“She knows you’ll do whatever it takes, and she knows we’re going to come for her. She’s a tough kid. A survivor.”
It was true. Lauren had been placed in the foster care system after a teacher noticed burns on her legs and arms. She’d been six at the time and had come to the Alexandria home the same year. Tough and independent and completely unwilling to be part of the family, she’d fought to maintain distance.
Just like Morgan had.
Somehow, though, Lauren had managed to find her niche, to fit in and to make herself part of the Alexandria clan. Nine years after she joined the family, Lauren was a beautiful, well-adjusted young woman. Funny, sweet but still tough as nails. Still a survivor.
“I just wish they’d call,” Morgan said, her voice breaking, tears she didn’t want to shed sliding down her cheeks. She wiped them away, but they just kept falling. All her fear and worry spilling out.
Jackson pulled her into his arms, and she went, resting her head against his chest, the tears that wouldn’t stop soaking his shirt.
“Shh. It’s going to be okay,” he said, the words tickling against her hair.
“How?”
He didn’t answer, and she leaned back, looking up into his eyes, waiting. Wondering what he was thinking. That Lauren was already dead? That they might never find her?
If he was, did Morgan want to know it?
He lifted his hands, ran them lightly over her cheeks, wiping away the moisture, letting his palms drift to her neck and then her shoulders, leaving a trail of heat and of comfort that Morgan couldn’t deny.
She should move away. She knew it, but didn’t.
Finally, he spoke, his words filling the silence. “I don’t know how it will be okay, but I believe it will be. For now, that’s all I’ve got to offer.”
“I’d rather have that than a lie.”
“I’ll never lie to you, Morgan. Not about this. Not about anything else.”
“What else will there be? We’ll find Lauren, the men who took her will be punished and then we’ll both move on with our lives.”
“Is that the way you really want it? This thing plays out and then we go our separate ways?”
She could lie and say yes, or she could give him the same honesty he’d given her.
“I don’t know.”
“I guess that will have to be enough for now.” He smiled, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.
Surprised, she stepped back. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Maybe not, but I did. I guess I can’t take it back. Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
“Morgan? Jackson? You guys in there? The police just phoned.” Benjamin called into the open door of the bedroom, his voice carrying out onto the porch.
Morgan’s heart leaped at his words, and she hurried into the bedroom, Jackson close behind her.
“Have they found her?” Morgan asked, hope soaring and then crashing back down again when she saw her brother’s grim expression.
“No, but they found her purse shoved into a trash can in the women’s restroom at the mall. House keys. Wallet. Everything was still in it. Even her cell phone. The last call Lauren made from it was to Morgan. The police are looking at security video of the area to see if they can spot her. Maybe get a look at the person who took her. They’re not releasing any information to the press, and the case is still being conducted with caution. No information going out to anyone.”
“Good. We don’t want to scare off the quarry,” Jackson said, and Benjamin nodded.
“I couldn’t agree more. I’m going out for a while.” He turned to leave the room.
“Going where?” Jackson followed, and Morgan could feel the tension pulsing in the air.
“To look for my sister.”
“That’s not a good idea. It’s better to stay here and wait—”
“We’ve been waiting for hours. I’m done with it. I know Lauren was taken from the mall. I’ll start searching there. They couldn’t have taken her far.”
It wasn’t true. They could be hundreds of miles away by now, but Morgan didn’t say it. She understood Benjamin’s need to go and do rather than to sit and wait, and she put her hand on Jackson’s arm.
“It’s not going to do any harm for him to look. Let him go.”
“It’s better if we’re all here. At least then, we don’t have to worry about someone else being taken.”
Benjamin smiled darkly. “Let’s hope that’s exactly what happens. They get their hands on me, I’ll wait until I’m with Lauren and then let them know exactly what kind of mistake they’ve made.”
He stalked from the room and down the hall. Morgan heard a quiet rumble of voices, her mother’s higher-pitched protest and then the door opened and closed with sharp finality.
“I’d better go call this in. Are you going to be okay?” Jackson stepped into the hall, hesitating near the threshold of Morgan’s room.
“Fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”
He nodded, disappeared down the hall just as Benjamin had moments ago.
And Morgan was left alone again.
Exactly the way she wanted to be.
But somehow being alone wasn’t nearly as comforting as she’d thought it would be. She stepped back out onto the porch, tensing as the sound of a car speeding away filled the air. Benjamin was in a hurry, but that had always been his way. Quick to act. Sometimes just as quick to regret it.
She hoped he wouldn’t be this time. Hoped he wasn’t putting himself in danger. Maybe putting Lauren in more danger.
If that was even possible.
Her little sister was being held by the same kind of men who’d nearly killed Morgan. Maybe the same men. And there was nothing Morgan could do about it.
Please, Lord, keep her safe. Please, don’t let anything happen to her.
The prayer welled up and spilled out, the darkness pressing in, more comforting than frightening, the sounds of the woods and of the night seeming to whisper that God was in control and that everything would be all right.
And Morgan wanted to believe it.
Her cell phone rang, the sound so startling Morgan almost dropped the phone. She fumbled to answer, her heart racing as she lifted it to her ear. “Hello?”
“I guess you decided to be smart for a change.” The silky voice froze the blood in Morgan’s veins, wiped every thought from her head. She knew the voice. Had heard it a few nights ago.
“What do you mean?” Her voice trembled, and it infuriated her. She wouldn’t let this man know how scared she was. Wouldn’t let him know how the sound of his voice terrified her.
“We’ve been watching and listening, making sure you didn’t contact the police. Your sister’s life depended on it. I guess you care more about her than you do about yourself, seeing as how you let us beat you senseless the other night. You could have saved us all a lot of trouble if you’d just told us where to find the disk.”
“Get to the point. What do you want?”
“Whatever it was you carried out of your friend’s house. You bring it to us. We give you your sister. It’s as simple as that.”
“How do I know she’s still alive?”
There was a moment of silence, then Lauren’s voice, trembling and raspy. “Morgan? I’m okay. Don’t worry about me and don’t do what they tell you. They’re just—”
Her words were cut off, and Morgan tensed. “Lauren?”
“She’s fine, but she won’t be if you don’t do exactly what we tell you.”
“I’m listening.”
“You’re going to bring us what you’ve got. You’re going to come alone. If we get any hint that you’ve been followed or that you’ve called the police, your sister dies. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve got a friend waiting for you at the end of the dirt road. He says someone just left there in a hurry. I hope whoever it is isn’t going to the police.”
“He’s not.”
“Good. S
o, here’s what you’re going to do. Run down the road. My friend will meet you partway up it. You’ve got fifteen minutes to meet him. If you’re not there in that time, your sister is going to suffer.” The phone clicked, and Morgan shoved it into her pocket.
Fifteen minutes.
It wasn’t a lot of time. She needed to leave now.
But first she needed to get the disk.
No. She needed to get a disk.
She scrounged through the small desk in the corner of the room, pulled out a USB device and shoved it into her pocket. No box, but that was okay. Until Lauren’s abductors tried to open the files, they’d have no idea whether or not Morgan had brought them what they wanted. That played in her favor. While they searched, she and Lauren could try to escape.
It sounded like a good plan. Even a reasonable one. As long as Morgan didn’t think about all the things that could go wrong.
She stepped outside, jumping off the porch and running around the side of the house. The dogs began barking, their furious warning spurring Morgan on. Past the house and the front door that was spilling light onto the porch.
She heard someone call out, but she ignored it, running full speed down the driveway and onto the road. She’d come this way plenty of times when she was a teen, running away from Helen and toward something she craved, but couldn’t quite define. She’d never put much effort into it then. Now, she ran as if her life depended on it because Lauren’s life did. Fifteen minutes was enough time if Jackson didn’t follow. If her parents and Helen didn’t. She expected to hear footsteps pounding the pavement behind her. Maybe a car engine springing to life. Expected someone to try to stop her. Half hoped someone would.
She heard nothing but her gasping breath and racing pulse.
Up ahead, headlights flashed as a car sped toward her, braking hard just a few feet away. The door opened as she approached, and icy fear nearly stopped her in her tracks. Only the thought of Lauren, scared and alone, kept her moving. To the car. Into it. Slamming the door shut. Praying that she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.
TWENTY
Jackson crouched in the shadows of the trees, frowning as the car maneuvered into a U-turn. He wanted nothing more than to jump up, race forward and yank open Morgan’s door, pulling her out and back to safety.
But saving her might mean losing Lauren, and Jackson knew Morgan wouldn’t thank him for it. He wouldn’t thank himself for it, either. So he waited, anger simmering at a low heat in his gut, his muscles tense with fear and frustration as he noted the details of the car. A Toyota. Two-door. Late model. License plate splattered with mud and only partially visible. XL-something. Turning left at the highway, heading toward Spokane.
He pulled out his cell phone, calling the local police chief and filling him in on the situation, giving him the information and ignoring the man’s orders to stay put. No way was he going to do that.
Morgan should have told him she’d gotten the call. Should have given him five minutes to come up with a plan. Instead, she’d jumped headfirst into action. No plan. No discussion. Which left Jackson with no choice but to try to follow along, see if he could keep the situation from escalating.
Behind him, a car approached, tires rolling along the dirt. Slow and cautious. Lights off. Just the way Jackson had told Morgan’s father to come.
He straightened, motioning for Richard to pull forward, then hurried to the driver’s side of the car. “Mind if I drive?”
“I don’t care who drives as long as we find my daughters.” He maneuvered over the gear shift and into the passenger seat, leaning forward and staring out the window. “Did you see them? Did you see Lauren?”
“I’m afraid not, but I did see the car and I know what direction it’s headed.”
“That’s something, I guess.”
Jackson pulled out onto the road, flipping on the headlights and picking up speed. The traffic on this part of the freeway was sparse, but up ahead, several cars kept pace with one another. Jackson closed the gap between them. Not hurrying, but not holding back.
At the front of the pack, the quarry was gaining speed. Jackson eased up on the accelerator, not wanting to catch up. All he needed to do was keep the car in his sight. Ten miles. Fifteen. Twenty. The car stayed in front of them, keeping a steady speed. Not doing anything that would get the driver noticed by the police.
“When I get my hands on that daughter of mine, I’m going to give her a piece of my mind. Going off like this. Not letting any of us know what she was up to,” Richard muttered, breaking the silence, the worry in his voice obvious.
“Has she always been like this?”
“Impulsive? Yes. She’d make a decision and go off and follow through on it without thinking of the consequences. Got her into a boatload of trouble when she was in high school. Got her married to the jerk. She’s matured a lot through that, though. God has a way of helping us grow through the tough times.”
“I’m sure knowing that didn’t make you any happier to see Morgan marry a guy like Cody.”
“No, and it doesn’t make me any happier to know she went running from the house rather than coming to us. I just pray that she and Lauren will be okay,” Richard replied, leaning forward. “Is that the car? The Toyota?”
“Yes. And it looks like he’s going to exit the highway.”
“Heading into town. Not the best area to take a ride, though.”
“Maybe not, but at least there’s traffic moving through it. That makes it easier for us to keep from being spotted.” Jackson followed the car through the busy downtown area, hanging back as it turned onto a quieter side street. Boarded-up buildings lined the road, and he expected the car to stop in front of one. Instead, it kept going, up a steep hill and into a neighborhood of 1920s homes.
Jackson put on his blinker and pulled into a driveway, waiting as the car turned onto another street. Then he pulled out again, this time with his headlights off.
The Toyota was several blocks away as Jackson turned, and he followed slowly, hoping the darkness was enough to hide his approach.
The driver turned into the driveway of a run-down house, and Jackson braked, easing the car to the side of the road and cutting the engine. Several minutes passed before the car door opened and a man got out, rounded the car and opened the passenger door.
Jackson tensed, watching as Morgan got out of the car. She didn’t fight as she was yanked to the house and shoved inside. Jackson’s jaw clenched with anger, and he opened the car door.
“Call the police. Let them know where we are.”
“You don’t think I’m going to sit here waiting while you go save my daughters?”
“The fewer people we’ve got in danger, the better.” He tossed his cell phone in Richard’s direction and got out of the car.
He didn’t wait to see if Richard was going to go along with the plan, just jogged up the street, eased up to the house Morgan had entered.
She was inside with two men who wouldn’t hesitate to kill her, and Jackson was outside without a weapon. Somehow, he needed to even the odds. Put himself at the advantage. And he had to do it before the police showed up and pushed the two men into action. He crouched low, easing through the dark yard and around to the back of the house, searching for a way in.
An old-fashioned cellar door lay flat against the ground, the hinges rusted. If there was a lock, Jackson couldn’t see it. Fear pounded a hollow beat in his throat as he tried to lift the door, finally managed to wrestle it open, wincing as the old hinges creaked in protest.
Stairs led down into the pitch-black cellar, and Jackson moved with caution, lowering the door carefully, not daring to keep it open. Seven steps down, the thick, musty scent of rotting wood and mold filled his nose. Voices carried through the darkness, faint and barely audible. Good. They were still going about their business, unaware that he’d arrived. Across the room, light spilled from a door at the top of rickety steps.
He walked toward it, freezing when s
omething grunted in the blackness to his right. Someone grunted.
A woman?
Lauren?
He turned, feeling his way through the inky blackness, nearly falling over someone lying on the floor.
He knelt down, touching soft cloth and cool flesh, running his hand down arms bound with duct tape. “Lauren?”
She grunted, bumping against his questing hand, apparently trying to hurry him along.
“Hold on. I’ll untie you.” He found the edge of the tape, tore at it for what seemed like an hour but was probably only five minutes. Finally it loosened, and he was able to rip it from her wrists. She gave a muffled yelp.
“Sorry.”
Seconds later, he heard the sound of more tape being torn away from flesh. Another quiet yelp. And Lauren’s voice, husky and dry. “It took you long enough to get here.”
“Sorry, kid. We had a little trouble finding you. Come on, let’s get you to your feet and get out of here.”
“My ankles are taped, too. The tape is tighter than what was on my mouth. My fingers are too numb to get it off.” There was an edge of panic to her voice, and Jackson put a hand on her arm.
“It’s okay, Lauren. I’ll help.”
“But what if they come back? What if…” Footsteps tapped on the ceiling above their heads. “That’s them. They’re coming. I always hear the footsteps before the door opens.”
“Lie down, hands behind your back. Whatever happens, don’t let them know you’re untied.” He hoped she understood. Hoped that she’d do what he said.
There was no time to make sure. Just as she’d said, the door was opening. Jackson slid into the shadows beneath the stairs, waiting. Praying for an opportunity to act. Praying that Lauren wouldn’t give him away.
“How about you spend a little time with your sister while we make sure the disk is what we’ve been looking for?” someone said.
“Whether it is or not, you’re still going to end up in jail. No way will you get out of town without being found.” Morgan’s voice sounded shaky and unsure, and Jackson’s muscles tensed. What had happened since she’d gotten in their car? Had she been hurt again?
Running for Cover Page 18
