by Sandra Cox
He stood with his legs splayed, his wide brimmed hat riding low on his forehead. He pulled it off and wiped his brow with the back of his hand, his only sign of discomfort. “Well, ma’am, that’s certainly a possibility.”
She leaned toward him. “What’s the closest town?”
“Farmton. Ma’am, would you please get out of the car?”
She gave him a flirty, dangerous smile. “Do you need to frisk us, Officer?” she asked in a breathy voice.
“Bella.” Hank’s voice held a warning.
She glanced over then turned her head away. Hank looked downright dangerous. “Now the good officer knows I was just teasing, don’t you, Officer?”
“Uh, yes, ma’am.”
He looked relieved when Sabina slid across the seat and stepped out. “Officer,” she said calmly.
“Officer.” Bella drew his attention back to herself. “Would it be okay if we drove in to Farmton to check and see if anyone has seen them?”
When he didn’t answer immediately, Bella blinked and widened her eyes. “Officer, surely you don’t think we are dangerous criminals?” Her lower lip trembling, she added for effect, “I just want to find my friends.”
The officer cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.
“If you don’t mind staying where I can see you, I’ll just run a make on the license plates.” He turned to Hank. “Could I see your license, sir?”
Hank reached in his back pocket, fished his license out his wallet and handed it to the trooper.
“You can get back in your vehicle.”
As they got back in the truck, the trooper walked to the car and picked up the radio.
“Cautious type, isn’t he?” Bella observed.
“Caution keeps him alive,” Hank responded. Gripping the steering wheel, he turned toward Bella, “Why do you do that?”
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “It’s a good distraction. It’s not like I was offering to sleep with him, shug.” Her eyes narrowed. “I trust you don’t think for one red-hot little minute that I’d sleep with a man to distract him.”
“Of course not. But he could have had his hands all over you, Bella. He’s a policeman and there’s not a damn thing you could have done about it, especially after you blatantly made him that offer.”
“Maybe I couldn’t have but Sabina here could have. Right, honey?” She twisted toward Sabina.
“That’s right.” Sabina gave a brief nod of confirmation.
“And I’m a pretty good judge of character. That young man is a by-the-book cop. He wouldn’t take advantage of his position.”
“If he had, I would have punched him right in the nose and ended up in jail. Did you ever think of that? Where would we be then?”
Before she could respond her cell phone began to ring.
They all looked at each other.
“Do we answer it?” Bella queried her heart pounding, each ring tone jangling her nerves.
“Yes.” The moon haloed Hank’s grim face as he gripped the steering wheel.
Bella shot a glance at Sabina.
Sabina nodded her agreement. The shadow of her head rose and fell eerily against the glass.
Bella clicked open the phone. “Hello.”
“If you aren’t here in twenty minutes your friends die.”
Anger churned in Bella like a swelling volcano, along with the bitter taste of bile rising in her throat. “Daddy won’t be happy if he doesn’t get the amulet,” she drawled, forcing back her rage. “I’ll be there in thirty-five minutes.” She clicked the phone shut.
“She’s crazier than her old man.” Bella closed her eyes and fought for control, breathing from deep in her stomach, forcing herself to relax and think.
“She can’t hurt her,” Sabina said.
“Oh, she can hurt her, all right.” Bella opened her eyes and stared into the dark. Hank tensed. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see his jaw muscles tighten and a tic beating a rapid tattoo in his cheek. “I just hope she doesn’t start to perform any charming little rituals on Jack.” She drummed her fingers on her legs. “We need to get going before she works herself into a frenzy.”
“What’s taking that damn cop so long?” Hank shifted in his seat and ran his fingers, in a restless gesture, through his hair.
Sabina looked out her rearview mirror. “Here he comes.”
Hank leaned back against his seat, resting his elbow on the edge of the window.
The officer handed Hank his license. “Everything appears to be in order, Mr. McHenry.”
Hank nodded. “Did you find anything out?”
The policeman countered, “Who did you say owned that SUV?”
Bella touched her amulet and leaned forward. “We didn’t, sugar but it belongs to Jack Wolfe.”
The trooper glanced at Bella. He looked a bit dazed but plodded on, “Do you know where he was headed, ma’am?”
“He had reservations at the Express Dome in Milwaukee.” Come on. Come on. “Officer, if you don’t mind we’d like to see if we can find our friend. Let me give you my card. Please call if you find out anything. If they haven’t shown up by tomorrow we’ll come in and fill out a missing persons’ report.” She pulled one of her cards out of her handbag and, leaning over Hank, handed it to the officer, making sure their hands touched.
“I think that will be fine, ma’am.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Officer, for all your help.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.” He stepped away from the truck.
Settling back in the seat, she noticed Sabina had been leaning forward, concentrating on the officer too.
Bella winked at her.
Sabina nodded back.
Hank leaned out the window. “Is it okay to leave the SUV here and go on into town to get some gas for it?”
“I’ll give you twenty-four hours. After that it’ll have to be towed. If it’s towed, it’ll go to George’s Garage on South Main Street.”
“Fair enough.” Hank gave a terse nod of his head, leaned back against the seat and started the engine. He pulled onto the highway.
Bella concentrated on the soothing hum of the wheels revolving against the pavement, trying to relax. She looked up and saw the lights of a town. “Farmton?”
Hank nodded.
“I’m going in alone.” She tried to ignore the pressure building behind her eyes.
Bella waited a heartbeat. When Hank didn’t speak, she turned toward him. “You aren’t going to fight me on this, are you, sugar?”
“You’ll be wearing the power amulet?”
She looked at Sabina who nodded. “Yes.”
“Then no, Isabella, I’m not. With the amulet, you won’t need me.”
I’ll always need you, sugar. Speechless, reeling from the answer and the use of her full name, Bella blinked. It was the answer she wanted but hadn’t expected. “Well, then…good.”
She took off her amulet and handed it to Sabina. “Collateral.”
Sabina nodded, unbuttoned her cuff, pushed up her sleeve and slipped hers off. She handed it to Bella.
Bella’s hand tingled as she clasped it in her fingers then slipped it on her forearm. Sabina did the same with the beauty-creativity amulet.
The headlights caught a large sign welcoming them to Farmton.
“I’m going to have to drop you off in town.” Bella shifted her hips in the seat, looking for a more comfortable spot to sit.
Hank nodded. “There’s an all-night diner a block up and to the right.” At the next block, he turned right and pulled in front of a dingy, poorly lit diner. Through the glass they could see a couple of men on barstools sipping from white coffee mugs and a young couple giggling in a booth in front of the plate glass window. Hank put the truck in park and let it idle. “Place doesn’t look like much but it’s got the best pie in the entire state of Wisconsin.”
“I’ll have to try it sometime. I love pie.” Bella dry-washed her hands, her only sign of agitation.
Sabina opened the door. “The gods speed.” She stepped out, shut the door and waited on the sidewalk.
Hank looked at Bella for a long, long moment then grabbed her face between his hands and kissed her, hard. Without another word he opened the truck door and stepped out.
Bella blinked, dazed.
He shut the door then stood there, his hands resting on the ledge of the open window. “Stay out of trouble.”
“Eat a piece of pie for me,” she replied, scooting over to the driver’s side.
“What’s your favorite?” Hank lounged against the truck as if he had all the time in the world.
“I like them all but I claim blackberry.”
“Blackberry it is then.”
Their gazes locked.
Bella’s lips parted.
Hank’s eyes darkened.
On impulse she reached out of the truck, grabbed him by the collar, pulled him to her and planted a long, moist kiss on his lips.
With great reluctance, she lifted her throbbing mouth from his. Straightening, she put the truck in drive. “I’ll be back.”
“I’m counting on it.” He stepped back from the truck.
She tapped the gas pedal.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stood in the street and watched her drive off.
“She’ll be all right,” Sabina said from the sidewalk.
He waited until the truck’s lights disappeared then joined Sabina. “That was a brave thing you did entrusting her with your amulet. You don’t really know us. What if all this is just an elaborate hoax?”
“Then I’ll have to destroy you.”
He reached for his hat that wasn’t there and ran his fingers through his hair instead, leaving it standing on end. “Gottcha.”
Using her thumb, she reached up and ran it under his lip.
Hank jumped back like he’d been scalded.
She held up her thumb for him to see under the lamplight. “Lipstick, bright red.”
“Just be careful, you’re wearing the beauty amulet now.”
She laughed. “Gets to you, does it?”
“Me and every red-blooded male for a fifty-mile radius.”
She looked up at him, judging, assessing and finally smiling. “I don’t think I’ve got to worry about you, Hank McHenry.”
He rocked on his heels. “Of course, you don’t,” he snapped. “That doesn’t mean I like having my equilibrium tossed around.”
“I’ll remember that,” she said, biting down on her lips until they formed a straight line that kept trying to tilt upward. “So are we going to try some of that famous pie?”
“I’m afraid that treat is going to have to wait.” He started to walk and she fell in beside him, her heels clicking against the sidewalk.
She looked at him and arched a brow, a questioning gesture.
“See that gas station on the corner?” He tipped his head toward the other side of the street.
“Yes.”
“Everybody who works in a gas station has a buddy who’s a mechanic. We are going to get the name of a mechanic and pay him an exorbitant amount of money to get that SUV fixed ASAP. I think the fuel line has a hole in it. They would want something that would get the SUV a good distance from the house before it died. So I’m betting a can of gasoline and either a new hose or some good duct tape will put us back in business.” Determination surged through him. “And then we find Bella, Maureen and Jack.”
“You are not to be trusted.”
“Really?” He looked down at her.
She smiled. It softened her features and lit up her face, giving her a Madonna quality that startled Hank. “At least not about agreeing to sit idly by when someone you care about is in danger. I think you could be trusted with anything else, including our lives.”
* * * * *
The sky overhead was gray and a heavy mist hung in the air. Didn’t the sun ever shine in this gods-forsaken place? He watched Striker stride toward him. Even though he, Victor, was a god and Striker couldn’t hurt him, for just a moment he felt a raw frisson of fear travel up his spine, chilling him.
Striker stopped in front of him, his back to the guard. He pulled a switchblade and held it in the cusp of his hand, his stance menacing. “I’m not willing to wait much longer, Price.”
“We’ll be out of here within forty-eight hours.” Victor’s nostrils flared with disdain. Who did this thug of a mortal think he was, threatening a god?
Chapter Twelve
Bella drove with the window down, the cool night air blowing her hair and roughening her skin with goose bumps. There was no traffic and no lights. She looked at the odometer. She’d gone five point seven miles. Squinting, she leaned forward, clicked on the high beam and took her foot off the gas, slowing the truck. There was the turn, she’d nearly shot past it! She slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel to the left.
Her hands tightened on the wheel. They’d never gotten the password for Billie Jones’ phone. Would it have made a difference? I can’t think about that now.
She took a deep breath, two more miles. Pine and oak lined the dirt lane. When she hit a pothole, she bounced on the seat like a jumping jack. She grimaced, better not to think about Jack right now. A glance at the odometer told her she had one mile to go. Slowing, she dimmed her lights.
Creeping along at ten miles an hour, she kept a close eye on the odometer. When she’d gone another three-quarters of a mile, she pulled the truck off the road, turned off the engine and cut the lights.
Opening the door, she stepped out of the truck and leaned against it, letting her eyes adjust to the night. The wind soughing through the pines hit her in the face and blew her hair straight back, bringing tears to her eyes. In the distance, a coyote howled. She shivered and rubbed her arms, touching the amulet on her forearm. Power surged through her. She pushed herself away from the truck and began to walk.
She’d gone about four yards when she heard a rustling on her left. Mindful of the coyote, she spun around. A deer charged through the underbrush, crossed the road almost in front of her and disappeared into the pines. Her breath came out in a shaky whoosh as she clutched her heart and forced herself to move forward.
Her eyes adjusted to the night. Eerie shadows, from the trees, lined the lane like gaunt skeletons. A dim light shone to her right. The house.
Glancing around, she bent low and ran up the drive. She stopped in the shadows several yards from the dilapidated structure. A dark sedan was parked in the driveway. Moths fluttered under the porch light, which was dim and yellow from dirt and dust.
She inched forward. The lights in the front rooms of the house were off. She stole ‘round the side to the back and saw a dim light glowing from a window. Hunkered down, she crept toward it.
Looking up at the window, she sighed. It was just out of reach. At times like this, she would sell her soul for a few more inches. Standing on tiptoe, she grabbed the windowsill, pulled herself up and hung on, fervently hoping no one would glance out the window.
Her nose pressed against the dirty glass, she swallowed a gasp. The back of black trousers was inches from her face. Craning her neck, she looked up. Billie Jones, the punk who’d attacked her and Maureen, stood in front of the window, his legs splayed. Inching to the right, she stretched and peeped around him.
Jack lay on his back on the dirty floor, his arms and legs bound, his eyes closed. Maureen sat pressed next to him, her hands and feet tied, her knees drawn up to her chest.
Victoria circled them like a rabid dog, waving a gun in Maureen’s face. Even through the dirty window, Bella could see the glowing light of madness in her eyes. A dribble of white foam formed at the corner of her mouth and trickled down her chin. With a careless swipe, she wiped it away.
Victoria glanced at her watch and smiled. A macabre stretching of the lips that made Bella shudder, she could just imagine how poor Maureen must feel.
Victoria raised her gun and pointed it at Maureen’s head.
Han
ging by one hand, Bella jerked her rigid arm at the light and concentrated. The light bulb shattered in a million pieces at the same time a gunshot sounded.
Jesus Christ! At least the gun was pointed at Maureen, as long as she had the amulet on, she would survive… If she had the amulet on.
Bella dropped to the ground and ran around the side of the house. She shot her arm up and focused on the porch light. With a pop, it went out, leaving the night in darkness except for the moon drifting in and out of clouds and Bella wasn’t sure even the amulet could take on Mother Nature.
Flattened against the side of the house, she reached over and pushed open the front door. The rusty hinge shrieked like a screech owl. She heard running steps and a wild shot. Damn, what now?
Bella backed up as the footsteps got closer. Mist enveloped her like a ghost’s shroud. The moon came out at the same time Billie Jones stepped onto the porch, waving a gun.
His head swiveled in her direction. Their eyes locked. “You,” he snarled and raised his gun.
Bella’s arm shot out. His gun went flying toward her and would have hit her in the head if she hadn’t ducked. “Guess I need to work on that,” she muttered then shot her arm out again.
Step by unwilling step, Billie Jones backed up ‘til his back was pressed against the house, his arms extended like a grotesque representation of one of Da Vinci’s more famous works. He struggled but couldn’t move. “What are you doing to me?” he screamed, obscenities flying from his mouth.
“Later, Billie.” She made her way into the dark house. Standing in the shadows, she waited for her eyes to adjust. The room was empty except for a few pieces of furniture with dustcovers thrown over them.
Victoria’s muffled voice came from the back of the house. “Billie, where are you, baby?”
Some women have no taste in men. Bella shook her head. Then again, maybe it’s a match made in heaven, or hell as the case may be. She crept forward her back pressed against the wall, feeling gritty dirt beneath her fingertips.
“Billie, where are you?” Victoria called out, hysteria edging her voice.
Moving fast, Bella followed the sound. Keep talking, Victoria.
