She opened the fridge. Several take-out containers now shared shelf space with a Sauvignon Blanc and a pint of real cream for her coffee. A cantaloupe sat next to some apples on the counter. They in turn nuzzled a still-aromatic bag of fresh caramel corn from a salt-water taffy shop in Depoe Bay. She was forced to pull over and buy some on her way home when the tempting siren smell reached through the car window as she drove by. Instigating a 25-mile-an-hour zone past the tourist shops was pure genius on the part of local merchants.
Taking her bachelor meal out on the deck, Logan sat at the cafe table and took a deep drink of her wine. Excellent. Red was definitely the correct choice.
An hour later, bean bowl and wine glass washed, Logan was back out on the deck, snuggled under her jacket with the bag of caramel corn, settling in for some forest breathing.
♦ ♦ ♦
7:15 p.m.
Up here, nightfall arrived fashionably late. And when it did, it snuck up on you. The sun played hide and seek behind the trees as it floated down to the horizon. Its light grew softer and softer, like a dimmer switch being slowly turned down. Bright patches of blue sky, visible here and there through the branches, faded to pale rose. Sunlit yellow leaves darkened into hunter greens, finally washing out into shades of grey.
The sun must have set, but it was in no rush to pull in its beams completely. As the forest hung onto the last vestiges of daylight, pine squirrels upped the volume, chattering and scolding, racing up and around the trunks of several trees, squabbling over territory until darkness muffled the scene. Somewhere, from deep within the forest, a solitary bird pierced the night with heartbreaking song.
Sitting in one chair, legs draped across the arm, feet propped up on the railing, Logan didn’t need the relaxation exercise. She was already there. Eyelids heavy ... warm under the jacket ... cool night air on her face ... so perfect ...
A loud knock rudely brought her out of her reverie.
She must have drifted off. It was really dark now. She opened her eyes and blinked. Nothing. No lights from the houses she knew were on the other side of the forest. No street lights from the distant highway. Totally dark. The kind of dark that ‘pitch black’ didn’t begin to describe. She couldn’t even see the trees a few feet from the deck.
She liked it, but it was a little unsettling at the same time.
Squeezing her eyes and shaking her head, Logan rubbed her legs to get the blood moving, then rose to go inside. She stumbled her way into the kitchen, found the light switch and flipped it on. She glanced at the clock on the microwave on her way to answer the door.
Who’d be stopping by for a visit at 8:30 at night?
54
No one, apparently. The porch was empty.
After trying several light switches by the door, one finally worked. An old-style carriage lamp came on at the corner of the garage, but only illuminated a few feet beyond the driveway. Carefully, she made her way across the porch and down the walkway. It had rained, releasing a sharp, woodsy smell from the bark chip in the front yard. She checked around the house as far as she could go without bumping into trees.
Maybe she imagined it. She had dozed off. Must have been a dream. If so, it was a pretty vivid dream. She’d never had one wake her up. After another couple of minutes of staring and listening for bears or raccoons, she went back inside.
Making sure the front door was locked and the garage light out ... another rule they had here to keep it natural—no outside lights left on all night. She went back out on the deck and listened. Just the faint sound of the ocean and Highway 101 in the distance. Placing her hands in the small of her back, Logan arched into a good stretch. When she looked up, she gasped.
The sky above her was jam packed with stars. Bright ones overlapped with faint ones, some groupings looked like constellations, but she couldn’t remember what they were called. Maybe Orion. She tried to find the Big Dipper. That bright star must be Venus—not a star at all. She vaguely remembered planets didn’t twinkle.
She stared until her neck started to cramp. Rubbing the muscles she could reach, satisfied there wasn’t anything else she could check tonight, Logan picked up her wine glass and went inside, pulling the heavy, sliding glass door closed behind her. Dutifully, she placed the wooden dowel she removed earlier, snugly in the track as she found it.
Back in her room, she splashed her face at one of the sinks and swirled some water in her mouth in lieu of brushing her teeth. She was lights out, snuggled under the covers, and sinking into sleep in less than five minutes.
♦ ♦ ♦
Logan sat up, fully awake. Slightly disoriented, she fumbled for her phone to see the time. Not finding the phone, she patted the bed next to her pillow for her Kindle and flipped open the cover. The bright screen displayed the last page she read. Tapping the upper inch of the screen, she got the home page, which had all the settings and navigation features, including the time. Blinking her eyes into focus, she squinted.
Almost midnight.
Just as she was shutting the Kindle down, throwing herself back on the bed, she what looked very much like a man climbing in the window. Back to her, he was crouched low, reaching in with his left foot, straightening slowly to his full height.
Tall, dark and the scariest thing she’d ever seen.
The man in the Jeep. Lori’s attacker. It was him, she was sure of it, but how had he found her? She didn’t have to guess what he was after.
Reacting purely on instinct, Logan threw off the covers and hit the floor running, Kindle tumbling to the floor. By the time she reached the living room, she could hear him thudding down the hallway after her. No reason to be quiet now.
Scooping up the flash drive and her phone off the coffee table on her way, she threw the deadbolt, swung open the front door, and launched herself off the porch into the darkness. Hopefully, he wouldn’t take the time to find the light switch.
He did.
Logan turned back and saw the ferocious, determined look on her pursuer’s face.
Thundering down the wooden stairs, he was right behind her. Knowing she was in full sight where she was, Logan hesitated for only a split second, then turned left, stuffing the flash drive and phone into her pocket as she ran. She only knew one path that led into the forest. The boardwalk she took this morning, two houses down. It was easy to find, even in the dark, and not one the man would be familiar with, but she hadn’t counted on how loud she would be. The wooden boards magnified every pounding step as she fled.
She had to get off this thing. It would lead him right to her. But there was nothing but untracked forest on either side. She’d break an ankle in the dark if she tried to run in there. He was gaining on her. Any second now she expected to be grabbed. She had no illusions she could fight off a grown man. She had to hide somewhere until hopefully he gave up, and she could go for help.
There was a bridge up here somewhere, with a little stream running under it through tree roots and giant ferns. Her ears picked up the faint burbling sound up ahead. She’d just have to risk it.
Wishing she could see where she was jumping, Logan took a leap of faith off the path, towards the sound of water. At the last second, she remembered to try to land with most of her weight on her left leg.
It took less time to reach the ground than she expected. When she did, blinding pain took her breath away. Her right foot hit something on the way down, glancing off a tree root or downed nurse log, jamming her knee. Staying low, moving as quietly as she could, she crawled forward in the dark, ignoring the stabbing pain, towards the sound of rushing water. When she got to the bank of the stream, she made herself as small as she could, pulling herself under some kind of bush or fern. Sound carried in the forest. She could hear her attacker’s footsteps slow, then stop.
Heart pounding, Logan tried to breathe as slowly and evenly as she could. Maybe she made it. But where was this
guy? She would feel better if she could hear his footsteps running away, fading into the distance.
You’re not that lucky, Logan.
She’d just have to wait it out. She couldn’t run anyway. At least her clothing was dark. She wished she could rub mud on her face. And her feet. She could feel the air caressing her ankles, but was afraid to pull them in closer.
Willing her body to stillness, Logan focused on slowing her breath, keeping it shallow, counting...
Ten in … ten out. Ten in ... ten out ... ten ...
It was quiet. Too quiet. Then she saw the last thing she wanted to see. A narrow beam of yellow light began methodically zigzagging down the hill, exposing everything in its path.
Reading her mind, the man’s disembodied voice said, “Cell phone app. Great little feature.”
“I know you’re down there. Just give me the flash drive. That’s all I want.”
Every muscle in Logan’s body was tense as steel.
The narrow light continued to work its way down the hill, closer and closer. In high-definition detail, Logan watched it as it illuminated moss-covered branches, mud, twigs and loose leaves.
“I saw you grab it off the table on your way out the door. That’s it, isn’t it? Lauren’s little blackmail drive.”
Logan held her breath. Her leg was starting to cramp. Charlie horse. Should have eaten a banana.
For some reason, this thought was hilarious. Giggles started to bubble up. She was one step away from hysteria.
Breathe in ... breathe out ...
“I don’t know what lies Lauren’s told you, but your new friend is a thief. And a liar. I’ll bet she didn’t tell you she had a husband. I’m Garrett, Lauren’s husband, and whatever’s on that drive is mine. The wife who was supposed to love and obey is the little bitch that tried to blackmail me with my own files. Those files represent business that bought her that big house and every scrap of clothing on her back. Oh, and she kidnapped my daughter, did she tell you that? I bet not. And she’s done it more than once. I’ve been sick with worry.”
Sick, yes. Worried? Logan doubted it.
He continued to list Lauren’s crimes.
“Stole money to buy her runaway car. I’ll bet she forgot to mention that little detail.”
The pieces were beginning to fall into place. Lauren was obviously Lori. She risked a lot to escape her husband and keep Shannon safely away from him, which, as far as Logan could tell, was a very wise move.
Any doubts about Lori’s secrecy and actions before, evaporated. Logan was firmly in Lori’s camp now. She just had to live long enough to get this evidence back to her.
55
From her hiding place, Logan looked out between the leaves watching the relentless progress of the light beam as it made its way down the side of the ravine—only a few feet away now.
As quietly as possible, Logan felt blindly around her, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. No rocks ... lots of soft, spongy moss ... twigs ... useless! She needed something heavy. When the light found her, she had no doubt he’d be on her in a second.
She didn’t know if he had a gun, or a knife, but she knew she didn’t have either. Mano a mano, he’d win. If she could find something to hit him with, she’d aim for his head and hope she could stop him long enough to use her own phone to call for help. If she screamed now, someone might hear her, but he’d get to her before anyone could come to the rescue.
No, she was on her own.
And it was already too late. She looked down. The yellow beam of light was dancing off her bare feet.
“Hello!” Garrett said.
Logan had never heard a more chilling word. Fear gripped her body. Plunging into the icy stream, her only thought was to get away. Garrett came plunging down the hill.
Desperately crawling away, Logan tried to climb out the other side. Her hands slipped in the mud and scraped across something rough, landing her hard on her elbow, drenching her pajamas. Fighting panic, she managed to push the pain to the back of her mind, drag herself up and run. She pushed pain into another part of her mind. Her wet clothing snagged and caught, but somehow she didn’t fall again.
She thought the stream ran down to Little Whale Cove. There were houses there. And rocks.
She heard Garrett sliding down the last few feet of the bank, splashing into the water, cursing.
“Bitch!” he yelled, “You’re going to pay for this!”
Logan raced blindly. Any second he was going to reach out and grab her.
Suddenly she was jerked off her feet. She struggled, but Garrett held on like death. He had a full handful of hoodie and auburn hair. Like a wild animal caught, Logan twisted away, lunging forward in panic, until he lost his grip.
She kept running until she saw the cove up ahead.
Two hulking, granite boulders rose before her. The stream narrowed and rushed between them, then opened up a few yards away onto the small, crescent of rough beach called Little Whale Cove. Instead of soft sand, it was covered in small stones and broken shells, strewn with large, driftwood logs. It was low tide and smelled strongly of seaweed.
Logan looked up. Several houses perched atop the cliff. The ones with dramatic ocean views she had so admired this morning while walking on the path above that wound along the coast at the top of the bluffs. Scrabbling the last few feet, Logan hobbled into the open, cupped her hands, and yelled up at the houses as loud as she could.
“Help! Call the police!”
Logan could only hope an insomniac lived in one of the houses and slept with the windows open like she did. She struggled to keep her balance just as Garrett emerged onto the beach. Her plan was to dive back into the forest—her only hope for survival was in the dark.
A weak moon shone ghostly white on the beach. Shredded, gauzy clouds hung over the trees in a dull, navy sky. She could see her attacker clearly now. And he could see her. Crouched and ready to spring, Logan looked like the devil herself. Sopping wet, bare toes gripping sharp rocks and shells, hair whipping into her face by the cold wind, she was spitting mad. Damned if she was going to let this guy kill her, which she knew he would do as soon as he got what he wanted. She looked directly into his eyes. Isn’t that what wolves did? Establish dominance. She wasn’t backing down.
If she could have made her feet move, she would have circled, looking for a good opening. Instead, Garrett sprinted forward and lurched into her. Logan went down scratching and screaming, like a wounded banshee. If the people in the houses on the cliff weren’t awake already, they would be soon. Hope faltered when she remembered many of the residents here were part timers. Rita said most had already left for their winter homes in drier climates, like Arizona and Colorado. No one was going to hear her.
With grim determination, Logan grabbed a handful of beach debris. Smiling when she realized what her hand landed on, she rotated it around with her fingers and let the smaller pebbles fall through. Gripping the large, jagged mussel shell, she sliced it down Garrett’s face. It was his turn to scream.
Next, she went for his throat, but missed. Heavier and stronger, Garrett pinned her easily with his body, grabbed her arms and pulled them overhead. Clamping her wrists together, he ground the back of her hands painfully into the rocks. With the other hand, he reached into her pocket, lifting out the flash drive. And her phone.
Logan’s heart sank. No movement or lights turned on in the houses above. It couldn’t end like this. She had to see Amy ... and Ben. This just couldn’t be happening!
With a smug grimace, Garrett pushed the full length of his body against hers, wisely keeping his face out of reach of her teeth, and stayed there while she tried to squirm away. Tiring of this, keeping one knee on her chest and her arms secure over her head, he opened his jacket with one hand, put the flash drive and phone into the inner pocket, then zipped them in securely.
�
�Thank You, Miss McKenna,” he said. “If I had time, I’d teach you a lesson. I’d teach you how to behave. Unfortunately, I only have time to kill you.”
That’s all Logan needed to hear. Knowing she wasn’t going to get another chance, with strength born of stark fear, she pushed him off and rolled to the right. Gathering her feet under her, she rose and lurched towards the forest. Garrett’s hand shot out, grabbed the heel of her foot. Slippery with seaweed, she yanked it free and kept going. Searing pain shot down her leg, but stopping was not an option.
Frothing with rage, yelling all the things he would do to her, no longer the controlled, calm killer, Garrett came crashing in after her.
There were acres and acres of forest, but after her initial sprint, Logan had to slow her pace. There was no clear path and she couldn’t run. She could barely walk. Desperately, she looked for a place to hide, but after the comparative light of the beach, she couldn’t see anything. She tried feeling her way with her feet. The ground was different here, wetter. More moss. She must be near the stream, but it sounded funny, like it was far off.
Gingerly, she stepped forward. Before she could grab anything to stop her fall, her good leg shot out from under her sending her sliding down a steep embankment.
Now she knew where the stream was.
This was it. She couldn’t move. Every inch of her hurt. Her body rotated on the way down, scraping and bruising every side. If she was meat, she’d be all set for marinade. Just slip in some butter and garlic. The only good part of this scenario was that she was so far down, Garrett would have a hard time getting to her. Or seeing her. She could only see a sliver of sky above her.
Dragging herself out of the water, Logan pulled herself towards the darkest corner she could find, a narrow opening between two massive tree roots. Pressed between their sheltering arms, soaked to the skin and cold, she held herself perfectly still, listening for the sound of footsteps.
Vanishing Day Page 19