“He didn’t answer the last three times, but sure.” He tossed her the phone. Reed had already called the state police. Surprisingly, so had Doug. Unfortunately the state cops were coming late to the party and the whole catch-up process would take more time than Reed could spare with his son missing and a resident killer on the loose.
Jayne selected the number from the outgoing-calls list and pressed Send. From the driver’s seat, he heard the call flip to voice mail.
“Didn’t even ring that time.” She left another message.
“I’m gonna stop at the diner. See if anyone saw the boys. We can try to catch Nathan there, too.” Reed jerked the gearshift into drive, and the truck roared away from the curb. “I could drop you off with Mae. She and her twenty-gauge would keep you safe.”
Part of Reed wished she’d agree, though he hated to let her out of his sight. Rationally, he knew she’d be safer with Mae than actively going after a psycho with him. The other part wanted all the help he could get to save his son. The decision was tearing his soul apart.
Jayne took the choice away. “I’m with you all the way. We will get Scott back.”
Reed had no doubt Jayne would do anything for Scott. Her face was full of the same fierce determination and strength as when she’d stepped between him and the coyote.
Love, fear, and gratitude continued to play tug-of-war with Reed’s heart. “Let’s try the diner.”
They arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later. Reed jumped down from the cab. Jayne met him around the front of the vehicle. From the sidewalk, they peered through the big plate glass windows. No Scott. No Nathan.
“You go in the front door.” Reed started toward the back.
“OK.”
Reed jogged around the building, entering through the rear door. He made a quick tour of the storage rooms, Nathan’s office, the restrooms, and the kitchen before sweeping into the dining room. He saw Jayne across the room, standing by the entrance. She shook her head.
Shit.
Reed scanned the dining room. Business was slow. Only three tables were occupied. Jed sat in his usual booth. Mandy balanced a tray in the aisle. She stopped at Jed’s table.
Reed careened to a stop, his boots squeaking on commercial linoleum. “Has anyone seen my son?”
Mandy slid the tray onto the table and turned to greet Reed. Her smile evaporated as she met Reed’s gaze. “No. What’s wrong?”
“I can’t find him. Is Nathan here?” Reed’s voice rose with his frustration, and Mandy backed away. Her baby blues went wide.
“I’m sorry, Mandy.” Out of the corner of his eye, Reed saw Jed getting to his feet, ever ready to defend Mandy. Reed exhaled to the count of three. His feet had stopped moving, but his body was strung tight enough to snap. He jumped as a weight settled on his arm. Jayne squeezed hard. Reed drew strength from the contact and wrestled his vocal cords into submission. “It’s important.”
Jed stepped up behind Mandy. With two hands on her upper arms, he gently moved her to the side so he could plant himself between her and Reed. “I left Doug at Aaron’s place. Nathan was supposed to meet him there.”
Reed caught Jayne’s eye and tilted his head toward the waitress.
Jayne stepped in. “Hey, Mandy, I could use a glass of water.”
Mandy backed away with obvious relief. She and Jayne headed for the kitchen. Reed dropped his voice to a whisper and told Jed about the photo.
“Son of a bitch,” Jed said. “I can’t believe Aaron would do something like that. The cancer must have rotted his brain.”
“I’m going to drive out to Nathan’s place. I have to find Aaron. Any idea where else he might go?”
Jed concentrated hard enough to make Reed’s head hurt. “How about his hunting cabin?”
Reed had no idea what Aaron was up to, but any kind of weird pagan ritual would need seclusion, more seclusion than Nathan’s house would afford. And tonight was the solstice. “Is it isolated?”
“Oh, yeah. Nobody goes out there. It’s not that far from Aaron’s place as the crow flies, but there’s no real road. Dumb spot for hunting, if you ask me. He’s got some woods right around the cabin, but the rest of the property’s too rocky. Not enough forage for game.”
A hunting cabin that wasn’t in a great spot for hunting. Sounded perfect for other activities that required seclusion. “Will my truck make it?” Reed asked.
“Definitely. But you might have to put her in low.”
“OK. Can you give me directions?”
“I can do better than that. I’ve got trail maps in my truck.” It took Jed a minute to fetch the maps from the parking lot. He spread it out on the table and pinpointed the cabin. “I could take you out there.”
Reed debated. “No. I need you to call this man.” Reed wrote the name and number of the state police investigator on a piece of paper. “The detective’s on his way, and he’ll need someone to show him where the cabin is.”
“Got it.”
Reed sure as hell hoped so. A lot of lives depended on it. Like Scott’s.
A buzzing sound from the floor caught Reed’s attention. Jayne’s phone vibrated at his feet. He leaned down and picked it up. The external display indicated a text message from the Philadelphia Daily Scoop. Why would Jayne be getting a message from a tabloid? With a small twinge of guilt, he flipped open the phone and pressed OK.
The message was only two words.
Got pics?
She’d lied to him. She wasn’t a travel brochure photographer. Jayne was paparazzi.
“Oh. There’s my phone.” Ice clinked in the glass in Jayne’s hand. “Must have fallen out of my pocket.”
Reed handed her the phone, still open to the tabloid’s message, wordlessly. Jayne’s eyes bugged. The color bled from her face. She opened her mouth.
“I don’t have time to discuss this now.” Reed cut her off.
Jayne swallowed. “But I can explain.”
“I said I can’t deal with this right now.” Reed’s teeth ground as he pivoted and headed for the door. “I have to find Scott.”
The cab of the truck had cooled in the brief time they’d been inside the diner, but the outside temperature couldn’t compare to the chill that had swept over his heart.
“Reed, I can explain.” Jayne’s voice was strained.
Without looking at her, he shook his head. Had she already sent the photo she’d taken of him to the paper? No point in asking. Her answer couldn’t be trusted. After all, she’d offered him an explanation, but she’d never denied her betrayal.
A moan woke John. Fresh pain blasted through his body, and it wasn’t just from the recent beating. His arms were tied behind his back and securely fastened to something behind him.
In a panic he took stock. Sky over his head, ice under his ass. There was cold air at his back, but heat from a bonfire five yards away kept him from completely freezing his nuts off. He kept his eyes off the fire so his pupils wouldn’t constrict. His vision focused on the ring of wooden posts.
The tremors that rushed upward from the soles of his feet had nothing to do with the winter night.
He knew exactly where he was. The same clearing where it had all started. Where Zack had died.
Panic ripped through him with a freight train roar.
His weight strained against the ropes that bound him to the post. Rough fibers bit into his wrists. Inside his chest, his heart beat against his ribs like a frantic parakeet, trying to break free of its bone cage. But he was trapped.
An icy crackle had John jerking his head around. The old man circled the clearing, chanting. John couldn’t make out the words, but they flowed over him like a hypnotic drum. The old guy was pouring something from a jug just inside the circle. Dark liquid glugged into the snow. It was a replay of that night with Zack.
Hard cold fact: he was going to die tonight.
John’s vision went red around the edges. The rushing in his ears drowned out the intonations. His head lolled to h
is shoulders.
But instincts were a bitch. And survival was the most relentless nag of them all. Even after all he’d been through, he didn’t want to let go. Neither did he want to face whatever horrors his captor had planned for tonight.
John lifted his head an inch. The frozen air caressed his bare skin. Another moan brought his head around to the other side. Two more forms were slumped in front of upright poles. His heart did a double take. Two more poor souls were going down with him.
And there wasn’t jack shit John could do about it.
He swiveled around at a scraping sound. His captor was arranging a limp body, a young man, on the flat-topped center stone strewn with pillar candles.
“Tonight we seek an ancient power.” The old man moved to stand in front of John. His voice was deep and accented as it carried across the clearing. He shoved a few dusty crumbs into John’s mouth. John tried to spit them out. The old man backhanded him across the face. Pain slammed through his cheek as the old man continued. “The power that rules all of the universe. The power that has united us all from when we received our first meal of blood in the womb.”
There was a rustling of nylon in the frigid night. The old man began to chant as he circled John.
“In blood we find peace. In blood we find nourishment.”
The old man moved behind John. A thin cord encircled his neck. His numbed skin pumped a gallon of sweat to its surface.
“In blood we find power.” The cord around John’s neck tightened. “In blood we are united.”
John’s neck was jerked back, his wind cut off. In his peripheral vision, silver flashed in the firelight.
Jayne gripped the door handle as the Yukon lurched to a stop in front of a dark rectangle. Neither she nor Reed spoke as they slipped from the vehicle and drew their weapons. Reed’s subcompact Glock felt secure, well balanced in her grip. She followed his instructions, providing cover while he opened the door.
His heart might have been lost to her, but she’d help him save his son.
The single room was empty, but the chain attached to the woodstove was an obvious clue. Someone had been held prisoner here.
Jayne’s stomach flip-flopped with pity and fear as memories flooded her. Someone else had suffered as she had, probably more. Her eyes found dark splotches on the rough wooden floor. Blood? Definitely more.
Reed motioned toward the door. On the porch, he stood and listened. Chanting floated on the wind. They both followed the sound to a game trail behind the cabin.
They crept down the dark path. Jayne tried to be as quiet as possible, but she was more accustomed to concrete than to forest. As they drew closer, the crackling of a large fire covered the sounds of their approach.
Two SUVs were parked in a small cleared area next to a stand of thick evergreens. One had a plow attached to the front.
Reed moved around the evergreens, using one hand to hold her behind him. Jayne tiptoed across the icy ground, testing each step and trying to avoid the crunchy spots.
Reed stopped short, reached a hand up, and pushed the branch of a Scotch pine aside. They both sucked in a breath at the scene before them, illuminated by a huge bonfire in the center of the clearing.
Six-foot wooden posts ringed the perimeter. Opposite the fire, three shorter posts formed a triangle around a body on a stone altar. And tied to those three posts were three people. Jayne squinted. The closest figure looked like Scott. From his slumped position, he didn’t appear to be conscious. At least she prayed he was only unconscious. The second figure, maybe Brandon, stirred and let out a soft moan.
The third was about to die.
“No shot. They’re too close to him,” Reed breathed in her ear.
A parka-clad figure stood behind the last captive. Red-and-gold flames flickered on a young, thin face and struggling body. The man looped something around the kid’s neck. Murmurs floated across the brittle air. Silver gleamed in the light of the blazing fire.
A knife!
“That’s Aaron.” Reed’s voice was barely a whisper.
Fear gripped Jayne’s insides and twisted. Aaron was going to strangle that boy and cut his throat. Her gaze darted to the stone slab. On it, next to yet another body, rested a wooden club.
It was the triple sacrifice, the bog body’s fate.
Jayne reached out for Reed. Her hand moved through empty air. She’d been so transfixed by the scene, she hadn’t noticed him slip away. Jayne lifted the pistol and took aim. Still no shot.
The boy’s head jerked backward.
“No!” The shout leapt from Jayne’s throat. Her feet started running toward the doomed boy before she could think.
A shadow burst from the trees and tackled the man with the knife. Reed! The kid slipped to the ground. Still attached to the post by the wrists, his body twisted awkwardly. Behind the boy, the two silhouettes grappled. Jayne’s vision tunneled down to the struggling men. Other than their grunts and movements, all sound was muted. In a surreal haze, she flew past Scott and Brandon.
Aaron lunged, weapon extended. Reed evaded. The knife slashed horizontally, level with Reed’s midsection. Jayne’s heart catapulted into her throat as Reed stumbled, then steadied himself with a palm on a wooden post. He swayed, reaching for the gun on his hip. The crazy man advanced.
Jayne’s arms extended. Her gun leveled itself. “Freeze.”
Aaron stopped. He turned toward Jayne, knife at the ready.
“Brigid, you came.” Cold blue eyes flashed. Forthright. Soulless. Insane. “We are honored. Perhaps you were not meant to die here tonight, but to bear witness to the ritual, to petition the gods for our salvation.”
How could she have thought she wouldn’t recognize the maniacal gleam in those eyes? The tip of her finger touched the trigger. The blue eyes shifted to look over Jayne’s shoulder. Aaron smiled.
Agony slammed through Jayne’s skull. Her world inverted as her bones went soft. The gun dropped to the ground next to her head. In her blurry peripheral vision, she watched the kidnapper’s gaze move beyond her. She swiveled her head.
Nathan stood behind her, a wooden club clenched in his hand.
“Save Evan. May my sacrifice save you both.” Aaron’s voice faltered, and Jayne turned back to him. His hand jerked. Silver flashed as he yanked the blade across his own throat. Blood bubbled down his robe and onto the snow in a dark, wet rush. His body tipped forward and crumpled.
“Jayne!” Reed’s voice cut through the shock. He was stumbling toward her, way too unsteady on his feet.
Jayne rolled onto her back and heaved her shoulders up. Her stomach tumbled. She gulped night air as she scanned the clearing. Nathan had disappeared. So had the body on the stone. “Where’s Nathan?”
“I don’t know.” Reed lurched toward her, his eyes sweeping the perimeter. “Let’s get these kids to the truck before he decides to come back and kill us all.”
With a still-spinning head, Jayne scooted to the first boy. His open eyes surprised her. Reed stooped and slashed the rope that bound the kid’s wrists. His hands flew to his neck, yanking a thin leather cord away. Thank God. Reed had jumped the old man before the garrote had done its job.
“Can you walk? We have a car at the cabin.” Jayne nodded in the direction of the trail.
Beneath the horror and pain, a glimmer of determination shone in the kid’s eyes. “I’ll get there if I have to crawl.” He choked the rough words out in a croak.
No wonder he’d survived.
Jayne glanced up. Reed had managed to rouse Brandon. The kid was on his hands and knees, nodding emphatically to whatever Reed was saying. Brandon pushed to his feet, stumbled, but stayed vertical with the help of the nearby post.
“Scott’s still out cold, but his breathing and pulse are steady.” Reed squatted and hauled Scott up and over his shoulders. He carried Scott, Jayne half-dragged Brandon, and the other kid staggered back to the Yukon on his own. Once the three boys were safely inside, Jayne jumped into the cab and locked the
door.
The landscape tilted as she straightened. Pain pulsed through her skull.
“Are you OK?” Reed leaned on the passenger side of the truck. One hand went under his jacket as he held the keys out in the other. “Because I think you better drive.”
Jayne’s eyes dropped. Dark droplets stained the white ground at his feet.
CHAPTER THIRTY
As soon as the truck hit pavement, Nathan pressed the gas pedal to the floor. A glance in the backseat told him Evan slept on, medicated and oblivious to the night’s disaster.
Gods be damned.
The last image of his uncle was imprinted in his head, stored there like a YouTube clip. Uncle Aaron slicing his own throat, spilling his own blood in the sacred circle.
Grief struck him like a blade to the chest. He knew his uncle was beyond his pain and suffering now. He was starting anew in the afterlife. And that he’d gone on his own terms. As he’d wanted.
Had Nathan been a coward?
No. He’d only followed his uncle’s last wishes, made clear the evening before as they’d prepared for the ceremony.
If anything happens, above all, save Evan. I am the past. He is the future.
How like his uncle to make the ultimate sacrifice for his kin. Spill his own blood in hopes the offering of it would sway the gods to cure their family of the genetic affliction that plagued them. He’d died as he’d lived, giving everything he had to save Nathan and his son.
Nathan let up on the gas as he approached town. No going around it. Huntsville stood between him and the highway. Between him and freedom. He needed to drive through as if nothing had happened.
As he drew even with the diner, Mandy emerged. She drew her knee-length parka tighter around her body and leaned into the wind.
Nathan didn’t think. He turned into the alley alongside the diner. She was his light. His hope. His destiny. Why had he pushed her away? He lowered the passenger window. “Mandy, get in.”
She jumped and swung around as if she’d been slapped.
Nathan checked the street in both directions. No one in sight. He jumped from the truck and approached Mandy on the sidewalk.
Midnight Exposure Page 25