by June Kramin
“If you stay on this road, someone is going to see you and realize you don’t belong.”
“I’m working on it,” she shouted. “I don’t suppose if I asked you, you’d tell me how to get on a county road.”
“Take the next left. There will be nothing but farm houses in about a mile.”
“And why should I believe you?”
“Do you have a choice?”
She took the next left. The road turned to gravel after a few blocks, but she had no problem maneuvering the car on it. Either it had been graded not long ago or it wasn’t used that much.
“Do you have a plan, or are you just going to drive until you run out of gas?”
“Why don’t you have a GPS in this thing?”
“I don’t need one. I know my town. I’ve been in Vermont all my life and know how to get anywhere three different ways.”
“Typical man.”
“This would go faster if you let me know where you’re going.”
“You’re not coming with me. I need to find a nice quiet place to dump you and get another set of wheels.”
“Grand larceny a past profession of yours?”
“Look. Shut up with the cop shit. I don’t expect you to understand. I don’t see a ring, so there’s no wife and probably no kid.”
“No and probably not,” he agreed, but arrogantly at that.
“You wouldn’t understand what a parent would do for their child.”
“I do understand that you aren’t doing her any favors by breaking a dozen laws. There would have been a way to deal with this properly.”
“Bullshit! You and your law courses. You think you know it all, but you don’t. You never left your small town. Probably never missed a Sunday sermon and sat there like a good little Catholic in your suit and tie.”
“I’m Protestant.”
“Whatever! There’s a whole life out there, and people don’t behave like a fifties sitcom. He never would have come home with her. I’m not giving her up to him. That bastard is not raising my daughter.”
Hunt let out a loud sigh. “Just tell me where you’re aiming for. You’ll get stuck going in circles for hours here if you don’t let me help you.”
“I need to get to West Bolton.”
He scooted forward and appeared to be getting his bearings. “In about five miles you’ll hit tar. Head North. It’s a straight shot and paved, although it’s not the smoothest anymore.”
“Is it a main road? You sending me into a trap?”
“It’s not. I use this road so I can speed getting to Newport. No one ever patrols it.”
She laughed loudly. “I’m supposed to believe you speed.”
“I have a ’78 Challenger. Of course I speed. I just don’t do it in my own town.”
“What’s in Newport?”
“My sister and my niece. I do understand what a parent will do for their kids so don’t sell me short.”
“Don’t try to tell me you’re going to help me.”
“I never said that; I said I understand.”
She was silent for a minute. “How long do we have till West Bolton?”
“About an hour.”
“Let’s play the ‘How long can we ride without talking’ game.”
Hunt waited ten minutes before he said, “Are we there yet?”
“Are you four, for crying out loud?”
“It’s not my job to make your kidnapping of me a pleasant experience.”
“Mission accomplished. Now shut the hell up.” She picked up the gun and tapped it on the Plexiglas wall that separated them, trying to show him she meant business.
As she tapped the Plexiglas, the door moved slightly. He hadn’t fastened it after using it last. Amanda hadn’t made an attempt to fasten it. She hadn’t noticed it. Hunt grinned at his luck. He’d wait for her guard to drop and reach through and gain control of the vehicle again. She wasn’t as smart as she thought. Hunt grinned at his cleverness. Deciding to distract her and not give her an opportunity to see it, he tried to spark up conversation again.
“So what makes you think he’s in West Bolton?”
“I never said he was in West Bolton. I said I needed to head toward West Bolton.”
“He have a fishing cabin up there?”
“And I’d tell you this if he did?”
“There are some gorgeous lakes up there. A friend of mine owns a resort off Sunny Lake.”
“Intrigued. Really.”
“You always such a cold-hearted bitch, or is this a new attitude to go with the kidnapping persona?”
“Careful there, Barney. You used the B-word.”
Hunt waited another few miles. When Mandy’s concentration was elsewhere as she frequently looked between the road and the gauges, he made his move. He thrust his arm through the small window and wrapped his arm around her neck. Amanda screamed and clawed at his arm with one hand while she struggled to steer with the other.
“Let go of me! You’re going to make me crash!”
“Then hit the brakes and we won’t.”
She hit the gas instead of the brake, accepting his challenge, but found it hard to keep control of the car. She let go of his arm for a second to try to snatch the gun, but he stole the opportunity to take hold of her arm and used it to wrap around her own neck. He held it there firmly with his. Amanda gasped for air and tried grabbing at his arm with the hand she was using to steer. The car hit a pothole and jerked hard to the right. It effortlessly went through an old wooden railing and plunged into a small lake.
Amanda screamed and Hunt let go. As soon as the car hit the water, she opened her door. She knew enough to know she wouldn’t be able to if it went under. The open door allowed water to come in that much faster and it began to sink immediately. Almost before she could take a deep breath, the car was under water.
Chapter Seven
The lake wasn’t terribly deep. The car hit the bottom almost as soon as it was completely under water. Amanda swam to Hunt’s door and tried pulling it open. He was franticly kicking at the window, but it was doing no good. She swam back into the front seat and found the gun on the floor. She rushed to Hunt’s door again and motioned to him to back up. He moved as far as he could to the opposite end of the car. She placed the gun on the window and fired.
The shot was slowed down by the water, but it did the trick. The glass remained intact but fractured. Hunt swam over and kicked at the glass with both feet. After two hearty kicks, the glass finally broke free. Amanda waited as Hunt made it through the window, then she swam for the surface.
She let out a loud gasp as she reached fresh air, anxious to fill her lungs. Hunt was just a second behind her. He swam over to her and she panicked. She expected him to be furious and try to take hold of her. But when he reached for her, the look in his eyes was concern.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said as she took another deep breath.
“Nice thinking with the gun. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, I guess. Kidnapping you wasn’t a part of the plan. Killing you certainly wasn’t. Just what the hell were you thinking, you idiot?” She swam for shore and could hear him close behind.
“What was I thinking? I was thinking you’d play it smart and know when someone had the best of you and give up.”
Within a few yards the lake was shallow enough for her to stand. She brought herself to her feet and tromped her way toward shore on the lake’s muddy bottom. “The best of me? I told you I am not stopping until I get my daughter. We’d be there by now if you hadn’t pulled your macho stronghold bullshit!” She made it up to the shore and flopped down onto the grass on her knees. She dropped to her butt then lay down on her back, still trying to catch her breath. That he had tried to be nice to her had thrown her off for a second. Now she was frustrated and pissed even more so at their situation.
Hunt dropped himself next to her. She sat up, suddenly realizing the tables could easily be turned. The gun was stil
l in her hand, but he could have taken it if he tried. She wasn’t about to get in a one-on-one fight with him. She wouldn’t come out victorious; he was too built. She might be able to outrun him, but the ordeal had left her exhausted. Besides, run to where?
“So what now, genius?”
He sat up and looked down the road. Pointing at a small light not too far away he said, “We’ll have to head to that farmhouse and ask for a phone. This is the end of the line for you. You do realize that, right?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Where do you think you’ll get out here? There’s not a town for another twenty minutes. You’re not walking, and I know you’re not thinking about stealing a car.”
“Then you still don’t know me.”
“Are you seriously telling a police officer you intend on stealing a car?”
“I’m not telling you anything.” She got to her feet and walked away.
Quickly catching up to her, he took hold of her arm. “I’m not letting you walk away. Are you insane?”
She shook herself free. “You owe me. I could have let your ass drown.”
“Thanks for reminding me.” He held his hand out. “I’ll take my gun back any time now, sweetheart.”
“Just leave me alone and let me do what I need to do.”
“After you totaled my car and presume to walk away with my gun? Again, I don’t think so.” He grasped her arm again. This time, she pulled the gun out and pointed it at him.
He let go of her and put his hands up, but then he surprised her when he walked toward her so his chest was up against the gun.
“You’re not going to shoot me, Mandy.”
She dropped the gun down and tucked it back into the front of her pants. “I don’t recall telling you it was okay to call me that. As a matter of fact, you don’t need to call me anything. Here’s where we part ways.” She turned again but only got two steps away before he took hold of her arm again. As soon as she spun around, he fastened a handcuff on her wrist.
“What the hell are you doing?” she screamed as he clicked it.
“What do you think I’m doing? It’s what I’ve been doing since we met, besides carrying your unconscious ass to safety.”
“Take it off.” She reached for the gun, but he beat her to it and tucked it in its soaking wet holster.
He attached the other band of the handcuffs to his wrist. “I don’t put it past you to try to take off again, cuffed or not.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“As cancer. Let’s head for that farmhouse and see what we can do from there.”
“You bastard. You know why I’m doing what I’m doing.”
“And I’m going to say again, there are better ways to get it done. A dozen legal things are popping into my head without even trying to think about it.”
“You don’t understand my situation.”
“So make me understand.”
She huffed. “You still wouldn’t understand anyway. Let’s just go.” She turned to walk to the farmhouse, and he kept in step with her.
They walked in silence and were about halfway there before he spoke. “I’m really dying to hear how you think your situation is so damn special. I have been a cop for a long time. If you think I haven’t seen it all—”
She cut him off. “Cop? Don’t you mean law enforcement officer?”
“Quit busting my balls. I could have hog tied your ass in the water, but I chose to give you the benefit of the doubt. I’m surprised you didn’t run for it.”
“I’m desperate, not stupid.”
“I beg to differ there.”
“Do you ever know when to shut up?”
“Apparently not.”
“Gee. I can’t imagine why you’re not married.”
“My choice, princess. Don’t think I’m not having a hard time staying single.”
She laughed. “My God, you keep yourself in high regards, don’t you? Not just as a cop, but now you’re the town stud?”
“I’m saying it’s my choice. You can lay off the stud shit. I’m really not that tough of a guy to get along with.”
“Obviously not with someone you’ve been handcuffed to before.”
“I’ve never had to handcuff myself to someone before. Haven’t had to pull my gun out too many times either—or tackle someone, for that matter. You are a first in more ways than one, I’ll give you that much. How are your ribs by the way?”
Again he surprised her. “I’m fine,” is all she would say. She was feeling sore, but she wasn’t about to let him know it. She didn’t need or want his pity.
Chapter Eight
Hunt and Amanda stood in front of the old farmhouse, disappointed at what it had turned out to be. Instead of a functioning home, it appeared as if had been abandoned for years.
“It doesn’t look too bad. Maybe it still has a phone,” Hunt said.
“That’s a stretch.”
“The service light still works, so that’s a good sign that there is probably electricity anyway. We don’t have anything better to do than to check it out. There’s not another place for miles. You’re starting to shiver. Maybe we’ll be able to start a fire and at least get dry.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, I know. You keep saying that, but your shivering is about rattling my fillings.”
“So un-cuff me.”
“Good one. Come on.” He gave the cuffs a tug as they walked toward the porch stairs.
Hunt knocked, even though he thought it probably wasn’t necessary. He opened the door with no resistance; it wasn’t locked. Hunt called out “hello” as he walked in and waited only a moment before hitting the switch he found beside the door. He was thrilled to find the lights working.
“It doesn’t look as bad inside as it does from the outside,” he said as he scanned the room. There was a couch and a few chairs covered with sheets. There was a heavy amount of dust on a coffee table. “Doesn’t look like anyone has been around for a while, but it looks like they plan on coming back at some point.”
“They didn’t even lock the door.”
“We never locked the door at the house I grew up in. Farm folk are a little more relaxed about that stuff.”
“Even if you’re gone for months or, by the looks of it, years?”
“Probably nothing worth stealing anyway. If someone wants to burn it down, it’s worth more insured than in this condition anyway.” He walked them through to the kitchen and over to an old rotary phone on the wall and picked up the receiver. “No dial tone.”
“Color me surprised.”
Ignoring her, he opened up the refrigerator. It was empty and unplugged. “They really don’t plan on being back for a while. We’re lucky for the lights.” He wandered around until he found the thermostat. He moved the dial up to seventy, but it never kicked on. “Probably have to light the pilot.”
“I said I was fine.”
He sighed. “I know.” They walked into the living room and Hunt saw a fireplace. There was wood in it and a stack along the side. A paper grocery bag was there filled with newspapers. He found a box of matches on the mantle. “I need two hands for this. What are my chances you’ll stay put?”
“You really want me to answer that?”
“That’s what I thought.” He walked them over to the couch and pulled off the sheet. It was a futon couch and had a wooden frame. Hunt unlocked his side of the cuff and told her to sit, then attached it to the armrest.
He got a fire going and turned back to Amanda. “I’m going to go light the hot water heater and furnace.”
“Water heater.”
“Right. And furnace.”
“No. It’s just a water heater, not a hot water heater. Why would you need to heat hot water?”
Again he sighed. “Now you’re an appliance salesman?”
“Salesperson.”
“Is that really what you do?”
She laughed. “No. I suppose if I properly name the engine siz
e in your car, that makes me a mechanic.”
He stood and shook his head. “I’ll go light the water heater. You should be able to take a hot shower in twenty minutes or so.” He didn’t give her time for a response and headed for what appeared to be the basement door. He was back up in a couple of minutes and walked back over to her.
“It was electric and on. Very odd. That’s a big electricity sucker.”
“Why don’t you scold them after telling them we were breaking and entering, officer?”
He had no response for her as he unlocked her handcuff and stood her up then led her to the bathroom. After seeing that there was no escape for her, he opened up the small closet and was glad to see towels. He turned on the water and waited until it ran hot.
“You’re good to go. Get in there and get warmed up.” She stared at him blankly. “Look, Mandy. If you think I’m going to try anything…don’t flatter yourself with such a thought. And don’t even think about coming out and trying to clobber me with anything. We are no longer in a situation that I’m tolerating anymore screwing around. I’ve had it up to here with your shit.” He took a towel for himself off a shelf and slammed the bathroom door closed.
A few minutes later, the water stopped. Hunt gently knocked on the door.
“What?”
“I found a robe. It smells like old people, but it’ll keep you warm till we get your clothes dry. Correction. Until we get the scrubs you stole dry.”
She opened the door and reached her hand out without looking at him, but did say thank you as she pulled it back in.
When Amanda opened up the door, Hunt came walking over to her. He had removed his wet clothes and was wearing a towel, secured around his waist. She swallowed and had to try hard not to stare at his perfect chest. She hated to admit he was handsome. She knew he had a nice body, since he had filled out his uniform so flawlessly. But she had no idea he was this perfectly built, and she hated herself for caring.
“You always walk around your prisoners half naked?”
“I didn’t get as lucky with another robe. Must have been an elderly widow that lived here alone. There are no guy clothes at all. Anything I found beside the robe wouldn’t interest you. You’d look like Omar the tent maker dressed you.”