As he drove to the sheriff’s office, James’ phone suddenly started going crazy.
Alerts of incoming text messages chirped as he drove; first a few, then more and more. Alerting law enforcement to keep an eye out for his wife was one thing. The network of Ravenwood Cove friends and neighbors who loved the Landons was large and devoted, and it didn’t take much guessing to realize that Mrs. Granger had probably alerted her untold minions around town. If James’ suspicions were correct, just a few well-placed calls from the elderly maven would have dozens of folks doing their best to find his missing wife. The thought of the word spreading around town and people hurrying to help somehow made James feel better.
He wasn’t alone in this.
Amanda had captured the hearts of Ravenwood Cove as soon as she started standing up the mayor and doing her best to bring in more tourists to the languishing beach town. As she got involved and began to know people, they started appreciating how hard she worked and what she did. She’d become part of Ravenwood Cove, and the townspeople had claimed her as one of their own.
One more attempt to call Amanda, one more voicemail recording.
One more handsfree call to Elizabeth, who confirmed Mrs. Granger had pulled out her new smartphone the moment James had left the Inn and had been mobilizing the Ravenwood troops.
As he was swinging onto the main road toward Likely, his phone buzzed with an unmistakable number.
“George! What did you find out?” James’ eyes were locked on the road, but he was holding his breath as he waited for the police chief’s news.
“We’ve found something, James. I think you need to come out by Oswald Pike’s place and see this for yourself.” George’s voice was low, subdued, and James’ heart sank.
“What is it, George? Tell me.”
There was a pause, then, “We found her car. It’s in a ditch on one of the side streets by Pike’s woods. Go past his house about two hundred yards and then pull off to the right. Pike called in the crash.”
“And?”
A long sigh. “Amanda’s nowhere to be found. Get here as quick as you can.”
“On my way,” James said, and stomped on the accelerator. The massive engine of his cruiser lurched into high speed as he raced toward Oswald Pike’s house, and toward discovering what had happened to his wife.
__
Officer Wayne Rollins was the rookie on the Ravenwood Cove police department, and even as James jerked to stop by the side of the road he knew the news wasn’t good. Rollins was young and his normally pleasant face was strained and sorrowful. George was standing beside him, and as soon as James saw George’s expression he knew he wasn’t going to like the news. The police chief’s dark eyebrows were furrowed with worry. He was standing with his hands on his hips at the edge of the pavement, right beside a ditch so deep the bottom of it couldn’t be seen from the road. Two pairs of black skid marks ran off the asphalt and down the side of the embankment, leaving no doubt as to what it happened to someone’s car.
“Where is she?” James gasped as he slammed the car door behind him. “Have you found her?”
George silently pointed to the skid marks and James loped over to peer down the slope. At the bottom of the small embankment, about eight feet down, was the crumpled remains of his wife’s SUV. The entire front end was buried in some bushes at the base of a large tree trunk, and both front airbags had been deployed. The driver’s door was hanging open, the glass broken out in a wild spray of crystalline shards, and the entire car was tilted sideways in the sticky Oregon mud.
As hard as it was to switch gears, James did his best to think like a detective and not like a worried husband. His worst fears had been realized; that Amanda wasn’t just late or had a broken-down car and a dead cell phone.
Rollins walked over next to him and put his hands on his hips, looking at the wreck, too.
“No sign of her?” James asked, even though he knew what the answer would be.
“Sorry, James. No, there isn’t.”
She’d disappeared.
He’d been in this sort of situation as a detective many times before, so he swung into the mental checklist he always used for a possible crime scene.
Tracks. If Amanda wasn’t in or close to the car, either she’d walked away herself or someone else had gotten to her.
“Stand back,” James ordered, putting one long arm out to sweep Rollins out of the way. Bending over, he peered at the gravel by the side of the road, then at the muddy hillside.
Two sets of footsteps down, two sets of footsteps back up.
“You went down to check the car yourself, right?” James asked, and Rollins nodded.
“Yep. As soon as I realized the car was empty and no one needed an ambulance, I came back here, called it in, and canceled the call for paramedics. That’s where I stepped”— he said, indicating a trail a few feet to his left— “and I came back up as close to that as I could. Didn’t want to disturb any evidence. Then the chief showed up and I told him what I’d found.”
“And he didn’t go down to the wreck?”
Rollins shook his head. “No, he didn’t.”
James glanced at the gray sky and the fast-moving clouds. Weather on the coast was notoriously unpredictable and could change any minute. He pulled out his phone and walked along the edge of the pavement.
There they were.
The other set of tracks. One down, one back up. Big feet in combat boots.
And the ones back up were much deeper and closer together than the ones going down to the wreck.
“Call the sheriff’s office and tell them I need a forensics team down here to plaster these tracks and take in the car for examination, and tell them to hurry. Block off the road and don’t let anyone through either way. I’ll be right back.”
His voice was shaking as he carefully walked down into the embankment. He knew Amanda wasn’t there and hadn’t walked away on her own, but he had to be sure.
“This is a kidnapping, not just an accident.”
Rollins was already picking up the handset to his police radio when he heard James’ voice again.
“And he carried her away from here.”
Chapter 5
Not much stayed secret in the tight-knit town of Ravenwood Cove, and word of the kidnapping of Amanda Landon was circulating around town within minutes of Brian Petrie intercepting the police transmission. Calls were made, texts sent, and tears shed as neighbor after neighbor passed along the terrible news. Amanda was well-known and well-loved by many of the townspeople, and as soon George made sure James was on his way to the crash site, George had a good idea of exactly what was going to happen. Within minutes he’d made a quick round of sharp-voiced phone calls, sending law enforcement and volunteer firefighters up to the crash site. He might not be able to immediately find Amanda, but the least he could do is make sure a flood of anxious civilians didn’t get in the way of the investigation.
When Elizabeth hesitantly told the news to Mrs. Granger, who’d declared she wasn’t going to leave the Ravenwood Inn until Amanda came home, she was worried the old lady was going to have a heart attack. Mrs. Granger’s face became deathly gray, her bird-like eyes, usually so full of vitality and fire, were horrified and heartbroken. She’d been chatting and full of advice as Elizabeth rolled out piecrust dough just a moment before, but when she heard the news she plopped down onto the seat of her wheeled walker, as if all her strength had given out.
“Kidnapped? Are... are they sure?”
“Are you okay, Mrs. Granger?” Elizabeth asked, but the old lady brushed aside her concern.
“I’m fine. I asked, are they sure?”
“James’ mother called me after James called her. He’s still at the crash site, and he’s the one who said she’d been... kidnapped.” It hurt to even say the word.
There was a moment of silence while Mrs. Granger pondered what Elizabeth had said.
“Well,” Mrs. Granger mused as she closed her eyes, as if in
pain, “if James says someone took her, then I believe him. The question is, who would do such a terrible thing, and what do we do to get her back?”
Elizabeth slid into one of the kitchen chairs at the long harvest table and reached over to gently hold one of Mrs. Granger’s gnarled hands. It was cold to the touch.
“We know she’s had to tangle with some rough characters in the past, and James knows all their names,” Elizabeth said in a reassuring tone. “I’m sure he’s working on that list very hard. He’s got all his contacts through the police department and the sheriff’s office, and he even knows people at the FBI. I’d bet they’ll turn up something soon.”
Her words were meant to comfort, but it was tough to fool a woman with ninety or so years of experience to draw on. Mrs. Granger sighed and patted Elizabeth’s hand. A single tear ran down her lined face.
“Oh, I hope you’re right, my dear. I can’t tell you how much I hope you’re right.”
Chapter 6
It wasn’t quite dark, and it wasn’t quite light.
Wherever she was, it hurt. All of her hurt. Trying to swim upward through the tangled, murky thoughts to consciousness made her head ache. It would be easy to just say asleep, away from the throbbing pain in her body.
But she had to wake up. There was something missing.
Something was wrong.
Amanda pressed her shut eyes together, even tighter, as if willing away the reality of the world, but alarm bells were sounding through her mind.
Katie! What about Katie!
However tempting it was to just sink back into the comfort of unconscious slumber, Amanda knew she had to awaken.
Something was terribly, terribly wrong.
Her head was wet, and she could smell blood. The side of her head itched, and it was only when she tried to reach up and scratch it that her eyes snapped open in absolute panic.
She couldn’t move her hand. Her arms were bound behind her back, and her feet, too. She was in total darkness, lying on her side, in a near-fetal position.
Someplace small and confined.
She gasped in sudden realization.
She was a prisoner. The air around her was warm and close, and she strained to listen, trying to get any clue of where she was, or what had happened.
The last thing she remembered was her head on the steering wheel of a car.
Her car, with the airbag exploding in her face.
She struggled against the pain in her head to remember anything else, but the last thing she could recall was resting her head on the steering wheel, then slipping into darkness.
But there was one thing more.
It was just a feeling of what had happened, not a picture.
A feeling that she wasn’t alone.
Trying to recall anything else, she thought back as much as she could, but it was so murky it seemed impossible.
Amanda carefully shifted onto her shoulder and used her fingertips to brush against the confines imprisoning her. It took a bit of maneuvering, and she tried to be as quiet as possible, but if she was going to get out of this situation she needed to know exactly what she was dealing with. Straining against her bonds, she rolled far enough over she finally was able to touch a short-napped carpet, then cold metal, and her situation became much more clear.
The reality of where she was enveloped her, and her heart sank.
She was in the trunk of a car.
And her hands and feet were bound with a strong cord.
It could’ve been minutes, or it could’ve been an hour she was alone in the dark. There was simply no way to tell how time passed, except for the pounding of her own heartbeat. After her brief bit of panic, she did her best to tamp down her feelings. She’d always hated small spaces, but becoming hysterical wasn’t going to help her get out. Amanda took a deep breath and said a small one-word prayer.
HELP.
She’d said that prayer before when words had failed her, and hoped her desperation somehow made it more likely to be heard.
It hadn’t been her fault, and now that her mind was starting to clear, the thoughts of how she’d wound up in this mess came flooding back.
It had all started with that stupid phone call.
Maybe just hours ago, but a different lifetime...
I SHOULD BE AT GRACE TwoHorses’ house, Amanda thought darkly as she drove the rough backroad toward Likely. We should be sitting at her kitchen table, drinking that peach tea she likes so much, and figuring out how many tables we need for the dance coming up at the Grange hall.
Instead, she was on her way to meet one of the few people she hoped she’d never have to see again.
Gripping the steering wheel, she peered out the windshield at the overhanging branches which twined together over the dark road. It had rained a bit about an hour before, and the cracked pavement was littered with fir needles and streaks of tree pollen. Cold sunlight struggled to filter beneath the thick tree canopy.
Perfect day for this, she thought, and sighed. It wasn’t her fault that she had to cram another appointment into an already busy schedule. If he’d just done what he should’ve done a couple of years ago, she wouldn’t be speeding along to the Harmony Inn in Likely to sign quitclaim papers for a condo that had supposedly been sold before she came to Ravenwood Cove.
I’m in, I’m out, and then I’m off to pick up Katie, she thought, trying to cheer herself up. Then she’d never have to deal with him again.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye she saw something long and fast slither across the road. She had the split-second sensation of having seen a huge snake, and Amanda instinctively jumped on the brakes, but it was too late.
There was the sound of an explosion, and Amanda’s SUV jerked sharply to the right. Frantically, she fought to control the skid, but the momentum of her speed and the wet pavement worked against her, and with a sense of horror she watched helplessly as the car slid over the side of the road and careened down a small embankment. It was almost a blur, it happened so fast, and she barely saw the clump of trees as the car rushed toward them, bouncing as though it was going to flip over.
With an earth-shaking crash, the SUV smashed into the trees, and Amanda’s world exploded with horrifying sound and sensation.
Then there was silence and pain, and someone putting something soft and cloth over her mouth and nose. She could taste something sweet.
Then the merciful darkness enveloped her.
DOING HER BEST TO KEEP quiet in case her abductor was still in the area, she tried to calm her breathing and thoughts. If she was going to get out of this, she needed to keep her wits about her.
Gritting her teeth against the throbbing pain in her temple, she began exploring the boundaries of her prison as much as she could. The trunk was completely empty, except for her, and the door latch wouldn’t budge.
She tried putting her bound feet against the opposite wall and pushing as hard as she could, hoping it would move the backseats inside the car, but nothing budged. She tried kicking several times, then took a break to catch her breath. She was about to try again when a small sound outside the car froze her into immobile silence.
There was a shuffling nearby, and a scraping, then the sound of metal clicking against metal.
She stopped breathing, her eyes wide as if somehow she’d be able to hear better, understand better what was happening that she could not see.
Someone was standing outside of the car, and he had keys in his hand.
Chapter 7
“Okay, Mr. Pike. Let’s talk about what you know, shall we?”
“Um... do we have to?”
Oswald Pike stared at the two men sitting across from him at his pockmarked kitchen table. He’d never had the police chief of Ravenwood ask him questions about a crime before, and that was bad enough, but George Ortiz had brought Detective Landon with him. The man was so stiff with suppressed rage he looked like he’d be more than thrilled to just latch his big hands around Oswald’s neck and squeeze an
y bit of information out of him.
Oswald didn’t know James had very good reason to be so angry. When he’d gotten to the abandoned car there had been a thin trickle of blood on the seat and steering wheel.
Amanda’s blood.
George glanced at James, then back at Oswald. “Yes, we do have to. Your house is the closest one to the crash site, Mr. Pike, and you called in the accident. So, you were home at the time of the crash?”
Oswald fiddled with the handle of his coffeecup. He’d gotten it on the only trip he’d ever taken to Hawaii. He used it every day because it made him happy to think back about that vacation.
Today it didn’t.
“Yes, I think I was.”
James glared at him. “What do you mean, you think you were? You were either home or you weren’t.”
Oswald bit his lower lip, his eyes worried. “I mean, I didn’t see the crash, but I heard it. I was watching Jeopardy on TV and all of a sudden I heard tires skidding up the road a ways. It’s pretty quiet out here, so I thought maybe someone had swerved so they wouldn’t hit a deer or something.”
“And then?” George asked, leaning forward.
Oswald took a quick sip of his too-hot coffee and instantly regretted it.
“Um, well I heard the car hit, somewhere down in the trees. It took me a bit to get my boots on, and since the battery in my car is dead, I had to walk all the way up to see what happened. As soon as I saw the skid marks I called the cops, and they called for an ambulance.”
“You didn’t go down to see if anyone was in the car?” James ground out, and Oswald leaned as far back in his chair as he could, as if being too close to James was a true threat.
“Hey, I’m not a doctor or some kind of hero. I’m just that contractor guy you call when you want to put in a window or you need to get a dead rat out of your wall. I don’t know diddly-poo about medical stuff, and from what I’ve heard they say you shouldn’t move accident victims ‘cause it could do more harm than good.”
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