Appalachian Abduction (Lavender Mountain Book 2; Appalachian Magic)

by Debbie Herbert

  “No, ma’am. That’s not why we’re here,” James said.

  Charlotte sank onto the sofa next to him while Maddie seated herself opposite, crossing her long legs and smoothing the front of her skirt.

  “Sounds ominous,” she said with a tinkling laugh. “It’s usually so peaceful here. That’s why Richard and I bought this place, to escape the noise and the crowds of Atlanta. Don’t even get me started on the city traffic. The older we get, the more time we seem to spend here at Falling Rock. Excuse my manners. Would you care for some coffee?”

  “Yes—” Charlotte began.

  “No.” James shrugged. “Okay, coffee would be great. Thanks.”

  Maddie turned her head and motioned to the maid. “Colleen, serve us coffee and a few slices of that lemon pound cake the chef baked this morning.” She faced them again. “It’s loaded with sugar, but delicious. Do try a piece.”

  Hard to believe the perfect woman in front of them ever ate anything but carrots and tofu. She must have an iron will to keep that figure with a pastry chef in the house, Charlotte mused.

  James pulled a five-by-seven photograph of Jenny from his coat pocket. “Do you know this person?”

  Maddie took the photo and examined it for several seconds. “No. Sorry. Is she in some sort of trouble?”

  “She’s been missing for two weeks,” James said.

  Damn, Charlotte had to give it to him. He might have been working in law enforcement for only a few months, but he had the poker face of an officer experienced at interrogating people.

  “That poor girl,” Maddie cooed, returning the photo. “I take it she’s from Lavender Mountain?”

  “No, metro Atlanta,” Charlotte piped in.

  “Is that so?” One perfectly tweezed brow arched, again with no accompanying wrinkles.

  It was freaky, Charlotte decided. Unnatural.

  “Why on earth are you looking for her way out here, then?” Maddie asked, directing her attention at James. “Does she have family in the area?”

  “We’re following a tip,” he commented, giving nothing away.

  “Hard to believe she’s landed in such a remote area. I’d imagine strangers in our community would be easily noticeable, at least during this time of year, with the tourist season over.”

  “So you’d think,” James agreed. “But so far, no one’s claimed to have seen her.”

  “Then I’m afraid your tip must have been a bad one. Perhaps an attempt to steer you in the wrong direction?”

  James nodded. “That’s very astute of you.”

  Oh, yes, the man was definitely good at his job. Charlotte stood and casually stretched her shoulders. “That’s an amazing view you have here,” she said, stepping over to the windows against the back wall. Down below, she observed four muscled men dressed in jeans and sporting navy T-shirts. They’d obviously stepped up their security game. She squinted but failed to spot Sammy. Wherever he was staked out, he’d done a fine job of camouflaging his presence.

  “It is lovely, isn’t it? Ah, Colleen, that was quick. Thank you.”

  The maid set down a tray on the coffee table and then quickly left the room as Maddie leaned over to pour.

  “I’d like to wash up first,” Charlotte said. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Down the hall and fifth door on your left,” Maddie replied with apparent unconcern.

  A quick glance at James’s face showed a caution warning in his eyes. He might be a good officer, but this wasn’t her first search. Well, technically, this was not a search. It was a mere observation of the property that could be legally obtained through a casual stroll.

  She slowly walked down the hallway, grateful for the open doors. She passed three bedrooms, each huge with large windows and carpet that appeared to be inches thick, the kind that would feel like walking on pillows. The furniture was heavy wood, and the dressers were empty of any sign that someone actually slept there.

  She looked up in the corners of the hallways and bedrooms, curious to see if there were any cameras. Nothing obvious, though they could be cleverly hidden and out of sight. But if she were caught spying on their camera, she could claim she’d mistakenly taken a wrong turn.

  Charlotte stepped into one of the bedrooms. The carpeting was as plush as she’d imagined. She halted in the middle of the room, furrowing her brow as if she’d mistakenly entered. If nothing else, a decent undercover cop knew how to put on an act.

  But her side excursion didn’t help. The closet doors were shut, and even on the opposite side of the dresser bureau, there was no stray clothing or any strewn item to suggest a person used the room. No, the girls were more likely locked in a basement as Karen had claimed—although these bedrooms on the main floor might be used by potential clients to “try out the wares.”

  The mere thought stiffened her spine and strengthened her resolve to save Jenny. Charlotte left the room and located the bathroom. Gleaming white bounced from walls to ceiling with marble tiles, counters and flooring. As much as she admired the cozy opulence of the rest of the main floor, the white-on-white décor smacked too much of a sterile hospital to suit her tastes.

  A camera in here would be inappropriate in all kind of ways, but anyone who kidnapped teenage girls for trafficking was not above installing a discreet bathroom camera. Charlotte leisurely washed her hands and let her eyes rove. Again, everything was meticulously clean and devoid of human personality. She opened cabinet drawers stocked with unopened toothbrushes and toothpaste for guests. The far-left drawer held a pewter hairbrush, but the few hairs in it were long and silver—Maddie’s. Charlotte strained her ears, opening her senses to even the faintest whisper.

  But only James’s and Maddie’s voices droned from the den. Disappointed, she returned to them. James fired a quick inquiring glance over his coffee cup, and she shook her head in an almost imperceptible move.

  “Will you be in attendance at the fund-raiser?” Maddie asked. “We always invite the officers and their families, even young children. That is, if they’re old enough to be awake in the later hours of the evening. It’s a real family affair.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” he declared.

  “Me neither,” Charlotte said, sitting down by James. “Rookies are invited, too, I take it.”

  Maddie’s smile never wavered, but a cold snap flashed for a second in her dark eyes. “Of course, dear.”

  So the platinum witch was one of those who viewed other females as competition. That, or Maddie had somehow guessed her true identity. Game on. Charlotte picked up her coffee cup and settled into the cushions, as if intending to make herself at home for a very long time.

  “I hear there will be live music.” Charlotte sipped the black coffee. “I can’t speak for any of the other officers, but I plan on dancing until the music stops and the maids have to shoo me away at dawn.”

  “Lovely,” Maddie said drily, shifting her attention back to James. “I heard about the commotion yesterday near Falling Rock. So shocking. Hope the officers involved are all okay?”

  “We’re both fine.”

  “Oh? It was you and—” Maddie leaned forward and scrutinized Charlotte’s badge. “Officer Bailey Hanson.”

  Her name on the badge was a fake. A precautionary measure.

  Charlotte lifted her chin. “We’re still kicking. Obviously. Not so sure about the other guys, though. Any of your men show up hurt today, by chance?”

  Maddie blinked. “As far as I know, they’re just fine. You suspect one of them was involved in the incident?”

  She made a mental note to ask Sammy if any of the workers outside looked as if they’d suffered injuries.

  “It could be anyone,” James said. “We’ve been talking to everyone in the neighborhood who’s home.”

  Charlotte helped herself to a slice of the pound cake and bit into the buttery goodness. “Y
um. This is delicious. Will you be catering the fund-raiser?”

  “Of course. The menu’s set. We’ll have hors d’oeuvres and shrimp canapés and tea cakes. Plenty of champagne, as well.”

  Charlotte turned to James. “That should keep us all busy.”

  “What do you mean?” Maddie asked.

  “All the catering and staff coming in and out of here will be monitored. We’ve set up camp at the gatehouse to record every vehicle and person that enters and exits Falling Rock. Can’t be too careful. Kidnappers are on the loose.” Charlotte set her plate down with a clatter. Let Maddie stew over that bit of information.

  James stood. “See you soon, Mrs. Stowers. Thanks for the coffee.”

  Maddie stood, as well, smoothing down the front of her skirt again, then following them to the door. “My pleasure. We’ll look forward to the event. Richard and I always enjoy this occasion. It’s the least we can do to give back to this community. Lavender Mountain is our little home away from home. I understand that the proceeds from our event provides as much as twenty-five percent of your annual budget.”

  Charlotte almost snorted. Way to plug her political influence.

  “The sheriff, and all of us, are most grateful,” James said.

  “I believe in giving back.”

  Charlotte hated the self-righteous tone of Maddie’s voice.

  “In Atlanta, I do lots of volunteer work, as well,” the woman continued. “My favorite is working at the teen suicide hotline. So many young lives in crisis.”

  Charlotte’s nerve endings tingled, and her mouth went dry.

  James nodded. “Thank you for your service.”

  Maddie closed the door softly behind them, and Charlotte followed James to the cruiser. Inside, he turned to her. “What gives? I saw you tense up there at the end.”

  “The crisis hotline. My source about the Stowerses? Karen Hicks was suicidal and had called a hotline for help not long before she was kidnapped.”

  “Well,” he said, starting the car, “it appears we’ve found our Pied Piper.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Why are we stopping here?” Charlotte asked.

  James mentally shook himself and stared at his father’s cabin. Yet again, it seemed like the old homestead drew him even when he had no conscious plan to visit. Not that he’d admit that to Charlotte. It smacked of a weak character.

  “Thought we’d visit Sammy. Check to see if any of the Stowerses’ men have shown signs of injury. See if there’s anything unusual.”

  She shrugged. “Beats doing nothing.”

  Her voice sounded as discouraged as his thoughts. For the last several days, all their knocking on doors and combing through the gatekeeper’s records had yielded nothing other than an immediate complaint from the Falling Rock management corporation and the ire of the residents.

  “My four-wheeler’s still parked in the shed. Shouldn’t take too long to go have a look.”

  Dispiritedly, Charlotte tagged along beside him as he pulled out the ATV. The case weighed heavily on her. For several nights, he couldn’t help overhearing bits and pieces of Charlotte’s conversation with her friend, Tanya. She’d tried to convey optimism, but after hanging up the phone, her face would be tight and withdrawn.

  He knew that helpless feeling. When his own family had been in crisis, he’d been stuck in Afghanistan and unable to protect his sisters. Sometimes at night, he had lain awake on his cot, and worry had buzzed his brain like a storm of hungry gnats.

  If she was anything like him—and he suspected Charlotte was—then the best cure was to keep busy, keep digging and poking even when there seemed no point. Even the tiniest clue could often make or break a case.

  Charlotte zipped her uniform jacket all the way up and donned gloves and earmuffs. “You’re not worried about blowing Sammy’s cover?”

  “Not particularly.” He started the engine, and it sparked to life on the second try. “They already know we’re watching them,” he explained, raising his voice above the running motor. “Hop on.”

  She climbed on the back seat, and the contact of her body against his made him grit his teeth. Never had he once imagined being turned on by a partner when he entered into the life of an easygoing, small-town deputy. His dream of a quiet life wasn’t panning out, but as he ran over a rut and Charlotte’s body bounced against his back, James knew he wouldn’t want it any other way.

  He accelerated the engine. Trees and shrubs raced past his vision, and the chill mountain air invigorated his body and spirits. The land here never failed him—it was vast and constant, and every hill and hollow was imprinted in his DNA. His old army buddies questioned his decision to return to Lavender Mountain, but James knew this was his home, his land. The place he belonged.

  He almost drove right past Sammy, who’d parked his camouflaged ATV behind a dense clump of evergreens. Only the sun glinting off the binocular lenses gave away his location. No surprise there. Sammy and Harlan and he used to hunt together, and each knew how to blend into the woods. James drew up beside him.

  “Trying to blow my cover?” Sammy asked, but his eyes held their usual good humor.

  “Doesn’t much matter. They know we’re keeping watch.”

  “Anything new happening?”

  “Not a damn thing,” Charlotte said, swinging one leg over the side and stepping down to the ground. “I want to nail Maddie Stowers so bad. She has the moral compass of a sociopath.”

  “The steel magnolia type, eh?” Sammy asked.

  “In an evil way, yes. My theory is that Maddie often finds vulnerable, at-risk girls while working at a teen suicide hotline and then lures them into the trafficking ring. Either that or she preys on the homeless...whoever she can find who’s vulnerable. Seen any unusual activity?”

  “Nope. Just these men half-assed picking up broken branches and debris. Must be paid by the hour,” he joked.

  “Nobody staring out the window?”

  James’s heart pinched. She was desperate to know Jenny was alive and well.

  “Sorry, Detective. Nothing.”

  James took the binoculars from Sammy’s hands and stared at the crew. None appeared scratched-up or marred as though they’d experienced a near-fatal car crash days ago. But the Stowerses certainly had enough resources to keep hiring as many men as needed to maintain security. If one or two went down, they could easily hire more staff as replacements. Human trafficking was a lucrative business.

  He recalled the immense house with its indoor heated pool and every other amenity for two people who lived there only part-time. No doubt their Atlanta mansion was just as opulent. And all of it earned off the misery of abused children.

  Charlotte tugged at his jacket sleeve. “What do you see? My turn.”

  He handed her the binoculars and climbed back on the ATV. “Guess we’ll go for a spin down the road a bit,” he told Sammy. “Check out the area.”

  Charlotte sighed and returned the field glasses.

  Again he reveled in the weight of her body braced against his as they rode, the ATV shaking and pitching in the deeply rutted dirt path. But as they rounded the curve leading away from Falling Rock, Charlotte yelled, “Stop!” waving an arm and pointing behind her.

  James slammed on the brakes, and the ATV spun in a semicircle, sending up bits of mud and leaves. “What is it?”

  “Over there, near the edge of the clearing. There are two men with shovels and a garbage bag. Do you think—”

  “That they’re digging a shallow grave?” He thought of the spilled blood they’d found earlier in the week. “Yeah. Could be. Or could they might be ’sengers.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll explain later.” James stepped on the gas and reversed direction. “Let’s find out which it is.”

  The two men abruptly stopped digging and eyed them wa
rily. The eldest, sporting a long gray beard, hugged a garbage bag to his chest as he high-tailed it to a four-wheeler. The other guy, who looked young enough to be his son, or even grandson, dropped both his shovel and bag and also made a beeline for their mud-splattered vehicle.

  “Halt!” James yelled.

  Their old motor engine turned over once, then twice, before it started. James pulled in beside them, and the old man reached for a shotgun mounted on the hood.

  Damn it. The old coot had a couple of seconds’ bead on him. No way he could stop his ATV and withdraw his sidearm before he was already looking down the barrel of the mountain man’s shotgun.

  “Drop it!” Charlotte commanded. She half fell off the back seat, and then landed on her feet like a cat, gun drawn and aimed.

  A blur of brown came between him and the old dude.

  “Hell, no.” The old man abandoned the attempt to grab his weapon and hit the gas. The old contraption lurched forward.

  This was a chase the men had no chance of winning. “Get back on,” he ordered Charlotte.

  “Hell with that.” She fired a warning shot, the blast echoing through the hollow.

  The younger man glanced back, eyes round as a full moon. The ATV jerked to the right. The driver had enough smarts to get off the main path and try to lose them in the woods.

  Charlotte dropped her weapon. “I had a shot at their back tire, but he switched directions on me at the last minute.”

  James revved the engine. “Get on. We’ll catch them.”

  Quickly she climbed on board, and he gave chase. Had it been summer, the men might have been able to conceal their whereabouts, using green foliage as camouflage. But in the November barrenness, they were dead meat.

  A shot rang out.

  Son of a bitch. Did they really expect to get away with shooting two officers of the law in broad daylight? And then escaping on an old ATV that probably had a maximum speed of only thirty miles per hour? What the hell did they think they were doing? If they were guilty of illegally harvesting wild ginseng, as he now suspected, the pickers had way overreacted.