Anu didn’t wait for her or Kade but rushed to the door and walked on in. “Hilary!” Bree and Kade stepped into the entry hall behind her.
They finally heard footsteps coming down the hall; then the door opened. Mason looked haggard with dark circles under his eyes. His eyes were red and watery.
“I just tried to call you,” he told Anu.
“What’s happened?” Anu took his hands in hers.
“Hilary started spotting and we were afraid she’d lose the baby. She’s confined to bed rest right now.”
“Oh, my poika, I am here.” Anu whispered. “We will take much care of her now. And pray. Where is my Hilary?”
“In the bedroom. She’s supposed to rest, but I don’t think she’s asleep.”
Anu and Bree went up the sweeping staircase and down the hall to the master bedroom. On the way Bree saw the completed nursery, and tears surged to her eyes again. Please, God, don’t let her lose this baby. She wants it so much. As they neared the bedroom, they heard the muffled sobs beyond the door.
Anu pushed open the door and hurried into the bedroom with Bree close on her heels. “My kulta, I am here.”
“Mama!” Hilary sat up in the bed with her arms outstretched, and her sobs grew louder.
Anu rushed to take her daughter in her embrace. Hilary burrowed against her mother’s chest. “Pray, Mama. I can’t lose this baby!”
Anu eased her daughter back against the pillows. Hilary’s eyes were red from weeping, and Anu shook her head as she looked down at her daughter.
“We will pray, Hilary. Never fear. God is with us in this trial. I will take care of you until the danger is past.”
Hilary nodded, and her eyes closed. “I think I can sleep now,” she murmured. Her breathing evened out as she snuggled into the pillow.
Anu leaned down and kissed her sleeping daughter’s forehead. “Come, Bree, let us go downstairs and help Mason. He is just as worried as Hilary.”
Bree followed her down the stairs where they found the men having coffee in the kitchen. Kade’s calm, reassuring voice seemed to have calmed Mason. Bree’s earlier anger with him faded.
Kade was telling Mason about the break-in at Anu’s house. Mason’s brusque, competent manner had resurrected itself as he scribbled in his small notebook. When he saw his mother-in-law, he went to her and put his arm around her. “How are you?”
“Fine, fine.” Anu waved away his concern. “My home is only things, Mason. The important thing is Hilary and the baby.”
“I’ll find out who did it,” he promised.
Bree knew he needed a distraction, something to temper the fear in his heart. She poured herself a cup of coffee. “Coffee, Anu?” she asked.
Anu shook her head. “I must go back to Hilary. She might awaken.”
The phone rang, and Mason turned to answer it. He listened intently, then hung up and turned to Bree. “We need you and Samson and the team. Quentin Siller has taken Gretchen again. This time at gunpoint.”
27
The moon hid behind clouds, and the night was as fathomless as Superior’s deep waters. Bree’s earlier exhaustion had fallen away with the call, and she was eager to get to the search. Maybe they would finally take Quentin Siller into custody and this whole scary stalking business would be over. She was certain Quentin was the one who had been watching them, and the break-in at Anu’s made a perfect distraction while he took Gretchen.
The dogs were ready to search. Kade had taken Davy to Anu at Hilary’s so Lauri and Zorro could join the search. Eva Nardi and Ryan Erickson arrived together, though Eva’s golden retriever, Riley, outran Ryan’s dog, Mickey, and leaped up on Bree, nearly dancing with joy. Though only Samson and Charley were fully trained, it couldn’t hurt to have the other dogs and trainers along.
Mason and his deputies tramped through the mud at the Siller residence. They would conduct a grid search while the dogs and their handlers fanned out into the forest behind the Siller backyard.
Karen Siller paced the dark yard, her strides jerky. Her face was as pale as the moon. “I should never have pushed him,” she gasped. “I knew what he was capable of. This is all my fault.”
Naomi put her arms around her. “You had to stop his abuse. It wasn’t good for Gretchen either.”
Karen wiped her nose. “At least she was home where I could keep her safe.”
Bree thought she detected censure in Karen’s voice, and she bit her lip. “Why did he run into the forest, does anyone know?” He couldn’t elude them on foot, not with the entire force out tightening the noose.
“His car wouldn’t start and he couldn’t find the keys to my car. I wouldn’t tell him where they were.” Karen’s words were spoken with self-recrimination. “I had no idea he’d run into the woods. He . . . he threatened to shoot me, but I knew he wouldn’t do it. Not in front of Gretchen. He has a cell phone. You’ve got to find him before he calls for a buddy to come get him!”
Bree believed the man would do anything. She looked around at her group of students. “Let the dogs smell the search article,” Bree said. Karen got out the bag containing some of Gretchen’s socks, and the dogs sniffed the clothing. Bree could almost feel their eagerness to get started.
The handlers all gave their dogs the command to search, and the dogs raced around the clearing. Samson picked up the scent immediately. His tail went up, and he rushed toward the forest. Bree followed.
She didn’t like night searches. It was hard to keep up with Samson, and the darkness hid all kinds of peril that she could clearly see in daylight, like potholes, downed limbs, and tree trunks. Naomi was to her left, Ryan and Eva to her right, as they all followed their dogs.
Bree smiled to see that all her canine students had caught the scent. Even young Bubbles, Cassie’s sheltie, seemed to be following something. Bree shone her flashlight in front of her as she hurried to try to keep up with Samson. Charley and Naomi had gone off in another direction, and she felt alone out here in the dark.
They’d been told not to approach Quentin but to let Mason and his men know when they’d located him. They had to be close by the way Samson was acting. His ruff was on end, and she realized he was agitated. Was it because he knew Quentin was dangerous? She slowed and began to look around cautiously.
Samson crashed through a thick area of brush, and she heard a man’s voice swearing at him. Quentin. Bree fumbled at her belt and grabbed her cell phone. She called Mason. “We’ve got him,” she whispered. She told him the coordinates, then hung up. The rest of the team should be here shortly.
The man thrashed in the thicket some more, and Bree heard Gretchen crying. Clenching her jaw, she wondered if she should try to rescue the little girl by herself. Mason would be furious, but it was hard to listen to those heartbreaking sobs and the way her father yelled at her to shut up.
Samson snarled softly, and Bree knew she’d have to do something or Quentin might shoot her dog. She whistled softly, a bird imitation she’d been trying to get Samson to answer to. Samson failed to come, and she knew she’d have to call him even if it revealed her presence to Quentin.
“Samson, come!” she called as quietly as she could. Maybe Quentin wouldn’t hear her but her dog would. She heard Samson yelp, and all thought of safety flew from her mind. She clicked off her flashlight, then plunged into the thicket, fighting the thorns that pierced through her heavy denim jeans. Struggling, she managed to get the thicket to release her and tumbled to the ground on the other side.
She found her cheek resting on a boot. A man’s boot. Her gaze traveled upward to rest on Quentin Siller’s triumphant face.
He shoved her face with his boot. “Get up,” he said.
Bree looked around for Samson as she got to her feet. “What did you do to my dog?” she demanded.
“You’ll join him soon enough,” Quentin snarled. “Why couldn’t you leave me alone? Gretchen is my daughter. She wants to come with me.”
“Is that why she’s crying?” Bree hoped to t
hrow him off balance. Her hand sought her flashlight hanging on her vest. Closing her fingers around it, she tried to decide if it would be more effective to hit him with it or to shine it in his eyes and make a run for it.
“No one is going to keep her from me,” Quentin said again. His agitation was evident in his voice, and he rocked back and forth on his heels.
“Where is she? I want to make sure she’s all right.” Bree tried to put a note of command in her voice, but it was hard when her throat was so tight with fear. Where was Samson? She began to pray for God’s help, something she wished she’d done before she ever started out.
She heard a small whimper and looked to her left, straining to see through the darkness. “Samson?”
The whimper came again, and she could barely make out a dark shape on the ground. “Samson!” She started to rush to him, but Quentin grabbed her arm.
“No, you don’t! You and me have a score to settle.” He roughly marched her in front of him toward the sound of the river. Bree struggled to get away. She was not leaving her dog. But the tight vise of his grip on her arm made her wince, and she was helpless to pull her arm from his grasp. He propelled her toward the water, and in the glow of his flashlight, she saw Gretchen.
The little girl slouched on a large boulder by the river. She jerked her head up at their approach. “Bree?”
“I’m here, honey. Everything is going to be okay.”
Quentin shoved her toward Gretchen, and Bree stumbled and fell to her knees on the rocky ground. A sharp stone cut through her jeans and stabbed into her leg. A warm trickle told her she’d been cut, but Bree felt no pain. Her adrenaline was too high.
Gretchen slipped from the stone and ran to Bree. “Leave her alone, Daddy!” She put her small hand on Bree’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” she whispered.
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry.” Bree said the words with far more assurance than she felt. How long would it take for Mason to get here? How would he know where to look for sure?
An urgency thrummed through her veins. Everything was depending on her. She heard a dog barking in the distance and thought it sounded like Bubbles. He wouldn’t be much help, but maybe Charley and Naomi would be along any minute. Naomi would know what to do.
She felt along in the dark, and her hand touched a smooth, round rock. Perfect for throwing. Though it was too small to hurt him much, she might be able to create a diversion. He had a gun though. A rock wouldn’t be much defense against a gun. But if she could knock out his flashlight, she might be able to get Gretchen away in the dark.
Hefting the rock in her hand, she waited. Quentin was fussing with a cell phone, trying to get a signal and failing. He cursed and threw the phone in the water. As he did, he moved so his flashlight aimed toward the rocky bank where Bree crouched with Gretchen. Without stopping to think, she let the rock fly through the air, praying as it arced. To her amazement, it smashed into the flashlight in his hand. Darkness accompanied the sound of breaking glass. Quentin began to yell and swear in a way that brought the adrenaline surging through Bree’s body.
She seized Gretchen’s hand and pulled her with her as she ran for a line of trees to her right. “Crouch low,” she whispered to the little girl.
Gretchen’s frightened whimper spurred Bree on. If they could slip into the trees, he’d never find them in the pitch-black night. Quentin was shouting and swearing for them to come back. Two more steps and they would be in the trees. Bree scooped Gretchen into her arms and plunged into the cool recesses of the forest. Bree couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. She didn’t dare flick on her flashlight.
“I’m scared,” Gretchen moaned. “I want my mom.”
“Just hang on,” Bree said in her ear. “I’ll get you out of here.” Which direction was the camp? And where would she find Samson? She’d become disoriented in her dash for safety. She thought the thicket she’d come through was to her left, but she wasn’t sure.
“Bree?”
The whisper sounded like Lauri; then Zorro bounded through the brush and licked Bree’s hand. More rustling came; then a breathless Lauri stumbled against Bree.
“Shhh,” Bree whispered. “Quentin will hear us. I’ve got to throw him off our tail.”
She set Gretchen on the forest floor, and the little girl threw herself against Bree’s legs.
“Don’t leave me!” she wailed.
“I’m not going anywhere without you. And Lauri is here with us too.” Bree put Gretchen’s hand into Lauri’s. “See, here’s Lauri. You hang on to her hand and follow me.” She began to feel her way through the trees to her right. If she wasn’t able to use her flashlight, they’d be in trouble. She could use her GPS, but in the dark they might fall down a cliff or break a leg in a hole. The rest of the dogs would have to find them. Worry about Samson gnawed at her. She had to find him.
Quentin was still much too close to use the light. She could hear him just yards away. Muttering to himself, he thrashed through the underbrush with as much finesse as an angry bear. Bree angled away from him cautiously. As soon as the sounds of Quentin’s anger faded, she felt for her flashlight. She had to take the chance. They couldn’t get out of here without light.
She switched it on, and the bright beam pushed back the edges of darkness. Gretchen’s sigh of relief was echoed in Bree’s own heart. She left it on long enough to get her bearings and check her GPS, then flipped it off again when she heard Quentin’s renewed noises and knew he’d seen the light.
She led the way as quietly as possible. Pausing at a downed tree, she listened. Nothing. Then she heard Quentin stumbling through leaves and over the rough ground. He knew she’d be searching for Samson. It was up to her. She tucked her flashlight into her belt. Her fingers closed around a thick branch.
“Be with me, Jesus,” she whispered. “Stay with Lauri,” she told Gretchen. She gripped the branch with both hands and swung it to her shoulder, then went as quietly as she could in the direction of the noise.
“Stupid dog-woman, I should have killed her right off.” Quentin stumbled through a thicket.
Bree swung the branch in the direction of his voice. She felt the stick hit and heard him groan; then the bushes rustled. She grabbed for her flashlight and flipped it on. Quentin lay in a bed of last autumn’s wet leaves, a trickle of blood oozing from his forehead.
He held a hand to his head and sat up. “You’ll pay for that,” he snarled. He got up on all fours and shook his head as though to clear it. Bree took a step back and stopped. Running away would accomplish nothing. She had to end this now.
Planting her feet, she hefted the branch. As he started to rise, Bree whacked him across the back of the head with the branch again. The heavy contact shuddered through the branch with sickening reality. He fell face first, and this time he stayed down.
Bree dropped the branch and shuddered. She knew she should tie him up, but she couldn’t bring herself to approach him. What if she’d killed him?
“Bree!” Gretchen called from behind her.
Bree turned to go to Lauri and the little girl. The brush rustled and her light shone on Kade just as he burst through the thicket.
Relief coursed through her at the sight of his bulk. “Kade, thank God! I have to find Samson. He’s hurt. And Quentin is right there.” She shone her light on the man’s prone form.
“Are you all right?” Kade started to take her in his arms, but she broke away. “Samson!”
Samson whined just off to her left. “Samson?” she called more softly. “Come here, boy.” She heard him get up and shake himself.
“You take Quentin,” she told Kade. She rushed toward her dog. He was moving much too slowly, and he staggered a bit. Moments later his cold nose thrust into her hand. She dropped to her knees and buried her face in his fur. “Thank you, God,” she murmured. Running her hands over him, she used her flashlight to search for any sign of injury, but he seemed to be fine. It was likely that Quentin had clubbed him and knocked him out
, but Samson was a trooper. He licked her face, and she laughed softly.
Mason and his deputies burst onto the scene, their floodlights lighting the area and revealing Quentin beginning to rouse from his stupor. He threw his hand up over his eyes. Mason soon had the man handcuffed.
His eyes on Bree, Kade patted Samson. “Are you okay? You weren’t supposed to go in. You could have been killed!”
In spite of his words, his tone was tender, and the next thing Bree knew she was in his arms. He was shaking, and she knew she’d scared him. He patted the top of her head, then bent to kiss her. She clung to him for a long moment, then realized she needed to attend to Gretchen. She ran her hand over Kade’s cheek. “Thanks for finding me,” she whispered.
The little girl was sobbing softly. Bree took Gretchen and cuddled the little girl. “It’s okay. It’s all over,” Bree crooned. “Want to go find your mom?”
Gretchen hiccuped and nodded. Bree put her down. “We’ll go right now. Come, Samson,” she said. She wouldn’t rest easy until she checked out her dog in a good light. It might not hurt to have the vet take a look too. The old town vet, Carson Meeks, loved Samson as if he were his own dog.
She glanced at Kade, and their gazes locked. He looked away first. With a last lingering glance toward Kade, she took Gretchen’s hand and led her from the forest.
28
At ten minutes to midnight Mason stepped back through the door into the sheriff’s department waiting area. Only Kade and one diehard reporter remained. Mason’s face was drawn with fatigue, and dark circles bloomed under his eyes. He stopped when he saw the two waiting men.
The reporter immediately began to hammer the sheriff with questions about Quentin Siller. What was his motive for taking his daughter? Had the girl been traumatized? Was Mr. Siller a danger to society? Would he be allowed to post bail? Mason’s face was a mask of impassive weariness as he answered the reporter in clipped tones. The newsman recorded Mason’s answers, then disappeared into the cool, dark night.
Beyond a Doubt Page 22
