by Alexa Grace
Paul Vance watched the scene as he sat in his car that was parked in the driveway of an empty house down the road. He couldn't get too close but he could see enough to let him figure out what was going on. For some reason, her father and the police had targeted this area to do a house to house search for Jennifer. And judging from the body language and gestures of the cops in the huddle, they didn't find her or information that would help them locate her.
Paul slumped down in his seat so Tim Brennan wouldn't notice him as he drove past to get to the main road. He fired up his car and followed.
Jennifer Brennan had spent the day concentrating on how she could escape. She'd spent a lot time considering the basement windows. They were too high up for her to reach by jumping, so she tried the dresser. First she pulled out each drawer and set it aside. Standing on one side of it, she tried to shove it toward the high wall lined with windows at the top. She pushed and then stopped to rest. Then she pushed again as hard as she could, throwing her body against the dresser. A sharp pain ripped through her midsection making her gasp. She bent, holding herself, riding out the pain until finally she was able to get to the bed to sit down. Jennifer cried as she held herself and rocked, terrified now that she may have hurt the baby.
The pain stopped and she noticed the gap left by the now removed drawer. There was something metallic on the floor of the dresser. She moved closer to see and discovered four large screws bolted the piece of furniture to the floor.
She thought about the planning that went into her abduction and imprisonment. Obviously, Dr. Caine had put a lot of thought into the room where he'd keep her. Soundproofing foam lined the walls so no one would hear her cries for help. Every piece of furniture was bolted to the floor so it could not be moved.
Why was he keeping her alive? They'd killed Ally Black. Jennifer was sure of it. So why was she still alive? She knew too much and she'd stupidly gone to Dr. Caine's office and shared with him just how much she knew and suspected. She should have gone to the police. But then, how could she have done that and kept her pregnancy a secret from her father?
It was then she felt a flutter. She moved her hand down to cover her baby bump. There it was again, a flicker of movement within her as light as the brushing of butterfly wings. Her baby had moved. Filled with wonder, she stared at her tummy. The wonder was swiftly replaced with terror as the realization hit her. He was keeping her alive for her baby.
In his hotel room, Tim Brennan tossed his cell phone on the bed and slumped into one of the chairs at the round table. He'd just called his wife, Megan, and lied to her yet again. She sensed something was wrong. He could hear it in her voice. They'd known and loved each other for a long time. She knew him.
At one point, she'd asked him where he was staying and he'd almost blurted out Bloomington, but stopped himself and said Indianapolis. Telling her he was in Bloomington would have been a huge mistake that would have led to her questions about Jennifer. She would have known that he'd never have stayed in Bloomington without seeing his daughter. So he'd lied.
He wouldn't be able to keep this secret much longer. He would have to tell her that the daughter they adored was missing and that he could not find her. The police chief had promised to keep it under wraps for a few more days before they'd go to the media with Jennifer's photo.
He thought of the next day's activities. He'd meet with his four scuba divers for breakfast in the cafe downstairs. They'd plan how they'd conduct their search of the lake, and then they'd head out to Monroe Lake. He hoped they'd find something that would lead them to Jennifer. He prayed it would not be her body.
Tim's cell phone sounded and he plucked it from the bed. "Sheriff Brennan."
"Sir, this is Deputy Tammy Short. I have the cell phone information you requested for Jennifer Brennan."
"Let's hear it."
"For the call history, the last call to the subject occurred at 5:25 p.m. on Sunday. The call was from E. Caine from Bloomington."
"Are you sure that's the name?"
"Yes, sir. E. Caine. For the cell tower history..."
"I don't need that. Thank you, Deputy Short."
Alarm and anger ripped up his spine. Jennifer's last call was from Eric Fucking Caine, owner and operator of the adoption agency from hell. He pulled his badge out of his pocket and threw it on the bed. It was time for him to act like a father of a missing daughter, not a sheriff. He pulled his holster from the closet and strapped it on. He pushed his revolver in the holster and threw on a denim jacket to cover it.
He sat at the table, opened the manila folder and flipped through the file until he found a piece of paper that held the one thing he needed — Dr. Eric Caine's home address.
Paul Vance sat in the hotel parking lot having already decided he'd spend another night there sleeping in his car. He glanced up at the full moon. The sky was clear and glittering with stars. He was parked several rows over from Tim Brennan's car and periodically glanced in that direction, although he didn't think the car would be moving anymore today. Mr. Brennan was probably upstairs in his room preparing for bed.
Paul slid his seat back so he could stretch his legs as he prepared for the long night ahead. He grabbed a red plaid football blanket from the back seat and put it on the passenger seat. With the warm June weather, it was unlikely he'd need it for warmth until the early hours of morning.
He closed his eyes for a second, but was too anxious to sleep. Where was Jennifer? If it was the last thing he did in his lifetime, he had to find her and make things right. If he had to walk on fiery coals to get to her, he'd do it. He had to make her believe he was still the man she thought he was before that night she told him she was pregnant.
He opened his eyes and noticed a man leave the hotel building. As he neared his car in the parking lot, he realized the man was Tim Brennan. He adjusted his seat, turned on his car's ignition and prepared to follow him.
Jennifer heard the sound of footsteps outside her door. The metal slot at the bottom of the door opened as someone slid a tray of food into the room. It was time.
Sitting at the end of the bed, she began rocking back and forth as she moaned. She heard movement and then the sound of someone pressing himself on the door as if bracing himself as he looked through the peep hole. She moaned louder and kept rocking.
"What's wrong?" It was Dr. Caine's voice. She'd recognize it anywhere.
"I'm having these horrible pains that started an hour ago," she cried.
"It's too early for contractions."
She cried out in pain as she doubled over. "The pain is excruciating. You have to help me."
She held her breath as he hesitated. She filled a long minute with more groaning and cries for help. She heard the key twist in the lock. Then Dr. Caine entered the room. She stood and moved toward him still moaning.
He reached out to take her wrist to check her pulse. The second he took her wrist, she slammed her knee into his groin. He crumbled at her feet, writhing in pain. She raced out the door and into the basement toward the staircase. She sprinted up the stairs until she reached the kitchen. There was a sliding glass door that led to the terrace. She ripped the door open and ran across the backyard.
Jennifer saw beams of headlights wash over the side yard and she halted, trying not to panic. A car was coming down the doctor's driveway. David Chambers could be behind the wheel of that car. She froze until the light beams disappeared. Then she headed toward the woods where she worked her way through the thick undergrowth, until she reached a cluster of trees, where she hid while trying to catch her breath. Jennifer looked back toward the house and saw no movement so she walked farther, trying to find her way to the road and help.
Lane pulled his SUV into his driveway and immediately noticed something he thought was odd. The front lights were off and the house was dark. The only light that was on in the entire house was the one in Frankie's bathroom window upstairs. He couldn't think of a reason why Frankie would shut off the front lights, and he was cer
tain he turned them on before he left for the drug store.
Thanks to long lines of sick customers, the drug store errand to buy butterfly bandages took a lot longer than he thought it would. Then once he got out of there, he was in his car when he noticed the gas gauge was on empty so he pulled into a gas station and filled up the tank.
He pulled his vehicle up to the garage, stopped and turned off the ignition. He opened his car door, and then turned to retrieve the bag of butterfly bandages from the passenger seat.
Suddenly a sharp, agonizing pain shot through his neck. Just before he lost consciousness, he saw David Chambers standing in front of him holding a hypodermic needle.
David watched with satisfaction as Lane slumped in the driver's seat. He raced to the passenger side and grabbed hold of Lane's arm and dragged him across the console until he could prop his body up with the seat belt of the passenger seat. He then slammed the door shut and went to the driver side of the vehicle. Jumping in, he fired up the vehicle and backed out of the driveway then headed toward Dr. Caine's house.
If anyone knew where that bitch Frankie went, it was Lane. Once he got him to Dr. Caine's house, there were all kinds of unpleasant things he'd do to him to get him to give her up. Once Lane gave him the information he wanted, he'd be eliminated, just as Frankie would be when he found her.
Frankie backed the Lincoln Town Car on the dirt road Lane had shown her that was located directly in front of Dr. Caine's home but across the road. She turned off the car and put her shoes on. Then she picked up David's revolver along with her backpack and got out of the car. Frankie pulled out a pair of sweatpants from the backpack and pulled them on. She tucked the revolver in the right deep pocket of her sweatpants and placed a small stun gun in her left pocket. She mounted the backpack on her back then crossed the road and set off through the woods toward Caine's house, avoiding the security gate in his driveway.
Frankie moved through the thicket of trees as quietly as she could, heading toward the house. Once she passed the security gate, she walked into the front yard and made a beeline for the front door.
She leaned against the door and listened for sounds from inside the house. It was very quiet. Frankie knocked softly on the door because she only wanted the door answered if someone was close by. No one answered so she pulled her lock pick tool kit out of her backpack. She jiggled the door with a tool and it opened easily. She shoved the tool in the kit which she placed in the backpack.
Frankie entered the house, glanced up the staircase then into the massive living area. Seeing no one, she walked quietly toward the kitchen. It, too, was empty. If she were going to hide someone in this house, it would be in the basement, so that was the area she wanted to search first for Jennifer. She remembered from the house tour given to her by Dr. Caine at the party that the door leading to the basement was in the kitchen.
Once she reached the kitchen, she opened the door and went down the basement steps taking them slowly one at a time as she listened for sounds. On the landing, she scanned the basement and noted it was very long and probably ran the length of the house. The laundry room with a washer, dryer and ironing setup was to her left. To her right was a sitting area with a sofa and two chairs along with a small flat-screen television that was mounted on the wall. Moving forward she noticed a small room that looked like it was built recently. Some of the sheetrock was exposed and looked new. She moved closer, but froze when she heard what sounded like a man moaning.
"You bitch, Jennifer! Do you really think I won't find you? Wait until I get a hold of you. If I'm permanently injured, you're dead. Do you hear me? You're dead, baby or not!"
It was Dr. Caine. She could hear him as he used the door knob to pull himself up. He cursed and stumbled into the room. She reached inside her pocket and pulled the revolver out, took the stance and aimed at him. He stopped and looked confused, as if he needed to gather his thoughts to say the most convincing thing.
"Frankie, what are you doing in my house? Why do you have a gun?"
"Where is Jennifer?" Her voice was low, filled with anger.
"Jennifer? I don't know a Jennifer."
"You're lying. I just heard you say her name. Try again."
"I'm sorry, Frankie. You must be confused. I really don't know what you're talking about."
"You're a freaking liar. One more time. Where is Jennifer?" she shouted.
Tim Brennan stopped his car after he pulled off the road not far from Dr. Caine's house. He could see the house clearly and noted there were lights on but not much activity. Was Jennifer inside? There were no cars in the driveway but lights were on in a couple of the lower level rooms. He took a deep breath and considered a bit more about what he was going to do. His first thought was to ring the doorbell and confront Dr. Caine when he answered the door, pushing past him into the house if he had to. But the doctor would undoubtedly call the police and he might get arrested before he was able to thoroughly search the house. Another idea was to watch the house until two or three in the morning then break in and search the lower levels of the house while Caine slept. He decided to get closer to the house to do surveillance.
Tim pulled a small flashlight from the glove compartment of his car and entered the woods. The moonlight was so bright he ended up not having to use it. He maneuvered the weeds and bushes as he walked at a right angle to the house guided by the light of the full moon. Deep into the woods, he stopped, leaned on a tree and stared at the doctor's house. The house was a huge brick structure and must have cost a fortune. It sickened him that the money used to buy such an expensive home was from the sale of innocent babies born into the worst of circumstances. He vowed his grandchild would not be sold by a maniac. He had to find Jennifer. He had to find her alive.
He moved forward, deeper into the woods. Suddenly he heard footsteps, and with each step there was crunching of leaves and vegetation that echoed through the woods. He was not alone. The footsteps had to be a human, because animals don't make the kind of noise that's made by someone wearing shoes. The person was moving toward him. Remembering this was the wooded area where someone shot at Lane, he pulled his revolver out of its holster and moved behind the thick trunk of a tree.
About twenty yards away now, he heard the snap of branches, then a startled cry, and a crash as someone slammed to the ground. He whipped out from behind the tree.
"Freeze!" he shouted. "I'm a law enforcement officer and I'm armed. Stand with your hands up!"
"Dad?" The word was carried on a whisper and he thought he was hearing things.
"Dad," she said it louder and moved toward him.
Shock and disbelief rippled through his body when he saw her
He threw his arms around Jennifer and held her close. Both sobbing, they held each other for a long moment, until she spoke.
"Daddy, we have to get out of here. These men are dangerous. We have to get out of here."
"You're safe now, Jennifer. No one is going to hurt you."
"There are things I need to tell you."
"Not now, honey. Not now."
Guided by the moonlight, he led her toward the road. They'd gone about twenty-five feet when they heard a gunshot in the distance. Tim pulled out his revolver again, and pushed Jennifer behind him. When they travelled further, Tim saw a man in a light colored shirt lying on the ground in a fetal position. Tim put the revolver back in the holster, and pulled out a flashlight that he aimed toward the figure.
"He's hurt. Jennifer, stay back." He moved closer to the man, not realizing that his daughter was close behind him.
Suddenly she rushed forward and screamed, "It's Paul!"
Chapter Eleven
"Doc, have I ever told you about all those medals I earned as an Army Sharpshooter?" Frankie asked as she held the gun, aiming it toward Dr. Caine’s chest.
"Impressive, and here I thought you were just a horny little housewife."
"One of us was horny, but it sure wasn't me for you. Again, where is Jennifer?"
"Like I said before, I don't know a Jennifer."
"When you gave me the extensive tour of your home, I don't recall seeing the room you just came out of. Let's take a look. Back up to the room and if you try anything, you're a dead man."
She held the gun on him as he took backward steps until he reached the room where Jennifer was held. She motioned him to the wall at the right side of the door. "Put your hands up high and face the wall. Closer. Press yourself against it. Good, boy."
She moved to a position so she could see inside the room. Inside was the twin bed bolted to the floor, a small dresser with four drawers, a toilet and a sink. The walls were covered with blue foam soundproofing.
"You bastard. You kept her locked in there like an animal? What have you done to her? Where is she?" She was close to losing it and struggled to keep her temper in check. Still pointing the gun at him, she ordered him to turn around. Frankie noticed a subtle change in his expression. Gone was the haughty, smug look he had before. Replacing it was alarm. Finally, he seemed to realize how much trouble he was in.
