They continued their hunched walk until they reached a chain linked fence.
“Is it electrified?” asked Sara.
Jaci grabbed a stick and threw it at the fence. It bounced off. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ll go through,” said Amanda. She reached out a finger and poked at the fence. When nothing happened, she put her hands on it and climbed up. She winced as she dropped to the other side. “I’m over.”
Jaci hurried after her, with Sara right behind. “Welcome to the road,” she said.
In front of them was a black top road. A few yards ahead, the road split into a fork, the left side curving around the hill they had just descended, and the right side leading away.
“Get across the street and into the grass on the right side of that fork as quickly as possible,” said Jaci. “Put distance between us and this mountain.”
“Let’s go,” Amanda said. “Speed walk pace.”
“The road should lead to a city. We find help and get home.” Invigorating energy pumped through Jaci’s limbs. We did it. We got away! “Walk in the tall grass. If you hear any cars, duck. And hope they don’t see us.”
Chapter 10
The early morning sunlight bathed the tall grass in an earthy orange glow. Jaci dragged her feet, eyes burning every time she blinked. She half slept as she stumbled through the grass.
Sara grabbed Jaci’s arm, digging in her fingernails. “Car,” she breathed.
The fog cleared from Jaci’s mind. “Hit the grass. Fast!”
In an instant, the three girls flew forward, falling flat on their bellies. The red sports car came to a sudden, sputtering stop next to them.
“We’ve been spotted,” said Amanda.
“Not yet.” Jaci tensed, peering through the thin reeds and pulling her elbows and knees up under her. “Get ready to run.”
The driver’s side door opened, and someone got out. Jaci watched in breathless anxiety as the person came around the front of the car.
“Super,” a woman said in angry exasperation. “Au juste de ce que j’ai besoin. Un plat.”
It was just a girl, in her early twenties, with short blond hair cut in a bob. She spoke French in a lilting and pleasant voice and was dressed in a stylish, tight red top and black, stretchy capris.
She knelt down to examine her tire, then went to the back of the car and opened the trunk.
“Anyone speak French?” Jaci mouthed at her friends. She received helpless looks and head shakings in response.
“Juste ma chance—et naturellement Chris a mon téléphone portable.” She tugged on the spare tire, talking to herself.
“S’il juste—” she grunted as she succeeded in removing the spare—“achèterait une nouvelle batterie, il n’aurait pas besoin de mon telephone.”
She dropped the tire on the road. “Je ne sais pas changer un pneu.” She threw her arms up as she grumbled to herself, coming back around to stare at the tire.
Jaci might not understand the words, but she knew the meaning. On impulse, she stood up. “I can help you with that,” she said very slowly, pointing from herself to the tire and back again.
With a gasp and a shriek, the woman jumped back, her hand going to her throat. “What on earth—were you hiding there?” she asked in clear, accented English.
“Oh, you speak English.”
“Of course I do.” She sounded insulted. “I am educated. Did you sleep there? There are leaves in your hair.”
“Actually, there are three of us. And if you’ll give us a ride into town, I’ll change your tire for you.”
The woman stepped closer to Jaci, cocking her head. “Wait a minute.”
She peered behind Jaci at the other two still hiding in the bushes. “Something’s going on here. You’re in some sort of trouble, aren’t you?”
“No, no trouble,” Jaci said, shaking her head. “We haven’t done anything wrong.” That part was true, at least.
The woman shrugged. “Well, okay. Sure, if you’ll change my tire, you three can get in. Just don’t get it dirty, okay, it’s my boyfriend’s car. My phone for his car, you know. Good exchange.”
“Not a problem,” Jaci replied, eagerly removing the jack from the trunk and grabbing up the spare.
She was suddenly very grateful to Tio Oscar for insisting she know everything about cars. “At least you have a full spare and not a donut.”
“What’s your name?”
Jaci hesitated as she unscrewed the nuts to the tire and began to jack up the car. Should I tell her? She couldn’t see any harm in it. But it wouldn’t hurt to play it safe, either.
“Julie,” she said as she pulled the flat tire off and put on the spare. “What’s yours?”
“I’m Natalie.”
“Hi, Natalie,” Jaci said in a cheery tone, concentrating on replacing the nuts. “Okay, that’s it. Good as new.”
“Thank you.” Natalie smiled. “Now I help you.” She opened the door and pushed the seat forward. “Into the back, girls of the grass.”
For the first time, Sara and Amanda stood up. Giving Natalie shy smiles, they climbed into her car.
A familiar black van screeched to a halt on the other side of the road.
Sara screamed. “Jaci, it’s him, it’s him, get in!”
“What is it?” Natalie cried in alarm.
“We’ve gotta go,” yelled Jaci.
The door opened and several men got out. With a stab of fear, Jaci recognized Claber at the head of the group. “Help us, Natalie,” she pleaded. “Those men will hurt us.”
“Hey.” Claber called in a friendly voice. “Where are you girls going?”
Natalie didn’t wait for him to finish. She shoved Jaci into the passenger seat and slammed the door. Running to her side, she jumped in and started the car.
He turned his back on them and reached inside the van.
Natalie hit the gas. Jaci glimpsed a small black square that Claber held eye-level between both hands and aimed at them.
Forcing herself to look away, Jaci stared at the speedometer. In a moment they went from zero kilometers per hour to one hundred, leaving the black van behind.
“Please don’t slow down,” Sara sobbed from the back. “Don’t let them catch us.”
“No one’s going to catch us,” Natalie snapped.
Coming to a T in the road, she veered left. The tiny sports car took the sharp turns easily. They pulled onto a highway, and within moments blended in with every other car on the road.
“Thank you,” Sara said.
Natalie slowed the car down to match the speed of traffic. “I hate reckless driving. It makes me nervous.” She shot a glance at Jaci. “You’re in trouble. Should I take you to the police?”
“No police,” Amanda said. “Not here.”
“You don’t want to go to the police?” Natalie sounded a bit suspicious.
Jaci stared ahead, not offering an explanation.
Natalie turned off the highway into a suburban area, arriving at a small, brown stucco apartment complex.
A pretty girl with pale skin and dark brown hair met them at the door of an apartment. Her smile faded when she saw the girls. “Natalie, ce quisur terre?”
“English, Rachel. They don’t speak French. I’ll explain later. Go back inside.”
Natalie ushered the girls in after Rachel. A wall separated the entry room from the kitchen. A staircase was visible through the kitchen doorway.
“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” Natalie asked.
“About twenty-four hours, I think,” said Amanda.
Natalie gestured to the couch. “You can sit down. That long? Rach, do you have any frozen pizzas or anything? I’ll pay you back. Do you have any clothes you might give away?”
“Yes,” Rachel replied, her expression stiff. “Are you being the good samaritain again?”
“Let us get some pizza going, and I’ll see what I can find out from them.”
Rachel got up from the couch, g
lancing again at the girls as she walked away. “There’s something familiar about them.”
Jaci felt edgy and suspicious. She shut her eyes and pressed the back of her head against the cushion behind her. She wanted to block out the memories of the past few days. The gunshot—Callie—
Natalie leaned across the couch, bending her head toward theirs. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on? I want to help. Your accent is American, yes?”
“Do you mind if I use your phone?” Amanda asked.
“To call the States?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“I don’t think Rachel’s cellular phone will make an international call. Let me ask.” Natalie walked into the kitchen and began to converse with Rachel in French.
The buzzer went off and Natalie came back. “She says she’s misplaced the house phone, but you can use it as soon as she finds it. Why don’t you call after we eat? Then you can shower and put on some nice clothes, and we’ll talk.”
Natalie had such a genuine smile. Jaci tried to relax. “Well, I guess that’d be okay.”
Chapter 11
There was nothing, Jaci decided, as cleansing for the soul as a shower and clean clothes. She sank into the clothing, breathing in the freshness. The soft, long-sleeved T-shirt smelled like roses. The shampoo-scented steam from the bathroom floated out of the open door, billowing into the adjacent room.
Sara was dressed in a tight pink blouse and light blue jeans. She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Amanda came in, wearing a baby blue T-shirt. Her hair was still damp, the auburn ringlets separating and framing her face.
“You look nice.” Sara smiled at her.
“You too,” Amanda said, smiling back. Then her face turned serious. “Sara, I just wanted to ask if you’re okay. I mean after—”
Sara caught her breath, turning her face away.
“I mean, after not sleeping all night,” Amanda backtracked. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” she said. “I’m doing great.”
Jaci winced. “So, what do you think of Natalie?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“She’s great.” Amanda spoke a little too loudly. “Callie would have something to say about Rachel’s eyebrows. Probably about them being too thin.”
Jaci didn’t want to talk about Callie. “I’m getting a glass of water. Be right back.”
She stepped down the stairs, relishing the feel of plush carpet under her bare feet. The sound of someone speaking rapidly and urgently in French attracted her attention. Jaci paused outside the closed bedroom door, wishing she could understand the words.
She went into the kitchen and stared at the cupboards, no longer interested in a drink. They needed to leave. She fled the kitchen and hurried back up the stairs. “Amanda—”
Natalie came in behind her. “Okay, girls. You’ve eaten the pizza and used all the hot water. You ready to explain who you are?”
“Natalie, we need to go. Thanks. Bye.” Jaci grabbed Sara and Amanda’s hands and tried to pull them from the bed.
Amanda jerked her hand away. “Now? But we should call our parents first.”
“Hey.” Rachel came into the room, her face tight. She turned her back to the girls and spoke to Natalie in French, waving a small piece of paper at her. Natalie took it and read it while Rachel talked.
“Explain this to me,” Natalie said, her lips drawn. She tossed the paper on the bed.
Amanda leaned forward and Jaci tried to peer over her shoulder. “What is it?”
“It is an insert included with the newspaper this morning.” Natalie’s demeanor was no longer friendly and helpful. “Well?”
Jaci read the flier.
Wanted for robbery
three housemaids, ages 16, 16, 17
Beth Thomas
Dana Adams
and
Gabby Athens
Reward: 500,000 CAD
Call (514)-555-1212
Officer Fayande, Montreal Police
And there was a picture of each of them.
“All right, girls,” said Natalie. “You have to tell now. Is it true? Is that why you didn’t want to involve the police?”
“Do you know how much money that is?” Rachel said, her face flushed. She reached up and pulled her dark brown hair off her neck. “We could buy a house.”
“It’s not true,” Amanda interrupted, shaking her head and waving her hands. “He kidnapped us. We’re just trying to get home.”
“Quoi?” Natalie said.
“She’s right,” Jaci said. “In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t already seen us on a missing person’s report or something. It was The Hand. Have you heard of The Hand? We’re from—where are we, anyway?”
“Canada,” Natalie said. “Victoriaville. Close to Montreal.”
“I was right,” said Sara.
Natalie looked at Rachel. “Did you find the phone?”
Rachel trotted down the stairs and came back with a cordless phone, slapping it into Natalie’s hand.
Natalie held the phone out to Amanda. “Not everyone pays attention to the American news, you know. Call your parents.”
Jaci shook her head. “We don’t have time. We have to go.”
“Why?” Amanda frowned.
“Amanda, I don’t feel safe. We have to go.”
“You’re safe here,” said Natalie. “Nobody knows you’re here. I won’t call him.”
“Do I have to dial anything special?” Amanda asked, staring at the phone.
Natalie shook her head. “No. It’s a more expensive call, but you make it the same way.”
She turned to Rachel. “Get the phone book. I want the phone number to the RCMP.”
Jaci jumped up. “No. We have to go now.”
Rachel came back into the room with the phone book. She tossed it to Natalie just as the cell phone attached to her belt rang. She silenced it, staring at the girls. “There’s the number for the RCMP.”
“Is that the police?” Sara asked, yanking a strand of hair around her finger.
Natalie shook her head. “Non, ma cheri. It’s the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. It’s like the FBI.”
Jaci stared at Rachel, something tugging at the back of her mind. Rachel met her gaze, then blinked, turning her eyes away.
“You called them, didn’t you?” She forced herself in front of Rachel. “You told them where we are. They are coming here now.”
Natalie’s eyes widened. “Rachel?”
Throwing her arms up, Rachel launched into a lengthy tirade in French.
“Forget it,” said Natalie. “They must be on their way. We leave now. And you are coming, Rachel.”
They all hurried down the stairs, back to the small red sports car parked in front of the building.
“Where are we going?” asked Amanda.
“My house,” Natalie said. “Rachel’s house has been compromised.” Natalie backed down the driveway.
Rachel’s cell phone rang, and she grabbed it with a gesture of annoyance.
“Bonjour? Oh oauis, salut, Chris. Ouais, elle se trouve ici. Nat.” She handed the phone to Natalie. “Speak fast. The battery is running out.”
She turned and stared out the window, her expression flat.
Natalie took the phone. “Chris, I cannot talk—what?” There was a pause, and her brows knit together. “Oh, no, Chris, these men are bad.” She hesitated. “You gave my address? No, don’t call them. I—no. We have to go now. Meet me at Den Lou’s in ten minutes.”
She closed the phone and glared at Rachel.
“What is it?” Rachel asked. “Are we going to eat at Den Lou’s?”
“They have my address.” She pulled back into the driveway, slamming the car into park. “They know this car. Rachel, get the key to your roommate’s car.”
Rachel jumped out of the car and ran back into the apartment.
A small gray SUV was parked in the driveway. Dirt caked the hubcaps, and paint flaked from the doors
. When Rachel returned with the key, they clambered inside.
“What’s going on?” Jaci asked as Natalie squealed out of the driveway.
“We’re going to Den Lou’s,” Natalie said. “About twenty minutes ago, two men showed up at Chris’s door. They told him I was in danger and they needed to secure my house. He said they were looking for my car, and he gave them my address. So we’ll meet Chris at Den Lou’s, and we’ll figure out what to do from there.”
“The diner isn’t open,” Rachel said.
“We are not eating, we just need to plan.” Natalie glanced at the girls in the back. “You’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
“If they’re even telling the truth,” muttered Rachel.
“Rachel, where’s the number for the RCMP? Let’s call them right now.”
Rachel arched a penciled eyebrow. “It’s in the phonebook you left on the bed.”
Natalie hit the steering wheel and said something in French. “Does anyone happen to know their number?”
“I don’t even know who they are,” Amanda grumbled.
“Natalie,” said Jaci. “We didn’t mean to get you involved in this. I’m so sorry. They know who you are now. Your names, your addresses.”
Natalie’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. “We’ll tell the RCMP everything once we’re far away from here. I trust them to protect us.”
“It’s a lot of money,” Rachel said.
Natalie glanced at her but said nothing.
Traffic was sparse, and it didn’t take long to reach the diner. They pulled into the empty parking lot.
“Chris isn’t here yet.” Natalie tapped the steering wheel uneasily.
A sleek silver car with darkly tinted windows pulled up and stopped right next to them.
“Is that Chris?” asked Rachel.
Natalie frowned and locked the doors. “I don’t think so. He’d have to borrow his brother’s car, and that’s definitely not it.” She put her hand on the gear shifter.
They watched as the passenger side door opened. In one fluid motion, a man in a black suit got out and grabbed the door handle.
The sunglasses might hide his eyes, but nothing could hide those fat lips. Grey.
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