by Leigh Bale
“Cara!” she yelled as she went. “Cara, are you here?”
No response.
“Toni, stop! Go outside and call the police.” Mac hobbled after her, but she evaded him easily.
She bounded up the stairs. Mac couldn’t stop her. Her heart pounded as she searched each and every bedroom, looking for her sister.
“Toni, are you okay?” Mac spoke from the bottom of the stairs. Anxiousness filled his voice and she knew he couldn’t follow her easily on his lame leg.
“I’m fine,” she called. Satisfied that Cara was not in the house, she returned to the living room.
Mac shook his head, his expression dark and angry. “That wasn’t smart. What if the person who did this was still in the house?”
She didn’t meet his eyes. He was right, of course. But nothing mattered now except finding Cara. Toni whipped out her cell phone, intending to try her sister’s number again. Maybe she had stopped at another friend’s house. Maybe she went shopping at the mall—
Something on the floor caught her eye. She gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. “Oh, no! My vase.”
She stared at the three pieces of delicate green glass lying beside the fireplace. Eric’s picture lay next to them. The vase had been knocked to the floor. No doubt the soft carpet had kept it from shattering into a thousand pieces.
She moved into the room and sank to her knees before picking up one piece of broken glass. She cradled it on her palm, her jangled nerves causing her hands to shake.
“Toni, I’m sorry.” Mac stood beside her, his long fingers squeezing her shoulder.
She thrust his hand away, trembling, barely able to breathe. “Don’t, Mac. I want to yell and scream and hit something, I’m so furious right now. I’m angry, and I don’t even know who to be angry at.”
Mac crouched beside her, his injured leg held out straight as he balanced himself with one hand on the floor. He took hold of her arm and turned her so he could look into her eyes. “Be angry at me. I’m to blame, Toni. I’d trade places with Eric if I could. I’d give anything to have him here at home, safe and sound.”
“But this isn’t your fault.” She indicated the room, trying to sort through her emotions. Trying to think clearly.
Her temples pounded as she glanced at her watch. Almost eight o’clock. Grandma was safe at Aunt Holly’s, but where was Cara?
“Toni, go over to the neighbors and call 9-1-1,” Mac urged as he helped her stand. “Your neighbors might have seen or heard something.”
She tugged on his arm, trying to pull him with her. “You come, too. Don’t stay here alone, Mac.”
He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ll be okay. You already ensured that whoever did this is long gone. Go on, now.”
With his training and stubborn temperament, she realized he wouldn’t budge. Wounded, he was in no condition to fight off bad guys, no matter how skilled or tough he was. She left him only because she was certain he was alone in the house. Hurrying outside, she sprinted across the lawn, hurdling the low picket fence surrounding the Wilson’s yard.
Toni soon returned, followed by Clarence and Maggie Wilson, their neighbors for the past thirteen years. Clarence gripped a shovel, prepared to use it as a weapon if necessary.
As expected, Toni found Mac’s crutch leaning against the wall by the front door as he hobbled around, searching the house.
“Did you call 9-1-1?” he asked, his jaw locked.
“Yes, I reported a burglary. Any sign of Cara?”
Mac shook his head and Toni’s heart felt as though it sank through the floor. Where was her sister?
“Unbelievable,” Clarence Wilson spoke behind her as he stepped around debris littering the floor. “We didn’t hear a thing, did we, Maggie?”
“Did you see any vehicles parked out front?” Mac asked.
Clarence shook his head.
“I can hardly believe this has happened in our quiet neighborhood.” Maggie gaped at the living room.
The place looked as though a tornado had struck. Toni felt invaded. Robbed of all security. She breathed in short, quick bursts. Tears and a tantrum weren’t an option right now. Instead, she got angry. Good and mad. How dare someone come into her home and tear the place apart?
“Mac, this has something to do with what happened in Clarkston, doesn’t it?” she whispered for his ears alone.
“My instincts say yes.”
That wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear.
Sirens filled the air as two squad cars parked out front. Toni went outside with Mac to greet the police and she tried to remain calm.
Everything became a whirl of activity. Toni sat inside one of the squad cars filling out paperwork while Mac stood close by, leaning against the open door. Cops went inside, guns drawn. Toni stared wide-eyed, thinking how insane her life had become. If only she understood Eric’s letter and what it meant.
Half-an-hour later, Toni had called all of Cara’s friends and Aunt Holly, to see if her sister had turned up. No one had seen the girl for several hours.
Toni promised a burly police sergeant that she’d make a list of anything missing in the house. She’d need to file an insurance claim. She kept glancing at her watch. Cara should be at Aunt Holly’s by now.
The evening dragged by and Toni couldn’t deny the absolute terror stiffening her shoulders and causing her hands to shake. Someone had shot at her, then ransacked Mac’s cabin and stole Eric’s letter. Ponytail man tried to run them off the road.
Now Cara was missing.
“Mac, what if Cara was here in the house? What if she came home and someone took her?”
Tears burned her eyes and she couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat. Her anger simmered beneath the realization that this nightmare wasn’t over and someone else she loved could be hurt.
Mac stood close by, offering his support as cops searched inside and out of the house, tromping on Grandma’s mariposa lilies.
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” Mac whispered and gave her a hug.
His presence soothed her raw nerves. She caught his clean masculine scent and felt the strength in his powerful arms. As she drew away, Toni glanced at his face. In the deepening shadows of the summer evening, she saw his stern expression. Something sparked in his eyes and she shivered. He didn’t say so, but she saw the fury simmering beneath his icy control.
“Did you notice anything missing from your house?” he asked.
“Just my computer. The police don’t understand why the burglar didn’t steal Grandma’s valuable jewelry and silver. I told the cops about the man who shot at me on Thorne Mountain and later tried to run us off the road. They don’t know what to think about Eric’s missing letter either. I still don’t know who to trust.”
“I know. Let’s wait on that piece, until I can speak to my commanding officer. I think this is a matter for NCIS.”
Toni remembered him telling her that NCIS was already investigating the ambush in Afghanistan.
“Colonel Wilkinson can bring them in to help us,” Mac said. “I’ve called him and he’s planning to visit with us tomorrow morning.”
Lights came on inside the house and policemen walked past the wide picture window in the formal living room.
Toni clenched her hands. “You think we can go inside now?”
Mac nodded. “Yes.”
They headed for the front door. As Toni disappeared inside, Mac looked down the street. A movement caught his eye. A lone figure stood in the shadows of a palm tree one block away. From this distance, Mac couldn’t make out the man’s face. He could be a neighbor, drawn out of his house by curiosity at all the police cars and activity. Under the circumstances, Mac felt overly suspicious of everyone right now.
With his crutch pressed beneath his arm, he plodded toward the stranger. The man didn’t seem to notice as he stepped away from the tree and headed down the street at a brisk walk. It was futile to attempt to catch him. Instead, Mac returned to Toni’s house and r
eported the stranger to the police.
“We’ll check it out,” an officer promised.
Mac doubted they’d find the guy. The cops wouldn’t be here much longer and he stayed close by in case Toni needed him.
He bummed four aspirin from Toni, then called Miriam at the diner in Clarkston to ask her to get word to his parents that he was safe in Vegas. In return, his folks had left a message for him that they were fine and hadn’t seen any more intruders. Mac wasn’t surprised. No doubt whoever had torn up the cabin had followed him and Toni to Vegas.
To do some of his own sleuthing, Mac walked around the outside of Toni’s house, searching the windows and doors for signs of a break-in. The cops had found a tire iron at the back of the garage. Someone had used the iron to jimmy open the back door and gain entry to the house. A detective was already dusting for fingerprints.
An hour later, the police finally left. Toni came outside and found him in the back yard.
“I called Shannon again,” she said. “The cops said they’d be on alert, but they won’t let me file a missing person’s report until Cara’s been gone at least twenty-four hours. I don’t understand why they can’t help us. We know more about Eric’s missing file than they do.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking miserable and vulnerable.
Her voice sounded bitter and coated by fear. He stood beside her, his common sense telling him Cara was in trouble. He didn’t understand why the police wouldn’t help find Cara either. If she’d just come up missing, that was one thing. But with all that had happened, surely they realized the girl could be in big trouble. “Maybe Cara made a pit stop at someone else’s house.”
“That’s possible, but I’ve called everyone I can think of. Even some of her teachers. I’m worried.”
He took her hand and squeezed tight, offering her support, wishing he could do more. A protective feeling rose up inside of him. He’d failed Eric, but he was determined not to fail Toni. “She could be with a new boyfriend. Remember Cara has stayed out late like this before.”
“Yes, that’s just the problem. I don’t know if I should go out looking for her or stay here.” Toni fidgeted with a pen, her tone turning angry. “Oh, when I get a hold of that girl. I can’t decide if I want to hug her or ground her.”
Doubt filled her eyes and her shoulders slumped in defeat. Fading sunlight glinted off her hair, deepening the red highlights to golden fire. He’d always loved her beautiful hair. He lifted a hand and cupped her soft cheek in a caress meant to soothe her jangled nerves. When she turned her face and kissed his palm, his heart melted. Regret swamped him and he wondered how he’d ever let this woman leave his life. He’d been such a fool, seeking after worldly pursuits.
“She’ll turn up.” He tried to sound positive, but he couldn’t shake a bad feeling.
“I hope you’re right. But when I get the chance, I’m going to buy a big dog. A mastiff like Grunt.”
Mac almost laughed, knowing Toni had been converted. “Grunt’s a giant teddy bear, but definitely a deterrent to intruders.”
In fact, Mac wished the big mongrel was here with them now. He doubted an intruder would want to take on such a fierce dog.
Toni turned to go inside the house, but he caught her arm and pointed at the flowerbed. “The cops found the footprints of the burglar. They look the same as those we found at the cabin. I think it’s the same man.”
Her expression hardened. “I’m not surprised. I just wish we knew who we were dealing with and what they wanted.”
He followed her past the flowerbeds to the back sliding glass doors.
“They stole my laptop, but I think they want the flash drive,” she said. “I’m so glad we had the common sense to keep it with us.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “Me, too.”
“What if the burglar returns? The cops said they can’t spare a squad car to stay here, but they’ll drive by a few times throughout the night to check things out. Little good that will do us.” Resentment edged her tone and she snorted with disgust.
“I doubt the burglar will return. I’m afraid we’ll have to play a waiting game, now.” Mac picked up a broom resting beside the wall and began to sweep up the broken glass in the main entranceway.
Toni gathered up sheaths of paper and books, righting furniture, clearing a pathway for them to walk through the debris. Mac picked up the three broken pieces of the green vase he’d selected for Eric in Baghdad. As he cradled the glass in his hands, he searched the kitchen pantry for a paper sack to put them in. Then, he carried the bag out to his truck. He knew of someone who might be able to repair the damage and make the vase look good as new.
It was the least he could do. If only he could repair their broken lives as easily.
Chapter Thirteen
“Let me out of here!” Cara Hamilton banged on the iron bars for the hundredth time.
The musty scent of damp earth stung her nose as she peered through the shadows of her cramped cell. At least, she thought it was a cell.
She stumbled in the dark, reaching for the far wall. Vague light gleamed from a single dingy light bulb above a wooden door at the top of the stairs.
Not a cell, a basement. She felt the rasp of cold stone beneath her fingers.
Cement.
Iron bars extended across the room and she tested their strength with her hands. They didn’t budge.
On the other side of her cell, she could make out the shadows of large cardboard boxes stacked in a haphazard pile along with rickety shelves lined with Christmas decorations and old junk.
Definitely a basement.
A small window sat high in the wall on the other side of the cell. Cara searched the entire length of the bars, tugging to test their strength. If she could break through, she might be able to stand on the boxes and reach the window.
Where was she and how had she gotten here?
Toni had warned her not to go home, but she hadn’t listened. Her sister always over-dramatized everything. Cara could hardly believe someone would try to kill Toni. She’d gone home, planning to stay just long enough to pick up some clean clothes and to drop off her school books.
Cara remembered walking through the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door, searching for something to eat. She reached for a bowl, but strong hands closed over her arms and a cloth with a horrid smell pressed across her mouth and nose. She struggled, kicking, scratching, trying to pull the rag away so she could breathe fresh air.
So she could scream.
Her head had spun dizzily. Her eyes dropped closed, refusing to open. Something drugged her. That horrible smell.
She fought off the darkness, but her movements dragged and everything went black. She’d awoke to find herself on the floor of this damp prison, shaking and frightened.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Let me out. I want to go home. Grams! Toni! Where are you?”
She slumped on the floor weeping, barely able to see the hand in front of her face. Wishing she could curl into her mother’s arms and tell her she loved her. That she was sorry for being such a brat and causing so much trouble for Toni.
Wishing she were anywhere but here.
Fear and loneliness made her shiver. She wished she hadn’t fought with Toni. She knew her clothes were immodest, yet she continued to wear them, daring Toni to stop her. And yet, she knew her parents wouldn’t approve either. But they were gone. So, who cared?
No, that wasn’t fair. Toni still found time to help with her Algebra homework and Grams fixed meals and did the laundry. Mac and Eric had both been kind, too. Even Aunt Holly and Aunt Chris took her shopping or gave her rides to the mall. Her family had tried so hard. All of them. And how did she thank them? By ditching her chores and disappearing on weekends without telling them where she was going.
It suddenly struck her how selfish she’d been. She’d made Toni’s life miserable with needless fights even when she was grieving over Eric. Pushing Toni’s buttons just to get a reaction.
�
�Please, God, if you’ll help me get out of here, I’ll change. I’m so sorry for everything. I promise…”
A sound came from above and the door at the top of the stairs opened. She sat up straight, blinking as a blaze of light shot down the steps.
She shielded her eyes as a man’s pair of legs appeared, then his torso. He wore a ski mask over his head and held a blanket in one hand, a dinner tray in the other. A tall, thin man dressed in jeans and a black sweater.
“Don’t cry,” his voice rasped. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
She came to her feet and backed away. “What do you want?”
“We don’t want anything from you,” he soothed. “As soon as your sister gives us your brother’s files, we’ll let you go. That’s why I’ve made sure you don’t see my face. So you can’t recognize me when we let you go. As long as you do what I say, you won’t be harmed.”
“We? You’re working with someone else?”
He didn’t respond.
“Eric didn’t have any files. Toni can’t help you,” she said.
“Don’t worry, she’ll find it for us. And then you can go.”
He slid the tray beneath the bottom railing of the iron bars. In the vague light, she saw a plate of spaghetti with canned sauce, two slices of buttered French bread and a glass of milk. Nothing like the homemade spaghetti sauce and meatballs Grams always made.
“You must be hungry. Eat and you’ll feel better.” He handed her the blanket through the bars. “If you lie down on the mattress over there, you’ll be warm. It’s clean. I even gave you a new pillow.”
He pointed at a slim pallet laid on the floor on the other side of the cell with a pillow resting on top. A porta-potty sat in one corner of the room. Without light, she hadn’t noticed them before.
He turned to go.
“Wait! How long will you keep me here?”
“Not much longer, now. You’ll be free soon.”
As he started up the stairs, she realized he would leave her in the dark again.
“Please, can’t you turn on more lights?”
He paused and turned, studying her as if with indecision. Then, he returned and passed her the flashlight. “There aren’t any more lights down here, but I can let you have this.”