Anywhere She Runs

by Webb, Debra

  Not again.

  He would find her.

  And when he did, he was going to give her a good shaking for scaring the hell out of him. And Clay, well, Clay was going to pay for a long time to come.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  11:58 P.M.

  “If you’re lost,” Adeline threatened, “I swear to God I’ll kick your ass.”

  “I know where I’m going,” Clay groused.

  She hadn’t taken his weapon. If they came up on Jamison, they would both need firepower.

  She hoped like hell that wasn’t going to turn out to be a bad decision.

  Unfortunately, this whole night was leaning in that direction.

  Her phone had buzzed a dozen times. Wyatt. When she determined whether or not Clay was telling the truth, she would give Wyatt their location, or at least the general direction they had taken.

  She sure as hell wasn’t going to have him dragging all of the Jackson County Sheriff’s Department out here if this was some bullshit Clay had trumped up. He didn’t appear to be drunk. Stone-cold sober, the best she could tell. But she knew her cousin too well. This could be some sort of elaborate hoax designed to make her look bad or to scare the shit out of her. If that proved to be the case . . . maybe she would kill him.

  “That’s it.” Clay pointed through the trees to a small shack maybe fifty yards ahead.

  “You’re sure?” The shack was dark. Moonlight filtered through the trees, making the outline visible in the near darkness. But she couldn’t see shit else. Singing River whispered in the background, the sound much quieter than in the summer and fall.

  “I’m positive. That’s it,” he urged.

  Adeline considered the options. It was best to go in under the assumption that Jamison was inside. “You move wide around the back. I’ll make my way to the front. Keep your eyes and ears open.” She sent him a hard look. “And for God’s sake, don’t shoot anywhere near my position.”

  He nodded. “Got it.”

  This still felt wrong. But maybe it was the whole idea of working with Clay. The last time she’d been involved with a member of the Cooper clan, Gage had ended up dead.

  Some part of her kept screaming, “Setup!

  If there was any chance Prescott and Arnold were in there, she was seeing this thing through.

  Clay disappeared into the darkness. Adeline did the same. She hunkered low, moved through the saw grass and underbrush. She wasn’t going to make being a target easy for either of those bastards.

  She cringed at the sounds Clay continued to make. Damn it. Did the guy not know how to move with any stealth?

  Making scarcely a sound, she eased closer to the front of the shack. Anticipation seared in her blood, making her heart pump faster. There appeared to be a window on the side closest to her position but it had been boarded shut.

  When she’d reached the west side of the structure, she moved in close, flattened against the rustic wall. She held her breath and listened. The cold night air stirred, rubbing the branches of trees together. The constant hum of the river filled the air with its melody beyond that. Clay muttered a curse, the sound carried in the darkness. No sound inside the shack.

  Keeping her back against the wall, she eased around to the front. The door didn’t have a knob or lock. Just a loop of rope hooked over a wooden dowel protruding next to the opening.

  Still no noise other than those nature made. She crept to the left side of the door, reached across it and unlooped the rope. She held her breath. Still not the slightest noise inside.

  Using her left hand, she slid her flashlight from her back pocket. She slammed the butt of the flashlight into the door, sending it flying inward.

  No reaction.

  If this place was deserted, Clay Cooper was so fucked.

  She rolled her body toward the edge of the door opening, roved the flashlight’s beam over the interior.

  The light pooled on a body.

  Adeline froze . . . let the light linger there. Definitely female. Blond hair. Her pulse rate jumped into overdrive. Victim was breathing. But she hadn’t moved.

  She shifted the light to the left.

  Eyes, wide with fear, reflected the light.

  The woman whimpered as best she could with the gag stuffed into her mouth.

  Blond. Adeline studied her face. Cherry Prescott.

  And she was alive. Relief flooded Adeline.

  With one last look around the area behind her, Adeline moved into the shack. “I’m Detective Cooper,” she announced. “I’m here to help you.” Ignoring the desperate sounds Prescott made, Adeline checked the small room. The smell of feces and urine were overwhelming. Feeding bowls sat on the floor between the women. At least he hadn’t left them here to starve.

  Adeline, her weapon still palmed, moved to where Prescott huddled on the floor. “Don’t be afraid. You’re gonna be okay now,” she said gently as she surveyed the woman for injury. Then she moved to Penny Arnold who had started to move about. “Ms. Arnold?” She scanned her for injury, as well. No visible injuries.

  Arnold struggled to a sitting position and started sobbing.

  Adeline inspected the shackles. Attached to a wooden support beam with a length of chain and a heavy-duty lock. She would need tools to get them loose. Or a key.

  Time to call in reinforcements. Adeline knelt down, one knee on the floor, the other braced for rapid movement. She set her flashlight on the floor and pulled out her phone. She depressed the call button twice. “I’m calling help,” she assured the two women now staring at her.

  Prescott started to whine frantically.

  “Hold on,” Adeline urged, “we’re going to get you out of here.”

  The desperate sounds escalated. A creak splintered the air. Her weapon leveled, Adeline twisted at the waist to see if it was Clay.

  Clay kicked her in the side of the head.

  Addy lost her balance. Her phone flew from her hand and spun across the floor. She rolled to her back just as he moved over her. She kicked him in the crotch.

  Clay howled.

  She shot to her feet. Though he was still standing, he struggled to unfold his body.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” She rammed the weapon into the side of his head.

  Clay laughed. “He’s coming.” He looked up at her, nodded knowingly. “He comes back every night about this time and you’re going to be here waiting for him. The problem is, you’re going to be dead already.”

  “Funny.” She smirked. “I’m the one with the gun to your fucking head.”

  Clay groaned, straightened up. His right arm came up, and the business end of the weapon he’d been hiding between his legs leveled on Adeline’s chest.

  “Well, well.” She took a step away from him. “You sure you know how to use that thing?”

  He swung the barrel toward Prescott. “How ’bout I shoot her right now and we’ll see who flinches.”

  “You’re bluffing.” Adeline’s finger twitched with the urge to pull the trigger. She couldn’t kill him. Goddamn it. Going down that road again . . . no way. But they had the proverbial Mexican standoff.

  She could shoot him in the leg. Or maybe the dick.

  He drew the hammer back. “Say good-bye to your big sister, Addy.” Prescott tried to scream; the sound came out strangled and muffled. “Now give me your gun or I’m going to shoot that pathetic bitch.”

  Adeline placed her weapon on the floor and kicked it across the room. “You want it, you go get it.” She wouldn’t need her weapon to take care of this dumb fuck. All she needed was for him to put down his guard. Now that she was unarmed, he would.

  Clay shifted the aim of his .357 to her. “In a minute. Now get over there on the floor with your sisters.” He snickered. “I always knew you couldn’t be one of us. Guess I was right.”

  “Whatever you say.” Moving backward so she didn’t have to turn her back on him, Adeline kept her hands up. “What do you think you’re accomplishing here, Clay? You owe
this guy something? Maybe he sucked your dick once?”

  He laughed. “Have your fun while you can, Addy. This was all meant to be. I knew some freak was watching you. The cops found your picture in his car. I just didn’t know he had anything to do with this until I came out here to see if this place was still standing.” He gestured to Prescott and Arnold. “Then I overheard your crazy old momma telling my daddy about how someone had found out the truth about you being adopted. When you showed up, I knew this was my chance to see that you got what you deserved.”

  Adeline let the remark about her mother go, she would get him for that later. “Why don’t you let Prescott and Arnold go? This is really between me and you, right?”

  “No way.” He shook his stupid head. “What I’m doing is getting you the hell out of my life for good. You’re going to die tonight, cuz.” He smiled. “That psycho brother of yours would never have gotten to you the way Henderson has been all over you. I just made his job a little simpler. This way, I get rid of you and nobody ever has to know I had anything to do with it. That keeps the old man off my back.”

  “Well, aren’t you smart,” Adeline mused. “I guess everyone’s been wrong about you. You aren’t the stupid brother.”

  His lips twisted. “At least I won’t be dead. It’s so sad,” he mocked. “The police will finally find the three of you and you’ll all be dead. Too bad, too sad.”

  Adeline wondered briefly where the boy was. She hoped if he wasn’t here that meant he was safe.

  When she’d positioned herself in front of the women, she asked, “You’ve got me where you want me, Clay. I guess you can go.” Time to use a little reverse psychology. “You wouldn’t want to risk getting caught here if Wyatt shows up. You know it’ll only be a matter of time before they find us.”

  He moved his head back and forth. “But he will get here first. It’s almost time. He’s always on time.” Clay hitched his head toward the door. “I’ll just hang around out there in the woods so I can see his reaction when he finds you here.” He laughed. “I wish I had a camera. A bittersweet family reunion. Now sit,” he ordered Addy.

  She kept her hands up as she dropped to her knees on the floor. She sat back, drawing one knee up in a stance that would allow her to shoot to her feet more quickly.

  “Good.” Clay reached down and snagged the flash-light. “I’ll be watching.” He ran the beam of light over the floor until he spotted her weapon and cell phone, picked both up, and shoved them into his waistband. He gestured to Prescott then Arnold. “Doesn’t look like they’ll be going anywhere.” He focused on Addy. “You could leave them to fend for themselves and run before the bastard gets here,” he offered. “You might even get away. I’m not the best shot in the county. It’s a risk you might decide to take. After all, that’s what you do, isn’t it, Addy? Run.”

  A shadow blocked the moonlight filtering through the open door. Adeline’s heart lurched. Clay, apparently, recognized the danger at about the same time she did. He wheeled around, actually squeezed off a shot.

  Something sliced through the air, slammed into Clay’s temple. He lurched sideways, then crumpled to the floor. A baseball bat clanged down next to him.

  Adeline lunged forward. Two hands rammed her shoulders and shoved her backward. She landed on her ass. She scrambled to a better position. The flashlight had rolled across the floor, its beam highlighting the bastard.

  Tall, bald, and looking furious, Daniel Jamison surveyed the situation as he dragged a gun from his waistband. “Thanks for making this easy,” he said to Clay’s motionless body. Then he looked at Adeline and the others and smiled. “All the princesses in a row. Perfect.”

  He kicked Clay in the ribs to see if there would be a reaction. Clay’s body bounced with the impact but he didn’t grunt. Just lay there.

  Clay had taken her weapon. Damn it.

  Jamison dropped the bag he carried on the floor and motioned to Addy with his gun. “You. Get up.”

  She pushed to her feet, squared her shoulders. “I don’t know why you think it’s necessary to finish your father’s work. You saved us once . . . why would you do this now?” Reasoning likely wouldn’t get anywhere with this guy, but the longer she could keep him talking, the more time she had to formulate a plan.

  He laughed. “You were too young to remember how it was, so don’t pretend to know what you’re talking about. You have no idea.” He took a step back and pointed to the sports-type bag he’d dropped on the floor. “Open the bag.”

  Addy moved toward him, took a long hard look at the man who was her brother. He’d rescued his sisters as a child, surely some part of that good still survived deep inside him. She lowered to her knees and opened the bag. More chains and shackles.

  “Get the key from the bottom of the bag.”

  She dug around, found the key.

  “Now put on a pair of those cuffs.”

  She pulled the length of chain from the bag. Seven, eight feet long. Three sets of cuffs were attached to the length of chain. He was going to shackle them together. Shit.

  “I’ve been watching you for days,” he told her. “Trying to find the right time. Imagine my surprise when fuckup over there did my work for me. Looks like I’m not the only family who had it in for you.”

  Her fingers cold as ice, Adeline ignored him and slid two of the iron bracelets onto her wrists then clicked them shut. She lifted her gaze to his. “Yeah, yeah, the story of my life.” Then she dared to smile. “Maybe I’ll have the pleasure of doing to you what I did to fuckup’s brother.”

  The front of his hand smacked across her face. Adeline rode out the wave of pain, licked the blood from her lip. “You know, if you were a real man you wouldn’t have picked on a poor old lady in the hospital.” Bastard.

  He laughed. “I did that just for you, little sis.” He smiled. “I knew you’d love it.”

  Fury bolted through Adeline. He was dead.

  “Now take the key and release Prescott. Put the next set of cuffs on her.”

  Adeline lugged the chain toward Prescott. The woman sobbed harder, shook her head. Adeline produced a smile. “It’s gonna be all right,” she whispered as she unlocked the cuffs already on the woman’s wrists. Her wrists were scraped and bloody.

  “Put those on her wrists before you release her ankles,” the bastard ordered.

  Adeline did as she was told, the whole time whispering reassurances. When she’d finished with Prescott, he ordered her to do the same to Arnold. As she obeyed his order, she watched him remove her weapon from Clay’s waistband and store it in his own. Damn it.

  “Now stand up and make a line.”

  Adeline moved toward him, the other women in tow.

  He pointed the gun at Addy’s chest. “I want you at the back of the line.”

  She shrugged, circled around behind the others so that Arnold was closest to him.

  Arnold dropped to her knees sobbing, the sound choking around the gag in her mouth.

  “Get up!”

  The woman curled into a ball, her sobs pitching to a new frantic level.

  “Get up!” He kicked her in the back.

  Adeline started forward.

  “Don’t fucking move,” he ordered. Keeping an eye on her, Jamison dug around in his bag and pulled out three tiaras. He placed one atop each woman’s head.

  Arnold sobbed even harder. Adeline wanted to demand that he remove the women’s gags but she was afraid if she brought it up, he’d shove one in her mouth. Someone needed to be able to scream.

  “Get her up,” Jamison ordered Prescott. “Or I’ll kill her here and you can drag her to the river.”

  Prescott reached down, helped Arnold to her feet. Jamison grabbed the end of the chain near Arnold’s cuffs. “Now, stay in a line right behind me. Anybody falls down or stops, I’ll blow your fucking head off.” His mouth cut into a grin. “Be hard to wear your tiara then.”

  Flashes from her dream swam in front of Adeline’s eyes. He was taking them to t
he water . . . Nichols’s words bobbed to the surface of those churning memories.

  The women are being held close to the water . . . if you don’t find them soon they’ll be under the water.

  Adeline glanced longing at her stupid-ass cousin as Jamison dragged them out of the shack.

  Poor Clay. He hadn’t gotten to enjoy the show.

  Think, Addy! The metal cuffs chafed her wrists. The December air was chilly. The full moon hung low in the sky. The distant hum of Singing River grew louder, threatening. Jamison tromped through the brush and saw grass, leading the way toward their doom.

  The panic started deep in her chest.

  The water would be cold and deep.

  The hands clutching at her in her dream were her sisters’. They would be looking to her for help.

  And she couldn’t help them.

  Adeline’s throat closed as the panic clawed its way there, urging her to scream.

  But there was no one here to hear. Wyatt and his deputies would be back at the other location . . . where she’d sent them. She prayed they would discover Clay’s truck, search the area until they found her Bronco.

  She swallowed back the defeat. She could hope.

  The roar of the water was louder now.

  They were close.

  Too close.

  Adeline kicked back the fear. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

  Not tonight. Not ever.

  He broke through the tree line and stalled on the river’s bank. The water was dark and wide, its song whispering to the air.

  Arnold fell to her knees, making those god-awful sounds. Prescott knelt down and tried to comfort her. Adeline ignored the tugs on the chain. She wasn’t getting on her knees again for this motherfucker. He’d have to shoot her first.

  “When I discovered you had grown up here,” Jamison said to Adeline, “I realized the setting was perfect. I had to get you back here. I knew when Arnold wouldn’t cooperate, Prescott would come here looking for you. All I had to do was wait and follow her here. I wanted to do this here.”

  “How clever of you.” She spat the words at him.