“I don’t get it. I’m sorry she had to go through something like that—you, too—but what does that have to do with anything?” she asked, her brow furrowed deeply.
“Last month, I checked the address. The company belongs to Dewey Fitzroy, Sam’s father. She thinks I don’t know about what happened, but I’m not a little kid anymore, and I have an excellent memory. When Mr. Snow moved to Cedar Grove, he came over to the house. He and my dad were friends at one time. Mom was upset about that, but he asked her to let him help her. Maybe that’s why he spent so much time with me. I mentioned all this to him last week, and he told me he was handling it, but now that his wife has left him, he isn’t any better off than we are.”
“That’s why you needed the scholarship.” The truth dawned on her. “Your mother can’t afford to send you to college.”
He nodded. “But I didn’t have anything to do with Liam’s accident. I might talk a good show, but that’s not the way I wanted to win. With him in that chair, I’ll never know if I could’ve beaten him. Winning like this is like kissing your sister—no fun at all. Is that why Erik wanted to talk to the coach? He still believes I was behind the accident?”
“Not you directly, Malcolm, but someone wanted Liam out of the way, and it looks as if the coach had the means and the opportunity. I don’t want to believe it either, but Mina and I know what we saw. Erik walked down that driveway and vanished. One of the guys from Ivy Hills who’s helping Erik thinks this might have to do with gambling—you know betting on school sports and changing the odds.”
Malcolm’s jaw dropped open in surprise. “You’re joking, right?”
She shook her head.
“Well, you’re wrong. Coach doesn’t gamble at all, and he’s constantly warning me about the dangers involved. Hell, the man won’t even buy raffle tickets.”
“Hannah,” Mari’s cry interrupted her. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, and she was out of breath.
“What’s wrong, Mari?”
“You have to come with me,” she said, ignoring Malcolm. “You have to come now.” She pulled on Hannah’s arm.
“Slow down there, cupcake. What’s the rush?” Malcolm asked, reverting to his obnoxious macho behavior, something Hannah realized was actually a defense mechanism.
“Nothing that concerns you,” Mari said angrily. “Hannah, you have to come now.”
“I’m sorry, Malcolm. I’ll think about what you said and mention it to Liam. Maybe we can finish this another time,” Hannah offered, turning toward Mari who looked fit to be tied—angry and upset—desperate to get Hannah to come with her.
“Is this about your brother?” Malcom asked. “I know you two have this psychic connection. Do you know where he is?”
Mari’s eyes were the size of saucers as she looked around for a way to escape, refusing to release Hannah’s hand.
“Listen to me. I’m not the bad guy here. If you know where Erik is, maybe I can help. He could be hurt ... and you might need assistance getting him out of wherever he is. We should probably call the police. The chief was pretty specific about not playing hero, but—”
“No buts,” Mari said, cutting him off, tears running down her cheeks. “There isn’t any time and all the chief would do was ask a zillion questions—questions I can’t answer even if I wanted to. Erik’s sick, really sick, and he’s reaching out to me. I’m afraid he’s dying.”
“Then we have to tell the police where he is,” Hannah pleaded.
“I can’t,” Mari wailed. “I don’t know where he is, and he doesn’t know either. I have an idea of his general direction—he’s northwest of here. I’m sure as I get closer to him, the images will be stronger. Mom says the police have an APB out on Coach Snow. Why would he have done this to my brother?”
“I don’t know,” Hannah admitted. “I wish I did. If I knew what was going through the man’s mind, I might’ve spared Liam his agony, too.”
“I may not know everything either, but I can guarantee Coach Snow isn’t to blame for this. Mom talked to him late Friday night. He was supposed to come to dinner on Saturday, but he never showed. All the calls she’s made go to his voicemail. She called the police this morning to report him missing. Unfortunately, they saw it as an admission of guilt. Everyone believes he’s responsible for Erik’s disappearance, and it’s up to me to prove he isn’t. So, what do you know?” Malcolm asked, his voice firm and yet soft, as he touched Mari gently on the shoulder.
“I know he’s nearby, but I don’t recognize the images he sends me. He’s cold, but on fire at the same time, and it’s dark and damp where he is. There’s someone else there with him, but they can’t help him. They might be dead or injured.”
“It could be the coach. Maybe whoever has Erik has him, too.”
Hannah sucked in a breath. “Why would they take him?”
“I told you he was looking into things, too. Maybe he found something he shouldn’t have.”
“That makes sense.” Hannah chewed her lower lip, wishing Liam could be here. She always felt braver when he was around. His determination to survive and get better empowered her.
“I had an idea earlier,” she said rashly, hoping she wasn’t leading them all on a wild goose chase. “If I wanted to stash someone or something, I’d take them to the old logging camp.”
Malcolm furrowed his brow. “The one that used to belong to Pinehurst Industries?”
“Yeah. The place has no heat or power, but it could be used to hide something. There are still a couple of buildings standing.”
“My father claimed to sell that land a dozen times over,” he said bitterly. “Just about everyone has done their best to forget about the place. You’re right. It would be the ideal location to hide someone.”
“There you are,” Mina stated, coming around the corner of the hall, frustration loud in her tone. “Mari, I thought you were desperate to get going. What are you doing talking to him?”
“Nice to see you, too,” Malcolm answered. “Mari thinks she knows where Erik is.”
“And she told you? “The disbelief in Mina’s voice was palpable.
“Look, why don’t we bury the hatchet for now—preferably not in my back—and go have a look at the logging camp? They may not be there, but it’s a place to start.”
Mina frowned. “They?”
“That’s where I think Erik might be,” Hannah said. “And Malcolm thinks the coach might be there, too.”
“The coach is holding Erik prisoner there? Why?”
“Not holding him prisoner, Mina, but a captive himself. We’ll explain on the way.”
“How could the coach be a hostage, too?” Mina asked, stubbornly refusing to give ground.
“It’s complicated,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think it has something to do with my dad.”
“Your dad?” Her voice rose several octaves. “Fine.” Mina threw up her hands in surrender. “If Hannah buys into this theory, it must have something to it, but how and when would they have gotten there? It’s a good twenty miles away.”
“By road, yes, but you could get there pretty fast in a boat.”
“So he did have Erik in the house,” she exclaimed.
“I don’t know. We weren’t there all night. Someone could’ve come to the house,” Hannah added.
“Okay, but it’s his vehicle, not his boat that’s missing,” Mina stated stubbornly.
“Easy enough to take them by boat, return to the house, and then drive off again in the SUV.”
Mina shook her head. “Mari, do you buy this?”
Mari nodded. “I’ve been concentrating on the conversation, trying to send my thoughts to Erik. I get the sense he agrees with me, but the urgency I mentioned is stronger than ever.”
“What are we going to do?” Mina asked, ringing her hands. “Going up there is exactly the kind of thing we were told not to do.”
“Either way, we have to move now. We can’t wai
t any longer,” Mari said. “I didn’t dare mention this to Mom and Dad. They’re too upset as it is, and since I’m not sure we’ll find him ... If he isn’t at that logging place, can you think of somewhere else he could be?”
Just about any closed up boathouse on the lake.
Hannah sighed, keeping that thought to herself. No point in upsetting Mari.
“Think positive. To me, the logging camp or sawmill right beside it are the best places I can think of.”
“Get your coats. Standing around talking about this won’t make it get any better,” Malcom said. “Mina, leave your car here since I can take us all in my truck. With the potential for more snow, it’ll be dark soon.”
“You do realize if we aren’t home on time, my mother will go crazy?” Mina asked.
“You can wait in the car. If we do find Erik, we may need extra help, and it we don’t, well you’ll be there to call in reinforcements,” Malcolm stated. “That way your mother may not be as angry. Going deep into the bush at this time of day might not be the smartest move.”
“All for one, and one for all,” Hannah stated raising her right hand in the air.
The others repeated the famous Three Musketeers oath and scattered to get what they needed from their lockers. They had a couple of hours of daylight at best, and it would take at least three-quarters of an hour to get to the old Pinehurst Industries location. If they were wrong, then heaven help both Erik and Coach Snow.
Hurrying to get her coat and boots, Hannah refused to listen to her conscience. She could be walking into trouble, but if she had a chance to rescue Erik and make this right, she would. Given their history, asking Malcolm for help seemed odd, but then again, stranger things had happened.
“I’ll be right back, she said to Mina. “I have to—you know.”
Hurrying into the bathroom, Hannah took care of business, and then dialed Liam’s number. He didn’t answer, but then during the week, this was usually the time Larry came for his physio. Liam’s voicemail kicked in.
“Hi Liam, it’s me. I’m sure you’re busy with Larry right now, but I want you to know we may have a break, and believe it or not, Malcolm’s helping us. We think we may have a line on Erik’s whereabouts. Mari, Mina, Malcolm, and I are going to check something out. We’re going over to have a look at Pinehurst Industries. Believe it or not the coach may have been taken, too. Call you again when I know something. Bye.”
She ended the call and hurried out to the waiting car.
* * * *
Liam sat back in the chair, exhausted by today’s workout, but feeling better than yesterday about his progress. With his legs, he pushed more than two hundred and fifty pounds, way more than he weighed, which meant the muscles were as strong as they’d ever been. Afterwards, he stood for almost a full minute. His balance sucked, and he was terrified he would fall, but he’d done it. Now, all he had to do was convince his brain of that fact.
“Great workout today, kid. I realize you’re still worried about your friend, but believe me, it’s all over the news. They will find him. Do you want to shower now or wait until later?” Larry asked.
“Give me a minute. That call you heard earlier was Hannah. I want to hear what she has to say.”
He reached for his cellphone and retrieved the message, feeling fear pool in his stomach with every word she spoke.
He checked the time of the message and the clock on the wall. The message had come in at the very beginning of his session, well over an hour ago. He redialed her number, his heart pounding in his chest. No answer. Her voicemail kicked in.
“Hannah call me as soon as you get this.”
Larry came into the room. “What’s wrong? You’re as white as a ghost.”
“Hannah’s in danger. I know she is. Larry, we have to go there. We have to find her.”
“Slow down, buddy. Go where?”
Liam ran his hands through his hair. “I’m not sure. She’s gone to the old Pinehurst Industries site looking for Erik.”
“Alone?” The shock on Larry’s face mimicked his own.
“No. She’s with Mina, Mari, and Malcolm, but I don’t trust him. He could be leading her into a trap. She and Mina know everything I do about my accident. If he’s involved...”
Larry cursed, the violence in the word surprising him.
“I don’t suppose they called the police?” he asked
Liam shook his head. “They should’ve but judging from her message, I doubt it.”
“Then let’s get you coat and get out there. Did you phone her?”
“Yeah, but she isn’t picking up.” His anxiety was rising by the second. If he’d been wearing that heart monitor, it would’ve sounded his alarm for all to hear. “Mom isn’t home yet, and Dad’s out in the far field mending fences. I can’t stay here and do nothing. The keys to the van are on the hook. You have to take me there.”
“Calm down, Liam. I don’t want to see those kids hurt any more than you do. Can you call someone with her? Maybe her phone ran out of power,” he offered.
From the look on his therapist’s face, Larry was as worried as he was.
“I can try Mina.” He reached for his phone and punched in the number, relieved when she answered on the first ring.
“Hello?” she answered hesitantly. He sensed her fear.
“Mina, it’s Liam. I’ve been trying to call Hannah, and I can’t get an answer. She left me a message. Are you with her? Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know,” she wailed. “They should’ve been back by now.”
“What do you mean back?” the words caught in his throat.
“The others went into the woods and left me here to wait for them, but they’ve been gone more than half an hour, and no one answers my calls either.”
“Where are you?” he asked, suddenly calm.
“About fifty yards before the main entrance road. They went in on foot.”
“Call the police. We’re on our way.”
Chapter Fourteen
Hannah scanned the interior of the sawmill. Thanks to the halogen lantern on the floor near Erik, she could see clearly, but sincerely wished she couldn’t. Of all the bone-headed things she’d ever done, this was by far the worst. Coach Snow lay in a pool of his own blood. He’d been shot in the chest, and she didn’t know if he was alive. She wasn’t close enough to tell. Guilt ate at her for believing he could’ve been involved in something this terrible. He’d always been a tough but fair coach.
Propped up against one of the sawmill’s old, rotten pillars, wearing only her cotton T-shirt and jeans, since they’d forced her and Mari to remove all of their warm clothing, she shivered,. Her hands and bare feet were tied with plastic bindings, and since she couldn’t really move either of them, they were already numb with cold. Even if she could stand, she doubted her legs and feet would support her.
No wonder Liam was short-tempered at times. Feeling powerless like this destroyed one’s sense of control.
But he doesn’t have a gorilla pointing a gun at him to make things worse.
The inside of the old wooden building had to be as cold and damp as outside and smelled of mold, decay, blood, and feces—not a pleasant combination. Her stomach roiled. Every now and then, she heard scurrying sounds and prayed whatever was making them would stay far away.
Mari was ten feet away from her sitting with her brother. She’d pulled Erik into her arms, no doubt trying to share body heat. Like them, he wasn’t wearing boots or a coat and was unnaturally pale. He was breathing—she could see his chest move as he labored at the task. While they’d tied Mari’s legs together, they hadn’t bound her arms, no doubt realizing she wasn’t a flight risk. She would never try to leave without her twin.
Hannah glanced at Malcolm, still wearing his boots and coat. He lay prone on the floor about two feet away from her. The man who’d had hit him on the head had done so hard enough to crack his skull. No doubt he had a concussion since he’d been unconscious ever since, and that had
to be at least half an hour ago.
There were three men inside the sawmill with them. The one holding the gun could pass for one of Hagrid’s relatives if such existed. Another almost as large was the one who’d struck Malcolm. She couldn’t see him, but she could hear the argument going on between the man in charge and goon number two.
She glanced down at her watch, praying Mina had called for help. Leaving her in the car had been the only smart thing they’d done. At least she hoped so—what if there were a fourth man out there?
Malcolm groaned, and Hannah turned to him once more.
“Malcolm, wake up.” she whispered loudly, not wanting to attract the gunman’s attention, but he seemed occupied doing something behind them. She could hear dragging and scraping sounds.
“What happened?” he asked, slowly rolling onto his side. He groaned. “My head feels like it’s going to explode.” He raised his hand to his head, and his fingers came away bloody.
“You’re awake.” The goon with the gun stepped over to them once more. “Jackthon,” he called, his lisp strong. “Your kid’th awake.”
The man’s lisp set off alarms in Hannah’s head. She tried to see his feet, but he wasn’t standing close enough. Could this be the man who’d struck Liam? His words repeated themselves in her head ... Jackson, your kid. The man in charge was Jackson’s father? But he was in jail. Hadn’t Liam’s mother said so?
Heavy footsteps moved toward them and stopped. The man dressed in jeans and a plaid jacket was tall, heavily bearded, and thin. She didn’t recognize him, but there was no mistaking the eyes looking down at them. They were the same clear blue as Malcolm’s.
Prove It! Page 18