Into Thin Air

by Karen Leabo

  In the name of speed, Odell grabbed the unconscious girl under the arms and dragged her out of the truck. Marie murmured something incoherent. Oh, Lord, she would wake up soon, Odell thought, and she didn’t have another syringe prepared.

  There was a utility closet just off Odell’s office, with a latch on the outside. That would have to do. She dragged Marie up the porch steps and inside, huffing and puffing all the way. Then it was just a few more feet to the closet. Odell maneuvered her inside the small space, propped her up against the wall, then closed and locked the door.

  That matter taken care of, she took the pillow from Amanda’s room, gave Bella a good sniff of it, then set out on foot. At least it wasn’t terribly cold or wet, she thought as Bella roamed well ahead of her, zigzagging through the trees as she’d been trained.

  Less than half an hour later, Odell heard the familiar baying that indicated Bella had found something. Odell quickened her pace, praying the shepherd hadn’t simply treed a possum. Soon she came upon a small house—no more than a shack, really—with boarded up windows. There was no clear path leading to it, indicating it hadn’t been lived in for many years. Bella stood outside the door, which was hanging by only one hinge, and barked sharply.

  “Good girl, Bella,” Odell said. If the girls had taken shelter here, this would be an easier job than she thought. She opened the door and peered into the dim interior. It took a moment for eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then she saw a huddled form, wrapped in a blanket, in the corner of the room.

  It was Terri, and her eyes were wide with sheer terror.

  “Well, what do we have here?” Odell asked smugly.

  Terri clutched the blanket more closely around her. “What does it look like? I’m having a baby,” she replied with false bravado. “You just keep away from me, you old witch. You aren’t gonna hurt me or my—oh!” Her face contorted with pain.

  “Good Lord, you’re in labor,” Odell said. The realization jolted her.

  “No kidding,” Terri said when she could talk again.

  “Where’s Amanda?”

  “She went to get help. You’ll be in jail by tonight.”

  “That may well be,” Odell agreed pragmatically. “But first things first. We have to get you out of this filthy place. You can’t have a baby here.” No telling what ungodly germs were lurking in this place, ready to infect a defenseless newborn.

  “Try telling the baby th—” Terri was cut off again by another contraction.

  The pains had been only seconds apart, Odell realized. There was no way she could get Terri back to the home and the sanitary delivery room there. The idea of delivering a baby under these conditions appalled Odell, but she didn’t want to frighten Terri more than was necessary.

  “Let’s at least go outside where I can see what I’m doing,” she said, reaching a hand toward Terri. “Come on, you’ll have to stand. I can’t carry you.”

  Terri cringed. “Get away from me! I don’t want you delivering my baby. I can do it myself.”

  “Oh, Terri, now, don’t be silly. I’ve delivered hundreds of babies. I’ve been a midwife for almost thirty years.”

  “You mean you’ve been selling babies and killing the mothers for thirty years.”

  “Killing—what in heaven’s name are you talking about?”

  “I figured it out—ohhhh, dammit, this hurts.”

  Odell ignored the cursing, still reeling from what Terri had said. Did she actually believe Odell would devote herself to saving babies’ lives only to kill the mothers?

  “You take the babies away,” Terri said when the contraction had passed, “and then the mothers disappear. If you let them go free, they’d have turned you in. So you have to kill them. Besides, I saw Henry putting Jennifer into your truck, and she looked like she was dead. He drove her away and we never saw her again.”

  “My, don’t you have an active imagination. No wonder you’ve tried so many times to leave the home. Terri, I can assure you I haven’t killed anyone. After each girl gives birth, she’s given a sedative. Then Henry drives them far away from here and leaves them some place where they’ll be found and returned to their families. And the only reason—don’t fight the pain. Breathe. That’s a girl. The only reason I haven’t been caught is because none of you girls know where the home is located. Think about it. Do you know where we are?”

  “Near some place called River Rock.”

  The correct answer surprised Odell. “And how did you find that out?”

  “Henry told Amanda.”

  “Henry.” Odell shook her head. She’d known that Henry had a soft spot for Amanda, but she had firmly believed that Amanda was too afraid of him to cozy up to him. Who in their right mind wouldn’t be a little afraid of Henry? “Come on, Terri, come with me out of this dirty place. I’ll put my jacket on the ground for you to lie on. We’ve got work to do.”

  “Why are you being so nice to me all a sudden?” Terri asked, her eyes filled with mistrust.

  “Am I so awful to you at other times?”

  “Yeah,” she answered without hesitation.

  Odell couldn’t help smiling. “I guess you would see me as an old witch. But there is something about the birth of a child that brings out the softie in me. When I’m delivering a child, I really feel that I’m traveling the path God has set for me.”

  “Well, you better start traveling, then, ‘cause this kid is here!”

  * * *

  Austin went through the appropriate motions. He’d questioned every employee and customer at the grocery store, none of whom had seen anything of consequence; he’d called for backup to help him comb the neighborhood. Outwardly he was the picture of calm efficiency. But he was running on automatic. Inside he was numb and cold.

  He wished like hell he’d never suggested that Caro go undercover. He wished he hadn’t been so worried about blowing their cover and had gone looking for her the moment the microphone had failed. He even wished he’d never been given this case. Better still, he should be back in Auto Theft. Here he’d been trying to make a big splash, and instead he’d botched everything up and put a colleague in mortal danger.

  Worry for Caro’s welfare consumed him. Was she hurt? What if Odell discovered the body mike? As long as Odell believed Caro to be a pregnant teenager, no harm would come to her. Austin had to believe that. But if Caro’s cover was blown, what then? If Odell had so little regard for life that she dumped a young girl’s body in a lake, could murder be that big of a jump for her?

  If anything happened to Caro...God, he hadn’t realized how much he’d come to care for her until this moment. He wished they hadn’t parted company this morning on such a sour note. The minute he found her, he would make amends for everything—and he would tell her just how he felt. The fact that he might not get that chance pressed at him from all directions.

  No one else seemed to be condemning Austin for the blunder. Even Tony, who was closer to Caro than anyone Austin knew, hadn’t tried to point a finger of blame. Although Tony was obviously troubled by Caro’s disappearance, he was applying himself to the job at hand. In fact, everyone around here was ready to jump in at the slightest provocation. That’s what police officers did when one of their own was in trouble.

  Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to do beyond canvassing the neighborhood around the house to see if anyone had noticed anything out of the ordinary. Caro, like the rest, had vanished into thin air.

  Austin’s phone buzzed. He was on it in an instant.

  “Corporal Lomax, there’s a woman here to see you. Actually, she asked for Caro first, then you. She won’t give her name, but she says it’s important.”

  “I’m coming.”

  He made his way to the public entrance to CAPERS, hoping against hope he was about to get a break. As soon as he opened the metal security door leading into the vestibule he saw her, a petite, attractive blond woman somewhere in her thirties. She had her arms folded and her head bowed, looking very unsure of herself.<
br />
  “Hi, I’m Corporal Lomax,” he said, trying to sound relaxed and friendly when he was feeling just the opposite. “How can I help you?”

  The woman offered her perfectly manicured hand, which shook badly. “I’m Chloe Krill. My neighbor told me you and another officer stopped by the house while my husband and I were out of town. Is...is there a problem?”

  By the looks of her, the woman was terrified. Austin took a chance. “I think you know what the problem is.” When she didn’t reply, he added, “The baby?”

  At that, Chloe burst into noisy tears.

  Ah, hell, this was all he needed. The receptionist wordlessly handed Austin a wad of tissue, which he passed to Chloe. “Come on, now, Mrs. Krill, there’s no need for all this. Everything’s going to work out okay.” He put a comforting arm around her frail shoulders.

  “D-Don’s gonna k-kill me,” she said.

  “He’ll understand,” Austin soothed, though from what he knew of Don, he doubted the man understood anything but his own needs. “He’ll realize you’re just following your conscience. Right?” He led her back through the maze of desks and cubbyholes into his own space, sat her down in his chair and fetched her a cup of water.

  “Don told me the whole story last night,” she said when she’d composed herself. “The adoption wasn’t legal. We bought our baby. Justin’s natural mother was Marcy Phelps, that girl they pulled out of the lake. She died in childbirth.”

  Austin could take little enjoyment in having his and Caro’s theory confirmed. “I know this is very difficult for you,” he said. “I appreciate your coming forward, and I assure you I’ll do everything I can to protect you from criminal charges—”

  “I don’t care about criminal charges!” she said passionately. “I just want to keep my baby. What if Marcy’s family tries to take Justin away from us?”

  “I doubt it will come to that,” Austin said, more because he needed to calm Chloe down than anything. “No matter what the consequences are, the fact that you came forward will weigh in your favor. But right now I need more information from you. I don’t have time to explain the whole situation, but there are lives hanging in the balance. Who sold the baby to you?”

  “Our lawyer, Travis Beaman, handled it for us,” she said. “When Don found out Travis had declared bankruptcy and then fled the country, he got really nervous. That’s when I insisted he tell me everything. He had no idea I planned to go straight to the police.”

  “Mrs. Krill...”

  “The woman who sold us the baby is Travis’s sister, Odell Beaman. She lives in east Texas somewhere, I think. She runs a home for unwed mothers.”

  Finally! A first and last name. Austin wrote down the name, already mentally making a list of the next few steps he could now take. “Do you know anything else about her? Her age, what kind of car she drives? Do you have a phone number, anything?”

  Chloe shook her head helplessly. “We never actually met her.”

  Austin smiled, anyway. He asked a few more routine questions, but it seemed that Mrs. Krill had related everything she knew. “That’s okay, this will help tremendously. I can’t thank you enough, Mrs. Krill,” he said as he escorted her to the exit.

  “You’re not going to arrest me?”

  Even if he’d had time, he didn’t have the heart. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Go home, now, and try not to worry. Someone will be getting in touch with you.”

  She gave him a watery smile, then turned and walked away.

  Austin literally sprinted back to his desk and got on the phone with the Department of Motor Vehicles. Unfortunately there was no driver’s license on file, but Odell Beaman did have a vehicle registered. Within minutes he had her license plate number and a description of her car—a white Suburban. Unfortunately, the address on file was that of her brother. Travis Beaman’s house had already been checked out. It was empty.

  He immediately put out an APB. He was just hanging up when Tony approached his desk, looking very agitated.

  “Phone company security just called,” he said, slapping a piece of paper onto the desktop. “Our friend Odell blew it. She made a phone call to the answering service without doing whatever it is she normally does to cover her tracks. She was using a cellular phone, but they’ve narrowed it down to a half-mile radius. The repeater that transmitted the call is located near River Rock.”

  River Rock—of course. Justin Krill’s place of birth, as indicated on his birth certificate. “Great,” Austin said. “Get on the phone and see if you can rouse some law enforcement authorities there.” He related the information he’d just gotten from Chloe Krill. “See if you can pinpoint an address. Go through the utility companies. She has to use electricity.” As he issued orders, he fished through his desk for a road atlas.

  “I’ll get right on it,” Tony said. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m heading east. Tell the locals I’m coming, and update me the minute you find out anything. I’ll probably need backup. Hell, call in the FBI and let them take over. I just want to make sure this thing’s done right from now on.”

  Chapter 17

  Caro awoke slowly, disoriented. Her stomach clenched with nausea, and she was glad she hadn’t eaten breakfast. Breakfast...shredded wheat. She’d gone to the grocery store.... It came back to her all at once, and she tasted fear sharp and bitter on her tongue. Something had gone terribly wrong, and Odell had taken her hostage.

  Stay calm, she told herself, tamping down the urge to scream. Okay, so she’d been drugged and stashed someplace small and dark with her hands tied behind her back. At least she wasn’t dead, or seriously injured. And her wits were slowly returning as the fear receded. Apparently the cavalry wasn’t coming to the rescue. It was up to Caro to escape.

  “Safe as a babe in arms, my Aunt Fanny,” she grumbled, recalling Austin’s assurances. When she saw him she would punch his lights out. Holding that pleasant thought in her mind, she focused her attention on getting herself free.

  With a little effort she managed to maneuver to her feet, although she was still dizzy from whatever drug Odell had given her. She leaned against the wall as another wave of nausea washed over her. When it passed, she began inching her way to the left. Two baby-steps later she encountered a row of shelves. A few steps to the right were more shelves. There was a door in front of her, which appeared to be the only exit. She could see a thin line of light beneath it.

  She turned her back to it and explored with her bound hands, but she couldn’t find a knob or latch of any kind. Okay, I’ll try something else. She stepped back, took a deep breath, then threw her weight against the door, shoulder first. Pain shot all the way down her arm, but the door didn’t budge.

  “Hmm, not like in the movies,” she murmured. She would break bones long before the door gave way.

  If she could just get her hands untied! But her bonds were tight, and she couldn’t reach the knots. Maybe there was something in this closet she could use to cut the cords. With her back to the shelves she felt around, locating a ball of twine, masking tape, a hammer, an open package of ball-point pens—but no scissors or hacksaw or utility knife.

  She fumbled around some more, chancing on a box of some sort. Curious, she pushed and pulled at it until she got it open. Matches! Maybe she could burn through the cord around her wrists. Then again, maybe she could burn down the whole building. But she had to risk it. What other choice did she have?

  In such an awkward position, she had a hard time just figuring out how to strike one of the matches. That accomplished, it took several tries to turn the match so that the flame even came near the cords.

  “Come on, come on.” The heat grew too intense and she let go of the match. Then she smelled an odd acrid stench and realized her sweater was on fire. “Ouch! Dammit, dammit, dammit!” She dropped the box and backed up against the wall, smothering the flames—but not before she burned her hands and her back.

  For a few moments, the pain blocked out all other c
onscious thought. Then she felt a kind of numbness taking over—probably her endorphins kicking in. She wondered how badly she’d injured herself.

  There was nothing to do but try again. She squatted down and retrieved the matches, gritted her teeth against the pain, and struck another one. Finally, when she was about to run out of matches, not to mention choke from all the smoke she’d generated, the ties gave way and her hands were abruptly freed.

  She felt around on her body, frantically searching for any burning embers she might have missed. When she’d assured herself that nothing else was on fire, she automatically checked the antenna wire on the body mike. It was disconnected, and it might have been that way since the grocery store. No wonder Austin hadn’t rushed to the rescue—he’d never heard her give the signal. All right, so she wouldn’t punch him when she saw him. Suddenly she wanted to see him, to touch him, to let him comfort her—

  There was no time to feel sorry for herself. She had to get this closet door open before Odell returned.

  With her increased mobility she was able to explore the higher shelves. Miracle of miracles, she found a flashlight that worked. She waved the beam frantically around the closet, trying to banish the darkness. And there, right in front of her face, was a pair of scissors. She wished she’d found them before she’d roasted herself.

  The door indeed had no knob or handle on the inside. But by peering through the cracks at the light from outside, she could see where the outside latch was located. It should be simple, she told herself. Most likely a junk closet wouldn’t have a sophisticated lock.

  She didn’t have a credit card, but perhaps the stiff plastic from the package of pens would do the trick. She worked the plastic free of the cardboard, dumping the pens on the floor. With the scissors she cut out a flat piece, the task made more difficult by the fact that her left hand didn’t seem to work very efficiently. She knew then that her burns were more severe than she’d thought.