by Susan Stoker
8
I can’t wait to see you tonight
Laine’s lips turned upwards in a small smile at the text. Wes never failed to make her feel good. They’d been dating for a little over a month and everything about him made her happy. He was protective, but not stifling. He was responsible and polite, and he made her laugh. Oh, he’d pissed her off too, but because she immediately called him out on his actions, they worked their way through them when they did occur. Just as he did with her when she said or did something that he wasn’t sure about or didn’t like.
Me either. I’m going to check out a property then I’m headed to your place.
Be careful. See you soon.
I will. Later.
Laine turned off her cell to save the battery, which was only at twelve percent. She’d forgotten to bring her charger today and she wanted to make sure she had enough juice for her trip back to his place, just in case. Safety first. Wes had gotten upset with her the other week because he’d tried to call her and couldn’t get through because her phone was dead. She’d tried to tell him how she was simply too busy to remember to keep her charger with her all the time, and he hadn’t listened to her, rightly so. It wasn’t a big deal to carry the stupid thing and she was trying to be better at keeping her phone charged. She didn’t want to worry Wes and she’d be upset if the shoe was on the other foot and she couldn’t get in touch with him if she needed him.
She put her cell back in her purse and climbed out of her car. The ranch took some doing to find, as it was way off the beaten path . . . but it was so worth it. The neglect was obvious, but the property was gorgeous. Laine could see through the neglect to the gem it could be once again. A porch swing was hanging by one chain on the wide screened-in porch on the front of the house. She could hear the banging of a door from somewhere; she assumed it was coming from the large barn off to her right.
The house was one story, a true ranch-style property. There was a large window in the front, which faced west. Laine could almost imagine the beautiful sunsets the previous occupants of the house had enjoyed over the years. The current owner was a ninety-two-year-old woman who’d long since been moved to the city and into a nursing home. She had one daughter who had no desire to live on the ranch. It was kinda sad, as the home had been in the Johnson family’s possession since the 1800s. But since there weren’t any relatives who wanted it, they had put it up for sale.
There had been several additions over the years and it now boasted five bedrooms and four full baths. The paperwork said it was forty-five hundred square feet, but Laine knew that when the guesthouse square footage was added in, it would easily top six thousand in living space.
It had been on the market for a couple of years, and the daughter was desperate to sell it. The woman had contacted her, wanting to switch to a different realty company, to see if that would breathe new life into the listing and hopefully to sell it.
Laine leaned into her car and grabbed her ever-present boots, remembering how she’d worn them the first time she’d been out to Wes’s ranch. The memory made her smile as she tugged off her sandals and put on the socks and boots. She wanted to walk around the entire grounds to get a feel for it personally. She’d found the best way to represent a property someone wanted to sell was to find out all about it . . . pros and cons. If she was upfront with a potential buyer, or another realtor, it went a long way toward fostering trust that she wasn’t trying to gouge someone or pull the wool over their eyes.
Appropriate footwear on, Laine headed out. She knew she probably looked silly, but no one would see her in her skirt, lacy top, and comfortable old boots. She normally wouldn’t wear a skirt while touring a property, but she’d had lunch with new clients earlier, and had wanted to look professional.
She slowly circled the house, looking at the foundation, seeing if she noticed signs of termites or other critters, and even checked the wood in places to see if it had rotted away in the heat of the sun and the harsh Texas weather conditions.
As she rounded the side of the house, pleased so far with what she’d seen, Laine stopped dead in her tracks. Sitting in front of the large porch was the ugliest dog she’d ever seen. No, ugly wasn’t fair . . . pathetic was a better description.
It had been a long time since the dog had seen any kind of gentle care. Her fur was filthy. It looked like some sort of pit bull mix. She was obviously female, as her teats hung low, as if she had puppies somewhere who relied on their mother for nourishment. As Laine took a step toward her, the dog’s tail tucked between her legs and she backed up.
“Oh, you poor thing. I’m not gonna hurt you. Do you have babies somewhere? I don’t blame you for being wary of me. Come here, baby.” Laine knelt down in the dirt and held out her hand, trying to coax the dog to her.
When it was obvious the dog wasn’t going to come near her, Laine said out loud, more to herself than the dog, “You look hungry. I bet I have something in my car that you’d like.”
She stood up and the dog made a break for the barn at her sudden movement, keeping well out of her way.
Laine’s heart broke. She wanted to hold the dog and reassure her that she’d never hurt her, but the dog wasn’t going to let her get anywhere close.
The house forgotten for a moment, Laine opened her passenger-side door to see what she could scrounge up from her purse. Thankful that she always carried some sort of snack, Laine triumphantly pulled out a granola bar. Luckily, it had no chocolate in it, so the dog could safely eat it. It was some sort of protein thing, which tasted like shit, but Laine didn’t think the dog would care. She peeled off the wrapper and dropped it onto her purse to throw away later before she shut the door.
Looking over at the barn, Laine saw the dog peering at her from the broken door. She walked slowly toward the barn, stopping when she was halfway there, figuring any farther would be pushing her luck. She broke the granola bar into pieces and placed them on the ground, knowing the poor dog wouldn’t care about a little dirt on the snack.
“There ya go. See? It’s just food. I’m sure you’re hungry. You look hungry to me. I know it tastes horrible, but you need the fuel. Think of your puppies. They need you to stay healthy, I’m sure.” She stepped back slowly, not taking her eyes off the dog. “Go on, it’s safe. Promise. I’ll stay out of your way while you check it out. It’s all yours, I’m not gonna steal it back before you can get it.”
Pleased when the dog slunk toward the food, Laine kept backing away. She stayed about twenty feet from the dog the entire time and smiled when she sniffed her offering and then wolfed it down, never taking her eyes from Laine.
Feeling as if she’d won a gold medal in the Olympics when the mangy mutt wagged her tail, Laine smiled and took a step toward her.
Startled anew at her movement, the dog whirled and took off around the side of house.
“Darn.” Looking around—for what, Laine had no clue—she shrugged and followed where the dog had gone. There was no one out there. There were a few clumps of trees here and there, but for the most part the land was empty and desolate. There was no way she could just leave the dog and puppies. Even though she hadn’t seen any signs of other dogs or of the puppies, there had to be some around. Most likely in the barn. Laine had no idea how she’d get the frightened animal, or any puppies she might find, in her car, but felt she had to try.
Rounding the back of the house, she saw the dog sitting about a hundred yards into a large pasture. She was sitting on her haunches now, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Laine ducked under the rail of an old wooden fence and climbed through after the dog. She spoke to her as she walked, keeping her eyes on her, trying to portray friendly vibes.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. You look like you need some help. Those mats can’t feel good, right? I can bring you to a lady who can shave those things right off. You’ll feel two hundred times better once they’re gone, promise. And food. Oh, as much as you can eat. Your babies will get the care they n
eed too. You’re probably tired of them nursing, yeah? They’ll get their own food and you can get healthy again. I don’t know what kind of dog you are, but I bet you’re beautiful under all that muck, aren’t you? I might be able to find something else for you—”
Laine’s words were cut off as the ground under her gave way and she screamed, terrified, as she fell. The pain radiating up from her ankles as she landed made her knees immediately buckle, and she fell onto her butt into about half a foot of water. The boards, which had been covering whatever she’d fallen into, bit into her skin and made her groan out in pain as she sat there for a moment trying to process exactly what had just happened.
Laine could feel the darkness creeping in at the sides of her eyes from the pain in her ankles, but she closed her eyes and tried to breathe deeply until the sensation passed. When she thought she was past the danger of fainting, she opened her eyes and looked up, needing to know just what the hell she’d gotten herself into now.
She could see the blue sky and the light fluffy clouds she’d thought so pretty ten minutes ago above her head . . . way above her head. She was probably around twenty feet down, with no way of climbing out. There were no hand holes or steps leading up. She was in some sort of shaft . . . if she had to guess, she thought maybe it was an old well.
It smelled musty, as if it’d been covered up for a long time. Laine sneezed three times in a row as the mold in the air tickled her nose. She put her hand on the side of her tomb to test the strength of the walls surrounding her. The dirt flaked off in her hand. It was more like clay, but Laine could see as the walls went upward, the clay made way to drier dirt. Hell, she was lucky she wasn’t buried alive. She knew as well as anyone how dangerous these old wells were. With the droughts they’d had recently, many wells were drying up and even collapsing because of the lack of water in the soil.
Laine half sighed, half sobbed, not believing how stupid she’d been. All of her attention had been on the dog, and not on where she was walking. Laine knew better. She’d been trained on how to recognize the signs of abandoned wells on properties. Had to sit through an entire class for her realtor’s license, in fact. Laine thought back to what she’d learned in the eight-hour course . . . pipes sticking up, depressions in the earth, windmills, or random pieces of lumber lying around. They were all signs that there might be a well or mine, and to beware.
Knowing she wasn’t going to be able to get out, Laine climbed to her feet carefully, and turned her attention to her immediate surroundings. She was standing in about six inches of black, murky water; luckily it wasn’t more. There were some sort of insects on the surface of the water and Laine couldn’t help but think of snakes and leeches. Figuring she was safe from snakes, thank God, as she didn’t immediately see any, her concern went to the bugs that decided she must’ve been sent by a higher power to feed them. They were on her legs and buzzing around her face. Laine waved a hand in front of her to try to keep them away.
Her ankles hurt. They’d taken the brunt of the landing from her fall. She cautiously moved one; it throbbed, but she didn’t think it was broken. Somehow she must’ve used her hands to slow her fall on her way down. Whatever the reason, she was glad she wasn’t more injured than she was. Laine didn’t dare take her boots off to check her ankles, for fear if they started swelling, she’d never get them back on.
The wooden boards lay around her, mocking her decision to step on them. She shifted and piled them up. When they were stacked, they made somewhat of a seat, which was high enough to be out of the water. It wasn’t comfortable, but at least she wouldn’t have to have her butt in the water all the time. The diameter of the well was probably around three feet, not huge, but she could turn around. When she sat, her knees had a bit of room, but not a lot. There was certainly no way to lie down. Sleeping wouldn’t be something that she’d be doing much of, that was obvious.
Laine shivered. The sunlight wasn’t able to reach the bottom of the hole she was in because of the position of the sun, and she was wet from the water she’d landed in when she fell. As her situation sank in, Laine’s heart sank with it, and she swallowed the bile that crept up her throat.
She was in deep shit. Her phone was sitting in her car . . . off. When she didn’t show up at Wes’s, he’d look for her. He was a Texas Ranger, he would use his connections to try to find her. The first thing he’d do was try to track her phone . . . but she’d turned it off to save the stupid battery.
She hadn’t told anyone where she was going either. She’d never had reason to in the past. Rose, one of her friends at work, knew she had plans to tour a property, but not which one. Same with Wes. She’d texted him that she’d be at his place later, but she hadn’t told one person the address of the ranch. She was a smart, independent woman—who made a dumb mistake not to share the details with anyone as to where she was headed alone. When she made it out, she’d not make that mistake again.
The first tear escaped her eye and Laine tried not to give in to the despair she was feeling. She wiped it away, knowing she was smearing dirt on her face, but not particularly caring at the moment.
Wes would find her. She had to believe that. He always bragged about his success rate with his cases so he wouldn’t give up on her. The only question was—would he find her before she died of dehydration or infection or who the hell knew what else?
Laine looked at the water at her feet, trying to determine if it was drinkable. She shivered; it was gross. There were both dead and live bugs floating on top and it looked absolutely disgusting, but Laine knew she’d be drinking it later if she had to. She’d do whatever it took to give Wes, and even Dax, the time they needed to find her. She had no doubt they’d be looking.
Laine wanted to live. She was too young to die.
Hearing a noise, Laine’s head whipped up to the opening of the hole, high above her . . . and she saw the stray dog. She bit back a hysterical laugh. Of course. Now the dog was curious. Now she came over to see what she was all about.
Resting her head on the dirt wall behind her, not caring in the least about how filthy she was going to be when she was finally hauled out of this tomb in the ground, she refused to think that this would be her final resting place. Laine did what any sane person would do . . . she talked to the dog as if she could understand her.
“Hey there. I’m pretty safe down here now, aren’t I? I can’t hit you, or kick you . . . or any other number of things, can I? Here’s the deal . . . how about you go and get some help. Run to the road, flag down a motorist, preferably a trustworthy one and not a big, scary, hairy guy who would rescue me only to rape and torture me to death. And while I’m asking, make it a cop, would you? You’ve got all sorts to choose from. Let’s see . . . SAPD, maybe a game warden, a sheriff’s deputy, FBI or CIA agent, and I’d even take a medical examiner like Calder. Any of them will do. Oh, I know, you can pick a firefighter. If you can get one from Station 7, that’d be great. I’ve met most of them. Then lead him or her or them back here to this hole in the ground. There’s a big juicy steak in it for you if you do.”
The dog lay next to the hole and rested her head on her paws as she continued to look down into the deep hole. She didn’t make a sound, only watched her with what seemed like curiosity.
The tears began again, and Laine felt her lip quiver as well. She wrapped her arms around her waist and continued to talk out loud. It made her feel better to hear her own voice. Made her feel not so alone. “Where’s Lassie when you need him? I’m scared, dog. I fucked up and I’m scared I’m gonna die down here and no one will ever find my body. I need Wes. I’m usually pretty self-reliant, but I’d give anything to have his strong arms around me, telling me it’ll all be okay.”
The dog didn’t answer; only lay at the mouth of the abandoned well as if trying to understand what the strange human was doing.
9
Wes paced the floor in agitation. Laine was late. Very late. Like three hours late. It was nine o’clock already and she was sup
posed to have been at his place at six. He’d texted and called her cell and gotten no answer. The call had gone straight to voice mail, as if her phone was turned off or dead.
They’d had a conversation about keeping her cell charged, so it could be she’d forgotten to charge it again. But he didn’t think so. She’d been very apologetic when he’d explained why he was so upset with her, and seeing him distressed troubled her in return, and she’d sworn she wouldn’t let it go dead again. That had only been a week and a half ago, and Wes didn’t think she’d break that promise so soon after they’d had the discussion.
Wes had called Dax to see if Mackenzie had heard from her best friend. She hadn’t. Dax and Mack had even driven over to Laine’s house to see if she was there, and Mack had used her key to go inside to make sure she wasn’t injured and not able to get to the door . . . but neither she nor her car were there and it didn’t look like she’d been home that night after work.
The last thing Laine had told him via text was that she was going to check out a property.
All sorts of horrible scenarios ran through Wes’s head. He couldn’t turn off his Ranger brain, thinking about all of the scary things that could’ve happened to her. Someone could’ve followed her and accosted her while she was isolated. She could’ve gotten in a car accident. She could be lost, although that was unlikely since she had a map app on her phone.
She could simply be doing some errands and running late. But in the past, when she’d been running late, she’d called or texted him. He didn’t want to embarrass her if nothing was wrong, but he was worried.
Deciding he’d waited long enough, Wes decided it was time to call in the cavalry.
Wes didn’t have a close contact with anyone in the SAPD, so he called their general line. His position as a Texas Ranger went a long way toward getting him immediate attention and accelerating the investigation. Typically, people had to be missing for at least twenty-four hours before a report could be taken and the wheels of an investigation started, but thankfully in this case, things were moving quickly.
