by Laura Scott
“We’re always thrilled to have new members,” the pastor said with a smile.
“I’m just visiting the area,” Kayla felt compelled to explain. “I don’t live here.”
“That’s all right—visitors are always welcome, too.”
He was just so nice and earnest she had to grin. “All right then, maybe we will come back on Sunday. It was nice meeting you, Pastor Thomas.”
“Likewise,” he murmured. “Have a good day, ma’am.”
It wasn’t until she turned away that she realized she hadn’t offered her own name. Very rude.
She glanced over toward the tree where Brianna had tied Clyde, but she didn’t see the dog or Brianna. With a frown of annoyance, she quickened her pace. “Brianna? Where are you? Wait up.” Her daughter knew better than to take off on her own.
Certain she’d find Brianna and Clyde when she reached the road, she was surprised when there wasn’t any sign of them. Where would they go? Had Clyde dragged Brianna into the brush in search of a squirrel?
“Brianna?” she called in a sharp tone. “Where are you?”
No answer. Not even Clyde barking. Brianna might try to hide as a game, but Clyde normally responded to the sound of her voice.
A cold sense of dread overwhelmed her. Where were they?
“Brianna?” Kayla pushed aside the churning nausea, as she desperately searched everywhere for any sign of her daughter. She hurried down the road in the direction from where they’d come from. There was a rustling in the bushes on the other side of the culvert and she glanced over, her gaze narrowing. Was Brianna playing a trick on her by hiding in the woods? If so it wasn’t the least bit funny.
“Brianna, come out here right this minute,” Kayla said in her sternest voice as she walked directly into the brush, swiping branches out of her face with an impatient hand. From the corner of her eye she saw something, and she started to turn. But she was hit hard on the back of her head.
Blinding pain exploded in her head, and despite her fear, she couldn’t fight the darkness enveloping her.
TWELVE
Kayla moaned, blinking at the sunlight that pierced the back of her eyelids. Her head throbbed painfully, but she shoved the pain aside and dragged herself upright, glancing around in concern.
Brianna? Where was her daughter?
The area appeared to be deserted. She remembered seeing something in the bushes, but there wasn’t anyone here now. Someone had been hiding here. Had he hit her over the head in order to take Brianna and Clyde?
Panic gripped her by the throat and she fumbled for her cell phone. She needed to call Rafe. And the police.
She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small cell phone wrapped with paper. She stared in horror at the object in her hand. Not her phone. Someone else’s.
With trembling fingers she tore the rubber band from around the phone and read the note.
Don’t call the police or we’ll hurt the child and the dog. Wait for our instructions.
For a moment she stared at the block printing on the note, hardly able to believe what she was seeing. They’d taken Brianna? Wait for instructions? What kind of instructions?
Where was her daughter?
Instantly, she turned her eyes heavenward. Dear Lord, please keep her safe. I’m begging You, Lord. Please keep Brianna and Clyde safe in Your care.
Kayla stifled a sob and scrambled through the brush and up through the culvert to get back on the road. The movement made her head pound, but she ignored the pain. Stuffing the foreign phone and note back in her coat pocket, she pulled out her own phone. Tears kept streaming down her face, blurring her vision, but she brushed them away so she could see as she dialed Rafe’s number. She jogged down the highway, back toward the motel as she waited for him to respond.
“Hi, Kayla,” he said by way of greeting.
“Rafe?” she couldn’t hide her voice, thick with tears. “I need you. Brianna’s gone. They’ve taken Brianna and Clyde.”
“What?” Rafe flinched at the sound of Kayla sobbing in his ear. His plan of telling her what he’d found in Jeremy’s memorial evaporated at the news. “What do you mean they’ve taken Brianna and Clyde? What happened? Where are you?”
“We took a walk, not very far, and we saw a church.” He could barely understand Kayla’s explanation through her choked sobs. He was already in his jeep so he quickly turned the key and slammed the jeep in gear. He stomped on the accelerator hard enough to make his tires squeal in protest. “We sat inside for a bit and then afterward the pastor wanted to talk to me. Brianna went to get Clyde and suddenly they were gone. When I was looking for her, someone hit me over the head and left me a note and a phone. I’m not supposed to call the police or they’ll hurt her.”
Kayla broke down then, sobbing as if her heart was being ripped from her chest. He could only grip the phone helplessly. “Kayla, don’t. Please. I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay? Don’t go anywhere. Just stay there and wait for me.”
He couldn’t be sure she even heard him through her tears. He continued to repeat his instructions until she finally calmed down.
“Okay, but hurry.” Her voice broke again. “Please hurry.”
“I will,” he promised his own voice thick with fear. As much as he wanted to keep Kayla on the line, he could drive faster if he wasn’t talking on the phone. He snapped the phone shut and pushed the jeep as fast as he dared.
As he drove, his mind tumbled with questions. Why kidnap Brianna and Clyde? Because of the evidence they’d found in Kayla’s house? The photographs? How had Landrum or whoever had killed Schroeder found Kayla at the motel? Rafe made certain they hadn’t been followed. And he hadn’t mentioned the location to anyone other than his commanding officer, Luke Sanders.
He trusted his commanding officer with his life.
But had Luke talked to Evan? The hairs on the back of his neck lifted as a chill snaked down his back. Of course he had. Luke had mentioned how he’d updated Evan last night on the latest turn of events. Luke wouldn’t have thought anything about mentioning the name of the hotel where Rafe had taken Kayla and Brianna after the fire.
As much as he didn’t want to believe Evan was guilty, he couldn’t ignore the possibility. Especially now that Brianna and Clyde had been kidnapped.
Who else would have known where to find them?
Feeling sick to his stomach, he pulled into the driveway of the motel. He grabbed the notebook he’d found in Jeremy’s memorial and headed toward Kayla’s door. She opened it up as if she’d been sitting with her face pressed to the window watching for him.
“Rafe,” she sobbed, throwing herself into his arms. “They took her. They took my baby!”
“Shh, it’s okay,” he said, crushing her close as he half dragged her inside the motel room, kicking the door closed behind them. “We’re going to find her, Kayla.”
For a moment she simply sobbed against his shoulder, but then she seemed to pull herself together with a monumental effort. “Okay, what do we do first? Call the police? Or the FBI? Or do we need your boss to call them for us?”
He wasn’t ready to call his boss, not yet. He put his hands on Kayla’s shoulders and stared intently into her eyes, willing her to focus. “Kayla, I need you to trust me, okay? Show me the note and the phone.”
She pulled the cell phone and the crumpled note out of her pocket and thrust them into his hands. Rafe took the items, searching for any potential clues.
“This is one of those throwaway phones,” he murmured, turning the instrument over in his hand. The note didn’t reveal much either. He set them aside and picked up the notebook, handing it to Kayla.
“Here’s what I found tucked inside your husband’s memorial down at Pelican Point,” he said. “More evidence hidden by Schroeder. Names and dates and new identities of the criminals they’ve helped to escape.”
Kayla’s eyes widened as she took the notebook and flipped through a few of the pages. “Why would he hide this
in there?” Kayla asked in bewilderment. “I don’t understand. Do you think Bill was looking for a way out? Was he intending to eventually turn this notebook and the photographs over to the police?”
“Maybe,” he allowed. “But what’s important is that we have it now. And Kayla, before we talk to anyone else, we’re going to talk to Charlie Turkow.”
“Charlie?” She stared blankly at him. “Why? I don’t understand. We have to hurry. They took Brianna!” Her voice rose in panic.
“I know, and believe me, finding Brianna is my first and only priority.” He surprised himself by realizing he’d spoken the truth. He would do whatever necessary to get Brianna back. Solving this case had become secondary.
Brianna truly was his one and only priority.
“So what are we waiting for?” Kayla demanded in an agonized tone.
“We can’t just rush off without a plan,” he told her, tightening his fingers on her arms. “Hear me out. We’re going to find Charlie Turkow first. He seems to think that someone in the coast guard is working for Landrum. And I’m not calling my boss or anyone else in authority until we find out exactly who he believes murdered Schroeder. I need to know who he saw.”
For a moment she just stared at him, but then she nodded. “All right, but let’s hurry, okay?”
“Absolutely.” Rafe was glad to see Kayla was willing to trust him. And he prayed he was worthy of her trust.
Heavenly Father, please show me the way. Give me Your strength and wisdom to find Brianna. Please keep Brianna safe in Your care, Amen.
Kayla sat in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck with Schroeder’s notebook in her lap and the disposable phone clutched in a tight grip.
Inwardly she was screaming at Rafe to hurry. Everything around her seemed to be going in slow motion. She found herself pushing her right foot on the floor of the jeep, as if she could control the speed of the car through will alone.
Brianna. Sweet, innocent, Brianna. She needed to find her daughter.
She couldn’t even consider the fact that Brianna might be hurt. Or worse.
No, she had to believe the kidnappers would keep her daughter alive. A dead hostage wouldn’t help them.
She was glad, fiercely glad, they’d taken Clyde with them. At least Brianna wasn’t completely alone.
Clyde wasn’t exactly a guard dog, but he was loyal. He’d stay with Brianna.
“Are you okay?” Rafe asked, reaching over to put his hand on her knee.
Slowly she shook her head, a tear escaping from the corner of her eye to roll down her cheek. “We need to find Brianna, Rafe. How is talking to Charlie going to help?”
He glanced at her, his dark eyes intense with concern. “Trust me, Kayla. We’ll find her. Why don’t you look through Schroeder’s notebook? We suspect there is some sort of drop-off location, where they pick up new identities for the criminals who are being smuggled out of the country. Maybe Schroeder has put something in the notebook about it.”
She sniffled loudly and rubbed the tears from her eyes. “Okay.”
Before she could even open the cover of the notebook, though, the disposable phone rang.
She froze staring at the instrument like it was a poisonous snake that might bite her. In a panic, she stared up at Rafe.
“Answer it,” he directed her. “And don’t mention me. Pretend you’re alone.”
She took a deep breath, opened the phone and put it next to her ear. “Brianna?”
“Your daughter is safe in our care,” a mechanically distorted voice said in her ear. “And she will stay safe if you listen carefully and follow our instructions.”
Anger flowed through her veins. “I want to talk to Brianna. I want to know she’s unharmed.”
“Do you have the evidence?” the mechanical voice asked, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Answer yes or no. Do you have the evidence?”
“Yes,” she snapped. Was this some sort of weird recording? Or was she actually speaking to a person? She honestly couldn’t tell. “I have photographs and the notebook.”
She wanted to hear Brianna’s voice. She desperately needed to know her daughter was all right.
“Good. Listen carefully. You will call and make arrangements to obtain a rental car. You will leave the motel without talking to anyone. You will meet a man in a blue uniform at the corner of Dover and Barley in Green Bay in exactly six hours. You will come alone.”
“And you’ll bring Brianna?” she asked.
“Once we have the evidence, you will get directions to the location where we are keeping your daughter.”
She saw Rafe shaking his head—the mechanical voice was speaking loud enough that he could overhear. “No. Bring my daughter to the drop-off point, or I’m not giving you the evidence. I want to see Brianna.”
“Six hours. If you’re not there, we’ll kill her.” The phone went dead.
Kayla’s fingers went numb and the phone fell into her lap. There was a loud roaring in her ears.
This couldn’t be happening. They were stringing her along. Whoever had taken her daughter was going to kill Brianna and Clyde. They wanted the evidence, but somehow she knew that no matter what she did they were going to kill Brianna.
She burst into tears.
Kayla’s shuddering sobs were like knife wounds to his heart. He reached over to take her hand, keeping his attention on the highway with an effort. He was torn between pulling over to comfort Kayla and the need to get to Charlie as quickly as possible.
“Kayla, please don’t cry. We’ll find her.” He couldn’t make rash promises, but he felt certain he was on the right track. He intended to verify with Charlie that Evan was involved, and if so, he’d take that straight to his commanding officer. With Luke’s support they’d come up with a plan, mobilizing an entire fleet if needed in order to find Brianna.
None of which was going to make Kayla feel any better at this moment in time. He remembered all too well how awful it was to hold his wife in his arms, knowing she was bleeding to death and helpless to prevent it.
He glanced over at her, tightening his grip on her knee. “Kayla, listen to me. You’re not alone. Brianna isn’t alone. God is watching over her. Put your faith in God.”
Kayla’s shoulders were shaking, but after a few minutes, she managed to pull herself together. She swiped at her tears and sniffled loudly. “I know you’re right. It’s just so hard….”
“I know, but instead of imagining the worst, put your efforts into prayer.” Although he’d prayed to God that snowy night five years ago, Angela along with Josué had still died. He’d tried to understand why God had called his wife and baby home without him, but deep down, he’d railed against the wisdom of God’s plan. Still, his faith helped him through the darkest days. Knowing Angela and his son were in heaven next to God had sustained him.
“Okay,” she whispered, squeezing his hand and then letting go. “I just wish I knew where they’d taken her.”
“Read through Schroeder’s notes,” he suggested, knowing that having something productive to do would help. “Maybe there’s something in the notebook that will help.”
Instantly, Kayla straightened in her seat, her tears evaporating. She opened the notebook and began pouring through the pages.
He glanced at the clock, estimating they’d be at the lakefront within ten minutes. Once he knew for sure Evan either was or wasn’t involved, they’d head straight for the substation and Luke. There wasn’t a second to waste.
He pushed the accelerator harder, edging well over the speed limit. Why had the kidnappers given Kayla six hours to get to Green Bay? The situation didn’t make logical sense. Unless they had to bring Brianna in from somewhere else?
But they hadn’t agreed to bring Brianna to the drop-off point.
So that meant the kidnappers were someplace else. Somewhere far enough away that they needed time—six hours—to get to Green Bay.
Because they’re out on the water? At the drop-off point?
If so,
it was lousy planning on their part.
Rafe pulled into the Pelican Point parking area. Charlie’s boat was moored at the dock, thankfully. Kayla clutched the notebook to her chest as they hurried down the pier.
“Charlie?” Rafe shouted as he jumped from the dock into the stern of the boat. “If you don’t come out, I’m coming down.”
“I told you to leave me alone!” The old man came up from below deck, holding a baseball bat in his hand and staring with undisguised hostility.
“You told me to look in the mirror,” Rafe reminded him. “I did. I understand now that someone from inside the coast guard might be involved. But that’s not important now. What is important is that whoever killed Schroeder has kidnapped a five-year-old girl.”
“My daughter,” Kayla added in a trembling voice.
Charlie looked at Kayla’s tear-stained face and grunted something that might have been an acknowledgment or an apology. “So? What more do you want from me?”
Rafe reached into his wallet and pulled out a photograph of Evan that he’d taken on the first day he’d met the man. “I need to know if this is the guy who killed Schroeder?”
Charlie squinted at the photograph and slowly shook his head. “No. The coastie I’ve seen is always driving that big ole fancy boat of his.”
“Yancy?” Rafe stared at Charlie in shock. “Are you telling me the man in the expensive yacht is someone within the coast guard?”
“I’ve seen him wearing the uniform,” Charlie confirmed. “But his name ain’t Yancy.”
He already knew they were using fake names. So maybe Yancy was former coast guard? That would explain a lot, considering the coast guard didn’t pay well enough for a crew member to afford a yacht the size of Yancy’s.
“So Yancy, or whatever his real name is, might be a former member of the coast guard. Or he still has connections within the coast guard. And he must be getting his money from the criminal relocation business.” Rafe pulled out Kayla’s sketch of Landrum. “But this isn’t Yancy?”