McAllister Justice Series Box Set
Page 49
Thick woods opened to a small natural clearing where overgrown grass and weeds took advantage of available sunlight. It appeared workers had removed larger trees from an area in preparation for a home then abandoned the site before construction began.
Twin furrows led from the SUV parked in the meadow’s center to disappear into the woods. Beside the black vehicle, Abby spotted a shovel sticking in a pile of dirt—and the hole. The intended purpose forced her stomach to empty.
She hit the ground hard, her braid snagging on a tangle of briars. A minute passed before she could breathe again without more acid erupting. Positioned on all fours wasn’t how she’d planned to face her killer.
“Come now, Abby. I know you’re tired and not feeling your best but look at it this way. You can rest for eternity.
“No!” Before she could twist around and gain her feet, pain exploded in her head.
The blackness quickly devoured her thoughts, her fear, and her hope.
PAIN. UTTER DARKNESS.
Abby strained to find the faintest glimmer that would illuminate her tomb. The air was musty, and she lay on something hard. Lack of familiar sounds terrified her as much as the unknown. The unforgiving material underneath was painful against her lower back.
Think. What would Royden do?
Assess the situation. Matt had taught her that much. She took a slow breath and concentrated, closing her eyes and pretending it was a test. The odor of damp earth declared otherwise.
Hysterics would serve no purpose, so she squashed the thought of her body growing roots below and sending up shoots of beautiful flowers. When she figured her way out, and she would, she’d never plant another vegetable without thinking of the roots surging under the soil.
Cold. Despite the above average air temperature, her space was cold. Which told her Jenna had dug a deep enough hole to account for a lower temp. Without a reference, there was no way to tell how long she’d been unconscious.
Her questing touch encountered rough wood above and to her sides with only inches of spare room in either direction. Splinters broke off and embedded in her fingers. A random slide and thump above declared someone or something near her grave. She’s filling it in with dirt.
Abby shifted her body side to side. The wooden box left little room to move. Pure blind terror refused to give name to the compartment in which she lay. Her macabre thoughts served up a picture of mud pie with a straw in the center.
It took a bit of contortion in the limited space to check her scalp. Pain radiated from the side of her head where a lump rose, along with crusted material. Blood. She’d been there long enough for the bleeding to stop.
In moving her hand, her fingers brushed against something small and round. Vinyl tubing? The top of the box was less than six inches from her nose.
Random thumps continued, reverberating in her chest like the bass beat of a band.
Havoc started humming a tune, which might be the last thing Abby heard. She wouldn’t give the satisfaction of screaming epithets.
Panic encroached from all sides, filling her mind with terror and stealing the ability to think. Royden said every puzzle had an answer. One just needed to quiet their mind to discover it.
Above her face, she again encountered the small flexible tubing. Fresh air. Any connection to open air was welcome. Lifting her head, she closed her lips around the tubing and sucked in a breath.
During a class in law school, she’d studied a case of a woman buried alive. Signs of low oxygen content included confusion, euphoria, headache, shortness of breath, and dizziness. Considering her probable concussion, she had no how idea to separate the symptoms. The one thing she did know—terror and panic would see her dead quicker than if she kept a cool head. She’d done so once in an underground prison. She could do it again.
If she could finagle a way to reach her phone stuffed in her sock, she might be able to send a text. The fact she could hear Jenna meant she wasn’t buried too deep.
Royden’s words after the cave-in kept her from having a panic attack. She let them flow through her mind now, as if he lay beside her. If she passed out, she might not wake up.
Bending her right knee and twisting her body as much as the space allowed, she reached her jeans at calf level but couldn’t stretch to grip her phone. Panic rose in waves, beaten back by the memory of Royden’s calming instructions.
Again, she lifted her head to breathe from the tubing. She could do this.
The next attempt to reach the electronic lifeline gained her access to her sock after using her left foot to hike her right jean’s hem upward then slide the device forward.
With her cell in hand, she smiled and took another breath from the tubing. Instead of life-giving oxygen, a sticky sweet goo that tasted oddly of cinnamon and honey flowed into her mouth. She gagged and sputtered to clear her throat.
“Ha! I knew you’d wake up soon, bitch. I wanted you alert to contemplate the rest of your short life. However, I was nice enough to leave you a sweet reminder of me. Bye, Abby. I’ll tell my stepbrother you’ll wait in hell for him.”
Further muffled words confused as much as frustrated. Seconds later, the sound of a car door slamming and an engine roar signaled Abby was indeed, alone.
She gripped her phone then felt for the button to backlight the keys. The screensaver, a picture of Royden on the end of a bungee cord, reminded her of all the good times they’d shared.
In the upper right-hand corner, she saw one bar. Good enough to send a text. In the opposite corner, the battery icon flashed. No!
She didn’t know specifically where Jenna had buried her. It wasn’t as if she could send coordinates. Her life came down to a few bars on her cell and probably less than an hour of oxygen.
What she could do entailed sending a text... To Matt, who always felt responsible for his siblings? To Royden, apologizing for not marrying him? To her parents, for providing all the love and nurturing needed to follow her dreams?
Time and a desperate heart tapped out a message to Royden, praying he’d receive it and forgive her for not waiting.
Royden, I wish we’d married. I will always love you.
Self-defense classes had strengthened and toughened her body. If she had a little room, she might’ve been able to weaken the old wood by pounding on it. Letting in dirt would suffocate me that much sooner.
Her last act included removing the diamond ring from its chain and slipping it onto her finger. Royden would understand.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Billy gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “Call Lexi first. I don’t buy the coincidence of Lottie calling Abby the same time our car won’t start.” Peeling out of Johen’s driveway in the borrowed officer’s vehicle slammed them both sideways.
Royden didn’t need an explanation. His thoughts revolved around Abby and holding her again. “We’re about twenty minutes out. Where’re your brothers?”
“I’ll get them on conference call.” Billy punched his cell to activate voice commands, cursing with each stab. “Where did Abby say she was headed?”
“Mt. Hood National Forest. It’s a damn big area to cover... impossible without help.” An incoming message alert with the first bars of their favorite legal sitcom offered a reprieve from the figurative boa constricting Royden’s chest. “It’s from Abby.”
“What’s it say?”
The hope in Billy’s voice died a quick death when Royden dry-heaved.
“Oh god. No, Abby. No!” Royden opened the passenger window and gulped huge volumes of air.
A sharp turn taken faster than the car could handle lifted two wheels from the asphalt.
“Damn it, Royden. Talk!”
“She says she loves me and wishes she’d married me.” Tears blurred Royden’s vision.
Billy’s roar filled the car.
All at once, the McAllisters’ voices over speakerphone demanded an update. Matt was the closest to the area.
“Hold on, guys,
Royden’s gonna get Lexi on board so we can all keep up.”
The familiar beeps and buzzes of a computer startup signaled Lexi’s incoming call. Royden swiped right then put it on speaker.
“Royden?” Lexi’s cautious optimism filled the car.
“Trace Abby’s phone. Now.”
“On it. Tell me why.”
“She said she went to meet a client and would turn on her phone.” Family connections ensured they’d understand verbal shortcuts. “A Trooper Fadden is providing escort. She just sent me a text saying she wished she could’ve married me.”
“Fuck!” Lexi’s expletive overrode the background noise of her keyboard search.
Over the open line, silence from four siblings.
“I got nothing, Royden. Her phone’s gone dead.”
“What? You’re a fucking genius on the keyboard. Find her!” Royden roared.
“Calm down. We won’t do it by losing our heads. I can tap into the system and find the police car. Give me Fadden’s number, it’ll save time.”
“Can you track him?” Billy asked before Royden repeated the number of the last call received.
“Yeah, give me just a sec to pull it up. Reception is going to be spotty. Matt, do you have Damien?”
“Yes,” Matt’s words came through cold and calm. Royden had seen the eldest McAllister’s dog at work before and prayed his talent wouldn’t be needed.
“Abby’s smart. She’ll buy us time.” Billy’s assurance offered much-needed hope. “I’m surprised she let her phone run down. That’s not normal considering how attached she is to it.”
“Nothing has felt familiar to her since the bastard shot her in New Zealand. She hasn’t been able to get her feet on the ground. It’s why she wouldn’t marry me.”
Houses passed in an endless blur, each street less familiar than the previous in their race toward the highway.
While Billy updated his brothers, large yards yielded to small farms and thick woods with miles yet to travel.
Royden and Abby had hiked in the National Forest several times, but the area contained thousands of miles of ever-changing conditions.
“Okay, Royden. I’m sending coordinates to Billy’s phone along with updated road conditions. Recent rains along with problems incurred over the winter have shut down a few of them. I’m rerouting you all to the most direct path.”
“Thanks, Lexi. We’re just skirting the outer edges now.” Billy tamped his breaks to make a turn. “The map shows we’re about ten minutes out.” Cutting the connection to Lexi cleared their heads to focus.
“Billy, I’ve passed a visitor’s center. I’m ahead of you guys.” Matt informed over Damien’s barking in the background. “Lucas, Ethan, Caden, locations?”
Clipped conversation placed each brother compared to the others. One by one, their voices declared a united front and approach.
“Larrick is going to oversee the associate attorney’s interrogation at the station. We left him with the uni when we borrowed his car.” Royden filled in the last puzzle piece. “Matt—”
“Almost there. Katt and I have hiked through here, but I’m not familiar with this specific location. It’s a vast region.”
Royden swallowed hard, afraid of what he might find. Over the radio, Forest Services’ request for an ambulance declared Lexi worked in the background to keep the rangers in the loop. At the entrance, one of their line officers waited to direct EMS to the site.
Royden couldn’t look at his partner for fear of witnessing an untenable emotion. The guttural roar in his mind restricted rational thought. “She’s smart. She’s capable. She’s a survivor.”
Billy remained mute except for a groan. McAllister’s flushed skin, corded neck, and nostrils flaring spoke volumes.
The ensuing silence spilled into an eternity where Royden couldn’t think, couldn’t function, and didn’t care.
Flashing blue lights on the truck behind them signaled more backup. Ahead, Matt’s truck parked behind the state police cruiser partially blocked the view of Abby’s car. Both doors stood open.
Billy was out and racing toward the cabin before the engine quieted. The set of Matt’s shoulders as he hunched over the downed officer magnified the panic filling the atmosphere.
Royden rushed toward the cabin to find Abby but halted with Matt’s sharp command.
“She’s not inside. I cleared the cabin, and her phone isn’t in her purse,” Matt reiterated the dog’s command to stay while one hand pressed a jacket sleeve against the trooper’s neck and the other pressed the bulk of material over a gut wound. The downed officer’s eyes remained closed, but his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. “Billy, give me a hand. You’ll stay and oversee the scene until we have backup.”
Behind them, a Forest Ranger’s truck skidded to a stop. Two men raced from the vehicle, hands on the butts of their guns.
Matt made abbreviated introductions. “I need you to help this man and keep all personnel away from the cabin. It’s a crime scene.” Matt yielded care of the downed officer to the rangers. “I found him face down, trying to hold pressure to his wounds.”
Damien’s excitement stemmed from his owner’s anxiety and broadcast as short chuffs and weight bouncing foot to foot. When Matt stood, the shepherd danced around him.
“Get me something of Abby’s from her car,” Matt commanded. “Damien needs something for scenting.”
Royden was a step ahead and shoved a pair of mittens from the glove box into the eldest brother’s hands. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
The shepherd took a sniff of the offering and barked his signal for readiness.
“Your consultant identified you as brothers to the missing woman,” the closest ranger offered as he crouched to assess the trooper’s condition. His partner retrieved a first-aid kit.
“Yes.” Matt stood after the ranger assumed care of the trooper. “Make sure no one enters until CSI arrives. There’s an unidentified female victim inside.” Barked orders received no opposition.
The other ranger nodded as he scanned the area. These circumstances weren’t in their wheelhouse of experiences.
“Is it Lottie Davidson?” Royden choked out, nodding toward the structure, his mind racing ahead to consider various possibilities. “Abby’s got to be here somewhere, but underground. It’s what the killer meant by sending the pie and straw.”
Matt nodded to the ranger holding a blowout patch from his kit against the officer’s neck. Blood was soaking the pressure bandage. A quick assessment formed a probable timeline and events. “He’s alive, but barely. If he hadn’t regained consciousness and shoved all the dead leaves and small rock against his neck before passing out, he probably wouldn’t have stood a chance. She can’t have been gone long.”
“I’ll pop the trunk and see if there’s a blanket,” Billy murmured, heading toward their borrowed car.
“I got it already. Let’s go.” Royden surveyed the area after handing the blanket to the ranger to prop up the officer’s lower legs.
He wanted nothing more than to rush forward and search for his soulmate, but the woods were thick and small animal paths were everywhere. Trampled grasses and weeds combined with briars to thwart all but the most determined. Abby didn’t have time for them to take a false trail.
Matt bent to place his forehead against the dog’s head. “Please, boy, find her. Find Abby.”
“Her battery went dead after she sent me a text.” Royden coughed to disguise the break in his voice.
Without hesitation, the dog pulled Matt toward the edge of the clearing heading east. When he stopped and sniffed a small thicket of briars, Matt loosened the lead. “Blood.”
Royden and Billy followed with gun in hand. “She’s left us a trail to follow.” Hope had begun as a seed when they knew Abby wasn’t in the cabin. “The killer has a special hatred for her, wants her to suffer before dying. He won’t kill her right away.”
“Why bring her out here?” Matt skidded down a small ravine a
nd hopped across the narrow stream at the bottom. Damien strained at his leash to move faster.
“This has to be related to Carrigan. He’d kept her in an underground prison, yet she escaped. That alone is a significant punch to his ego.” Royden slipped on the steep gradient uphill but grabbed a thickened branch nearby for support.
“But the first attempt in New Zealand had nothing to do with being buried. None of the MOs match,” Matt continued, trying to piece together parts that wouldn’t fit.
“She can’t be too far ahead. The timeline doesn’t allow for anything different.” Billy focused on navigating fallen obstacles and low-lying branches.
“Maybe he considered New Zealand an easy opportunity, an early trial.” Matt paused at the sound of voices, giving Damien a quiet signal.
In the southern distance, several teenagers and a middle-aged woman hiked along a worn path. Matt glanced back and shook his head before signaling his dog to continue the search.
Damien had no interest in the hikers, instead pulling forward. Every few yards, he stopped and sniffed at branches or forest debris.
When they came to a clearing, Matt held the shepherd back and crouched behind the underbrush.
Royden knelt beside him, mindless of the thorns. “No.” His heart hammered in his chest. He couldn’t swallow around the knot forming in his throat. “Those are tire tracks beside the—” He couldn’t think, much less say the word. A strong hand yanked him back when he bolted up.
“It doesn’t mean there’s nobody lying in wait to ambush us. We can’t do her any good if we’re wearing lead.” Matt sent his dog forward to search. “Let Damien clear the area first.”
Royden shook him off and bolted forward, unable to wait. If Abby lay breathless beneath the pile of dirt, he had no use for air. His world would end with her. “Abby!” Years of training and experience dissipated in thin air.
Semi-cleared ground appeared to be the abandoned site of a planned cabin. Parallel channels defined the tire tracks leading away from the fresh grave.