Isolated Threat

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Isolated Threat Page 19

by Nicole Helm


  He rubbed the bridge of his nose and then his temples. A headache nagged and exhaustion had set in, but paperwork kept him chained to his desk. Settling in with a fresh cup of coffee, he opened the latest budget report. The hours passed by quietly. He didn’t take a break until right around midnight when he got up to stretch his legs.

  When the call came in about the missing girl, he was standing at the window staring up at the moon.

  * * *

  RAE CAVANAUGH FINISHED loading the dishwasher and then wiped down the counters and set the timer on the coffee maker. She hated doing kitchen chores so late, but she’d fallen asleep after dinner in front of the TV. The house was so quiet and peaceful tonight. A welcome respite. She’d been burning the candle at both ends for as long as she could remember. A little downtime was just what she’d needed.

  Her niece, Sophie, had roused her when she came in a few minutes ago. The girl had muttered a good-night and then gone straight upstairs to her room. Normally, music would be blasting through her closed door, but Sophie had seemed a bit subdued. Maybe she was coming down with something. Or maybe she’d had a fight with her boyfriend. Hard to tell with a sullen teenager.

  Rae wondered if she should go up and try to talk to her, but she discarded the notion almost immediately. One, she was too tired to cope with the girl’s moods, and two, she wanted to give Sophie her space. Wasn’t that the whole point of this prolonged visit? To allow Sophie and her parents a much-needed breather?

  Rae knew things must have gotten bad at her brother’s house if he’d come to her for help. At his wit’s end, he’d said. She’d never known Jackson to admit defeat, let alone to her. They’d been in bitter competition with one another since childhood. It didn’t help that she’d always been their dad’s favorite, but West Cavanaugh’s partiality toward his daughter hadn’t kept him from handing over the reins of Cavanaugh Industries to his only son. Rae was the chief financial officer—a glorified bookkeeper, she sometimes thought. Between the job and looking after their father, she had her hands full. And now Sophie. Poor kid. None of this was her fault. Rae blamed her brother and sister-in-law for letting things get so out of control. They’d lavished everything but attention on the girl without bothering to set boundaries. Now they were at loggerheads, with Sophie pushing for more independence and Jackson realizing a little too late that his princess might be headed for trouble.

  Rae poured herself a glass of wine and took it out to the backyard, but she left the drink untouched as she gazed up at the moon. What a strange night. She felt unaccountably uneasy, and it wasn’t just the argument she’d had earlier with Jackson or the troubling discrepancies she’d found in the financials. Or even the lawsuit that had been brought against Cavanaugh Industries by a neighboring rancher. That would all be sorted out soon enough.

  Nothing Rae could do about any of it tonight. Her father would handle the lawsuit. He had a way of coming out of these things smelling like a rose. He and Jackson had spent untold hours sequestered with their corporate attorneys, discussing possible witnesses and devising strategy. Rae, of course, had been kept out of the loop, which suited her fine. Plausible deniability in case things went south.

  She glanced up at her niece’s window. The lights were out but she could see a muted glow from the laptop screen. Time for her to turn in as well, Rae decided. She carried the glass back into the kitchen and poured the wine down the drain before taking one last look at the eclipse through the window. Then, turning off the lights, she went upstairs, pausing on the landing to listen for any sign of life from Sophie’s room. She could hear music playing, softly this time, and the murmur of Sophie’s voice as she talked to someone on her cell. Rae didn’t bother knocking or calling out. Let the girl have her privacy.

  In her own room, Rae collapsed on top of the bed fully dressed and threw an arm over her eyes. She’d get up in a minute, wash her face and brush her teeth, but right now she just wanted to drift. Forget about Sophie down the hallway and her brother off on a deep-sea fishing trip with his buddies. His wife, Lauren, had gone down to New Orleans to visit friends. Now that they didn’t have to worry about their daughter, they were footloose and fancy-free. Rae tried not to begrudge them a carefree weekend. She tried not to condemn their selfishness and poor parenting skills. God knows after Mother died, I certainly failed Riley.

  Beautiful, smart, tenderhearted Riley. Rae’s younger sister by two years. The girl who had entered the old hospital ruins on that fateful night fifteen years ago and had never been seen or heard from again.

  Riley and her best friend, Jenna Malloy, had spent the night at Ellie Brannon’s house. The parents had been called away on an emergency and Tom had been left in charge. He’d been sixteen when it happened. Same age as Rae. Old enough to know that you didn’t go out partying when you were supposed to be minding the store. Never mind that the girls had been fourteen, also old enough to know better. Tom had been the one left in charge. He should have kept them safe.

  Over the years, Rae had come to accept that her feelings toward Tom Brannon were at best irrational and at worst malicious, but old grudges never really died. They just crawled off into some back corner of the mind and waited.

  She rolled over in bed, hugging her pillow as she stared out the window. She could see the moon through the pine trees. A blood moon, just as it had been on that night fifteen years ago. Rae wouldn’t think about that now. She wouldn’t think about her sister, Riley, and how much she still missed her. How much she would always miss her.

  But it was Riley’s smiling face she saw when she closed her eyes. It was Riley’s anguished cry for help that echoed in her dreams when she finally fell asleep.

  * * *

  SOPHIE WAS TEMPTED to use the flashlight app on her phone, but there were houses on the lake and she didn’t want to attract attention. The moon was up, dulled by a lunar eclipse, according to her science teacher. Sophie didn’t much care about the reason. She just wished she could see where she was going as she made her way along the bank toward the Ruins, a hollowed-out shell of a building that had once housed a psychiatric hospital. Or so rumor had it. That was long before Sophie’s time.

  The place had always been spooky, but more so after those girls had gone missing. Sophie hadn’t been born yet when her aunt had vanished from the Ruins. Ellie Brannon had come back. Jenna Malloy had eventually come back—at least physically—but Riley Cavanaugh had disappeared without a trace that night. And now here Sophie was, fifteen years later, headed for the same destination.

  She wasn’t frightened. Not really. The lake looked eerie in the muted moonlight, with cypress stumps rising from the shallow water and the banks curtained with Spanish moss. But as far as Sophie was concerned, there were scarier things back in town. Still, she couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder now and then.

  Her aunt Rae had been sound asleep when she’d slipped down the stairs and out of the house. Sophie couldn’t get her license for another few months, so she’d ridden her bike out to the lake bridge and abandoned it beneath the supports. She had to go the rest of the way on foot. She was almost there now. She could see the smokestack from the old boiler room rising above the treetops. That gave her pause. So creepy. She was starting to get a little nervous now. She always did when her turn came, but she would never admit her unease to the others.

  A twig snapped behind her and she whirled, peering all along the edge of the lake and into the woods. Nothing stirred except for the sway of the moss in the breeze and the gentle lap of water against the bank. A mosquito buzzed her face and she waved a hand to shoo it away. She should have brought insect repellent, but too late now.

  She remained motionless for another long moment before turning back to the path. Up the steep bank she climbed, clutching vines and roots to help propel her to the top. When she reached the summit, she stood with the lake at her back and the Ruins silhouetted before her. Three stories of crumbling brick a
nd mortar and broken-out windows.

  Drawing a resolved breath, she picked her way through the weeds and brambles and entered through one of the arched doorways. Taking out her phone, she used the flashlight to illuminate the interior. She’d been here many times before, always in daylight until lately. She knew about the gurneys and wheelchairs that had been abandoned at the back of the building. She knew about the open elevator shaft upstairs and the caged area on the third floor. She angled the light beam over the biblical graffiti on the walls and the mural with the demonic face that had been painted on the ceiling.

  Preacher. That was the name given to the former psychiatric patient who had continued to sermonize from his makeshift pulpit long after the hospital had closed down and the patients without families or financial means had been left to their own devices. Some had assimilated into nearby towns, or so the story went, but Sophie thought that might be another urban legend.

  Whatever. She was here now. Let the game begin.

  She crept from room to room, playing the light over the walls as she searched for a symbol that would guide her to the next level. The roof was missing in places and she had an image of the whole structure toppling down upon her, burying her in an avalanche of dark secrets and old misery. Would her aunt Rae blame herself? Would her parents? Would they even care?

  The softest of steps sounded behind her. Phantom footfalls that sent a shiver down her spine. She turned slowly, the light beam capturing a silhouette for one split second before the shadow darted away.

  Rae tried to swallow away her fear as she drew a quick breath. “Preacher,” she said in a small voice. “Is that you?”

  * * *

  RAE AWAKENED WITH a start. She wasn’t sure what had roused her this time. In her dream, someone had been pounding on the front door. She lay still for a moment, listening to the dark house, but the only noise she heard was the scratch of a tree limb against her window.

  She crawled out of bed and headed for the bathroom, then paused in midstride as her gaze went to the bedroom door. She was certain she’d closed it earlier, but now it hung open, as if someone had stood in the hallway peering in at her.

  Which was crazy. If Sophie had needed something, she would have barged right on in, turned on the light and called Rae’s name until she woke up. The girl could be as subtle as a sledgehammer at times. Still, Rae thought about her niece’s wan expression when she’d come home earlier. Something had obviously been bothering her, and now Rae regretted that she hadn’t been a little more curious.

  She went down the hallway and listened at Sophie’s door. She could hear music inside. Maybe the girl was still up, still in need of a sympathetic ear. Rae knocked softly. When she didn’t get a response, she knocked a little harder and then tried the door. She expected to find it locked from the inside, but to her surprise, the door swung inward, revealing the usual mayhem and clutter. Music played from the laptop on Sophie’s bed. The window was open, allowing the night breeze to blow in. The lights were off except for a night-light that burned from the adjoining bathroom. Rae crossed the room and peeked inside, wincing at the mess. Damp towels had been tossed into a corner and the vanity was littered with cosmetics. But no Sophie.

  Apprehension tickled at the back of Rae’s neck, but she told herself there was no cause for alarm. Sophie had probably gone down to the kitchen for a snack. Rae checked the hallway bathroom before heading downstairs, turning on lights as she went. Sophie wasn’t in the living room, den or kitchen. Not in the downstairs bathroom or out on the screened back porch. She wasn’t on the front porch, either, or in the detached garage. She wasn’t anywhere.

  Don’t panic. She’d probably sneaked out of the house to meet her boyfriend.

  Disregarding the late hour, Rae called the kid’s house, rousing his dad, who gruffly assured her that Dylan was in his room and had been since he’d come home around ten. Rae insisted he go check to make sure, which he’d begrudgingly agreed to do. Then he’d put Dylan on the phone and the kid had sworn he hadn’t seen Sophie since he’d dropped her off at home at 10:00 p.m.

  Rae sat out on the front porch and called everyone else she could think of. None of Sophie’s friends had seen her. No one knew anything. How could she have slipped out of the house without Rae knowing? She was usually such a light sleeper.

  Okay, just stay calm. It’s not that late. A few minutes after midnight. Well past curfew for a school night but Sophie wasn’t one for following the rules. Rae tried the girl’s cell phone for the umpteenth time and then sent her a barrage of text messages.

  Where are you?

  I’m starting to freak out a little. Call me as soon as you get this message. Just let me know you’re okay.

  Sophie, call me! Call me right this minute! I’m serious!

  You’re not in trouble, I promise. Just call me. I need to know you’re okay.

  Sophie, please call me.

  I’m worried.

  After a bit, Rae got up and went back inside. She climbed the stairs to Sophie’s room and checked the laptop, then searched through the dresser drawers and closet looking for a clue as to where the girl might have gone. Then she got in her car and drove through town, up one street and down the other.

  By the time she got back home, she could no longer keep panic at bay. It didn’t matter that Sophie had been missing for only a couple of hours. It didn’t matter that her niece had once pulled a similar stunt on her parents. Rae was responsible for the child now. She was the one in charge.

  Plopping down on Sophie’s bed, she sent off another volley of texts before reaching for the laptop once again. Then she called the last person on earth she had expected to talk to that night.

  * * *

  RAE CAVANAUGH WAS the last person Tom had expected to hear from that night...or ever. He automatically checked his watch when the call came in. He should have left for home an hour ago, but he supposed it was just as well that he hadn’t. No matter the time, a call from a Cavanaugh would have been forwarded to his cell phone or landline. They were important folks, the Cavanaughs, and they weren’t shy about letting you know it.

  He figured the call had something to do with the kid he had in lockup, one of their young roughnecks who’d gotten himself into a little trouble earlier in the evening. Tom wasn’t in the mood to be raked over the coals, but he could face Rae’s wrath now or in the morning. Didn’t much matter to him. He’d developed a thick skin when it came to the Cavanaughs.

  “Sheriff Brannon.” He answered the phone in his usual manner, fully expecting a surly comeback.

  “This is Rae Cavanaugh.”

  She sounded out of breath. Distressed. Tom frowned. “What can I do for you, Rae?”

  “Sophie’s gone missing.”

  The unease that had niggled all evening deepened. “Sophie?”

  “My niece. Jackson’s daughter. She’s been staying with me for a while. I went to check on her earlier and she’s not in her room. I called everyone I could think of. All her friends, her boyfriend. No one has seen her. Tom...” He could imagine her clutching the phone as everything she’d done to find her niece came pouring out in her panic. When she finished, she took another moment to gather her poise. “You and I have had our differences in the past, but I didn’t know who else to call. I don’t know what else to do. I’ve looked everywhere. She’s not answering her phone or my texts. I just keep thinking about that night—”

  “Hold on,” he said. “You say she came home at ten and went up to her room. It’s just after midnight now. At most she’s only been gone a couple of hours. Teenagers sneak out of the house all the time.”

  “I know that. I keep telling myself she’s just gone off with a friend, but I checked with the girls I know she’s close to. No one has seen her.”

  “Maybe she has a friend you don’t know about.”

  “It’s possible. She hasn’t been living with me
that long. Tom.” Dread crept into her voice. “I found something on her laptop just now. She has dozens of pictures of the Ruins. I think she took them herself. They look recent. You don’t think—”

  “I was just leaving the office. I’ll make a run out there before I head home.”

  “I’m coming, too. It’ll be faster if I meet you there.”

  “Maybe you should stay home in case she comes back,” he said.

  “I’ll leave a note and I’ll take my cell phone. I can’t sit in this house and do nothing. I’ll go crazy with worry.”

  He sighed under his breath. “Okay, but if you get there first, wait for me by the bridge. Don’t go any farther without me. Understand?”

  “Tom...”

  “What is it?”

  She hesitated. “Aren’t you going to say it?”

  “Say what, Rae?”

  “This is my fault. She’s my responsibility.”

  “Let’s just find her and bring her home.”

  Tom ended the call and then went out to the squad room to speak with the dispatcher. A patrol car would meet them at the bridge. They could all traipse through the woods together. Most likely, the girl was out partying somewhere, but Tom didn’t take chances with missing kids.

  As he went out to his own vehicle, he couldn’t help glancing skyward once more. The moon had disappeared behind a storm cloud.

  Copyright © 2020 by Marilyn Medlock Amann

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