Ominous

by Lisa Jackson

  Chapter 25

  It was terrifically hot inside her four walls, but Addie had almost grown used to the oppressive, airless cell. She’d worked and worked and worked to break the chain of her handcuffs, but it was no use. He hadn’t noticed the scrape marks she’d left on the bucket, but she hadn’t made any more progress, either. She’d have more luck sliding a wrist out of the pink-acetate-covered cuffs themselves, but since her initial thrill that she could almost get her hand free, she’d failed in that over and over again, bruising and further chafing her wrists, making them swell. The cuffs were still a smidge too tight.

  And he was coming back tonight. She just knew it. He said he would try to stay away, but he just couldn’t. She understood that now. He didn’t have to say it. He would take her and relieve himself, and then do it again, three times most often, and she would escape the moment by going to that heavenly place in her head where she and Dean were together, lying on a blanket together and looking at the stars, telling each other how much they loved each other.

  However, the last time he’d actually slapped her and yelled at her to wake up. “C’mon, honey. Don’t lie there like a sack of manure. Put your lips around me, here.” And he’d shoved his sex in her face, and she’d tried not to gag, but it had been no use.

  He’d left more tense and angry than when he’d shown up.

  He’ll kill you if you don’t get out.

  Addie gazed helplessly down at her swollen wrists. If she could just twist one loose. Get it past the widest part of her hand …

  She heard the faint sound of his truck’s engine, and her heart clutched with fear. It was a ways down the dirt track through dense trees to this cabin. She remembered that much when he’d first driven her here. Would she be able to lead someone back here if she managed to escape? She didn’t know. She sensed how isolated the cabin was, the mountains rising behind it. Sometimes she caught sight of a sliver of the moon or twinkling stars through the high window near the rafters. If she did manage to free herself, she didn’t trust that she would really be able to get away.

  She braced herself, as she heard the truck approaching. If only there was something to bash him with, but apart from the barbed wire stretched ominously through a ring on the wall, just out of her reach, the place was carefully empty. Her captor had put everything away.

  “Call me Lover,” he’d told her, when he stroked her hair after the first time.

  She couldn’t. She just couldn’t, so she’d remained silent.

  “Say it,” he’d insisted, and his hand had squeezed her breast a little too hard, a warning.

  “Lover,” she managed to whisper in a tremulous voice.

  “That’s my name. Say it again.”

  “Lover.”

  “Louder.”

  “LOVER.”

  And for that he’d kissed her hard and bitten her lip, mounting her again, coaxing her to fucking move.

  Now, she glanced down at her wrists again, stubbornly held in their unforgiving, fuzzy, pink vises.

  If she couldn’t free herself, she hoped to hell she had the courage to end it all.

  *

  Late Saturday morning, Kat pulled into the parking lot of the Wheeler Hotel, a wattle and daub relic from a previous century that had been recently painted and sported a café at street level with ivory lace curtains and antique tables and chairs clustered throughout a main room.

  On the drive over, she and Ruth hadn’t talked much. Kat’s mind had been dissecting the various suspects’ reactions concerning Addie Donovan’s disappearance, wondering if all the anger-fueled bluster and the attacks on Ruth’s, Patrick’s, and her own integrity were simply a means to hide their complicity. To a man, they had been verbally vicious … but then they’d basically been asked if they were serial kidnappers and rapists. Innocent men would be offended.

  “Your daughter with your mom?” Kat asked now, as they both got out of the Jeep.

  “Yeah. It’s strained between Mom and me now, and my father’s not really talking to me, but I just have to wait for them to work through it. My mother still wants to be with Penny, but she has trouble looking me in the eye.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kat said, meaning it.

  Ruth acknowledged that with a nod. “I knew this would happen. I’d hoped it wouldn’t, but I knew it would. But it doesn’t matter. I had to tell my story, and it’s led Lily to us, so that makes it all worthwhile.”

  They reached the café’s front steps. “I don’t see anyone inside who could be Lily,” Kat observed, peering through the windows as she opened the door.

  A server in a gingham skirt and white blouse came up to them with a smile. “Sit anywhere you like,” she invited.

  There were several older couples and a family of four with a young boy of about two, who held onto a ball for all he was worth, until he hurled it across the room. The mother yelped and chased after the ball as the father scolded the boy and the older sister drank from a straw in a glass of juice, her eyes sliding back and forth between her parents. The little boy ignored his father and tried to follow after his mother, but his father held him back. He started moaning loudly, working up to a scream, when Mom hurriedly returned with the ball. As Kat and Ruth selected a table toward the rear of the room in an alcove that could afford them some privacy, the boy wrested himself free of Dad’s grip and started howling like a banshee.

  “The check?” harried Dad asked the waitress through a strained smile.

  Ruth made a sound of commiseration low in her throat. “I remember Penny running around the room of a restaurant one time and Sterling trying to catch her. She was laughing, and it was funny, and I tried not to laugh, because Sterling did not find it funny at all.”

  “This is your ex?”

  “Yep. A sense of humor he did not possess.”

  Kat’s gaze lingered on the little boy. Two years old. In a couple of years, she would have a child the same age.

  She could see Blair’s tense face. Is it mine?

  The family collected themselves and made for the till, Dad picking up the now-sniveling boy, who’d turned into a limp rag. Their waitress rang them up in record time, and as they pushed through the door, a woman entered behind them. She was tall, and her hair was scraped into a ponytail. She wore no makeup, or very little, and her gaze skated over the room, landing on Kat and Ruth. The three of them stared at each other a long moment.

  There’s something familiar about her, Kat thought, her mind jumping to the truth just as Ruth sucked in a startled breath and whispered, “Oh my God. It’s Erin Higgins!”

  *

  It had been more than two days.

  Blair turned in the saddle and slid off Willie’s back, then handed the horse over to Mike, who’d ridden with him out to the cabins at the far reaches of their acreage, his mother’s idea for making money when the ranch had been failing. Both Hunter and Blair had considered the idea pure folly, but the fact was the cabins were there, and they either needed to be repaired or taken down. There was a side access road that could be expanded, but neither Blair nor Hunter had been certain which way to jump.

  He swept off his gray Stetson and slapped it against his leg, feeling the July sun beat down on his head.

  “I’ll take the horses,” Mike said, grabbing Willie’s reins from Blair.

  Blair watched the horses’ haunches sway back and forth as Mike led Willie and his own mount into the barn. Blair had been a little short with the foreman, not for anything Mike had done or said—he’d stayed pretty much silent after his initial comments about Kat and the pregnancy—but because the issue was between Blair and Kat, a burning secret neither wanted to touch.

  Resettling his hat on his head, Blair squinted up at the sun. He’d let too much time go by, half hoping Katrina would contact him, but it looked like it was going to have to be the other way around. With a sigh, he stalked from the barn toward the ranch house’s back porch.

  He could call her, but it would be better to just show up.
>
  *

  Erin Higgins looked remarkably the same, Kat realized as the woman headed toward their table. Older, yes, but the eyes that looked out at her and Ruth were hauntingly the same as the ones from the picture that had been distributed on the flyers her family had posted around town. There was no smile now, however. This thirty-plus-year-old woman was as sober as a judge.

  She seated herself across from Ruth and to Kat’s right, facing the door. Her tension was palpable. Both Kat and Ruth couldn’t help staring at her, and she flicked her gaze from one to the other, then toward the door, then back, settling on Ruth. “You’re Ruth.”

  “That’s right. And you’re Erin Higgins,” Ruth responded.

  None of them had known each other when they were in high school, but Kat and Ruth had seen Erin’s picture over and over again, as they had Courtney Pearson’s and Rachel Byrd’s. How Erin recognized Ruth she didn’t say, possibly because of Ruth’s fiery hair.

  “I’m Lily now. Lily-white.” She grimaced. “I needed to be somebody … pure … after he …” She stopped herself and just said firmly, “After.”

  “I’m Detective Starr,” Kat introduced herself, shaking Erin’s hand. “Do you know who he is? Could you identify him in a lineup?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. He was mostly in disguise. Part of the fun, he said.” The corners of her mouth turned down, and her eyes kept up their restless search of the room.

  Ruth said, “You’re safe here with us. Take your time.”

  “I haven’t been this close to … where he took me … in a long time.”

  “How did he take you?” Kat asked.

  “I snuck out. With my brother. And he left me in the woods, thought it was a great joke. But he was there, just waiting to pounce.”

  “Where’s your daughter now?” Kat asked.

  “At a friend’s.”

  “How old is she?” Ruth inquired.

  “Almost fourteen.” She looked panicked for a moment and pulled out her cell phone, checking the time. “I can’t stay long.”

  “We won’t keep you,” Kat assured her. “It’s just that we think the man who kidnapped you could be at it again.”

  “I know he is,” she whispered. “He won’t stop. Ever.”

  “And he may be the same man who attacked Ruth.”

  Kat looked at her friend, who said, “We need to find him. We need to know where he kept you.”

  “I don’t know where that is.”

  Kat picked up the thread. “Ruth said you escaped from him. How?”

  “I wandered around for what seemed like forever. There was a dirt road, but I knew that’s where he came from. Where he would look for me first, so I went into the woods. I wandered around and finally stumbled across another hunter’s shack. I was afraid to stay there long. Afraid he’d find me.” She shivered and hunched her shoulders in memory. “So I left and finally came across some guys camping. They looked … scary, so I hid in the bushes until one of them finally got in his truck. Then I climbed in the back and tried to hide, but I didn’t have to. He was drunk. Really drunk. Thought I might die on that ride out of there, but I didn’t care. I was free.”

  “Your abductor kept you near Prairie Creek,” Kat said.

  “Yeah … when I got away, this is where the drunk guy came first.”

  “Wheeler City?”

  “I about stood you up when I heard this is where you wanted to meet,” she informed them. “This is too close. But then he drove farther, and I stayed in the truck until morning. By that time, I wasn’t that far from Jackson. From there I called Bryce, and he helped me.”

  “Where did your abductor keep you? What kind of place?” Kat asked.

  She swallowed. “It was like the hunter’s shack.”

  “Do you think you could find where you got into the truck?”

  “I … don’t know. It was dark. I was scared …”

  “Could you try?”

  “Kat …” Ruth murmured, giving her a look. She knew she was pushing, but she was desperate for information.

  “Can you describe the shack?” Kat tried.

  “We each had a cot.”

  “Two of you?” Kat was surprised. “You and … Courtney?”

  “No. Me and Rachel. He musta got Courtney after I ran away.”

  “Can I get you all something to drink?” the waitress suddenly interrupted with a big smile, dropping off menus.

  Kat looked around impatiently, but Erin said, “Chardonnay.”

  “I’ll have the same,” Ruth said after a moment.

  They looked at Kat. “Just water, please,” she muttered.

  “All righty,” the waitress said, stuffing her menu pad into the pocket of her white apron. “You all should try the sourdough biscuits and the fruit compote. We make it fresh daily.”

  As soon as she departed, Erin moaned, “Oh God, you’re on duty. Of course you are. It’s all too real.”

  “Actually, this is my day off,” Kat assured her. Erin was on the edge of her seat, as if she was about to bolt. “You were at the shack with Rachel Byrd?”

  “Yes.”

  “For how long? What happened to Rachel?”

  “Take your time,” Ruth intervened.

  “Rachel’s still missing,” Kat said. “Along with another missing girl, Addie Donovan.”

  “I know.”

  Ruth said to Erin, “I haven’t revealed anything to Detective Starr. This is your story. Take as long as you need to tell it.” Another meaningful look Kat’s way.

  Kat forced herself to stop peppering Erin with questions. “Yes, take your time,” she agreed, though she could hear a clock ticking in her head. Long moments passed, and Kat couldn’t stand it any longer. “Is Rachel still with him?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe … maybe not. She was … they were fighting. That’s how I got away. It was her turn to play, and she refused, and I got my ties off.”

  “Play?” Kat didn’t like the sound of that. “Your ties? Barbed wire?”

  She looked blank. “It was rope. I worked on them, but he kept retying them, always so tight, my hands behind my back. He never gave me enough time to get them completely off. But I worked ’em loose, and then he came for Rachel. I knew I’d be next. He was never … satisfied. But Rachel hit him with something, and he went down. I got myself free, and she was almost there too, but he grabbed her. My ropes were off, and I just ran.” She suddenly covered her mouth with her palm, and tears ran down her cheeks. “I left her there.”

  “You had to get away,” Ruth assured her.

  “I wanted to go back for her. I really did. I just couldn’t. I told Bryce when he came to get me, but by then I knew I was pregnant.”

  Bryce Higgins … Kind of an a-hole, according to Shiloh. He’d certainly raised holy hell after Erin disappeared but then had stopped. Never once had he told them about Erin, and Kat felt anger boil up inside her.

  “Bryce told me he tried to find her,” Erin said, as if following Kat’s thoughts. “But he never could.”

  Really? Kat fought back her anger. Bryce was on their list, but Erin surely would have figured out the man was her own brother. Still, he could’ve owned up to the truth and stopped this sicko years ago. “You said your kidnapper was partially disguised,” Kat said. “In what way?”

  “He wore a baseball cap. Mask. Long-sleeved shirt. When it was time to play, he blindfolded me and warned me if I took the blindfold off he would kill me. But he screwed up a time or two. I saw him once, a little bit, when he was … with Rachel.”

  “Is there any chance it was someone you knew?” Kat asked.

  “No. But I’d know his voice if I heard it now.”

  “Wide girth. Furry skin. Thick hands,” Ruth said.

  Erin looked at her and began to tremble violently. “That’s him,” she said unsteadily. “He told me he had a sex problem and needed us to help him stay true. Without us, he would go after other women. Looks like he has.”

  The waitress came w
ith their drinks, but almost as if they’d planned it, no one took a sip. They all sat with their own thoughts, Kat’s being: And Courtney committed suicide after years of abuse … What did that mean for Rachel? Was she alive? His captive?

  As if reading her mind, Erin finally said in a voice so low they could scarcely hear it, “I think he might’ve killed Rachel. He had a gun, and he hit her with it, I think. I was outside the shack.” She covered her eyes with her hands. “It’s all my fault.”

  “It’s your abductor’s fault,” Ruth told her firmly.

  “What’s his name? Your abductor,” Kat asked. “Did he tell you?”

  Erin reached for her wine, holding it in an unsteady hand, “He made us call him Lover.” She put her lips to the glass and gulped half of it down until tears stood in her eyes.

  “Have you decided what to order?” The cheery waitress suddenly reappeared. She’d swept up behind Kat and was once again holding up her menu pad.

  “We might need another minute,” Ruth suggested.

  The cheery smile evaporated, and she turned sharply on her heel. When they were alone again, Kat said, “I know you don’t want to, but if you could come into the station and meet with a sketch artist so we could get a basic idea of what he looks like—”

  “No.”

  “—it would be easier to narrow in on him. Just your impression of him.”

  “No.”

  Ruth said soothingly, “Erin, we don’t want to push you, or make you feel uncomfortable.”

  “Well, you are. I told you I’m not going back there. Ever.” She knocked back the rest of her Chardonnay.

  “I understand,” Ruth began.

  “No, you don’t. You can’t. I’m—I’m sorry for what happened to you, Ruth. I really am. Maybe it was him, or maybe it was somebody else, but you can’t know how I feel.”

  “I didn’t mean I knew—”

  “Stop. Please.” She pressed her hands over her ears and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I just can’t do this.”

  “All right.” Ruth lifted her hands.

  Erin said, “I’ve gotta go.” And with that, she jumped to her feet, jangling silverware atop the table and nearly toppling Ruth’s untouched wine. Ruth grabbed for her glass just in time as Kat scrambled to her feet as well.