Devoted

by Shirleen Davies

  “Yeah, we heard all about that. Idiots should’ve been able to take one tiny girl like her, but they botched it up. That’s why Able got the call. We don’t mess up.” Pride infused Bert’s words. Pride Julia didn’t understand.

  Handing the remote to Carl, he left for the kitchen, returning a minute later with two beers and a bottle of headache meds. Tapping out two tablets, Julia opened one of the bottles of water they’d been given when they arrived. Handing the pills and water to Tori, she sat back against the sofa, clasping her hands together.

  Able, Bert, Carl, and Duncan.

  She didn’t remember Able or Duncan, but if they were the same size and bulk of Bert and Carl, it didn’t surprise her they’d overtaken Dylan. Nate had once told her he could take care of two, maybe three assailants. Defending against four men would be a challenge. Julia suspected at least two of the brothers were trained to some level.

  Feeling Tori’s hand on her arm, she looked at her sister, noting the bruising on the right side of her face. “Are you all right?”

  Tori leaned close, lowering her voice to a whisper. “We need to get away from them.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know yet. We need to see the rest of the house. Even if just one of us escapes, it would be better than both of us being held here.”

  “Hey. No talking.”

  Tori startled at Bert’s hard voice and moved away from her sister. Julia glared at him.

  “Both of us need to use the restroom.” Julia shoved herself up from the low sofa.

  “You’ll have to wait.”

  “No, Bert, we don’t. I’m certain there’s a bathroom. I’ll go first, then Tori, but you will allow us to use it.”

  Grousing, Bert stood. “Follow me.”

  The house was smaller than Julia first expected. Two bedrooms and one bathroom, all off one narrow hall. Shutting the door behind her, Julia flipped on the light, then checked the medicine cabinet and under the sink.

  Besides basic cleaning supplies, she found nothing to help their escape. The room had one old, double-hung window, which couldn’t be budged. Too much paint had sealed the edges together. She’d need some kind of tool to loosen and lift the window. Even then, it would probably scrape and squeal in resistance.

  The sun had already set, and she couldn’t see evidence of external lights. She also didn’t hear dogs barking, car engines, or people talking. All three she’d expect in a neighborhood with several houses.

  Using the facility, Julia took one last glance around. Inside the combination tub and shower was a discolored bar expanding to the ceiling. Attached were several small, wire shelves. One held a used bottle of shampoo and well-worn bar of soap. The others were empty.

  Then she spotted the shower curtain rod. Perhaps one or both poles could be used to break the window and hold off the brothers long enough for at least one of them to escape.

  Without pondering it, Julia knew she’d be the one to run, and the thought twisted her stomach.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Eternal Brethren Clubhouse

  “You’re certain Abernathy is there.” Wrath had the call on speaker, allowing everyone in the room to hear Fuse’s response.

  “He’s here all right. His wife is in the kitchen washing dishes. Abernathy’s in an easy chair in the living room, reading the paper. Sonofabitch is acting like nothing happened today.”

  “What else?” Wrath asked.

  “One story house at the end of a short cul-de-sac. There isn’t another house on the street. His property backs up to a stream. Water’s low, so it can be crossed on foot, truck, or SUV. Outside lights on each corner of the house. I can disable them.”

  “Do it,” Wrath said.

  “Besides the two, I don’t see anyone else inside the home.”

  “Ethan said they’re empty nesters.”

  “Hold on, Prez. Abernathy’s getting up and heading toward the front door.” Fuse went quiet for a moment. “He’s on the porch, looking around. There’s no way he could’ve heard me, so something else must’ve spooked him. He’s going back inside.”

  “Best approach?” Ghost asked.

  “Each side and behind the house. On foot,” Fuse said. “Leave vehicles on main road before turning onto his street.”

  “The wife?” Rock asked.

  “An issue. Either we lure Abernathy outside and get him away from the house, or we need someone on her.”

  Tracker sat at the opposite end of the large, rectangular table from Wrath, fingers drumming on top. If they didn’t come to a resolution soon, he’d take off on his own. All the men had Abernathy’s address. The sweet part of its location? Less than a mile outside the city limits. Ethan’s jurisdiction.

  Tracker raised his head to study the sheriff. Before leaving the service to become a Kingston County deputy, Ethan was Special Forces. Not Delta Force. Still, no one would want to mess with him. It would be worse than dumb. He’d been elected sheriff after the existing one retired and endorsed Ethan for the position. The youngest man to ever hold the job. So far, his approval ratings were strong.

  “The garage door is opening. Stand by.” Minutes passed before Fuse spoke. “Wife is leaving.”

  “This is the opportunity we need, gentlemen. Ghost will lead Blue Team with Gunner, Raider, and Fargo. You’ll approach from the back. Rock is lead for Red Team. Tracker and Wrangler, you’ll be with him. Fuse will join you. You’ll approach from the front. All black, full face paint. We can’t have him recognizing any of you. Team Red will approach and snatch the chief. Team Blue will provide cover and secure the area. Ethan and I will be in the van and approach after Abernathy has been restrained.” Wrath looked at Ethan, who took over.

  “Blindfold, contain, gag, and bind him. You’ll load him into the black van. Do not talk to him while making the move. I’ll locate his keys and drive his car from the property. We rendezvous as planned. When Mrs. Abernathy returns, she’ll think he’s been called back to work. Each of you will be given a handheld voice changer.” Ethan held his up. “They’ve been preset, so don’t go playing with them. Wrath and I will be doing the interrogating.”

  “Then why do we need them?” Tracker asked, body thrumming at the need to get going.

  “You may need to talk among yourselves, or ask Wrath or I something. From the moment we snatch Abernathy until we return him to his house, you will communicate only through the voice changer without using your names. No exceptions.”

  Wrath picked one up. “So get all your testing out of the way now or in the vehicles to the chief’s house. Again, do not change any of the settings.”

  Calling for a time check, he nodded at Ghost and Rock. “Go time, gentlemen.”

  Chuck Abernathy rose from the lounge chair to glance out the front window. Satisfied his wife had left for her weekly Bible study class, he pulled out a drawer to retrieve one of his private stash of cigars.

  Once a week, on her study night, he sat on his porch and enjoyed one of the Cuban cigars he’d been given. A favor here, another there, and a box of them would appear on his desk. It was illegal to buy or sell them in the U.S., but there wasn’t a law about consuming them. He gifted someone a favor, and they gifted him the cigars.

  Taking it outside, he sat in his favorite rocker and lit up. Resting his head against the back, he closed his eyes and thought about the money he’d get from Burn after Quintero agreed to the new terms and paid a modest ransom.

  The Batten brothers had executed the plan to perfection. Right now, the Quintero daughters were probably fighting panic, ready to do anything to be returned to their Eternal Brethren boyfriends. He and Burn wanted them more than ready. They wanted their family to squirm, imagining what might be happening to their beautiful daughters.

  Abernathy had thirty minutes before he needed to leave for a meeting with Able, the oldest Batten. Drawing on the cigar, he blew out a slow stream of smoke, unaware of the men moving up behind him. Before he could respond, a hood slipped over his h
ead, a needle pierced the skin of his neck, and a gag was stuffed into his mouth. A moment later, his body went slack.

  Rock spoke through his voice changer, nodding at Tracker and Wrangler. “Bind his ankles and wrists.”

  As they worked, Wrath drove up in the van. Ethan jumped out, not sparing Abernathy a glance as he entered the house, locking the door behind him. A couple minutes later, the garage door raised and he drove the chief’s car outside.

  Loading his inert body into the van took little time. Rock’s team climbed inside, joined by Wrath and Ethan. Ghost’s team returned to the truck at the back of the property, forging the shallow stream before following the van down the deserted street. At the corner, the van went right, the truck left. The entire operation from the time they set foot on the property until they entered the main road took less than ten minutes.

  Julia rubbed her hands down her slacks, anxious to put the plan she and Tori had devised into action. She guessed the time to be nine o’clock, but it could be later. It didn’t matter. They could do nothing until either Bert or Carl nodded off. Maybe they’d get real lucky and one of them would leave.

  She’d risen from the sofa several times, stretching to keep her limbs loose and eyes from closing from boredom. It was an odd combination, fear and monotony. If she knew why they were being held, it might eliminate one.

  Julia knew it had something to do with their adopted family. Bert had mentioned Quintero on one of his calls before taking it outside. Tori had also heard it. They’d made brief eye contact before turning their attention back to the television.

  She wondered if the brothers would ask for ransom, or if there were other reasons for the abduction. If so, Julia couldn’t imagine what. Allowing herself to believe it may be because of her family’s possible involvement in illegal activities was unthinkable. No matter what Nate, Dylan, and the others thought or the evidence they had, Julia refused to admit they may be right. Doing so would mean her entire life had been built on a series of lies.

  “How deep did the lies go?” She mumbled the question to herself, drawing Tori’s attention.

  “What?” Tori whispered.

  Giving a quick shake of her head, Julia watched as Bert stood to walk into the kitchen. He stayed longer this time, emerging with two thick sandwiches. One for him, the other for Carl.

  For the first time since arriving, Julia’s stomach growled. She and Tori had refused all offers of food, concerned about what the brothers might add. It seemed ridiculous now. If they’d wanted to harm them, there’d been numerous opportunities.

  Bert nodded behind him. “There’s plenty of bread and meat if you want to make something for you and your sister. Don’t try to run because then we’d have to hurt you.”

  “The back door is bolted shut,” Carl added.

  Ignoring them, Julia stood. “Would you like to help me, Tori?”

  “Only one of you,” Bert said.

  Crossing her arms, she glared at him. “You already said the back door is secured, so there’s no point in us trying to run. It would be good for Tori to move around a little.” It was a lie. Her sister needed to recover from the accident, not do what Julia would be asking. She held out her hand. “Come on, Tori.”

  Shrugging, Bert sat down, biting into his late night snack. Less than a minute later, he and Carl had already forgotten about the two women in the other room.

  Putting a finger to her lips, Julia shot a worried look toward the living room. Satisfied the men were engrossed in yet another sports show, she set bread and meat on the scratched, pitted laminate counter. Opening the refrigerator, she placed mustard and a small jar of mayonnaise next to them, lowering her voice.

  “You should be the one to run, Tori.”

  Eyes wide in confusion, she shook her head, wincing at the foolish movement. “No, you go or we leave together, but I’m not leaving you here alone.”

  Spreading condiments on the bread, she stacked a few slices of meat on two of the four slices of bread. “You wouldn’t be able to hold them off if I ran.”

  Tori would’ve laughed if their situation wasn’t so dire. “And you can? When was the last time you had to protect yourself from two burly kidnappers?” The look Julia gave her almost made her grin. Almost. “I’ll ask to use the restroom. While Bert is out of the room, you escape out that window.” She glanced at the window over the sink. “It’s already open a crack.”

  “Maybe that’s because it will only open that far.” Finishing the sandwiches, Julia walked to the sink, turning on the water to rinse off the knife she’d used.

  While the water ran, she leaned over the sink, using whatever leverage she had to raise the double-hung window. It didn’t budge. Julia tried again, getting the same result.

  “You’ll have to go out the bathroom window,” Tori whispered.

  “What’s taking you so long?”

  They whipped around to see Bert standing in the doorway.

  “Just finishing.” Julia pretended to dry her hands on an already dirty towel, not showing her disgust. She took the sandwich Tori held out, taking a tiny bite. “Are there more bottles of water?”

  “In the refrigerator,” Bert said. “Grab a couple and get back out to the front. Able and Duncan will be arriving soon and I want you where we can see you.”

  Julia and Tori exchanged glances, accepting any hope of escaping vanished with Bert’s words. There still might be a chance Able and Duncan wouldn’t stay long, which meant Julia could go ahead with her plan. Escape out the bathroom window and run like hell.

  Wrath and Ethan circled the bound police chief, whose body shook. They wore masks, leaving the hood on Abernathy. It was black, thick, with no chance of him seeing through it.

  They’d let him sweat for fifteen minutes, harsh lights trained on his face while they stayed in the shadows. The rest of the team stayed hidden behind a wall of one-way mirrors.

  The room had been constructed decades before in an area once used to house suspected war criminals. Made of concrete blocks, the crumbling complex drew little attention, except from the few who still remembered its existence. The number lessened every year.

  Wrath, Ethan, and Wrangler had come across it while hiking with their father as boys. It was on one of their infrequent guys-only weekends. Three teenagers and their dad having a bonding experience. Those weekends had been some of the best times of their lives.

  When Ethan left the Army to become a deputy, he’d driven out on one of his days off, surprised to see it had never been leveled. After a thorough recon of the area, he’d taken the stairs below ground, stunned at what he’d seen.

  The concrete block rooms still existed, as did the one-way mirrors. After a few days of part-time research, he’d verified the land belonged to the county. It had taken the previous sheriff some finagling and calling in a few favors, but eventually, the land was placed under the jurisdiction of the county sheriff’s department. A tall, electrical fence had been built around it, then everyone had promptly forgotten all about it. Everyone except Ethan.

  “What do you want from me?” Abernathy’s voice held an edge, as if he fought to keep his dignity and control.

  “Nothing except the truth,” Ethan said through the voice changer. It made his voice at least an octave higher.

  “About what?”

  “Why you hired men to kidnap Juliana and Victoria Stanifer, and where you’re holding them.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It hadn’t taken close to the amount of time Ethan and Wrath expected to break Abernathy, and they didn’t have to apply physical intimidation. Not that they would’ve gone through with bodily threats.

  Ethan knew the police chief well. He’d attained his office through political connections, favors, and a few donors with deep pockets. His career as an officer had been lackluster with average ratings and no citations for exemplary work. For some reason, when anything major went down, Officer Abernathy was nowhere around.

  Minutes after the chief gave up
the names of the kidnappers and location of the house, Ghost and his team bundled him up, returning him to his house. Wrath, Ethan, and Rock’s team piled into the van, formulating a plan. Fifteen minutes later, they parked on a vacant patch of land a block away.

  Wrath turned to his men. “Tracker, Wrangler, you’re on recon. Confirm the women are there and report back.”

  Retrieving their M4 carbines, they covered the distance in a short period, Tracker heading for one front corner of the house, Wrangler the other.

  Taking a look through the corner of the front window, Tracker’s chest squeezed in a combination of relief and anger. Julia and Tori sat on a dingy sofa, both nibbling on sandwiches, their gazes moving between two men. He suspected they were two of the Batten brothers.

  Touching his comm unit, he kept his voice low. “Julia and Tori are in the front room with men assumed to be two of the Batten brothers.”

  “Roger that,” Wrath replied. “Wrangler, do you copy?”

  “Affirmative. The bedrooms on this side of the house are empty. One bathroom between the two. Also empty. Moving to the back.”

  “Headlights approaching,” Wrath said. “Repeat. Vehicle approaching. Find cover.”

  “Roger,” Tracker and Wrangler responded, moving into the concealment of the trees surrounding the house.

  It didn’t take long for the almost new dually truck to pull into the drive and stop. Two men got out. Tall and broad, with thick shoulders and beefy arms. Men you’d expect to see playing football, the same as the men inside the house. The four Batten brothers.

  When the door slammed behind them, Tracker and Wrangler crouched low, M4s tucked into their shoulders, rushing back to the sides of the house. Muffled, unintelligible voices came from inside.

  Peeking through the bottom corner of the window again, Tracker saw Julia paging through a tattered magazine, as if bored with the situation. Tori’s head rested against the back of the sofa, eyes closed, hands clasped in her lap.

  The four brothers stood in a circle, one of the men from the truck talking, using his hands to illustrate whatever point he made. He continued talking, his voice rising when another of the brothers interrupted him.