He arched the light around the room once again. A door in the corner. He walked over, his heart thumping. Please God, don’t let Theresa be in there dead. The door squeaked as he opened it. He ignored it. Didn’t care about the noise. He wanted to see if Theresa was in that room, dead or alive.
He flashed the light.
The room was empty.
He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not. A part of him had hoped, Theresa would be in here waiting to be rescued. But at least she wasn’t in here dead. He stepped in to take a closer look.
An old bathtub sat in the corner. He moved closer and leaned in. There was something in the tub. A bright red, yellow, and orange scarf. Just the sort of thing Theresa would wear. He reached in to pick it up.
A scuffled step.
He put his finger on the trigger of his gun and—
CHAPTER 27
His head throbbed. Dylan opened his eyes but the darkness remained.
Blindfolded.
He attempted to move his legs and arms, but couldn’t.
Both tied.
His head hurt where he’d been hit. He felt woozy, slightly sick to his stomach as if drugged. Probably had been.
How long had been here? He had no idea. Was Billy Clyde awake and looking for him? He hoped so. Too bad he hadn’t left a note explaining where he was going.
Dylan kicked out with both feet but they were blocked. The soles of his feet clanked against a barrier. He was in a container of some sorts. Hard, almost a metallic sound when he kicked.
The tub. Of course.
Whoever had snuck up on him had knocked him out and then put him in the tub.
The same tub where Theresa had no doubt been hours earlier.
Something slithered over his leg.
He wasn’t alone. His foot wanted to kick out at the intruder, but Dylan knew that wasn’t a good idea. It could be anything. No reason to aggravate it.
It moved up his leg. At least it was on the outside of his pants.
He held his breath. Your will, dear Lord, not mine.
It was the prayer he always used when in danger. He’d learned long ago in the mountains of Afghanistan that his life and his death were in God’s hand.
When he’d first gone to Afghanistan his prayer had been to keep him safe but somewhere along the way the words had changed. It felt too shallow—too selfish to pray for his safety when others around him died every day.
A clicking noise drew his attention.
What was it? It sounded familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. The slithering motion once again. Only he felt it in two places at the same time. And then the clicking noise.
And then he understood.
Snakes. He was in the tub with snakes.
More clicking. More slithering. Hard to know how many snakes were in the tub. Only two types of venomous snakes were native to this part of the country and he was lying helpless in a bathtub with one of them— rattlesnakes.
His heart fluttered and a moment of panic filled him, before he forced himself to remain calm. Panicking wouldn’t help. He assessed his situation. No way to know how many without seeing them, but he could feel them.
Could be a coincidence, but he doubted it. What kind of crazy people would put him in a tub with rattlesnakes? Why not just kill him and get it over with? It would have been a lot less painful—and terrifying.
Timber rattlers were not aggressive by nature, but that meant little under these circumstances. Certainly any movement from him would be construed as an attack from them.
He moved his hands slowly searching for the end of the rope binding them.
If he could untie himself, he might be able to get out of the tub. After a few minutes and no luck with the rope, he wondered if he should try to ease out of the tub. He might be able to do it, but without being able to see the snakes, he had a good chance of kicking one or stepping on one and then all bets would be off.
More whispered rattles.
Well, he wasn’t one to wait for something to happen.
He’d take his chances trying to escape. Better than laying here and waiting for them to attack him. Without any sense of rushing, he moved inch by inch to a sitting position all the while rattles came and went as snakes slithered across his ankles, his legs, his thighs, and his body.
CHAPTER 28
“Are we there yet?” Suzie yelled from the backseat.
“Stop asking that. We’ve only been in the car five minutes.” Noah complained. “Mom, tell her to stop asking that.”
Reggie giggled under her breath. These kids reminded her of Joni’s kids when she and Dylan had taken them to the zoo earlier in the summer.
Suzie and Noah. You both need to quiet down.” Her passenger’s face flamed red and she sounded mortified. “I’m so sorry. They’re a bit high-strung this morning.”
“It’s not a problem at all. Don’t worry about it. My nieces and nephews are the same way.”
Reggie turned left into her parents-in-laws’ drive and came to a stop beside the old white farmhouse. She was impatient to get moving and get to Paw Paw, but she’d made peace with the fact she had other things to do first.
No matter how worried she was at the moment, she’d stay here until the time was right. Right for Misty and her kids—not for herself.
It was time for her to start focusing on someone other than herself. Life was about more than what she wanted. It was about helping others. No more drama queen.
In spite of the early morning drizzle, Mellie and Joni rushed out to greet them before Reggie managed to unbuckle Suzie’s seatbelt.
Joni looked great these days, now that she was a renowned artist. The instant fame she experienced might have messed with some people’s heads but not her sister-in-law.
Her main focus remained on her family, but she’d had to attend some art shows over the past year so she’d opted for a makeover. She’d managed to lose fifteen pounds and her new sophisticated haircut had taken years off her looks, but she was still the same sweet woman she’d met more than a year earlier.
“Morning.” Reggie told them as they hurried up to the car. “This is Misty and Suzie. And the handsome young man is Noah.”
Her mother-in-law wore a blue jean skirt with sandals and her pepper and salt braid hung down the middle of her back. Mellie hugged both children. “I am so glad to meet you.”
Noah cracked a small smile.
Mellie’s eyes grew wide with surprise. The woman was so good with kids, her own and everybody else’s. “Hey Noah, do you like pancakes?”
“Sure.”
Mellie grabbed his hand. “Then, let’s go eat some and get out of this weather.”
They trooped into the house.
As soon as Reggie opened the door, her mouth watered. Along with pancakes, they must be having her mother-in-law’s famous egg casserole. She called it everything-but-the-kitchen-sink eggs. She sniffed out onions, peppers, and bacon, and maybe some ham.
Joni’s kids were seated around the kitchen table and in moments so were Suzie and Noah. Everyone was eating and laughing. Ken gave his wife a meaningful look. “You guys go on in the dining room and eat, I’ll take care of the crew out here.”
Misty cast a worried glance at Suzie sitting in the high chair. “Uh, I don’t know if—”
Ken smiled at Misty. “It’s fine. I know how to take care of kids, especially cuties like yours. It will be fine and if it isn’t, I’ll come get you.”
Misty nodded.
The four women made their way into the dining room. Food along with milk, coffee, and orange juice had already been set up for them as well. After everyone had food on their plates and a prayer, Mellie looked at Misty.
“I hope you don’t mind Reggie told me a little bit about your situation. It sounds like you’ve had a difficult time of it.”
Misty’s hand shook as she lifted the orange juice glass to her mouth. She nodded and gave a small tight smile. It was obvious Misty was uncomfortable, but then aga
in who wouldn’t be in the same situation.
Reggie fought the urge to rush the conversation along, but it was best to let Mellie handle things in her own gentle way. Her mother-in-law was wiser than any judge she’d dealt with as a lawyer, not that she’d dealt with that many in her short career.
Mellie smiled her angelic smile. “You’re probably feeling a ton of emotions right now. Guilt—how could you have let things get so out of control? Fear—what’s going to happen to my children? Condemnation—what’s wrong with me that my own husband does these things to me?”
Misty’s gaze moved from the orange juice glass to Mellie. She brushed a blonde lock away from her face.
“Your mind’s probably full of questions and no answers. But you don’t need answers right this minute. They’ll come in time. Right now, all you need to do is breathe and love your children. Can you do that?”
Tears streamed down Misty’s face but she nodded.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Misty shook her head.
“That’s fine. No reason to. It’s too soon.” Mellie speared a bite of egg casserole and chewed. “Do you like the eggs?’
Misty wiped her tears with the cloth napkin beside her plate, took a bite. “Delicious.”
Mellie looked over at Joni and nodded.
Joni reached over and touch Misty’s arm. “We want you to know we’re here to help. You aren’t alone. You’re going to make it through this. One thing about being in situations like this is you want to believe the man you love will change, and then everything will be all right.” Joni paused and took a deep breath. “That’s what my sister thought, too. Until the night her boyfriend killed her.”
As Joni’s words sunk in, Misty’s face crumpled.
The shock of Joni’s words took Reggie’s breath away. She knew the story, of course, but it wasn’t talked about much. Only the good things about their sister were talked about at family dinners.
Joni smiled to take the edge off her words. “I’m not saying your husband would do that to you. I’m just saying, it’s important for you to know being safe should be a top priority for you. And for your kids.”
“In a day or so you’re going to start thinking that you overreacted and you should give him another chance. I’m telling you not to give him that chance. If he wants to get into some serious therapy, then maybe in six months or so you can talk about giving him another chance. But not right now.”
Wiping away more tears, Misty nodded. “I know you’re right. He always promises he won’t do it again. But he never keeps that promise. I won’t go back until I know he won’t hurt my children again.”
Mellie poured coffee for the group. “Well, we need to make a few decisions. All of it’s up to you, of course. We’re not trying to bulldoze you into doing anything you don’t want to do, but I do have an idea. My neighbor, Ada Browne, needs some help.”
“Ada is a widow.” Joni sat down her fork. “And she’s having some health problems. Her children have moved away from the area so they can’t help her as much as they’d like.”
“Unfortunately, Ada can’t afford to pay you anything but she can provide a safe place for you and your children to stay. It will give you time to think and make whatever decisions you need to make.”
“But she doesn’t even know me.” Misty said. “Why would she want to help me?”
“She’s a good Christian woman and you’d be helping her as well. She doesn’t need much from you, some housekeeping and cooking and looking after her property.”
“Is it a farm?” Misty looked terrified.
Mellie nodded. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t expect you to milk cows or bale the hay. All you need to do is feed a few chickens and her dogs.”
“Oh, I guess I can do that.” Misty smiled.
“That is such a great idea, Mellie. I wish I’d thought of it.” Reggie looked over at Misty. “Ada is a really nice woman, but life will probably be a little different there for you and the kids. Ada’s old-order Mennonite.”
Misty looked puzzled. “I don’t understand. You mean she’s Amish?”
“The Mennonite and the Amish are different religions but one thing they have in common is a simple lifestyle.” Mellie dished more eggs onto her plate. “She has electricity, but her clothes are closer to what the Amish wear than what we wear and she wears a cap on her head. I’m not sure if she has a TV, but she does have a phone.”
“With her health problems, maybe the kids will be too much for her? They can be awfully noisy.”
Mellie laughed. “Not in the least, when I told her about your situation, her first comment was she needed to get up and bake cookies for them. I think it will do her a world of good to have some children in the house. So, what do you think?”
“I think it sounds wonderful.”
“So, that’s the plan, then?” Reggie fought the urge to stand up and race out of the house. Billy and Theresa were in trouble and that mean Dylan was as well.
She was more and more convinced of that with each passing second.
CHAPTER 29
Billy’s eyes popped open. Theresa. Please God keep her safe. You know I can’t live without her. He knew nothing more than when this had started—and no closer to finding his beloved wife.
He sat up on the edge of the sofa and flexed his arm.
Still sore but the pain was less than yesterday. They’d left the bandage off for the night. He inspected it. The wound looked good. Clean, no more seepage and no signs of infection.
“Monroe, where are you?”
No answer.
Billy charged through the house as if he were the proverbial bull in the china store. His anxiety grew with each step. Where was Monroe? He’d slept much longer than he’d wanted to. It was almost noon.
Had to be the pain pills.
He walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a package of cheese along with two bottles of water. Quick and good for him. The protein would keep up his energy. He slit the package open with a knife and walked over to the dining room table.
The kidnapper’s phone rang. He rushed over and flipped it open. “What?”
“Good morning to you. How’s the arm feeling today?”
Billy gritted his teeth. “Fine.”
“Did you take care of that little favor I needed done?”
“I did. Now, where’s my wife?”
“I’m going to have to verify that you took care of my problem.”
His gaze fell to a picture on the floor. He leaned down, picked it up and dropped it back on the table with the other photos.
“I told you I did it and I did. My word is my bond.”
The man had the nerve to laugh. “Good, then there won’t be a problem. Your wife should be back home safe and sound by nightfall.” A pause. “But I’m not sure if the same can be said for your friend. It might be a good idea to retrace your steps from yesterday. You really should find him—quickly.”
“What—” Billy looked at the phone. The call had been disconnected.
How had they managed to take Dylan without him hearing a thing? He couldn’t have been sleeping that soundly—even with the drugs. He walked to the kitchen door and looked in the garage. His SUV was gone. Dylan had gone somewhere.
But where?
He walked back into the kitchen and downed the first bottle of water, then broke off another piece of the cheese and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, he picked the photo back up.
He stared at it.
The cheese stuck in his throat. He coughed and forced it down. Picked up the second bottle of water and drained it. His heart raced as he stared at the picture. How could he have missed it the night before?
Apparently, Dylan hadn’t missed it.
****
Sweat dripped down Dylan’s face.
He’d lost all sense of time. He might have been stuck in the tub for twenty minutes or twenty hours for all he knew. The snakes glided on him and around him as if were a tree stump rat
her than a living breathing person.
But no bites—so far.
He planted his feet firmly on the bottom of the tub and pushed upward with all due deliberate speed. Inch by agonizing inch. He held his breath as if that might stop the snakes from deciding to attack him.
With his hands tied behind him, it made it very awkward. He needed to get a firm grasp of the top of the tub so it would anchor him. But he hadn’t reached that point yet.
His arms and shoulders ached from the odd position. His legs were cramping but he didn’t dare try to relieve the pain.
Several inches later he lifted a foot to try and get a better position. As he set it back down, he felt the snake underneath the foot, heard the warning rattle, and then felt the pain.
He bit his lip and moaned, but kept his foot steady. No quick moves. No matter what. He twisted the foot and placed it down in a different spot. Very slowly and very carefully. After assuring himself there was no snake under his foot he let it come to rest. He felt the snake slither across his foot.
He waited for another bite but it didn’t come.
But one bite was more than enough depending on how much venom the snake had squirted while he bit him. His ankle throbbed. Was that a burning sensation or just the pain from the bite?
Didn’t matter.
He had to get out of here. If the snake had injected him with venom, he only had a short window of time to get medical help. He shifted his weight and himself upwards several more inches.
Warning rattles.
They didn’t like his quick movements.
He scraped his hands on the surface of the tub and moved them upwards, hoping there were no snakes behind him, but he still couldn’t find the top of the tub. He slid his feet backwards and pushed upwards, yet again.
He let out his breath. Finally, his fingers curled around the edge of the top.
Sweat dripped down his neck. He took a moment to catch his breath and braced himself for the next move. Another snake darted across his foot but then it stopped.
Dylan waited for it to move on, but it didn’t.
It became a battle of the wills.
Neither of them moved. Neither of them willing to give up their position.
Lillian Duncan - Until Death Do Us Part Page 9