidy’s, she thought with growing panic.
The sun rose, a bright blinding orange that foretold of the summer day ahead. She could feel the heat of it coming in the car windows, but it did little to chase away the chill that had settled in her.
All her instincts told her that she’d misjudged her power over Joe. Then again, he’d misjudged her. Did he really think she’d take this lying down? He had all the control. At least for the moment, she assured herself. She had to hold herself together. She had to think smart. She had to save Cassidy.
As she came over a rise, she saw the ranch house ahead. The rental vehicle was gone. She had told Jack and Cassidy to stay at the house. Maybe they hadn’t listened and had gone somewhere. For once, she hoped that was the case.
Parking, she jumped out and ran up the steps to the porch. There was a wet spot on the worn wood decking where someone had recently wiped up a spill. It had left a dull red tint to the wood.
Heart in her throat, she tried the door. It came open, the door creaking into the cool, musty room.
Sarah stood for a moment feeling her age. She wasn’t that gun-toting teenager anymore. But she’d stayed in good shape, secretly doing aerobic workouts at night when she was alone. Even before she’d gotten back her memory, she’d exercised as if it was something she’d always done.
Clearly, a part of her brain had known that one day she would need all the physical strength she could muster.
She took a step into the house. More spots on the floor where something had been wiped up. Her gaze went to the stairs. No spots. No glint of recently washed wooden steps. No reason to go upstairs. Jack and Cassidy weren’t here. Whatever had happened, had taken place right here in front of the door.
Her cell phone rang. It made a hollow, eerie sound in the empty house. She let it ring four times before she picked up.
“I’m going to cut you some slack,” Joe said without preamble. “You haven’t regained your memory, so don’t bother to lie. Because of that, you’re behaving with emotion instead of good sense.”
She waited, not giving him the satisfaction of asking what he’d done with her daughter. Or Martin’s son.
“You need to take care of business. No more distractions. That’s why I had your daughter taken. As long as you hold up your end of things, she will be fine.”
If only she could believe that. Still, she didn’t speak.
“Martin is coming to take care of his son. In the meantime, you do whatever you have to do to convince your husband you want nothing else but for him to be our next president. Otherwise—”
“You don’t have to bother with more threats,” she said, finally speaking. “You think I don’t remember you?” She let out a chuckle. “Oh, I remember you. I look forward to when we finally get to see each other again.”
He let out a surprised laugh. “Why do I feel like I’m the one being threatened? Bring it on, Sarah. You and me. Just the two of us. In the meantime, you aren’t in a position to—”
She disconnected. Her legs felt wobbly and weak beneath her, but she managed to turn and walk back off the porch steps to her car. He was right. She shouldn’t waste her time trying to find her daughter. Joe was no fool. Cassidy could be anywhere by now.
For so long now, she’d been stalling for time. She’d told herself that she couldn’t marry Buck because it would be playing right into The Prophecy’s hands. But now that they had kidnapped Cassidy, Sarah knew what she had to do. It was the only way she could save her family and Buck—and her country—from The Prophecy.
Once behind the wheel, she called Buck. “Let’s get married. Right away.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CASSIDY SURFACED AS if swimming up from the deep dark bottom of a lake. She opened her eyes, sitting up and gasping for breath. Her head swam and she had to lie back down as she took in her surroundings. Her breathing quickened with fresh anxiety as she looked around the strange room. There were containers of food and water on shelves against one w
all. A toilet like ones she’d seen advertised for camping sat in one corner behind a folding screen.
“Jack?” Her voice echoed in the small chamber. “Jack!” she called more shrilly. She heard nothing. The walls seemed to be super insulated. Either that or she was underground.
That thought sent a shock of terror through her. Her gaze shot to the door. She knew it would be locked. Still she slipped her legs over the side of the bed where she had awakened and stumbled to it. Handle in hand, she tried to turn it. Locked, just as she’d expected and yet she felt a wave of disappointment that turned to panic. She felt as if she’d been buried alive.
“Jack!” she screamed and had to cover her ears from the loud echo. Tears blurred her eyes. She swayed, still feeling the effects of the drug she’d been injected with.
As she dropped to the bed again, she put her face in her hands. She’d trusted her mother. Worse, she’d talked Jack into trusting her. What had they done to him? She couldn’t bear to think.
She became aware of a fan whirring softly and felt the faint air around her stir. Some of her panic eased. She had oxygen, and plenty of food and water. She could survive for weeks, maybe even months. That thought only made her panic kick in again.
* * *
THE IMPROMPTU WEDDING of presidential candidate Buckmaster Hamilton and his former wife, Sarah Johnson Hamilton, was all over the news. Nettie had released the information the moment her friend at the clerk and recorder’s office had called.
“Are you sitting down?” the friend had whispered. From the background sounds, it appeared she was in the ladies’ room at the courthouse. “Buckmaster Hamilton just paid $53 for a wedding license.” Her excitement seemed to make the phone hum. “He’s marrying his first wife again!”
“Sarah? He’s marrying Sarah,” Nettie had said more to herself than to her friend. Hadn’t she suspected this would happen?
She got off the phone as quickly as possible and called her husband.
“Sheriff Curry,” he answered gruffly. If he was having a bad day, it was going to get worse with this news.
“Buck is marrying Sarah. They just bought the license.”
Frank was silent for a moment. “What the hell is Buck thinking?”
“He’s in love.”
“If that’s it, then love is blind and stupid,” her husband said, irritating her.
“Except in our case, you mean?”
He chuckled. “Except in our case.”
“Does this make you more worried?” she had to ask. Frank had called in the FBI to investigate Sarah when she’d mysteriously returned to town. He’d been worried about her timing, coming back right as her former husband had thrown his hat into the presidential race.
The mystery surrounding Sarah had only grown over the past year and a half. While Frank had no proof of any wrongdoing, he was convinced that Sarah had been a member of an anarchist group that called themselves The Prophecy.
To Nettie’s surprise, Frank had let her help in the unofficial investigation after the FBI signed off on it. She and Frank had been able to find the sanitarium where Sarah had allegedly gone after she’d driven her car into the river in an apparent suicide attempt. From there, Nettie had talked to a nurse’s aide who’d worked there and been able to track down the doctor who had allegedly treated Sarah.
Dr. Venable had been experimenting with brain wiping. Nettie had tracked him to a clinic in Brazil and talked a worker there into sending a photo of the doctor—and his assistant. The assistant who had been working for Dr. Venable had been none other than Sarah Johnson Hamilton.
But still there was no proof that Sarah had done anything illegal.
“Everything about Sarah Hamilton worries me,” her husband said now. “I don’t like that she’ll be right by his side when Buck wins the election.”
“Unless, because of his marriage, he doesn’t win.”
“He’ll win.” Her husband didn’t sound glad about that.
“If you’re right and Sarah is dangerous, nothing will happen until he’s president, right?”
The sheriff sighed. “I’m just hoping I’m wrong. But there’s not much we can do now.”
“Any luck on finding Russell Murdock’s attacker?” she asked hopefully. She’d heard about it through the usual gossip network. Russell was a nice man whose good luck had changed the day Sarah had stumbled out of the trees in front of his pickup, Nettie thought now.
“No. I talked to the hospital this morning. He’s still in a coma. It doesn’t look good.”
“You think it has something to do with Sarah?”
“Seems like everything bad for the past year and a half ties back to Sarah’s return to Montana.” Frank had been in law enforcement long enough that he was seldom wrong, she thought as she disconnected and went back to work at her part-time job at the Beartooth General Store. She touched the pendulum in her pocket. She’d given up keeping it in a drawer at home or even in her purse. She’d started carrying it with her.
Now she couldn’t wait to be alone. There were several burning questions she wanted to ask it. So far, the pendulum had been right every time.
* * *
JACK HURT ALL OVER. He opened his eyes and everything came back in a rush. He sat up. His head swam. Beany.
“Cassidy,” he called, but wasn’t surprised when all he heard was the echo of his own voice. One look around and he frowned. He appeared to be in a root cellar. Or a bomb shelter, he thought.
Getting up, he stumbled to the supplies stacked on the shelves. His father had had a bomb shelter built years ago on the ranch, back when some apocalyptic religious group was calling for the end of the world. Hadn’t that group settled somewhere around Big Timber, Montana?
He noted that some of the items on the shelves had been purchased in Bozeman. So he was still in Montana? The drug he’d been injected with had left him feeling fuzzy headed, but he was pretty sure that not a lot of time had passed.
What had they done with Cassidy? He moved to the door and tried it. Locked. It also felt solid, not that he was up to using his body as a ramrod to try to bust of out of here right now.
He sat back down on the cot and waited for his head to clear a little more. They hadn’t killed him. That was something. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t at some point.
His gaze took in the space. It was smaller than some college dorm rooms. Good thing he wasn’t claustrophobic, he thought, and wondered if Beany was. He hoped not. That was assuming she was in a room like this, which would mean...
Jack got up again. Most bomb shelters were larger than this one with enough places for an entire family to sleep. Or in the case of that religious group, one of their bomb shelters was said to hold twenty-two-hundred people.
As his head began to clear, his reasoning returned with it. This room had to be one of numerous ones underground. He quickly searched for what he was looking for and was rewarded when he found the panel behind a framed prayer on the wall.
He pushed the first button and spoke into the intercom. “Cassidy, are you there?” No answer. He tried another button with the same results. There were a dozen buttons. He was losing hope when static suddenly filled his room.
“Jack?” Her voice was tremulous but he’d never heard such a wonderful sound.
“Beany.” His own voice was choked with emotion. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. But where are we?”
“I think we’re in a bomb shelter. It’s all right. They aren’t planning to leave us here,” he said even though he had no intention of waiting to see if that was true.
* * *
BUCK LOOKED OVER at his wife and felt as if all was right in the universe—finally. He’d been overjoyed when she’d called and said she wanted to get married right away.
“But don’t you want ou
r girls there?” he’d asked, a little wary. Not only did she want to get married right away, she sounded excited about the prospect.
“They’re all busy with their lives. Anyway, I don’t want to make a huge deal out of this and they’ll want a real wedding. I’ve thought about it and there is no reason to wait. I love you. I want to be your wife. We need to be together. The girls will understand.”
Buck knew part of the reason he’d agreed to it was that he was afraid she might change her mind. He hated that he would even fear that. It hadn’t been his only fear. When he’d heard that Russell Murdock had been assaulted and now lay in a hospital bed near death, he’d worried that Sarah would go back to him.
“There is no required wait period in Montana. We can be married by a judge I know right after we get the license. If that is really what you want.”
“I was afraid I would hurt your career by marrying you with all my...baggage.”
“How is Russell? Or was that the baggage you were referring to?” He’d said it like a joke, but he knew that his jealousy had come out instead.
“Bad. They aren’t sure he’ll ever wake up. That’s another reason I want to marry you and not wait. Life is too short. At the thought that I might lose you...”
“You aren’t going to lose me, Sarah. I’m sure whoever hurt Russell will be caught and punished.”
“I’m planning on that.”
He hadn’t wanted to talk about Russell. He didn’t want to think about him or anyone else other than Sarah.
Now they were cuddled up in bed, husband and wife. His campaign manager had been upset at first when he told him there would be no big showy wedding.
“Sarah and I are married.”
“What? You got married?”
“That’s right and she is going on the campaign trail with me. Deal with it.” He’d hung up, pleased with himself.
Pulling Sarah closer, he breathed in the scent of her, telling himself that everything was going to be all right now. Jerrod had called back, saying he wouldn’t have done it the way Buck had, but he approved and was now putting a positive spin on the marriage. Actually, he sounded pleased almost as if this had been his plan all along.