Perilous

by Tamara Hart Heiner

  “That’s it,” Callie said, her voice breaking. “We have to call someone and get out of here. Where’s the nearest payphone?”

  Jaci’s heart raced. The payphone stood fifty feet from the store entrance. We’ll never get there without being spotted.

  An electronic grinding noise assaulted her ears, then a bright flash. The streetlights and warm red glows from the mall went out, followed by all the lights on the block. Sudden darkness engulfed them.

  “How did that happen?” Jaci said. She could barely make out her friends around her.

  “Ha!” Amanda’s voice was too loud. “Someone knocked out the transformer for this block. There’s a conspiracy.”

  “Shh.” Callie waved a hand to quiet her. One of the men turned on a flashlight. “They haven’t noticed us. That door will trigger an alarm. The police will be here soon.”

  Jaci’s eyes were adjusting to the dark, and she remained riveted to the spot, staring at the flashlight’s distant orb.

  One of the men aimed the beam on the door while another one lay on his back on some sort of gurney, reaching upward to fiddle with the knob. A third shone a laser device through the crack between the door and the wall.

  The door sprang open. The men glanced around them before stepping into the store.

  “They broke in,” said Sara.

  Jaci’s heart pounded so hard that she couldn’t hear her own thoughts. She had the insane urge to scream at the top of her lungs. Thank heavens the lack of light and shadow of the alley kept them hidden. She forced herself to focus. Think. What’s the best thing to do?

  “Here’s the plan,” Callie said, chewing on her lip. “Somebody sneak over to the payphone and call 911. Everybody else stand close by and cover.”

  “I’ll call,” Jaci said.

  “I’ll keep an eye on the store,” said Amanda. “Make sure no one comes out.” She turned and started toward the door.

  “Amanda!” Callie said, gesturing with one hand as if to pull her back. Amanda didn’t even slow down. “Forget her. We don’t have time to lose. Let’s go.”

  They hurried to the payphone. Jaci glanced at the store. No one was outside except Amanda, back against the wall as she peered into the darkened opening.

  “Sara, watch Amanda,” Callie instructed. “Tell us if anything changes.”

  “All’s clear,” Sara said.

  Jaci reached up and grabbed the phone. Next to her, Callie gave a shriek, and Jaci jumped, dropping the receiver. “What?” she said, blood rushing to her head. She blinked as a flashlight shone on them.

  “Run!” cried Callie.

  Jaci whirled around to chase after her friends, suddenly aware of the sound of running footsteps behind her. Her shoe caught on the uneven sidewalk, and she fell forward, hitting her face on the concrete. She heard a muffled yell a few feet away.

  Behind her an engine sputtered and roared to life. Two boots stepped into her line of vision. She could see a figure fumbling with a flask and a small cloth. The man knelt next to her, dousing the rag with the flask and holding it to her face. She gasped, struggling against him. He pressed the rag over her nose and mouth, and an acrid burning filled her nostrils.

  She panicked, struggling for breath. He’s going to kill me. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and everything went dark.

  September 13

  Idaho Falls, Idaho

  The phone under Kristin’s pillow was ringing.

  Carl Hamilton sat up in bed and turned on the lamp. “Kristin.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Kristin, it’s one in the morning. Who would be calling you?”

  Kristin pulled the pillow off her head, blinking in the lamplight. “Hmm?” Her short blond hair stuck out in all directions. “Oh.” She lifted her elbow. “It’s your phone, not mine.” She handed it back and buried herself under the pillow again.

  Carl frowned and looked at the call log. Two missed calls, both from work.

  He swore under his breath and rolled out of bed. He’d forgotten he was on call. He was supposed to be off, but he had agreed to switch shifts with another detective at the department. He better watch it, or Chief would follow through with the threat to make him get a landline.

  Kristin was already asleep. How could she sleep like that? Flipping on the light in the kitchen, he held down the speed dial for the station.

  “Idaho Falls police dispatch.”

  “Monica, it’s Carl.” His voice was groggy with sleep. “Who’s working tonight?”

  “Carl, there’s a missing persons report for four teenage girls. Boss wants you on it right away.”

  “Lieutenant Stokes?” Stokes was over the detectives.

  “No. Chief Miller.”

  Carl straightened. If someone had woken the chief, this was expected to be hot. “How long they been missing?”

  “Four hours.”

  He ran a hand through his buzzed hair. “No answer on their cell phones?”

  “No cell phones on them, Carl.”

  He grunted. “Did someone check their boyfriends’ houses?”

  “No known boyfriends, either.”

  Carl frowned. “Is there a parent present?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. I’m coming to the station.” He flipped his phone shut and changed into a suit.

  Before walking out the door, he opened the fridge and scanned the contents. He needed brain food. His jar of bread and butter pickles was almost gone. He grabbed the baby dills instead and headed out.

  Seven parents waited for him at the station. He spotted them through the glass windows in the lobby before he entered the building. Carl opened the door, nodded at Monica, who was answering the 911 calls, and approached the parents.

  “I’m Detective Hamilton. Give me a moment to get briefed on the situation, and then I’ll sit with you and ask a few questions.”

  He motioned to a corner of the room. “We have a coffee pot and sugar. Help yourselves.”

  “Monica.” Carl leaned his head toward the opening in the plastic window. “Who took the call?”

  She took a sip from her white Styrofoam cup, leaving red lipstick on the rim. “I did.”

  “Okay. Tell me what happened.”

  She hit a switch on the computer, pulling up a black screen with green letters. “The 911 call came in at ten thirty-two. Woman hysterical. She had left her daughter and three friends at the mall. There was an accident on Yellowstone Highway outside of Shelley around ten to nine, and both lanes of traffic were closed for thirty minutes. By the time she reached the mall, it was nine forty and the girls were nowhere. I asked her if they were sitting in the shadows. She said she’d checked. I asked her to check the local gas station. She said she had. I asked her to call their friends. She said she’d called her husband and had him call everyone. At this point she was ballistic. I sent a patrol to the mall to scout the area and bring her back to the station.”

  Ten thirty. That was two and a half hours ago. “Did they find anything?”

  “No. Everything appeared normal. But the mother said the street lamps were off. She said they turned back on around ten o’clock.”

  “And the mall security guard? What did he say? Did he see them?”

  Monica raised a thin, penciled eyebrow. “The patrol couldn’t find him.”

  Carl nodded, making a list in his mind. Suspect number one. “I’ll go speak to the parents.”

  Stepping back into the lobby, he pulled up a chair to the shaking mass of parents in front of him. “Please sit down. I know this is very hard on you.” He used his most sensitive tone.

  The parents sat in pairs, except one woman. Carl pulled out his notepad. “I’m going to ask a couple of questions. Please don’t be offended, and I’d appreciate it if you answer as truthfully as possible.”

  One man stood up, his face twisting. Stubble the color of red clay dotted his face. “We don’t have time for questions. You need to be out there, looking for them.” He pointed his hand out the door.r />
  Carl met the man’s eyes and spoke calmly. “We’ve got officers out looking. The more information you give me, the easier it will be for me to do my job.”

  “Jacob, sit,” his wife said, turning tired eyes up at him. Her curly blond hair fell in disorganized ringlets around her neck.

  Carl eyed his notepad. “I know you already told this to dispatch, but tell me what your daughters’ names are and who goes to which set of parents.”

  The single woman cleared her throat. Her thick black hair lay in uneven waves. “Jacinta Rivera is mine.”

  “Sara Yadle is ours.” A man with dark brown hair and bloodshot eyes clung to his wife, a heavy woman with shoulder-length blond hair.

  “Amanda Murphy.” The hostile man, Jacob, deflated when he said the name. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Callie Nichols.” The petite brunette said the name with a sob and buried her head in her husband’s chest.

  “And which is the parent who drove them to the mall?” Carl kept his voice neutral. He wasn’t accusing anyone here, but they might perceive it that way.

  “Me.” Mrs. Nichols lifted her head, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “You were the one who went to pick them up also?”

  She nodded, biting her lower lip.

  “Do the girls have any other place they might hang out?”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Nichols said. “My brother’s lake. They were there earlier today. But it’s in Shelley.”

  Carl nodded and wrote it down. “What do they do for fun? Social life?” He included all the parents in this question.

  “Jaci runs track,” said Mrs. Rivera.

  Carl focused on her. “Where’s Jaci’s father?”

  “He’s out of town on a business trip. I’ve tried to call him, but the hotel number he left me doesn’t pick up.”

  “Any boys?” Carl threw the question out and held his breath.

  “Oh, no,” said Mrs. Nichols. “They’re too young.”

  Mr. Yadle nodded. “Sara’s not even shown an interest yet.”

  Interesting. He would check their ages later. He stood up, closing his notepad. “Thank you for your help. I’m going to authorize an all points bulletin. It’ll be all over the news within the hour. We have people searching. Please go home and rest. We’ll find your girls.” He shook each of their hands as they said goodbye. As soon as they left, he strode back to Monica.

  “Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” He wrote down the name of the mall on a slip of paper. “We’re going to issue an APB. If they don’t show up by tomorrow morning, I’ll interview mall employees. Keep the patrols out. Have them be on the lookout for parked cars, drunk driving, the usual.”

  “You think they’re out causing trouble?”

  Carl grimaced. “I hope they are. It’s a lot easier to reprimand a kid than to pull ’em out of thin air.”

  Chapter 3

  Someone was shaking her. Jaci opened her eyes to darkness. A cold metal surface pressed hard against her cheek. They were moving, a steady rocking and jolting, like a stroller going over a dirt path. She coughed in the stifling air.

  “Jaci? Are you okay?” Callie’s soft voice penetrated the darkness.

  Jaci tried to sit up, but a wave of pain and dizziness kept her on the floor. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them she made out Amanda, draped across some crates in front of her, auburn hair fanned out around her.

  They’d been kidnapped.

  Jaci fought a rising panic. She took several deep breaths like she did before a race. The throbbing in her head faded to a dull ache. The right side of her face hurt. She put her hand on Callie’s shoulder and hauled herself to her feet, being careful not to hit the ceiling. A sliver of light snuck through the cracks in the back doors, but that was it. There were no windows; they were in the cargo hold of a vehicle. “Where’s Sara?”

  “Unconscious. By Amanda. She got hit over the head.”

  Jaci looked at the light coming in the back doors. They had slept through the night. “Have you tried to get out?”

  “Yes.” Callie’s voice was a whisper. “It’s got a latch on the outside.”

  Jaci stepped over to the doors and peeked out. The blacktop road flew by underneath the van. She lifted her eyes and squinted against the light, unable to see anything except a few clouds. Wiggling her fingertips against the cracks, she tried to pry the doors open. No luck. She couldn’t even get her pinkie through.

  Amanda let out a low moan. She rolled her head to the side, then opened her eyes. “Where are we?”

  Someone banged on the wall between them and the cab. “Be quiet back there!”

  The van made a sharp turn and began to bump around, as if going from blacktop to loose gravel. Sara sat up behind one of the boxes. Jaci flew forward, hitting her face on a crate. The van stopped. Jaci stared at the wooden box in front of her, her heart pounding in her throat.

  The back door opened, displaying a broad-shouldered man with a small mustache. He wore baggy black pants and a dark green t-shirt. The sun reflected off his white arms.

  “Bathroom break,” he said in a gravelly, deep voice. “Take care of business and get back in.” He looked like an escaped war criminal, with buzzed dirty-blond hair and bulging arms strong enough to break each of their necks.

  Jaci followed Sara out of the van, keeping her eyes on the ground. They had driven off the road, into a cluster of bushes about twenty feet from the highway.

  The road curved slightly to the right up ahead, and a large red-sand rock formation shaded them from view. Wind whipped up pieces of dust and dirt into her eyes. She moved closer to Callie.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Callie said.

  Jaci nodded. “I know.”

  “If we make a run for it together, they won’t have a target. We can get away.”

  Jaci looked at her. How could she be so calm?

  “Will you come with me if I run?”

  Jaci nodded. “Of course. But make sure it’s the right time.”

  A shorter man with brown hair joined the big one at the back of the van, and they talked while looking over a map. The sound of another motorized vehicle echoed down the road, and both men turned toward the girls.

  “Steady,” the big guy growled at them, a warning in his voice. “Just act normal.”

  “A car’s coming. Now’s our chance,” said Callie. “They can’t shoot us if we’re running toward a witness.”

  Jaci froze, hardly understanding Callie. She wanted to try to escape now? With those guys between them and the road? She shook her head. “We can’t.”

  “Now, Jaci,” Callie said, standing up. “I need you. Come on.”

  Jaci felt her whole body tremble. She couldn’t. She was too scared. “Callie.”

  “Run!” Callie shouted. She turned and ran toward the road, waving her arms. “Help! Help us.”

  Jaci couldn’t tear her eyes away. She saw it as if in slow motion: the blue Jeep quickly approaching from the right, Callie running for the road. The big man pulling his gun from its holster and leveling it at Callie.

  “No!” Jaci screamed. The word echoed through her mind, ringing in her ears, and then Callie went down.

  The blue Jeep roared by, oblivious to the scene.

  Someone grabbed Jaci’s forearm and yanked her up. She sobbed, not bothering to lift her feet as she was dragged over branches and rocks. The man with the bulging muscles, the one who had shot Callie, tossed Jaci into the back of the van.

  “I warned you,” he snarled, spittle flying from his mouth, features twisted with rage. “This isn’t a game.”

  “Callie…Callie,” Sara cried.

  “Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up. Or I’ll shoot you all and leave you here to rot.”

  Jaci forced back her own sobs and turned around to stare at Sara. “Don’t cry,” she mouthed. “Look at me.”

  Sara gulped and stared at Jaci, her hazel
eyes filled with unshed tears.

  The door slammed shut, and they were in darkness again.

  “Callie?” Sara moaned softly.

  “She can’t be dead,” Amanda said. “Maybe someone will find her. Maybe she’ll be okay.”

  Jaci pressed her sleeve into her mouth and let the sobs spill out, wracking her frame. Dear Lord, why Callie?

  It was her fault. If only she’d had the courage to run with her friend, they might have reached the blue Jeep in time.

  Chapter 4

  Jaci guessed they had been traveling two days when the van ground to a stop for the fourth time. She didn’t open her eyes. It was cold now. She wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to keep warm. A constant pitter-patter on the roof almost lulled her to sleep before the vehicle stopped. Her stomach grumbled, but she didn’t feel hungry.

  The door swung open, and the man with the thick, muscular neck appeared. It was raining, and the street looked slick and dangerous in the black of night. He hadn’t pulled off the road this time.

  “Come on.” He waved a flashlight at them. “Take care of your business.”

  Another man joined him. Jaci hadn’t seen him before. He had shoulder-length black hair and was younger and shorter than the leader, but his wiry body was just as muscular. He moved his dull black eyes over the girls’ bodies and licked his lips.

  So there were at least three men in the van.

  Amanda moved out first, crawling on her hands and knees and then dropping out of the van.

  Jaci didn’t want to leave. It looked so wet and damp outside, but she knew the men wouldn’t wait. She pushed herself away from the wall, noticing that Sara hadn’t budged.

  “Sara,” she said, tugging the younger girl’s arm.

  Sara shook herself and crawled after her.

  The rain fell in Jaci’s hair and soaked into her clothing. The men stood along the side of the road and shone flashlights on them as they squatted in the grass. Jaci felt nothing, no shame or fear. Only the desire to get back inside the van, where she could close her eyes and the world would disappear.

  The two-lane road didn’t appear to be well traveled. There were no street lamps. The humidity and ample vegetation made her think they were very far from home. She saw none of the familiar junipers and sagebrush that littered the terrain in Shelley.