by Mary Alford
Whirling in a circle, Sutter couldn’t get a visual. The footprints kept going. As they continued to follow, he finally got a glimpse of a tall man dressed in black up ahead. He had something slung over his shoulder. Catherine.
“There! On the top of that hill.” He pointed. Yet by the time they reached the knoll, the killer had disappeared from sight.
“Where’d they go?” Sutter asked in disbelief. On the ground were several sets of footprints. “Look at this. Is it possible more than one person is involved?”
James knelt next to them. “Most of these aren’t fresh.”
“This is a pretty popular spot for teenagers to hang out,” Sheriff Collins said, panting as he hurried to catch up with them. “They usually come here at night. Build a fire.”
“So which direction do we go?” Sutter asked, trying not to panic.
James pointed to a set of tracks. “These are new.” Sutter started after them, but the sheriff seized his arm and held a finger up to his lips, indicating they should keep quiet.
Trying to shut out the noise of his pulse was nearly impossible, but he listened carefully. “Up ahead. I hear something.” A clear sound echoed through the woods. Someone trudging through the snow. The killer was carrying Catherine, which would slow him down somewhat.
“We can’t let him get away. He’ll kill her if he does.” This was Sutter’s worst nightmare come to fruition. He’d failed Catherine. Just like he’d failed Thomas.
SEVEN
The jostling woke her. She was being carried across his shoulder like a sack of garbage. What was he waiting for?
Catherine glanced around, frantic. They were in the woods. The drugs made her thoughts foggy. Where was Sutter? The last thing she remembered was checking the side window of the cabin. Then the sharp prick to her neck.
She pummeled her captor’s back with her fists. He yelped when her foot kicked him hard. With a familiar growl, he dropped her to the ground, and the breath was knocked from her body.
Those steely eyes glinted through the holes in the ski mask. Something bad was coming. He pulled out the weapon he’d used before and aimed it at her chest.
Not like this! She held her hands up in front of her body and he smiled. He must have seen her fear. He was playing with her. Not done with the games yet.
“Stop right there!”
Sutter! Relief swept through her limbs. He’d save her.
The killer jerked toward the sound and fired off several rounds.
Sutter, James, and the sheriff dived for the trees. Her captor was distracted, his full attention on the lawmen. Catherine scrambled to her feet and charged. She hit his midsection and he stumbled backward, his fingers snaked around her throat.
“Catherine, no!” The panic in Sutter’s voice grabbed her attention. She gripped the hand on her neck and tried to pull it away.
“Drop the weapon!” Sutter yelled, as all three men advanced.
Her attacker eased his hold on her throat and swung her around in front of him like a shield. He shoved the gun against her temple.
“Take it easy,” Sutter urged. “There’s no place for you to go. Drop the weapon and set her free.”
Before Catherine knew what was coming, the man lifted her up high and tossed her. She flew through the air and hit the ground hard. Landed on her wrist.
“Catherine!”
She barely registered Sutter’s alarm as pain seared through her arm. The killer fired again, forcing Sutter and the others to take cover once more. She glanced up. The man had the gun pointed at her now.
She started crawling toward Sutter. If she could only reach him...
Gunshots drowned out her labored breathing. Catherine ducked low and covered her head with her hands, certain she would be dead soon. But the expected pain didn’t come. Someone dived toward her. Sutter. He tucked her beneath his body while the sheriff and James returned her kidnapper’s fire, the noise deafening as bullets landed all around them. It felt like forever before silence settled in once more.
Easing his head up, Sutter scanned the scene. “He’s gone.” James and Sheriff Collins hurried toward them as Sutter stood and helped Catherine to her feet.
“Everybody okay?” the sheriff asked, looking from one to the other.
“I think so.” Sutter studied her face before turning to the others and asking, “Did you see where he went?”
Sheriff Collins pointed up ahead. “I’ll go after him.”
“I’m coming with you,” James said, and followed the sheriff.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sutter asked, once it was just the two of them.
Catherine forced out a yes, though she felt anything but. Her wrist hurt like crazy. Still, she was alive. The killer had failed again. “He was there waiting for me. He put his hand on my mouth before I could scream for help, then he drugged me.”
Sutter brushed hair from her face. “I should have stayed closer. Protected you.”
She wouldn’t let him blame himself. She touched his face. “You can’t ignore my orders, Catherine. This guy is dangerous and he doesn’t have anything to lose. And nothing short of death will stop him.”
Sutter covered her hand with his. With him inches from her, the look in his eyes made it hard to breathe normally. Her chest tightened.
The sheriff and James came their way and Sutter let her go and stepped back.
“He crossed the creek and climbed the embankment,” Sheriff Collins told them. “We heard a car engine fire a little ways up the road. I’ve asked deputies Sinclair and Scott to see if they can intercept him before he reaches the main road.”
“He knows his way around the county. The best places to hide when he’s being hunted. He either lives here or has in the past, I’m convinced of this.” Sutter ran a hand over his eyes before he noticed Catherine favoring her wrist. “You’re hurt. Let me have a look.” He gently probed the wrist while she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. “I don’t think it’s broken, but you need to keep it immobile for a while. We probably should have it checked out—”
“No,” she responded, before he finished speaking. “It’s oke. I don’t want to go to the hospital again. I’ll just be careful.”
“Deputy Sinclair is a trained paramedic,” the sheriff said. “I’ll have him look at your wrist when he arrives. I have a brace in my cruiser. That should keep it from moving around too much.”
Reaction set in quickly and Catherine couldn’t stop shaking. She’d almost died again.
“Let’s get you to the vehicle where it’s warm,” Sutter said, when he noticed her shivering.
With his hand on the small of her back, they headed to the cabins, passing the spot where she’d been when the killer took her. She struggled to keep from being sick.
Sutter held the SUV door open and she slipped inside. He leaned over her and started the vehicle, cranking up the heater. Their eyes held. Warmth spread through her at the tenderness on his face, and she looked away.
“Deputy Sinclair is on his way here now.” Sheriff Collins’s baritone voice interrupted the moment and Sutter stepped away from the car. “The killer was gone before they were close enough to pursue. I’m inclined to agree with you about him being a local at one point.”
Two cruisers pulled into the parking lot as if on cue. Both deputies exited.
The sheriff opened Catherine’s door and introduced the deputy to her. “Catherine, this is Deputy Sinclair.” The sheriff introduced them. “He’s going to take a look at your wrist now.” A tall man with sandy-blond hair stepped forward and knelt beside her in the open door.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’ll try to be as gentle as possible.” Catherine held out her wrist and he examined it carefully. “It’s definitely not broken. Let’s get the brace in place. It’ll feel much better.” The deputy eased it on while Catherine gripped the seat with her free hand
to keep from showing how much it hurt.
“Sorry. How does that feel?” Deputy Sinclair asked.
She managed a smile. “Much better. Denki.”
“You’re welcome.” Deputy Sinclair moved away.
“Hang tight,” Sutter told her. “I’ll have a word with the sheriff and James, and then we’ll be on our way.” He shut the door and she rested her head against seat and closed her eyes.
She recognized the lake, was certain she’d been here before, yet nothing about these cabins was familiar. Could she be wrong about everything? Perhaps her brain created memories that did not exist.
Catherine recalled the house where she and her friend had been staying when the killer found them. It was real, not made up. As she struggled to hold on to the image, another far more frightening one appeared. The girl with the dark hair and blue eyes was there with them, laughing and playing. She was there when they were taken. Did the killer still have the child? The thought was terrifying.
The driver’s door opened. Sutter slipped in next to her. Her eyes shot open and she tried to steady her heartbeat.
“We need to get you back to the Warrens’.” The worry on his face scared her. “I don’t think it’s safe to take the SUV there. Sheriff Collins has his pickup truck parked at the station. We’ll use it instead.”
“We can’t leave.” She couldn’t get the little girl out of her head. As much as she wanted to cower from the monster determined to end her existence, it was up to her to stop him before he killed the woman and child. “We have to keep trying, because I remembered something else.” She drew in a breath and told him about the child. “He has her, Sutter. He has a child.”
The horror on his face echoed how she felt.
“Sutter, there was a little girl at the house when we were taken.”
“Stay here. I need to tell the sheriff and James.” He left without waiting for her response.
Catherine let go of the breath she’d held on to. Part of her prayed it was her mind confusing facts, while the other hoped they’d find both the woman and child in time. She couldn’t bear the thought of her jumbled memories resulting in more innocent deaths. Especially the child’s.
Sutter came back to the vehicle, a grim expression on his face. “For once, I hope you’re wrong, and a child isn’t involved. If he took a little girl, he’s completely changing his MO and that means he’s even more unpredictable than before.” He started the SUV, putting it in Reverse and backing out. “The DCI team will work the scene here, while the two deputies along with Sheriff Collins and James come with us.”
The sheriff and the deputies pulled out in front of them as they left the cabins and turned onto Estes Lane.
Like Sutter, Catherine hoped her memories had somehow gotten mixed together. The idea of an innocent child being subjected to the way he’d cut her with the knife—enjoyed her pain—was unthinkable.
The brake lights on the vehicle in front of them signaled it was slowing. After exiting, they drove down a narrow road with nothing in sight but spectacular peekaboo mountain scenes. Yet something about the drive was familiar. The view made her sit up straighter.
Sutter caught her reaction. “Do you recognize this area?”
She swung to him, uncertain. “I think so. I’ve been here before.” She frowned. Was it when the killer took her or another time?
“Let me know if any of the houses look familiar.” Sutter phoned and updated the sheriff. “They’ll keep driving until we tell them to stop,” he said, once the call ended.
Staring out the windshield, Catherine watched as the first house came into view. Though she was certain it wasn’t the place where she had stayed with her friend, she’d seen the house before.
“Anything yet?” Sutter asked, when they reached the end of the street.
“No. Are there any more houses around?” She’d been so positive this was the area.
Sutter checked with the sheriff. “Turns out there are a couple of older ones near the base of the mountain. We’ll drive by them next.”
He pulled onto a road filled with potholes. The county didn’t plow this far out and it was evident on the icy pavement. Right away, Catherine knew they were close.
She leaned forward as another house came into view, one hardly bigger than a garage. Someone had put a No Trespassing sign in the yard. It wasn’t the house where she’d stayed.
She shook her head when Sutter glanced her way.
At the end of the road, a cabin not much larger than the previous one showed signs of neglect. “This is it. This is the house.” Terror threatened to choke her as she stared at the place where the killer had taken them.
“You’re positive?” Sutter asked, as he observed the weathered structure.
“I am.” It must have been years since the owner stained it. Harsh Montana winters had dulled the wood to gray.
“There are fresh tire tracks in the drive,” Sutter said. “Someone’s been here recently.” He shifted to her. “Stay here. Let’s see if anyone’s home.”
“There won’t be.” Of this she was certain. The person who lived here was missing.
Sutter glanced at her again, a frown on his face. After a second of silence, he climbed out and hit the key fob, locking the doors. As she watched him walk away, a chill sped down her spine. This was where the monster came calling.
* * *
“He’s been here recently. Those tracks are from today,” Sutter told the sheriff and his partner.
“This is Victoria Robbins’s old place. She passed away three months ago. It’s been vacant since,” Sheriff Collins said.
Still, someone had been here today. Sutter stepped up on the rotting porch. The sight of the tracks set him on edge. He knocked on the door, his finger braced against his weapon. The sheriff, James and two deputies flanked him.
Inside, a faint noise could be heard. Sutter listened carefully. It sounded like...a child crying! A sense of disbelief swept over him.
“Did you hear that?” he asked incredulously.
Sheriff Collins nodded. “I did. Let’s take the door.”
Sutter checked the doorknob first. To his surprise, it turned freely in his hand. Drawing his weapon, he eased inside.
“FBI. Is anyone here?” he called out. Nothing but silence. Had he imagined the child’s cry?
The place was neat and warm, though the furnishings showed signs of wear.
Standing in the middle of the living room, Sutter listened carefully. He heard it again. A child’s cry came from the back of the house. As he and his partner and the sheriff moved that direction, the crying grew louder.
Sutter slowly twisted the knob of the first closed door and opened it. In the middle of the small bedroom, a little girl who appeared to be close to Katie’s age cried uncontrollably. She had dark curly hair and was clutching a doll in her arms. When she saw them, the fear in her eyes doubled.
Sutter quickly holstered his weapon and knelt in front of her. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you,” he told her. “You’re safe. We’re here to help.”
How long had the child been left alone?
“Where’s your mom, sweetheart?” he asked, but the little girl only cried harder.
“Get an ambulance here now,” he told Sheriff Collins, who was already making the call.
Sutter gathered the little girl in his arms and held her close. Her tiny body froze at his touch. Except for being left alone, she appeared well cared for. Her clothes were clean. Hair combed. There was no way her mother would have left her by choice. This was the place where Catherine and the other woman had been taken.
“Lily?”
Sutter jerked toward the doorway, to find Catherine standing there.
She hurried to the little girl and took her from him. “Lily,” she murmured, as tears fell from her eyes. Recognizing her, the ch
ild clung to Catherine.
“You know this child?” he asked in amazement.
She nodded. “This is Lily.”
“How do you know her?” he pressed. They would need the child’s full name to find out the mother’s identity.
Catherine’s brows knitted together. “I’m not sure. But she was here with my friend when we were taken.”
Sutter turned to the sheriff. “We need to find out who’s living in this house now.”
The sheriff nodded and stepped from the room.
“It’s oke, baby, it’s okay,” Catherine soothed, as she stroked back the little girl’s hair.
Sutter watched her with the child and emotions he couldn’t define made it hard to look away.
It wasn’t long before the ambulance arrived. Sheriff Collins came back with two paramedics.
The child refused to leave Catherine’s arms, so she sat on the bed and held her while one of the paramedics did a cursory exam.
“Lily doesn’t appear to have any injuries. I can take her to the hospital, but this lady will have to come with me,” he said, while smiling at Lily.
“I think she’s better off here with Catherine,” the sheriff assured him.
The paramedic agreed. He and his partner packed up their gear. With nods to the group, they left.
“I will see if I can get her something to eat,” Catherine told them, and disappeared into the tiny kitchen with Lily, who was still clutching her doll. A doll with no face, he noticed now. Like the ones the Amish children played with. The dolls were faceless to emphasize the fact that all are alike in the eyes of Gott. Was Lily Amish? She, like Catherine, wasn’t dressed so.
“Where does the owner fit into all of this?” Sutter asked, once they’d gone.
“Good question. I attended Ms. Robbins’s funeral,” Sheriff Collins told them. “There were no relatives. We tried to locate next of kin when she passed, but couldn’t find anyone.”
“Well, Catherine remembers staying here with the missing woman, and there are definite signs someone’s been here recently.” Sutter did a quick search of the room, hoping to find something that might give them a clue. There was nothing.
