Night Visions

by Ariana Dupre

  Feeling along the metal, in search of a sharp edge, the man's laugh echoed through her thoughts.

  She didn't recognize his voice from anywhere except the break-in and the hay barn; he had done both of those things. But something about his laugh was hauntingly familiar.

  A sharp protrusion pricked at her finger. Yes!

  Positioning her hands around the metal, she started to rub the ropes hard against it.

  He might come back any minute. I have to hurry!

  She thought back to the intruder in the house and the man at the hay barn as she worked.

  Who wants me dead?

  Searching through her memories for someone with blue eyes and an evil laugh, she'd almost given up again when a memory struck her.

  She stilled.

  Oh my God! her mind screamed, It can't be! It just can't be!

  * * * *

  Sheriff Trevor Oakley leaned against the police SUV, radio in hand, waiting for a response from Deputy Langford. After blood was discovered on Angie's scrunchie, Sheriff Oakley assigned more deputies to widen the search of the five hundred acre farm. He'd also called in Doc Martin because Alan wasn't looking very well.

  Trevor shuddered. He'd known Angie her entire life. This was the worst part of his job. If anyone hurt her ... He pushed the thought aside. Angie had to be alive.

  The Sheriff heard the baying of the hounds in the distance. Pressing a button, he spoke into the radio. “Langford, what'd you find?"

  "You'd better get over to the Davis place, Sheriff. I'm in the forest behind the house, down near the creek."

  Telling Alan and Doc, who were sitting on the porch, to stay put, Trevor got inside the patrol car and prepared himself for the worse.

  * * * *

  Jasper Langford put the radio back on his belt and called over his shoulder for Deputy Sims, “Keith, over here!"

  Langford approached the medium sized tree, and the man tied to it. Jared Maxwell was sitting on the ground—his feet and arms were around the truck, there was blood on his shirt. The ropes that tied his ankles and wrists together were soaked with blood from his apparent struggle to get free. A red bandanna gagged him.

  "Hang on there, Mr. Maxwell.” Langford bent down to untie the gag from Jared's mouth first.

  "Where's Angie?” Jared choked out the words.

  Langford lifted a piece of the torn blood soaked fabric from Jared's upper arm. The long wound wasn't too deep where a bullet had grazed the flesh. “Aw man, you've been shot. Looks minor though."

  "Hold still while I cut you loose,” said Deputy Sims as he took a knife out of his pocket and flipped it open.

  "Mr. Maxwell, what happened to you?” Langford asked while Sims cut the ropes holding Jared's hands and feet around the tree.

  "How's Angie?” Jared demanded, while Langford helped him stand.

  "She's still missing,” said Sims.

  "Missing? She didn't go back to the house last night?"

  "No,” Langford held Jared's uninjured arm to steady him. “We thought the two of you were together until just now, when we found you."

  A sound of a vehicle driving up drifted down the hill.

  "There's the Sheriff now. Hang on to me, I'll help you up this hill."

  "I can walk!” Jared snapped, jerking his arm away from the deputy. Wincing in pain, he stormed up the incline to the SUV. It was bad enough someone had shot him, knocked him out and tied him up to a damn tree. There was no way in hell he'd let that deputy help him walk!

  "Trevor, where's Angie?” Jared exploded as he reached the Sheriff.

  "Maybe that's a question I should ask you."

  "Me? Damn man! I've been tied to a tree since last night and you think I did something with Angie?"

  "Sheriff, he's telling the truth,” interrupted Sims. “We just got him loose. He has a bullet graze on his arm that should be bandaged."

  Jared glared at him.

  "Sorry, Mr. Maxwell, just doing my job."

  "Fine. But I have to find Angie."

  "Get in,” stated Trevor, indicating the SUV.

  "We have to look for her,” Jared argued, standing his ground. “What if the lunatic that trapped her in the hay barn has her again?

  "First, we need to take care of your arm. Second, I need a statement from you. And lastly, I've got a lot of men looking for Angie already. Maybe something you tell me will help us find her quicker."

  Reluctantly, Jared got inside the vehicle. As Trevor drove him back to the house, he stretched the muscles in his legs, easing out the cramps while listening to the details on the search for Angie.

  When they entered the kitchen of the Slayton Inn, Jared headed straight for the sink. His mouth was so dry it hurt to talk. He drank a glass of water while Trevor called out, “Doc! Alan! Get in here—we found Jared!"

  Jared washed his face and hands hurriedly then sat down at the kitchen table. He was dead tired and weak but every fiber of his body still ached to act, to do something to find Angie.

  I can't lose her. Not now. Not like this.

  Sheriff Oakley moved quickly to sit beside Jared, ripping his notepad from his pocket. Alan and Doc Martin rushed into the room.

  Alan immediately squeezed Jared's shoulder, shook his hand. “Thank God you're all right. We have to find her, Jared."

  "We will,” Jared replied, alarmed that Alan looked to have aged twenty years. “Are you okay, Alan?"

  "I'll be fine when my Angie's back. She's like a daughter to me.” Alan's brows knit together. He turned Jared's hand, twisting it to inspect the rope burns on his wrist. “Doc, you need to patch this boy up, he's got rope burns on his wrists and ripped flesh on his arm. My God, we must be dealing with a lunatic. How'd you get these injuries, son?"

  "He shot at me then tied me to a damn tree."

  Sheriff Oakley put pen to paper. “Okay Jared. Start from the last time you saw Angie.” He said, beginning to write.

  Jared looked at Alan and the sheriff then explained the events of the previous night.

  He looked at Alan. “She was mad because you told her about my connection to the Slayton's. She said I was out for revenge. I tried to explain, but she wouldn't listen and stormed out of the house. I knew security would watch her so I gave her some time to cool off.” Jared paused to drink.

  "The guard said she was by the picnic table. The other guard radioed him and the next time he looked over, she'd vanished. I immediately went to search for her."

  "Jared, I thought she had a right to know.” Alan said.

  "Don't worry about it, Alan. I should have told her. I should have told both of you."

  Jared clarified a few points for the sheriff's notes; then continued. “I called out to her but she never answered me. Then I thought I heard her scream. The sound came from the road to the Davis house so I headed that way. She yelled that he had a gun just as he fired it."

  He took another long draught of water. “I dropped my flashlight when the bullet hit my arm. He attacked, hit me over the head with it and the next thing I remember is waking up in the dark, tied to the tree. I tried to get loose but it was impossible."

  "Tell me about the man,” asked Oakley. “Did you see him at all?"

  "The only thing I know is that he's taller and bigger than me. He had on a long sleeve shirt and gloves."

  "Okay, here's what we're going to do.” Oakley folded up his pad and stuck it back in his pocket. “I've got every available deputy out here already, so I'm putting out a request for community assistance to search these three farms. Based upon the tracks we found where he took Angie—"

  "What do you mean?” asked Jared in a panic. “That crazed maniac has her?"

  "After what you just told me, I think he might. Alan found this on her pillow.” Sheriff Oakley handed Jared the note and addressed Alan. “Is there anyone who would want to hurt Angie?"

  "No one I know of. I can't lose Angie, Trevor. Not after losing Martha such a short time ago. I don't think my old heart can take it. I'll
go call some of Angie's friends. See what I can find out. Promise me you'll find her."

  Throwing the note on the table, Jared pushed his chair back. “I'll promise you, Alan. I'll never stop looking until we find her. Now, we need to stop talking and get back out there. Where's this place you found and why do you think she disappeared from there?"

  "Mr. Maxwell, you don't need to go anywhere after what you went through last night,” said Doc Martin. “Just stay here and wait. I need to dress your wounds."

  "Like hell I will!” he complained; then looked toward the officer in charge. “Unless you're going to arrest me, Sheriff, I'm going to look for her. Now where's the place?"

  "We found the scrunchie she wore yesterday on the road to the old Davis place, right by the big fig tree.” Sighing heavily, Trevor looked Jared in the eye. “The scrunchie was bloody, so we're assuming that Angie's been hurt. But we won't know for sure until we get the lab analysis back. I'm making every effort to increase the size of the search party, we need to find her quickly."

  Storming out of the house, Jared's long strides carried him down the road back to the Davis house.

  The sheriff's words rang in his ears—the scrunchie was bloody. It was one thing to tie him up all night but to take Angie, to hurt her...

  Jared remembered her scream. His stomach pitched when he realized she must have been unconscious while he was being attacked.

  How could I fail her this way? The muscles in his jaw tightened, his steps grew further apart. We haven't even had a chance to be together because I hid the truth from her. She vanished because she'd left the house, angry with me.

  And I let her go.

  Regardless of the consequences, I'll find you, Angelina. That animal will pay for hurting you.

  * * * *

  The sweat ran down Angie's arms, stinging her wrists. She knew they were bleeding, she felt the warm, stickiness in her palms.

  But she was almost free.

  She checked the thinness of the rope where she'd rubbed it against the burners. Just a little more...

  She pushed hard against the metal and the rope snapped.

  Hurry! Hurry! she thought, bringing her arms in front of her. She didn't expect the excruciating pain in her shoulders. She gasped then held her breath in case he had heard her.

  She twisted to bring her legs forward. Hot searing pain rushed up to her hips. Tears streaked down her face from the pain, and she struggled fiercely to silence her sobs.

  Ripping the gag and blindfold off her face, she looked in shock at the red bandannas. It is Burt! They were his—she knew it—she saw him with them every day. How could he do this to me? Throwing them onto the dirt floor of the barn, she thrust her feet into her sneakers, and quickly stood.

  Her legs crumpled beneath her.

  Come on legs ... work! She had to survive for herself and for Jared, if he was still alive. He had to know how much she loved him. Burt would not take her virginity.

  Standing again, legs weak but functioning, Angie tried to open the door closest to her.

  Locked.

  Stumbling to the other door, she gently pushed. It moved a little. Hope lifting her heart, she quietly pushed harder and harder, ignoring the pains still surging through her body, until at last she fell through the door.

  Blinded by the late-afternoon sunlight, she moved quietly away from the barn, not alerting her captor; then she started to run. Her body screamed in pain, but she didn't stop to listen.

  Laughter rang out through the forest. Terror ripped at Angie's heart. She grabbed a tree for support, heard the crackle of snapped branches. No way would he catch her this time! Adrenaline pumped through her as she sprinted through the trees.

  Angie fought the brush and bramble that tore at her clothes. She needed to find a safe place to hide. The pain in her legs wouldn't let her keep up this pace much longer.

  She tripped over a tree root and slid face first across the forest floor. A briar ripped into her jeans, tore the flesh underneath. She slipped on the damp forest leaves that caught in her clothes and hair as she struggled to get back on her feet.

  The footsteps drew nearer, strong and deliberate. Angie looked over her shoulder but couldn't see any sign of her pursuer.

  Running into a clearing, she spotted the shack on the other side.

  This is it—I'm really living my dream!

  She plowed ahead toward the house. It was her only hope. Maybe he'd trap her there. But what else could she do? Leaping onto the porch, she flung open the broken door. In the room on the left, she saw the same contents from her dream. I know what to do! She ran straight to the back door. No! He was headed across the yard toward the shack.

  She ran to the antique hutch, crouched down behind it. If she went out of the back, he'd be there, just like in the dream. Maybe she could change the outcome if she went out through the front door.

  The old pine floors creaked under his weight. Angie held her breath, listened to him move methodically through the shack, searching room by room.

  At last, the footsteps left the house.

  Cautiously she stood.

  Front or back?

  She glanced through the house for him; then moved toward the back door, looked out into the yard. She wouldn't relive her dream. No way.

  Running down the hallway, she slammed out of the front door, jumped off the porch and ran toward a large tree.

  I did it! I changed the dream! Still terrified, she ran behind the tree to hide.

  And crashed right into him.

  "Oh God! No!” she screamed, violently twisting her body. His fingers pushed into her flesh, pain seared through her arms. He growled her name...

  "Angelina!"

  She looked up into worried blue eyes and collapsed in his arms.

  "Shhh ... it's okay. I've got you now.” Jared lowered her to the ground. “How badly are you hurt?"

  Angie latched her arms around his neck. “I'm okay."

  Jared kissed the top of her head. “Stay here, he's by the house. I've got a score to settle."

  Angie angled her face from his chest to look at the house. Jared disengaged her arms and started to stand. Angie grabbed his hand. Bright red rope burns encircled his wrists. “Jared, what happened?” she whispered.

  "I'll tell you later. Don't move."

  "Jared, stay with me!” the words caught in her throat. She could only watch as he moved from tree to tree along the edge of the forest before crossing to the shack. When he disappeared behind the dilapidated building, Angie stood, supporting her body against the tree.

  The blast of a gunshot rang through the air. Angie's heart stopped.

  "No! No!” Screaming his name, she ran around the side of the shack into the backyard, and stopped dead in her tracks.

  Hank Emerson, Burt's son, lay unconscious on the ground with a bullet wound in his leg.

  Running over to where Jared stood, Angie threw herself into his arms, holding him tight. “I thought I lost you!"

  Picking her up, Jared carried her to the steps. “You scared me, Angie. When you disappeared last night I came after you.” He took her hands in his, stared at the dried blood on her wrists. “I should kill him."

  "No, Jared. I did this to myself, trying to escape. Let the police handle it,” she said. Taking his face in her hands, she kissed him lightly. “I love you, Jared Maxwell."

  Jared's lips crushed against hers. The emotions held in since last night poured from her. Possessing his mouth with the kiss, Angie knew she wanted him, forever. “Take me home, Jared. Take me home,” she whispered against his lips.

  * * * *

  Chapter 19

  "Thank God you're okay! I don't know when I've been more afraid.” Alan gently rubbed the ends of Angie's wet hair in the towel.

  She had insisted on a shower after Doc stitched her scalp, since he wouldn't agree to let her have one until the wound was thoroughly cleansed and sutured. The water had stung her rope burns but now she at least felt clean.


  "It's over now, Alan.” She turned slightly from her chair at the kitchen table to smile at him.

  "Hold still, Angie, we're almost finished.” Doc Martin said, wrapping the white gauze bandage around her wrist.

  Jared, freshly showered, came into the room.

  "You're next.” Angie smiled up at him.

  "I'm fine,” he insisted, leaning down to kiss her. “How bad is she, Doc?"

  "Three stitches in her scalp, rope burns, cuts and scratches. I want her to rest for the next twenty-four hours. Bring her to my office tomorrow afternoon so I can check these wounds and change the bandages."

  "You've got it,” Jared said, sitting beside Angie.

  Alan continued towel drying her hair. “Angie, do you know why Hank would do this?"

  "You know, I hate to admit it, but I almost thought it was Burt when I pulled off my gag and blindfold and saw the red bandannas. But when I saw Hank lying on the ground...” her voice trailed off as she examined her bandages. “Lord only knows why he did this!” she said angrily. “I've been wracking my brain trying to figure it out. The only thing I ever did that could have upset him is refusing to have sex with him. But that was years ago. We only went out a few times and he sure didn't seem upset then.” Angie glanced up at Doc. “Is Burt okay?"

  Doc Martin took another roll of gauze out of his bag. “Honestly, I've never seen Burt this upset. He went to the hospital."

  "Alan, what's going to happen to Hank?” she asked quietly.

  Doc Martin gathered his medical supplies, stationing himself near Jared. Alan sat in Doc's place beside Angie and took her hand in his. “They'll do a psychological evaluation before they release him from the hospital. Then he'll go to jail until the trial."

  "Where's Trevor?” she asked, accepting the glass of water Jared handed her.

  "He took Hank to the hospital since he was in custody,” replied Alan. “Hank confessed to living in that little storage shed where Jared fought with him."

  "Let me see your wrists, Jared,” said Doc Martin.

  "I'm fine Doc, really."

  "Give me your arm."

  Jared did as he was told. “That explains the noises I heard in that building at the beginning of summer. I meant to go back, but I never got around to it once the renovation started. Now I wish I had."