Mid-flight, she gulped a lungful of air and held it. Her body registered the splash and the cold water at the same time. Once underwater, she fumbled to draw the zipper down as she sunk fast into depths unknown.
Melanie felt the fabric slip from her body as she wriggled free of the stone-weighted bag and watched, with eyes wide open, as it continued on its downward spiral. The second body bag nudged her on the way past, the surprise of it causing her to lose valuable air. She grimaced, shamefully aware of the gratefulness that flooded her at the realization that Chrissy was beyond saving. At least her conscience would be free from that burden.
She summoned all of her strength and kicked hard to the left to stay close to the bank. The current carried her downstream. When she figured her lungs were about to burst, she thrust upward. Surely, the darkness would hide her head from the murderers. Melanie couldn’t recall if a full moon hovered in the sky. The reflection it cast across the water could reveal her presence if the men still lingered by the shoreline. Regardless, she needed to breathe.
Melanie surfaced close to the edge and gulped in the night air, holding back the choking cough threatening to break the deathlike stillness. A twisted limb with sharp edges caught her eye, and she steered her body toward it. She lifted both arms, grateful to hook them around the rough bark. The limb stopped her drifting, and Melanie took a moment to calm herself.
A quick glance behind her told Melanie that the two men had deserted the lake. She heard a motor in the distance, and involuntary sobs broke loose. Melanie forced herself to suck it up, and she heaved her weight upward to rest on her elbows for support. She worked the tape between two sharp edges of the limb, whimpering and sniffling the whole time. Melanie never wanted to come that close to death again.
Her Christian upbringing had made her fully aware of her unforgiving heart and the fact that her soul was not prepared to meet Jesus. Her survival instincts had bypassed her drug-induced mind and melted away the weariness. The need to escape the woods and get to safety repeatedly screamed in her head.
Being a city cop, wilderness survival was not one of her strong suits. The closest she’d come to roaming alone in the woods was during a scavenger hunt on the family estate. Muffled groans of pain and irritation escaped her pursed lips as she stumbled through the bush as quietly as a flawed, inexperienced Miss Prissy could possibly manage. Melanie assumed she’d been moving in the opposite direction for a long while, and she must be miles away when all hope was stripped from her by the sound of a male voice humming a jovial tune. She halted dead in her tracks but not fast enough.
The song ceased, and a man yelled out, “John, you’re back too early. Haven’t finished cleaning up the bloody mess and I still need to ditch the car.”
Melanie sucked in air. Her sense of direction had failed her miserably, for she’d backtracked and was headed toward the scene of the crime. And to beat it all, she’d been discovered. Maybe, if she stayed quiet, he’d think it was an animal and carry on with his task. Attempting the lay-low approach only infuriated the man further.
From behind a forested shield, he bellowed. “I know you’re out there, man. I don’t spook easily, so you may as well come into the open.”
Melanie didn’t answer. She held her breath while listening to him mutter and curse. The click of the gun’s hammer being drawn into firing position put speed in her step and spurred her feet into action.
“Whoever you are, don’t make me come find you,” came the final warning.
She quietly angled away from the voice and upward. It’s amazing the reaction that fear could produce in an otherwise urban gal. Movements quickened, became focused, and she congratulated herself prematurely for discovering trail skills in a time of need. That’s when she heard the voice again. It was in the distance but definitely on the move.
“I was born in the woods,” he called out. “I just want to chat. Didn’t know anyone else kept these crazy night hours.”
He was attempting to lure her out with casual conversation, but her one great advantage was that he didn’t expect to be chasing after one of his dumped-in-the-river victims. Hopefully, he believed his own wild stretch of the imagination, that someone had happened along in the middle of the night. That didn’t make him any less dangerous – it simply kept Melanie’s survival a secret from the one who had felt the need to snuff out her existence.
A branch snapped behind her and she jumped. The man had thrown all caution to the wind, and the earth pounded with every step.
The quiet approach had been lost to his anger, and Melanie took to her feet, running. She hurried, winding her way up the last of the hill until her legs felt like cement weights. In her relief at reaching the crest of the knoll, she stumbled and fell hard on the dirt road.
Melanie muted a cry as her knee scraped the gravel. Blood spurted everywhere. She ignored the sting, turned right and raced along the level surface, allowing herself to celebrate a brief victory only after she’d turned a curve in the road. Her position would remain hidden from the hunter’s view whenever the self-acclaimed wilderness man managed to climb the forest hill and reach the road.
She bent over. Fear-filled vomit gathered in her throat, but the hunted refused to fall prey to its weakness. The fight for her life was underway, and she straightened and jogged along the roadway, grateful for every bend that hid her from the persistent man who pursued her.
Melanie arrived at a fork and faltered. She had no idea where she was in Langley County.
Headlights blinded her from out of nowhere. “No,” Melanie groaned aloud. Anyone traveling these back roads at this time of night was probably not a good guy.
She turned to face the woods again, pressing back the tears threatening to zap what little energy remained in her overtaxed body. The will to run weakened. Her balance swayed during the impulsive twist, and she planted her face into a tree trunk. She bore the pain as the bark scratched her arms while falling in a heap on the ground. The car braked hard, illuminating her crouched figure in the glow of bright lights.
Melanie lifted a prayer to the heavens. The fight was over. This time, she wouldn’t escape her fate.
God promises to rescue us in our time of need.
Chapter 3
Melanie struggled to her feet, using her last burst of energy in an attempt at disappearing. She heard a voice whisper into the night, “Sis, is that you?”
Not, “Hey you,” or “Melanie,” but “Sis,” as in sister? It couldn’t be her brother. He lived in their home state of Georgia two hundred miles away. A hand reached out to grab her arm, and she swung around and met him face to face.
“Drew? My God, it is you. How?”
“No time for questions. Get into the car, and I’ll take you somewhere safe.”
Melanie allowed him to lead her to the passenger’s side and he gently push her inside. She leaned against the soft leather and watched him dash past the headlights and settle onto the driver’s seat.
“Don’t give up on me now, Sis. We’re almost clear.”
She closed her eyes when he ground the vehicle into gear and sped away. Melanie chanced a glimpse into the side mirror to see if her pursuer followed, but only ominous night shadows lingered in the dust of the car’s wheels.
Drew didn’t speak for a long time. An awkward silence filled the space between them, but her exhausted body ignored the obvious implications that her brother had somehow known about the plan that had gone down that night. Thankfully, his brotherly obligations overruled his involvement. At least, Melanie wasn’t going to die today.
“There’s a blanket in the back seat. Pull it over you – you’re all wet,” Drew said.
When Melanie didn’t reach for it or acknowledge his words, he threw his arm over the seat and tossed the woolen blanket in her direction. “Cover up, Mel. I’ll have you in a warm bath soon.”
A warm bath. Now, that was something worth thinking about. It sure beat the torturous rewind of the night’s events so far. She glanced
sideways and confirmed, for sanity’s sake, that Drew was driving and that she was, indeed, safe. The mind is a fickle thing; always seeking confirmation.
Weakness had consumed her by the time they’d reached their destination. She gazed blankly at Drew as he held the door open. He cussed when she didn’t perform her usual jump through the door routine, and he reached in and picked her up in his arms.
“Mel, you’re as light as a feather. Hope you’re not on one of those blasted diets Mom always tried pushing on you. A girl should have some meat on her bones.”
Melanie heard him like some distant echo, but she didn’t have the energy to tell him not to worry – diet was the last thing she considered when sitting down to a meal laden with carbs and sugar. Body strength and stamina had fed her plight that night. After all, she’d just swam against the current, pulled her body up the riverbank, ran through the underbrush, and climbed a steep hill, all to escape her would-be murderers. Her drugged mind had zapped her thought processes, rendering her independent Georgia sass barely visible. Melanie surrendered to the docile woman that had invaded her body, and she gave in and rested her head on his shoulder. Before she closed her eyes, The Inn of Refuge’s motel sign registered in her mind. How appropriate was that?
Drew slid in keycard while still holding her tightly in his arms. Once inside, he plunked her down on the edge of the bed and fumbled with the arms of her summer sweater. “Mel, snap out of it! What happened to that independent spitfire deputy you claim to be?”
Tears trickled down her cheeks, silently acknowledging her embarrassment. She, too, wondered why the brave, trained officer had abandoned her emotionally.
“Well, I’m not going to undress my own sister. Help me out here.”
That sounded reasonable. Undressing was a necessary task before a bath, so she mustered the necessary motivation and shoved him away. “Where’s the bathroom?”
Melanie stumbled in the direction Drew had pointed, and she disappeared inside. She flipped the switch, and light flooded the room, causing her to blink against its blinding glare. The tub came into focus, and while she was still leaning against the wall, she bent over and turned on the faucet. She peeled off the wet garments clinging to her form, left them lying in a heap on the floor, and stepped in, holding the sidewall to stay balanced. The sudden heat stole her breath, but she ignored it and dropped onto the porcelain bottom, groaning aloud with a mixture of pain and delight.
“Are you all right in there?”
“Yes, Drew,” she answered. “Thank you.”
The clear water that had lured her in, soon turned a mucky combination of gravel-brown and blood-red. The layers of dirt accumulated from her night’s adventure soaked off as she laid back and closed her eyes. Tears flooded down her face, landing with steady plops into the water, adding salt to the wounds from a night she’d never forget.
When her body had warmed, and she could no longer bear the thought of sitting in filth, she shifted to her knees and used the wall for support to push her wobbly legs to a standing position. Melanie pulled the plug, listening for a moment to the gurgle of the water as it drained. Each sound amplified as if she were hearing it for the first time. Similarly, her actions seemed overemphasized and calculated. Melanie wondered if that happened as a result of a near-death experience, and if one gained a new appreciation for the tiny things in life. The thought overwhelmed her, and she decided to bask in those things for a while and force the horror of the night into the back of her mind.
She reached for the faucets once more, pulled the lever for the shower, and clean, hot water spilled out to rinse the remaining grunge from her body. Melanie watched the sediments swirl around the drain before plunging into the sewer. Grabbing a bar of soap, she lathered over and over again, then scrubbed her tangled mass of chestnut brown curls three times for good measure.
She’d hoped to feel cleaner on the inside once the outside bathing had been completed, but the dirty scars sadly remained in her thoughts as evidence of the abuse she’d suffered. Melanie did, however, feel warmer, and her scattered thoughts were beginning to clear. On the hook was a housecoat, compliments of the motel. As she slipped it on, it registered for the first time, where she was. Why would Drew have brought her to a motel? She wrapped a towel around her wet hair and opened the door.
Drew stopped pacing when he spotted her. “Thank God. I was so worried about you.”
Melanie stared at him. In her mind, she’d said goodbye to him at his home in Georgia a week ago. Now, he was in South Carolina. Nothing made sense. She shook her head free of the fog that refused to dissipate. Her head throbbed.
“Do you have any painkillers? I have a beast of a headache.”
“Sure.” Drew fumbled in his suitcase and brought out the bottle of pills. He handed it to her on his way to the sink, filled a glass of water, and brought it to her. “Sit down over here at the table so we can talk.”
They sat, and he studied her. When Melanie didn’t initiate the conversation, Drew egged her on. “Well? Talk.”
“I know nothing. The last time I remember seeing you was at your place in Georgia. You had Chrissy and me over for brunch just before we flew home. Chrissy started back to work yesterday whereas I still have a few days off before my shift at the precinct begins.” She downed two pills and the water in the tumbler. “Last night, we’d just finished watching our chick-flick when the doorbell rang. We weren’t expecting company at eleven o’clock. We shouldn’t have answered, but you know how curious Chrissy can be. Two men pushed their way inside and then…nothing until I woke up in the back of a car with my captors who planned to dump me in the river.”
“They planned to kill you? What trouble are you into, Sis?”
“None before tonight. I think it was Chrissy’s trouble.” The memory of the lake scene flooded her mind. “Oh, Drew. There were two of us in the trunk! Tell me you’ve talked to Chrissy. Is she okay?”
“Sorry, but I haven’t talked to her since my place.”
“They shot the other girl when she woke up screaming. I couldn’t make out her identity, but if they took me from the apartment, I can’t imagine Chrissy walked away free.” Melanie jumped from the chair, causing her head to spin. She dug her fingernails into the edge of the table for support.
Drew stood and reached for her. “Whoa, girl. What’s gotten into you? Did you remember something?”
His persistence angered Melanie. “I just told you that I didn’t remember anything after the men entered my apartment – what we did or didn’t talk about or if we talked at all. I only recall her body lying next to me in the trunk of the car when I came to. We were both zipped into separate bags. I never saw the other person, but it was a woman.” She gasped and covered her face to stop the cascade of tears.
“What now?”
“What if she were Chrissy?” Melanie asked.
“Chrissy? Hardly. There is nothing complex about that girl that would send killers to your door,” Drew said.
“You’ve only met her once. Don’t bundle all women into your limited chauvinistic, female categories.”
“Sorry. Guess it comes natural to me. Reading women is what my life has become.”
“A life of your own choosing, little brother.”
“Let’s stick to the business at hand. No one hurts you and gets away with it.” His voice sounded serious and concerned, so Melanie backed down. Maybe it would take her predicament to waken him from his party lifestyle.
“I’m just trying to figure this nightmare out,” Melanie said.
Drew nodded toward the phone. “There’s one way to find out about Chrissy – call her at your apartment, and see if she answers.”
“Good idea.”
As Melanie reached for the receiver, Drew spoke. “Mel, if your friend doesn’t answer…I mean, if someone else is on the other end of the line, don’t speak, okay?”
“Do you think the men from the woods returned to ransack the place? Maybe they were looking for somethin
g.” Melanie grew excited. After her rookie days on the police force, she planned to apply for a job as a detective.
“I can check that out later,” Drew said, “but not with you. They think you’re dead and that’s a good way to stay until we figure this out.”
“I suppose that keeping a low profile could be a good thing. Save me a repeat trip to the river.” Melanie shivered at the thought. “But it won’t stop me from investigating. Those men will be sorry they brought their business to my door.”
“Great! We don’t need any of your Southern sass. This is serious,” Drew said.
“And what do you suppose I do for a living, Drew? Every day I meet the riff-raff of society in one form or another. Sass is what keeps me on edge, so don’t give me a hard time.”
“Father hates it, you know.”
“I know, and I don’t care. That’s why I don’t live under his roof,” Melanie said. “Mom was the glue that held me at Pine-Cove. When she died, I hit the road, no regrets.”
Drew changed the subject. “Did Chrissy ever drop any hints about bad guys coming after her?”
“She’s been a bit on edge lately. That’s why we went to Georgia for a holiday. I’d never have gone to visit family otherwise.”
“It was high-time. Someone needs to knock that chip off your shoulder. It’s not like you. Weren’t you always the religious one?”
How could she tell him of her suspicions regarding her mother’s death despite the closed suicide case? Drew idolized his father, and if he ever matured, he would fit the grand scheme of the family business like a glove. “Me and the Good Lord are working on it.”
“And you can’t remember anything about the encounter at your place?” Drew asked.
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