by Lucia Sinn
Cara followed the boy and his companion as they walked to the edge of a bridge overlooking the falls. A shaft of sunlight forced them to shade their eyes, and Cara saw the glitter of a gold cross dangling from the boy’s left earlobe. Her heart sped up. Doug, for sure. The man with him looked older than she’d first thought. His pink scalp gleamed under a sandy buzz cut, and he wore a black T-shirt tight across his barrel chest. With broad shoulders and belted dark blue jeans, he was built like an inverted pyramid.
Now was her chance to check the truck’s license plate. She ran to the parking lot, squatted down to memorize the number, and raced back to the outhouse just in time to see the two of them walking back to the truck. Doug swung his spindly arms and strolled along as though he hadn’t a care in the world. In contrast, the man beside him had forearms so muscular that they didn’t rest easily against his body.
Cara dashed to her car and jumped in. But as she turned the key in the lock, she felt a jolt across her throat, forcing her head back. In the rear view mirror, she saw the Hispanic and smelled his beery breath in her face. Panic stricken, she pulled his arm from around her neck. But when she opened the car door, he yanked her shoulder and pressed the sharp tip of a knife blade against her cheek.
“Don’t worry, lady,” he said. “I’m not gonna rape you.”
“Then what do you want? Money? Look, here’s my purse.”
“No money,” he said. “Just start the car.”
Cara was shaking so violently she could barely get the key in the lock. “Where shall I go?” she gasped.
He grabbed a handful of her hair and twisted until her scalp burned like fire. “A little ways up the road. I just need a ride.”
Cara knew he was lying, but she had little choice with a knife at her throat. They’d gone about a mile when he told her to stop near a heavily wooded area. Through the trees, she saw the white truck parked in a black asphalt driveway leading to a one story brick house with a FOR SALE sign in the yard.
“Get out,” he said. “They’re waiting for you inside.”
Cara speculated on the scene before her. Someone’s idea of an idyllic country life had evidentially gone sour. The house looked forlorn and deserted, with closed draperies and pulled window shades. Off to the side, she saw a large empty swimming pool filled with leaves. No flowers bloomed, and the low growing evergreens along the front of the house needed trimming. As she walked slowly along the driveway, she glanced over her shoulder and saw the Hispanic waiting by the car.
Time to run.
If she could make it into the woods, she could probably get back out to the road and flag down a car.
She sprinted toward a thicket of bushes, pushing away branches as twigs snapped underfoot. In the distance, she heard the low hum of an approaching engine and felt a surge of hope before a spasm of pain hit the middle of her back, and her knees went weak.
Cara lay on her back, gulping air, aware that a man with a pockmarked face and small eyes the color of tobacco juice had his boot against her stomach.
“You’ll be coming with me.” he said.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m the guy you’ve been following for about an hour. Did you think we didn’t see you?” He grabbed her wrist and yanked her to her feet.
“What are you doing with Doug?” she asked. “Don’t you know the police are looking for him?” But before the words were out of her mouth, she knew there would be no reasoning with this redneck from hell.
The man pinned Cara’s arm behind her back, digging his fingers into her wrist and bringing tears to her eyes. When she tried to twist away, he shoved her against a tree and pressed his heavy chest against hers. His breath smelled like the manure in John’s barn.
“Move.”
Cara found herself looking into the barrel of a small handgun. He whipped it against her cheekbone so hard she saw stars. Swaying, she closed her eyes and opened them again. Blood trickled from her nose, tasting coppery as she tried to stop its flow with her tongue.
Her ears roared like a truck entering a mountain tunnel as she stumbled toward the house. Up ahead, she spotted two red foxes playfully running across the roof, and a bevy of ducks flying south in military formation.
The smell of mildew hit Cara in the face as her captor pulled open the back door and pushed her through a gloomy kitchen toward the front room. It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness.
Doug sat on a green plush couch—a long curving thing that occupied half the room and formed a recliner on one end. With legs propped up, he watched cartoons on a large TV in the corner.
“Sit.” The guy pointed to a folding chair across from the couch.
Cara sat.
“Why’d you have to follow us?” Doug asked in a high, shaky voice. All the starch seemed to have gone out of him.
“Why do you think? Everyone thinks you’ve been kidnapped.”
Doug took a long swallow from a can of pop. “So what?”
“You should call your mom this minute. She’s worried sick.”
“I don’t want to go back to that house. My stepdad’s a jerk and that Angie is a spoiled brat.”
“You’ve been planning to run away for awhile, then?”
“Not really. But when I met Tim in the bathroom at McDonald’s, he offered to get me out of town, and I took him up on it.”
Cara turned to Tim. “I don’t understand why you would do such a thing.”
Tim wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “He says his real Dad is rich. I’m thinking it should be worth a few thousand. ”
Cara’s head swam. Was it possible this Tim was so ignorant that he didn’t understand the gravity of what he was doing? “Is this your house?” she asked.
“Naw. I just mow the lawn. The owners moved to Florida, and asked me to look after things.”
“You live nearby, then.”
“What do you care? It’s none of your business.”
“I was just wondering what your family would say if they knew about this.”
Tim curled his upper lip, revealing a row of small yellow teeth. “You leave my mom out of this. I’m not doing nothing wrong. Doug says his dad will be glad I helped him out.”
“And you believe him? His dad doesn’t have custody. He’ll have to send him back here, even if you manage to get him to Texas.”
“If I can just get home for awhile,” Doug said, “I think I can convince the judge to let me stay in Houston.”
“I don’t understand what’s so bad about living here. You have your own room. And I know Tony Cabella well enough to know he doesn’t mistreat you. Seems to me you’ve got it good.”
Doug turned off the TV and scowled at Cara. “No, I don’t. That house is spooky. Something’s going to happen to Angie, and they’ll try to blame me.”
“Who would want to hurt Angie?”
“Look, all I know is that I’ve woken up in the middle of the night and heard footsteps in the hallway, and saw shadows outside Angie’s room. When they heard me coming, whoever it was ran away. And I’ve found things in my room that don’t belong to me. Like a baseball bat, when I don’t play baseball. And a pocket knife I’ve never seen before. Then, the other night, Angie found a dead mouse in her drawer. Who do you think they thought did that?”
“This is ridiculous. You can talk to your mother about these things.”
Tim went to the kitchen. Cara heard the refrigerator door open and shut, and the rattle of ice cubes. He came back with a large glass.
“Here,” he said. “I fixed you a coke.”
Cara felt a nerve fluttering above one eye. Tim’s genial manner didn’t ring true, but her mouth was so parched that she took a small sip. Immediately, she noticed a bitter taste and set the glass back down on the floor at her feet.
“Have you talked to Doug’s father?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“All right. Let’s assume you didn’t realize Doug is just a twelve year old ki
d. He’s tall for his age, you know. And let’s say you didn’t know the police are out looking for him. I could back up your story. If you call 911 right now, this can all be cleared up.”
Tim jerked his head around like a fish on a line. “Something wrong with your drink?”
“No, it’s just fine.”
“Then drink it.” Tim’s voice was harsh and demanding. Cara’s stomach tightened. She leaned down to pick up her glass then purposely dropped it. The coke and ice cubes spilled out across the floor.
Tim jumped to his feet and yelled. “Why’d you do that?”
She reached down to mop up the liquid with a dirty rag from the sofa. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m just a little nervous.”
Tim’s face screwed up with rage. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Doug walked to the window and parted the curtains, blinking into the sunlight. His lips moved in a silent conversation with himself.
“You’re too antsy, kid,” Tim said. “Why don’t you go out and shoot some basketballs while I figure out what to do.”
“Will you come with me?”
Tim looked at Cara. “In a little while.”
After Doug left, Tim used a clothesline rope to tie her hands behind her back and around her ankles before he went outside to join Doug. Cara twisted and struggled to breathe, her face hot and sweaty against the dank plush sofa cushion. Fear pulsed through her veins as she lay on her side listening to the slap bounce of the basketball against the driveway and tried to wriggle her arms loose. No luck.
Before long, Tim and Doug came back inside, smelling of male sweat and the outdoors. “Why’d you tie her up?” Doug asked.
“Just wanted to be sure she didn’t go no place while we was out playing ball.”
“You’re not going to hurt her, are you?” Doug’s voice trembled. He seemed on the verge of tears.
“Not unless she does something stupid. But what do you care?”
“Cause, she’s nice. I like her.”
Cara was stunned to hear Doug’s response. She couldn’t think of a thing she’d done to win his approval. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad kid, after all.
“I couldn’t take a chance of her getting away and calling the cops,” Tim said. “She brought this on herself. If she’d taken the stuff I gave her in that drink, she’d be asleep. I’m gonna take her back to Cataract Lake now, and then we can leave.”
Doug paced back and forth, cracking his knuckles. “You’ll untie her, won’t you?”
“Of course. Just help me get her to her car.”
Tim put his thick, meaty hands under her armpits and told Doug to hold her legs. Pain shot up her tailbone when they dropped her on the way to her car, and she bit her lips to keep from crying out. They draped her across the back seat with her sneakers up against the window.
Tim seemed very sure of himself as he groped in her jeans pocket for her car keys. She feared he might try and fondle her, but sex didn’t seem to be on his mind. The Hispanic guy suddenly emerged from the swimming pool area with a beer can in his hand. Tim started the motor while Doug climbed into the seat beside him.
Tim pushed him away. “No, you can’t come. They showed your picture on TV. Someone at the lake might recognize you. Jose will stay here with you. We’ll leave as soon as I get back.”
Panic gripped Cara’s body as they pulled out of the driveway. It was obvious that Doug’s abduction was no spur or the moment whim, but a well orchestrated plan. Was Tim really driving her back to Cataract Lake? Or did he plan to take her out in the woods and empty his semi automatic into her head?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CATARACT FALLS
TIM SLOWED DOWN within a few minutes and Cara saw the gatehouse at the park’s entrance. The rush of air from the open front window was refreshing. She smelled the lake and heard the sound of waterfall; it felt cozy and safe to be in her own car. Tim parked and got out. She heard his shoes crunching against the gravel, but was unable to lift her head high enough to see what he was doing.
Tim finally returned. He sat there for several minutes looking out over the falls, drumming his fingers on the dashboard. Relief washed over her as he reached back and cut the ropes around her arms and ankles with a pocket knife. He was going to let her go, after all!
“Don’t move,” Tim barked. Still holding the gun in his left hand, he turned the keys in the ignition and fired up the engine. Her heart thumped in her chest. If they were leaving the park, it could mean he’d changed his mind and decided to shoot her after all. She reached for the door handle, but he turned and grabbed her arm. For a fraction of a second, their eyes met and held.
“Bye, honey.” He pressed on the accelerator, jumped out of the moving car, and slammed his door shut.
Cara rose up to see her car careening down the hill toward the flimsy guard rail overlooking the lake. A scream erupted from her throat. She tried to climb in the front seat, but catapulted forward, knocking her head against the windshield as the car continued on its deadly path, crashed through the guard rail, and plunged into the lake. Within seconds, the car was over the falls. Water washed over her body, and everything went dark.
Cara found a pocket of air near the ceiling in the back. Tim hadn’t taken the time to close the front window, which offered her a way out. Filling her lungs with oxygen, she went under and swam toward the window. Miraculously, she was free, her jeans heavy as lead as she came up from underwater and into the mist.
Tim couldn’t know she’d escaped, or he’d shoot. She swam toward the bank, climbed onto a sand bar and hid under a thicket of bushes. Shivering, she saw that her car had disappeared from sight. Her wrist watch, fulfilling its waterproof guarantee, said 5:00 p.m.
She lay on the ground gulping air, warmed by the sunshine filtering through the trees. The shore was rocky and full of sharp twigs. She inched forward, trying to find a softer spot, when she heard a soft, low moan filtering out from the woods. Crawling on her belly, she made her way toward the sound, wondering if an animal was caught in a trap.
Through leafy branches, she saw a nude female and a tangle of long black hair. Clothes strewn everywhere. A flash of green. Hovering over the woman, a man’s bare ass pumping away. The entire scene was like watching a porno movie.
It was the couple she’d seen earlier. No telling what their reaction would be if she interrupted them at such a crucial moment. And what if Tim was still around? Those two could be in for trouble if he thought they might be witnesses. In the thick steamy air, dragonflies and mosquitoes nibbled Cara’s damp skin, but she didn’t dare move a muscle.
At 5:30 p.m., when the lovers were half dressed, she threw a rock against a tree trunk with a loud splat.
“What was that,” the girl sat up, startled, edgy.
“Nothing, just an animal.”
“What if someone saw us?”
“Trust me, no one is here. But I’ll go check, just to please you.”
Cara lay still with her arms outstretched, so the man could see that she didn’t have a weapon. He knelt down and looked into her eyes, his body pungent with sex.
“What the hell?” he said. “What are you doing here? Spying on us?” Up close, he looked at least fifty, with deep lines across his forehead and fanning out over his sharp cheekbones.
“Shh.” Cara put her finger to her lips and motioned for him to come closer. “Do you have your phone with you?”
He nodded, the anger going out of his voice. “What happened? You fall in the lake?”
“You didn’t hear my car go under?”
“I didn’t hear a thing. But I was busy.” He grinned. “I guess you saw us.”
“We need to call the police,” Cara said. “Right now.”
The young woman struggled to zip up her tight pants, and lifted her head to glare at Cara. A sheen of perspiration covered her red splotched face and neck. ”Who do you think you are, invading our privacy?” she asked.
It was on the tip of Cara’s tongue to ask how you co
uld invade the privacy of two people making love in a public park, but there was no use going there.
“Please,” she said. “let me use your cell phone to call the police. Someone just tried to drown me.”
“I’m sorry,” the man said. “But my cell doesn’t work out here. You’ll have to find a phone in the village.”
“All right, then, give me a ride into Poland.”
“No,” the woman’s voice was sharp, frightened. “Look, you weren’t supposed to see what you did. He…he’s married. And we both work in the same office.”
“I don’t care if you’re brother and sister. I’m just scared to death for all of us. “
The man relented. “All right, we’ll drop you off. But you have to promise you won’t tell anyone what—or who-- you saw.”
“How can I ever thank you?” Cara said.
“By saying you were picked up by a couple of old fishermen.”
“Will do.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EMERGENCY ROOM
AN AMBULANCE WAS not Cara’s idea of a joyride. She thought it ridiculous that a person who could swim away from a sinking car and manage to walk on her own two feet should be subjected to such an indignity, but McAuliffe had insisted. He sat with her now, next to a paramedic who anxiously watched her for signs of what, she didn’t exactly know. Apparently, her blood pressure was skyrocketing, which, under the circumstances, seemed fairly normal. Her ears were full of water and her mouth tasted like mud, but her breathing was fine. The rest of her body seemed to be in working order, although it was hard to determine exactly which joint or limb hurt the most. She supposed she would have bruises. But other than that, this seemed a bit like overkill. She was headed for the emergency room and, unless she could talk her way out of it, would have to spend a night in Intensive Care to make she was going to be all right.