Stranded

by Debby Giusti

  Lord, forgive me for being too haughty, too proud to realize I needed you. The injury and illness opened my eyes to what’s important in life, and it isn’t good looks or brains and brawn. It’s you, Lord. I need you.

  His heavy heart weighed him down. He needed Colleen, but not if she was mixed up with drug dealers and trafficking.

  Help me see clearly, Lord.

  All through the night, Frank sat on his bed and prayed for strength. He’d give himself more time to heal, but he needed clear vision about Colleen.

  Was she holding on to things in the past with her sister? Frank realized he was doing the same thing. Audrey was then. Colleen was now.

  Opening the drawer on his nightstand, he pulled out a photograph and looked down at the woman with blond hair and blue eyes he had once thought he loved.

  He’d been wrong.

  True love wasn’t about good looks and good times, and it wasn’t easy. It could hurt and get twisted and tied up with other events and other people.

  Love was painful. It was now.

  He dropped Audrey’s photo on his dresser and left the house before Colleen got up. He wanted Duke back at his side, and he wanted to stop by CID Headquarters and review the photos again.

  He wouldn’t lose Colleen without a fight. Colby had his opinion, but Frank didn’t buy it. He believed in Colleen, even if she didn’t think he did.

  TWENTY

  Colleen woke with a pounding headache probably brought on by all the tears she’d shed. After getting dressed, she tidied the room and packed her carry-on bag.

  She met Evelyn in the kitchen. “I’m heading to the hospital early. Ron thinks he might be released by noon. I want to talk to the doctors when they make their rounds.”

  Colleen poured a mug of coffee. “Thanks for all you’ve done for me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your kindness.”

  Evelyn tilted her head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were saying goodbye.”

  “I need to get back to Atlanta. I’d taken a leave of absence from my job. I have to tell them to put me back on the schedule.”

  “I’m sure Frank will drive you to Atlanta.” She smiled. “Something tells me he’ll be making quite a few trips into the city in the days ahead.”

  For all her thoughtfulness, Evelyn didn’t realize what had happened last night. Colleen wouldn’t tell her.

  “I doubt he’ll have any spare time once he returns to work. You mentioned a bus station in Freemont.”

  “The number’s in the phone book.” She pointed. “First drawer next to the fridge, but I’m sure Frank will find a way to take you himself. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Colleen. You know Frank and I both enjoy having you here with us.”

  Evelyn’s sincerity touched Colleen. Tears welled up in her eyes. To hide her emotions that seemed so raw this morning, she peered from the window and looked down into the valley.

  “The Amish have rebuilt so much, so quickly.”

  “I’m glad to see it. They help one another and come together as a community.”

  “The whole town did. It’s been encouraging to see.”

  “I guess you weren’t raised in a small town.”

  Colleen shook her head. “We lived in Savannah and moved to Atlanta soon after my sister was born.”

  “Small towns take care of their own. From what Frank says, the military is the same way. Maybe even more so since they’re often far from family and home.”

  Family. The word brought another lump to Colleen’s throat.

  “You’ve made me feel part of your family, Evelyn. Thank you.”

  “Why wouldn’t we?” She wrapped her arms around Colleen and gave her a hug. “All this talk has me upset, thinking about you leaving.”

  She pulled back and laughed as she reached for her purse. “I’ll expect to see you this evening. I’ll bake chicken and have some fresh vegetables. Ron might join us if he feels up to it.”

  Colleen stood at the door and waved when Evelyn backed out of the drive. Once the car disappeared from sight, Colleen returned to the kitchen and pulled the phone book from the drawer. After finding the number for the bus station, she called and got an automated recording that listed the arrivals and departures. A bus left for Atlanta at ten this morning.

  Unsure how long it would take to get to the station, Colleen called for a cab. Returning to her room, she grabbed her carry-on and placed it by the door so she’d be ready when the ride arrived.

  Turning, she glanced over the house. So much had happened here. She needed to accept the good along with the bad.

  She wanted to retrace the steps she’d taken yesterday so broken doors and blood spatters wouldn’t be her last memories of the home. Entering Frank’s room, she inhaled the lingering scent of his aftershave and had to close her eyes to keep the tears at bay when she thought of being in his arms.

  Peering into the bathroom, she appreciated Zack’s workmanship and all that had been done to remove any trace of the tragedy that had unfolded here.

  Now Colleen could move on and remember the room as it should be remembered. Leaving the bathroom, she noticed a photo on the dresser.

  The picture was of a beautiful blonde with big eyes and an engaging smile that was sure to melt the hardest heart. Curious, Colleen turned the photo over.

  To my wonderful Frank. I’ll always love you, Audrey.

  Colleen dropped the photo and hurried from the room. Frank still loved Audrey. Colleen had been so wrong about everything. He had never wanted anything from her except information.

  She hoped he and Audrey could get together again. That would make Frank happy, which is what Colleen wanted for him.

  A knock sounded at the front door.

  She glanced at her watch. The cab was twenty minutes early. At least she’d get to the bus station ahead of schedule.

  She hurried to the foyer and opened the door.

  A man. T-shirt. Baseball cap. Not the cabbie.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. I’m Steve Nelson.”

  Frank had mentioned his name. “You’re with the construction company here to help with the relief effort.”

  “That’s right.” He smiled. “I’m having problems with my cell phone and need to call the mayor’s office downtown. We’re scheduled to do some demolition today. I was driving by your house when I realized my problem and thought you might be able to help.”

  “Of course, come in. But it’s not my house. I’m just visiting.”

  He wiped his feet on the doormat and pointed to her carry-on bag as he followed her to the kitchen. “Looks like you’re going someplace.”

  She nodded. “The bus station.”

  “I’m headed downtown. Let me give you a lift.”

  “I’ve already called a cab.”

  “Easy enough to cancel.”

  He motioned her to the phone.

  She waved him off. “No, you go ahead. Call the mayor.”

  Grabbing her cell, she checked the coverage. “I’m not having any trouble with my cell reception.” Which didn’t make sense.

  “Really?” He stepped closer. Too close.

  Colleen tried to move aside.

  He grabbed her arm. “Where’s the memory card? Trey said you have it.”

  “Let me go.” She struggled to free herself.

  “Trey said you sent a picture to the cops, only it wasn’t his operation. It was mine. I need to destroy the memory card.”

  “You’ll never find it.”

  His grip tightened on her arm. She clawed at his cheek and screamed for help.

  The guy pulled a gun. She tried to back away.

  “Tell me or you’ll die.”

  “You’ll go to jail.” Colleen had never seen the pho
tos on the memory card, but she needed something to hold over his head. “Trey took pictures of you that prove your guilt.”

  Rage twisted his face. “I don’t want to hear anything about Trey.”

  “He outsmarted you,” she pressed.

  “Shut up.” He raised the gun and slammed it against her head.

  She gasped with pain.

  Darkness settled over her.

  Colleen’s last thought was of Frank.

  TWENTY-ONE

  “He had a good night,” the vet said when Frank arrived at the clinic.

  Duke licked his hand. “I missed you, boy. How’s the leg?”

  “The wound’s healing.” The vet handed Frank ointment. “Change the dressing daily and apply more ointment. If it starts to bleed or looks infected, bring him back. Otherwise Duke should be feeling like his old self in seven to ten days.”

  Frank still didn’t feel like his old self, but he appreciated the vet’s help, and having Duke by his side made the overcast day seem less gray.

  Opening the passenger door, he smiled as the dog hopped into the truck seemingly without effort. “You’re going to be chasing squirrels again before long. I’ll have to hold you back.”

  Duke barked. Frank laughed and rounded the car.

  “If you don’t mind, I want to stop at CID Headquarters and look at some pictures.”

  The drive across post took fewer than ten minutes. Colby’s car was in the parking lot.

  “I need to see those photos,” Frank said as he entered Colby’s cubicle.

  “Hey there, Duke.” Colby scratched the dog’s scruff. Then he stood and motioned Frank to take his place at the computer.

  “Have at it. I’m getting a refill of coffee. Can I get a cup for you?”

  “Sounds good. Black.”

  Frank started scrolling through the photos and stopped when he saw the one Colleen had sent to the police. He enhanced the picture until he could read the name tag on the camera case sitting next to the shrink-wrapped bricks. Howard.

  Colby came back, carrying two cups. He handed one to Frank.

  “Colleen was right about the camera case.” He pointed to the monitor. “Looks like it may have belonged to Trey.”

  “Lots of people are named Howard.”

  Colby’s outlook hadn’t improved.

  “Has anyone questioned Vivian?” Frank took a slug of the coffee.

  “Not yet. The doctor wants to wait another day or two before he weans her off the ventilator.”

  “And her husband?”

  “Faithfully sitting at her bedside.”

  Frank continued to scroll through the photos, searching for anything that would incriminate the dealers and shed more light on Colleen’s innocence.

  Colby leaned over his shoulder and sipped his coffee. The process was slow and monotonous.

  Many of the shots showed the Colombian resort after its completion. Trey had taken pictures for the travel brochures and advertisements that drew tourists from all over the world. The property was top of the line.

  An army wife like Vivian with a deployed husband could easily be swayed by Trey’s talk of a modeling career, especially when he included an all-expenses-paid vacation to such a plush resort.

  A number of photos showed parties in full swing. Groups of people mixed and mingled, many sipping cocktails. The men were a diverse group. Some wore sport coats; others were in polo shirts and slacks. Attractive women mingled with them, serving drinks and hanging on their arms. Colleen stood to the side, looking very much alone.

  Frank’s heart went out to her. She hadn’t been part of the drug operation. Colleen was an outsider trying to fit in—and failing, in Frank’s opinion. It was a wonder Trey hadn’t seen through her charade. Determined to bring down the man who had hooked her sister on drugs, Colleen had put herself in danger. Just as she’d told Frank from the beginning, she needed evidence and she found it by infiltrating a large and corrupt drug-trafficking operation.

  Frank had to apologize to her for the way he’d acted. She deserved a medal instead of chastisement.

  Colby looked at his watch and patted Frank’s shoulder. “You keep searching. I’ve got to be at Post Headquarters in fifteen minutes for a meeting with the chief of staff about the reconstruction. The Freemont mayor will be there to talk about their efforts. The last project is the warehouse demolition by the river.”

  Frank waved his hand in farewell and glanced down at Duke once Colby had left the room. “Time for us to get going, boy. I need to talk to Colleen and apologize for my actions.”

  Even with Trey dead, Colleen still needed to be careful, especially if the photos ever got out. Just as she had said, the pictures had served as protection for Trey in case anyone tried to do him harm, but Colleen was front and center. Not a safe place to be.

  Frank needed to warn her.

  Duke lay his head on Frank’s knee, blocking the chair. “What is it, boy? Not ready to leave yet? You like being back at work?”

  He chuckled and reached for the mouse. “A few more minutes here won’t hurt.”

  The next section of photos showed the beginning construction effort for the resort. A large sign announced the groundbreaking for La Porta Verde.

  Three men stood in front of the sign. A short man with dark skin appeared to be the local contact. Another man, dressed in a flowery Hawaiian shirt, held a stack of papers and must have been part of the initial building project.

  A third man shook the Colombian’s hand. He was standing to the side, his face in profile. In the distance, a backhoe was poised, ready to break ground.

  Frank zoomed in. His gut tightened.

  The man in profile was Steve Nelson, the head of the company helping with Freemont’s reconstruction.

  Frank grabbed his cell and called Evelyn’s house.

  His sister answered.

  “I thought you’d be at the hospital.”

  “I just got home. Ron’s tests came back. The doctor said it was an electrolyte imbalance and released him. I dropped him off at his place and came home to check on Colleen.”

  “Let me speak to her.”

  “That’s the strange thing, Frank.”

  He jammed the phone closer to his ear.

  “A cab was waiting out front when I pulled up. He said someone needed a ride to the bus station in town.”

  Colleen was leaving?

  “I have to talk to her.”

  “She’s not here.”

  Frank pushed back from the desk, raced from the cubicle and out the rear door that led to the parking lot. Duke ran beside him.

  “I’m on my way to the bus station. If Colleen calls, convince her not to leave town, and tell her she’s still in danger.”

  “You’re scaring me, Frank. What’s going on?”

  “I’ll tell you once I find Colleen. What time does the bus leave for Atlanta?”

  “Give me a minute to check.”

  Frank didn’t have a minute. He was at his truck. Duke hopped in through the driver’s side.

  “The bus departs in twenty minutes, but there’s something else you need to know.”

  Climbing behind the wheel, Frank started the ignition. “What is it, Evelyn?”

  “Colleen left her carry-on bag by the front door. Her things are strewn all over the floor.”

  * * *

  Pain!

  Colleen thrashed, trying to escape the burning fire that seared through her head. She moaned, then blinked her eyes open and stared into the damp dimness.

  A small room. Table.

  She struggled to sit up, realizing too late her hands and feet were bound. A wave of nausea washed over her and sent her crashing back to the musty mattress and pile of rags.

&
nbsp; The faint light filtering through the open doorway caused another jolt of pain. She shut her eyes and groaned.

  “Coming around?”

  A deep voice.

  Frank?

  She blinked again. Not Frank.

  The construction boss. What was his name? Steve. Steve Nelson. Bile rose in her throat as she remembered his attack. “Where...where am I?”

  “Someplace safe. At least for now. Where’s the memory card?”

  “Gone...in the storm.”

  He bent down, his face inches from hers. His sour sweat and stale breath made her want to gag.

  “You only have a few minutes to tell me the truth.”

  “What...what happens then?”

  “Poof!” He threw his hands in the air. “An explosion brings down the building. Tell me about the memory card or you’ll die in the blast.”

  “You’re worried. Trey took incriminating photos of you, along with the other dealers.” At least she presumed he had.

  Steve’s eyes widened with fury. “I brought Trey into the operation, but he got greedy and started running his own girls. If the cops hadn’t killed him, I would have. They saved me the trouble.”

  “You’re despicable. Trey hooked my sister, Briana, on drugs that caused her to overdose. You’re responsible, too.”

  His lips twisted into a maniacal smile. “Briana wanted out. She went to the cops and told them about Trey. Only one of the cops needed money and passed the information on to me.”

  Colleen gasped. “You killed my sister.”

  “She forced my hand. I had to kill her. Just like I have to kill you because you know too much.”

  “The police have the memory card from Trey’s camera. They’ll find you and everyone else in your operation. You’re finished, Steve.”

  He shook his head. “I can move to Colombia.”

  “They’ll extradite you back to the States, where you’ll spend the rest of your life in jail.”

  He stepped to the table, leaned over a small gym bag and fiddled with the contents. Nodding to himself as if satisfied with what he’d done, he wiped his hands on his pants and then turned back to her.