by Dana Mentink
Meatball hopped down next to her when she got out and immediately meandered to the tall grasses to sniff. She figured Rocky wouldn’t mind a canine visitor. The winding path to Rocky’s front door was dotted with clay pots containing succulents of all description. Dory smiled. Maybe the green thumb really did run in the family.
The front porch was home to a rocking chair, the blue cushion darkening with spots as the rain grew heavier. The aroma of garlic and onions from inside made her mouth water. It brought her back to high school, when Rocky would make his self-declared world-famous omelets for Chad and Dory. They’d eaten at a wobbly table with mismatched forks, the complete opposite of the neat dinner presentations offered by her mother at their formal dining table. She thought she’d never enjoyed meals quite as much as those sloppy omelets served precariously on cheap paper plates.
She’d raised a knuckle to knock when Meatball started to bark. She whirled around. The scruff on the back of Meatball’s neck was raised, every muscle in his compact body stiff with tension. His high-pitched bark sounded over the pattering rain. She strained to see, wiping the raindrops from her cheeks.
She couldn’t make out anything moving in the trees that edged the property. She clutched her phone, ready to dial the police. Or should she call Chad? He probably wouldn’t even hear his phone.
A ground squirrel streaked past so close he almost trod on her toes. She squealed and jumped back as Meatball bulleted past her and disappeared into the wet greenery. Relief swamped her nerves along with the irritation. Just a squirrel. Heart thumping, she went after the dog.
“Meatball,” she hollered at the edge of the trees. “Come back here right now.”
The rain began to fall in earnest as she called again. When he didn’t reappear, she whistled. Still no dog. Any other time she wouldn’t have hesitated to jog right into the trees and round up the runaway animal. Any other time...when memories of plummeting to the bottom of the chasm or being smothered in a blanket of smoke weren’t quite so fresh. When a person had recently been a target, strolling off alone in a strange area was off the agenda. Smart to be cautious. Chad would be proud of her.
She decided to return to Rocky’s trailer to ask for his help. A strange feeling caused the hairs at the base of her neck to prickle. Someone’s here.
She spun around, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Blaze was standing not five feet away, hands in his pockets, head cocked as if hearing a far-off noise. His damp hood clung to his head as he stared her down.
“Blaze.” The breath froze in her lungs. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer, just reached into the pocket of his sweatshirt. His lips twitched in a slight smile.
“Rocky!” she shouted. “Blaze is out here.”
There was no answer, no sign of movement from the trailer. If he was cooking, he had probably not heard her scream over the noise and the pelting rain. Her skin crawled as she realized she was all alone with the man who had almost crushed her with a boulder, someone who had used her daughter’s picture to manipulate her into meeting with him.
Blaze Turner was a wanted man, a liar, and possibly much worse. Panic immobilized her but she forced herself to make a plan.
Get away. Call for help.
There was no way to get around Blaze to Rocky’s trailer and she wasn’t sure his door would be unlocked anyway. Blaze was also blocking her route to her car. A hundred feet to her left, she made out a trail winding through the tall grass. It cut through the field, but she was not sure where it led. A trail might mean another trailer site or maybe a ranch home. All she needed was a momentary hiding place, long enough to place a call. There was no more time to think it out.
“It’s way past time to finish this.” Blaze took a knife from his pocket, flicking open the blade. The moment he took a step forward, she was in motion, running as far and as fast as she could manage.
Over the sound of her own frantic movement, she heard his pursuit. Dory’s nerves pulsed with fear as she sprinted down the path. Ahead was a bent iron gate that had once barred the road. The padlock was long gone and the gate shoved aside. She hardly slowed, pushing past. Jerking a look back terrified her. Blaze was close. His fingers reached out and grabbed at the fabric of her jacket.
With a cry, she surged forward.
I won’t let you catch me.
He lunged at her again and this time he got a fistful of her hood. The jacket pulled taut across her throat and she gagged. Combined fear and fury propelled her just enough that she yanked free of his grip, but her momentum carried her over onto one knee. She felt the thin jean fabric tear away as the rocks scraped at her skin. Scrambling upright, she ran on.
Her senses were dulled by panic.
“Stop running,” Blaze shouted behind her.
Stop, so you can kill me? Her legs churned faster, widening the distance between them. The trees closed in ahead. There she would find a hiding place.
Without warning, the ground gave way beneath her. A slab of dirt seemed to break loose. She was caught in a cloud of choking debris. The bottom dropped out of her stomach as she fell some ten feet until she landed back-first on the ground. The breath was slammed from her lungs.
When the sparks cleared, she found herself staring up into the storm-washed sky that seemed impossibly far away. What had happened?
Blinking hard, she sought to bring her senses back on track.
After a half dozen slow breaths, Dory sat up. Her lungs were working, and a cautious test proved her limbs were still functional. Blaze, her brain screamed. He hadn’t been that far behind. She leaped to her feet, sinking ankle-deep into a wet layer of leaves. Pulling herself free, she slogged to what she’d thought must be a wall of earth. Instead she found a curved section of rusted metal.
The truth dawned on her slowly. She’d fallen into some sort of decrepit cistern. The thing hadn’t been used in decades, most likely. The iron fence had been intended to keep people out. The cistern was a good twelve feet across, littered with a layer of debris. Though she skimmed her palms over the walls, she could find no ladder or steps leading up and out. Fighting tears, she moved faster and faster around the periphery. There was no escape. She was trapped like a snared animal. Her body went cold.
“Don’t panic,” she told herself. Maybe Blaze hadn’t seen her fall. She’d wait silently; send a text to Chad or the police department. They’d get her out.
Willing her brain not to entertain any other possibilities, she pulled out her phone. Please let there be a signal. Please. There wasn’t. Move to a different spot. Try again.
She’d crept only a few steps when she sensed his presence.
Neck craning upward, she saw Blaze smiling down at her.
“Stuck, huh?”
“They...” She swallowed. “They know I’m here.”
“No one knows you’re here,” he said. “It’s just you and me now.”
She swallowed hard. “I’m no threat to you.”
“Right. How much is my aunt paying you to come after me?”
“I’m not working for Angela.”
The whites of his eyes gleamed. “You lie. That’s why you tracked me here to the canyon. She was going to meet with your father at his office, wasn’t she?”
“How do you know that?”
He shrugged. “None of your business.”
“Is that why you set the fire?”
“I didn’t set any fire.”
She threw his words back at him. “Now you’re lying.”
She did not catch his reply over the moan of the wind. “Why did you come back to Driftwood, Blaze?”
“To get my money.” His tone was sullen. “My mother wanted me to have it. It’s mine. Decided to quit running and take what’s due me before Auntie Dearest had me declared legally dead.”
“Fine, then.” Do
ry fired off a challenge. “Man up and go to the police. Tell them who you are and claim your inheritance. Why are you hiding out? Afraid you’ll be arrested for the ATM robbery?”
“That was a mistake. I didn’t have anything to do with that. Wrong place. Wrong time. Story of my life.”
Playing the victim? she thought. Instead she said, “Okay, then you haven’t done anything wrong. Go to the police and you’re a rich man.”
“I’ve got to take care of some things first.”
The way he said it chilled her. “Like killing your aunt so you get her part of the family money, too?”
His laugh was bitter. “You’ve got it all backward. She deserves what she gets, and you deserve it, too, for helping her.”
“I didn’t—”
A streak of lightning sizzled across the sky followed by a rumble of thunder.
“Enough of this.” His tone softened. “Come here where I can reach you. I’ll find a branch and lower it down to help you out. We can talk.”
“No way.”
“I’m tired of running and hiding out, half starved and freezing all the time. Staying in this town is worse than sleeping in the subway. I want this over and you’re going to help me end it.”
“I’m not helping you, Blaze.” She retreated until her back was against the cold cistern wall, as far away from him as she could get.
Terrified as she was, she knew he would be a fool to jump down into the cistern with her and trap himself. They were at an impasse. All she had to do was to wait him out. She frantically tapped out a text to Chad.
Her phone flashed out the message No Service.
Not surprising since she was trapped in a big metal coffin. She pressed Send anyway.
Just stay calm. He can’t hurt you from up there. Her prison might be her salvation.
A moment later, she realized just how wrong she’d been when something sailed down from above and struck her on the shoulder before ricocheting off the metal wall with the sound of a struck bell.
Pain sparked white-hot. She cried out. Scrambling for the thing that had bounced off her shoulder, Dory snatched it up, intending to hurl it back up at him. It was a useless thought. Instead she jammed it into her pocket, scrambled for her phone to try another text from a slightly different location. Still no signal. Her breathing was ragged with panic. A familiar bark sounded loud and Meatball poked his head over the edge, darting away when Blaze threw a rock at him.
“Don’t you hurt my dog,” Dory shrieked.
“Reminds me of my dog. Dear Auntie Angela left the gate open one night and I never saw him again.” He lobbed another rock. Meatball squealed and ran off into the night. Blaze returned his attention to her, hurling another rock into the cistern that struck a stinging blow on her hip.
“I’m a really good shot. I had a lot of time to practice since I got cut from the baseball team.” He threw a second rock that missed her head by inches. It struck the metal with an echoing clang. “I’ve got nowhere to go.”
And Dory had nowhere to hide as he hurled the next rock straight at her.
* * *
When they’d finally freed the bawling cow and assessed the wound on her rear leg, Chad checked his messages. He immediately called Dory. No answer. His next call went to his father.
“Is Dory there?”
“Here? Nah. I left a couple of messages for her but she hasn’t come.”
A strange foreboding swirled in his gut as he left Mitch, Liam and Tom to tend to the cow. “Going to find Dory. She said she went to Dad’s, but she isn’t there.”
“We’ll check in with you when we’re clear,” Liam said, struggling with Mitch to restrain the cow while Tom applied the ointment.
Chad eased into the saddle, water streaming off his cowboy hat. The storm sounds almost drowned out his phone. It was his father again. “Dory’s car’s next to mine. I can hear a dog barking, but I see no sign of her. I’m going to look.”
Her car...no sign of her. He swallowed. “No, Dad. Stay there in case she turns up. I’m on my way.”
He guided Zephyr onto a path that would take him right onto Rocky’s rented property. He let the horse go as fast as he felt was safe along the rain-soaked grass. It was an easy fifteen-minute ride but he made it in ten. He found his father in a rain slicker and boots at the end of the drive, trying to coax a sodden Meatball to come to him.
Rocky wiped the water off his face. “Dog just barks but he won’t come.”
Chad slid off Zephyr. “Dory never would have left him alone. Something’s happened.”
Rocky nodded. “I searched the woods, but there’s no sign of her. Only this critter.”
Meatball whined and ran a half dozen steps, then turned back and returned to Chad before he repeated the whole operation.
“I’ll follow the dog. Call Mitch and Liam.” Chad leaped astride Zephyr again. “Go find her, Meatball.”
Please find her.
SEVENTEEN
Chad didn’t think Meatball had any tracking skills whatsoever, but the dog’s body language was unmistakable. Every few yards he would stop and wait for Chad’s horse to close the distance, and then he’d be off again. He handled the terrain as easily as if he’d had all four legs to work with.
They drew deeper into the woods. Zephyr picked his way easily over fallen logs and Chad guided him as best he could across the slippery ground until they came to a gate intended to block the road. It was open. The glimmer of his cell phone light revealed a water-filled imprint of a shoe. A small one. Dory-size. There was another imprint, much bigger, clearly belonging to a man.
His pulse roared. “Come on, Meatball. Where is she?”
Meatball whined and surged ahead.
Chad pressed on, willing the little dog to lead the way. When the branches became too low to accommodate horse and rider, Chad slid off, grabbed his rifle, shoved a flashlight into his back pocket and shadowed the dog on foot. Ahead he heard a metallic sound, a cry of pain. The dog burst into motion and Chad did, too, slipping and stumbling.
Was that movement ahead? He did not slow until he arrived in a small clearing in time to see a hooded figure, arm raised as if he was hurling a fastball. Chad snapped the rifle to his shoulder and shouted, “Put it down, right now.”
The man changed course and let loose the rock. It glanced off of Chad’s elbow enough to spoil his shot. By the time he took aim, the assailant was disappearing into the trees. Everything in him wanted to run Blaze to ground, but Meatball was fixated on something, barking and whining for all he was worth.
Teeth gritted, Chad ran to the dog, almost falling into some sort of void. A cistern, he realized as he skidded to a stop at the rim. Down below, he couldn’t make out anything. He shone his flashlight into the darkness. Still he saw nothing, but Meatball was nearing hysterics. He played the light more slowly over the debris littering the bottom. He saw her.
Dory was crouched on her knees, her head in her hands, rolled into a tight ball.
“Dory,” he cried, fear sparking across his nerves. “Are you hurt?”
She did not answer, but when he called a second time, she looked up and he saw that her forehead was bloody. Her expression was contorted in pain or fear, he wasn’t sure which. Immediately he flattened himself on his stomach as if he could somehow reach her. “Honey, I’m right here. I’m going to get you out, okay? Can you hear me?”
He heard her sob and the sound cut through him like a chain saw through a brittle branch. At that moment, he would have ripped out his own heart if it would have eased her pain.
Meatball got underfoot as he scrambled to his feet and whistled for Zephyr.
The horse ambled out of the trees and Chad fetched a rope from the saddlebag. Mitch and Rocky arrived as he was looping it around his waist.
“What—” Rocky started, but Chad cut him off.
&nb
sp; “Dory’s down there and she’s hurt. Lower me.”
In one fluid motion, Mitch looped the rope around a tree. He and Rocky gripped it tightly as Chad slithered over the edge. He hoped he would not cause any debris to rain down on her. He could not close the distance quickly enough. As soon as his boots hit the ground, he shirked off the rope and went to her.
She tumbled into his arms, sobbing and shaking.
“I’m here now,” Chad said, trying to calm his own roaring emotions. “I’m going to take care of you.”
All around her were rocks of every size, missiles Blaze must have thrown at her. As he realized what Blaze had done, the anger almost choked him. He struggled to breathe. You have to keep it together for Dory.
He skimmed her back with his palms. She was wet and he prayed it was with rain, not blood. “We’re going to get you out, okay? I’ve got a rope. Mitch and Rocky will pull us out. You just need to hold on tight. Can you do that? Hold on to me?”
She sucked in another shaky breath and nodded miserably.
He pulled the rope around him again and tightened it, calling up to Mitch and his father. “I’ve got her. Pull us up slow.”
“Copy that,” Mitch said, disappearing back into the darkness.
Chad put his arms out and Dory embraced him. Her legs were shaking so badly she could not stand, so he hoisted her. She clasped her ice-cold hands around his neck.
“Ready,” he called.
As the rope strained upward, he cradled her. Her body felt so small, her skin frigid. The potent combination of anger and fear left him dizzy. Blaze had hurt Dory. He would pay. Blaze would be punished for what he’d done to her.
He braced his boot heels to absorb the impact against the metal. It was a matter of minutes before they were clear of the rim. His father helped untie the rope. Meatball danced in ecstatic circles, yipping in his desire to get to Dory.
“Bring her back to my trailer. We can call an ambulance from there.”
“I don’t want to go to the hospital,” Dory said.
