by West, Dahlia
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Caleb had gone outside to meet a squad car that pulled up. It seemed that the officers assigned to the house were changing shifts. Chris picked up the phone to try Hayley’s cell again with Caleb burst back through the door. “They found her!”
Hawk, Tex, and Easy scrambled out of their seats.
“Is she alive?” Easy blurted out.
“Yes,” Caleb said, “but she’s hurt.”
“How badly?” Chris demanded, practically sprinting to the door.
“I don’t know,” Caleb admitted. “The dispatcher didn’t say.”
Instead of taking the truck, all of them piled into two RCPD squad cars that peeled away from the curb as soon as the doors shut. It was over a hundred miles an hour this time, as well, but at least they had the benefit of lights and sirens this time.
It was farther from Rapid City to Lead than it was from RC to Sturgis and Chris was white-knuckling it the whole way. Caleb even pulled his cruiser up to the ER doors rather than park to let Chris and Tex out.
Chris sprinted through the doors and sought out the triage nurse. He had to explain who he was twice and she still wasn’t inclined to let them through until Caleb showed up, having parked the car, and flashed his badge. Everyone except Chris stayed behind and Caleb escorted him through the secure doors.
A doctor and a Sheriff were speaking in hushed tones in the hallway and Caleb strode purposefully toward them. He flashed his badge again and both men eyed Caleb and Chris. The doctor introduced himself as the one who’d treated Hayley when she first arrived in the Emergency Room. The Sheriff introduced himself as Hal Klines from here in Lead. Caleb introduced Chris as Hayley’s fiancee, which caused some suspicion since the media had only released her real name and photo. Caleb had to explain that Hayley was in hiding from the very man who’d taken her and that seemed to garner some sympathy from both men. Chris didn’t argue about the fiancee part since he knew it would give him greater access to Hayley.
Caleb remained silent and melted into the background as the Doctor described Hayley’s injuries to Chris. The Doctor kept his voice low. “She says she wasn’t raped,” he told Chris, as well as the Sheriff who was still with them. “But the nurse found blood in her underwear. So far she’s refusing a rape kit. She’s exhausted and traumatized and she’s resting right now.”
“Where is he?” Chris demanded. “How did she get away?” If he was still out there, he could try for her again. And Lead Regional wasn’t as secure as a hospital in a larger city.
The Sheriff looked grim. “Well, based on the reports of my deputies when they checked out the cabin, I’d say traumatized about fits the bill. He’s dead, Mr. Sullivan. Apparently she was forced to stab him to death with some broken glass. Now that’s a helluva thing for a woman, for anyone, to have to do. But he’s ‘caught’, so-to-speak. He’s right where he needs to be. So if she needs to take her time coming to terms with what happened, well, she’s got time.”
Chris nodded, thanked the Doctor and the Sheriff and ducked into the private room.
She was lying in bed, eyes closed, face toward the window. She looked so...damaged...was the first word that came to his mind. She’d clearly been struck full force in the face judging by the bruise on her cheek and her right hand was bandaged.
“Baby,” he said softly.
She opened her eyes and turned her head to him. He felt his entire body relax. Until now he hadn’t let himself believe it was over. Not even when Doc had announced she’d been found. It wasn’t until he could see her that he’d allow himself to let go of all the fear, anxiety, and rage he’d been holding in.
Hayley’s bottom lip trembled and tears started to well up in her eyes. This finally jerked Chris out of his stupor. He jumped forward, toward the bed. “Hey. Hey, now,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and cupping her swollen face in his hand. “It’s over, Hayley. He’s gone. I’m here.”
She struggled to sit up and when she did he put his arms around her. She cried into his shoulder and all his guilt surged up again. He hated that he couldn’t protect her, hadn’t protected her, even though he’d sworn he would. And here she was, having to pick up the pieces all over again.
“It doesn’t feel like it’s over,” she sobbed.
Chris tightened his hold on her. “That’s because it just happened. It’ll take time, baby. But he can’t hurt you anymore. That much is absolutely true.”
She pulled away from him and gingerly wiped face. He winced inwardly, knowing how much pain she was in physically as well as emotionally. He hated that he could take away neither.
“I want to go home,” she told him.
And those words, while not “She’s dead,” or “I don’t think we’ll ever find her,” put a knife into his own heart all the same. Because all he had to do was look into her eyes to see which home she meant.
Steeling himself against the ever-expanding pain in his chest, he nodded to her. “I’ll call them, baby. They’ll be here soon.”
Chapter 37
Chris zipped up his jacket on his way toward his Harley. It was September now, the leaves were turning, and though the afternoons were nice, the evenings were getting colder. It was dark now every night when he forced himself to finish up at the garage and head home. He straddled the Harley and fired up the engine. He rolled out of the Burnout parking lot, but instead of turning right, he turned his now-usual left and gunned the engine.
The lights of the city gave way to long shadows. He passed rolling fields, dimly lit by the flood lights of barns nestled back from the road. He headed toward the hills that he knew were there but couldn’t see in the dark. He’d driven this way enough times now in the last two weeks to know it, even by moonlight. He wound his way up the hills, through the brush pine. The road was gravel not paved and would require snow chains to navigate in just a few months.
He nosed the bike off the county road and up a small one lane drive, climbing higher in the hills outside Rapid City. His approach triggered motion lights mounted high on both sides. He rolled to a stop in the circular drive and killed the Harley’s engine.
It was a two story log cabin, built in the 40’s. And frankly, it looked it. He was honest about that. Easy had taken one look at it and declared it a roach motel. But then the sullen younger man had put on his work gloves and helped Chris pull up the baseboards that had cracked over the years.
In the weeks since her parents had taken her back to Raleigh, Chris had spent his nights driving around. Sometimes in town. Sometimes on the open road. Occasionally exploring the back roads that threaded through the hills. It was better being in an empty house. Pepper was still there, but seeing her only reminded him that Sarah wasn’t.
They guys had taken to calling her that, when they asked about her, which was pretty frequently at first, but had dwindled now only occasionally. They weren’t blind to the fact that the longer Sarah was gone, the more surly their former Lieutenant had gotten.
It hadn’t taken more than a week of night exploration for Chris to finally realize what it was he was really doing. He was scoping out houses. His own house was forever tainted from the moment Markham had pulled up in front. Even if Sarah never returned, Chris couldn’t continue to live there. So when aimless driving had given way to actual searching, he looked for places that she would love.
He’d chosen the cabin even before he’d gone inside it. It was uninhabited, a For Sale sign pounded into the gravel driveway. He’d found it at night and its distance from the city proper meant that the stars shone above the dwelling like diamonds against velvet. A high rock wall rose behind it making the driveway the only point of approach, which appealed to Chris’ Army Ranger instincts. It had a two car garage on the side and a large overhanging porch on the second floor. He couldn’t bring himself to say out loud that Slick would love it, but he knew she would.
He’d hassled the realtor the next day to get a walk-through. He’d over looked the aging wallpaper, the c
racked linoleum in the kitchen, and the crumbling fireplaces, one in the living room and one in the master bedroom, and told her he’d make an offer. He returned with the boys three days later for the inspection. Whatever Hawk thought of the place, he kept it to himself and Tex busied himself with inspecting the overhanging covered porch on the second floor. Only Easy turned his nose up at the place. “Shooter,” the younger man intoned. “You’re not really going to drop half a mil on this place.”
As it turned out the inspection turned the tide Chris’ way. The house needed a lot of work, but it was structurally sound. The owner lowered the asking price considerably and Chris signed the papers two weeks later. Now, instead of driving around avoiding home every night, he went straight to his new home and spent the evening hours fixing the place.
He bought a bed for the Master bedroom. A four poster romantic affair that couldn’t have been further from his own style. But is style wasn’t important anymore. The bed was delivered and he considered the room “finished” until further notice. He then turned his attention to the kitchen, ripping out cabinets and tearing up the floor. This, in his opinion, was the most important room in the house and he wanted it perfect.
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Sarah sat on the screened in porch overlooking her parent’s backyard. Her father was upstairs, resting as he often did in the late afternoon. He was healing well from his surgery and seemed more concerned with her than himself, which she chided him for often. She’d taken over cooking for the family to give her mother a break. Twice a week she saw a therapist, who never really said much at all. She simply waited for Sarah to begin talking about whatever topic struck her fancy.
Sarah usually began with the weather, comparing the balmy afternoons of Raleigh to the gusty, blustery days of Rapid City. It took her a while, each session, to eventually work her way around to bringing up that day at the rental cabin. When she finally did, it colored the rest of her day dark. She was grateful for the peace and comfort of her mother’s kitchen, with its gleaming copper pans hanging in rows overhead and the orderly pantry with its grits and vanilla wafers. It was easy to disappear into the familiar.
She called Chris periodically. He was careful to say he missed her, but not make her feel guilty for leaving. She didn’t know how to tell him that she turned her pillow on the bed each night so it felt like he was lying next to her. Home was familiar and yet home was so far away. She knew she was confused. Chris remained supportive.
Today, though, he’d sent her a letter. But the return address was different. Curious, she opened it and had to quickly snatch the stack of pictures that slid out and threatened to litter the porch floor. She read the letter twice and thumbed through the photos. Chris had bought a cabin, high on a ridge overlooking the city. In the photos, Hawk and Tex were, apparently, arguing about a window. Chris, to their left was oblivious of the camera. He had a sketchpad laid out on a counter and had that look of intense concentration he always had when he worked on bikes and cars. She almost laughed.
The house was a wreck, the letter said. But it had the most potential of any he’d looked at. With time and effort, he said, he could turn it into paradise. It overlooked the city, yet was far enough away to be quiet. The stars, he said, were better than any late night television program. Sarah ran her thumb over the photo in her hand.
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Chris rested his elbows on the solid granite countertop that had been laid over the kitchen’s island. The walls were painted slate grey but the countertops were white, giving, in his opinion, a more modern feel to the old rustic place. The large window over the sink overlooked the back porch and let in plenty of light in during the day. It was far from done. The appliances hadn’t been delivered yet. But the cabinets were hung and the floor was laid. They were both solid maple to keep the kitchen feeling warm. Chris had called the same woman that Tex had used to design his own kitchen and though the style wasn’t the same, she’d done a good job.
The house was perfect in its imperfection. It was exactly what he needed right now. It kept his thoughts generally about her, but focused them in a more positive way than brooding would. It kept his hands busy so he didn’t have to think about how much he wanted to hold her. Now that the rest of the kitchen was out of his hands. It was time to go shopping again. He donned his boots and his leather jacket and set the state-of-the-art alarm for his canyon castle. The October wind was just as fierce on the ridge as it was down below but he ignored it. He had a plan and the means to implement it and that was all that mattered.
Caleb stopped by the garage, looking grim, which was his usual, but Chris knew something was going on or he wouldn’t be here while he was on-duty. He put down the torque wrench he had in his hand. Caleb opened a folder and handed a glossy photo to Chris. “Look familiar?”
Hawk, Tex, and Easy came over to peer at the photograph over Chris’ shoulder. A young man with wavy brown hair smiled at the camera. Chris looked up at Caleb. “Oh, no. Oh fucking hell.”
Caleb’s mouth set into a grim line and he nodded.
“What?” Hawk demanded. “Who’s that?”
“Fuck!” Chris shouted and moved a few feet away. “He’s the kid from the car rental place in Virginia. Goddamn it!”
“You don’t want to see what he looks like now,” Caleb assured the men. “Virginia PD did a sweep of your rental car and found a gps tracker in the back wheel well. You never would have found it without a Bug Catcher. That’s why you didn’t pick up on a tail. FBI cracked the laptop Markham had with him and found the tracking software. He was miles away from you. You could never have known he was following you. He must have planted the tracker at the hospital, hoping she’d show up. He followed you to Virginia, tortured the kid for your DMV info that you used to rent the car, and took his time getting up to Dakota.
“I wouldn’t have even told you, since that fucker’s dead and in the hot place, but I know it would eat at you the rest of your life if you never knew how he’d found her. This shit’s expensive, Shooter. Very. I wouldn’t have guessed he had it and neither did you and at least now you know. Don’t let your head get fucked up over it.”
Chris shook his head. “I killed that kid.”
“You did not,” Caleb insisted. “You did everything a reasonable man could.”
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The late fall wind reminded her that she wasn’t in the South anymore. It whistled against the windows of the car. The sun was at their backs as they left the Rapid City Regional Airport and headed north toward the address she’d given the cabbie. As they left the city, they passed a few small farms. The road up the forested hill was winding and the last few rays of sunlight glinted through the trees.
Her first glimpse of the house stirred her to lean closer to the window. It was as beautiful as the photos. She smiled at Chris’ choice. The cabbie turned in the circle drive and parked the car. She only had one suitcase, but it was new and large and packed to bursting. She paid the man and bid him goodbye. Insisting she’d take things from there. That turned out to be a bit premature as she quickly discovered that, though, it was Saturday, Chris wasn’t actually home, despite it being five o’clock.
She hauled the suitcase up the wooden steps and left it by the front door. Apparently, Pepper had somehow figured out she was there and was in the sill. Sarah pressed her fingers to the glass and the cat pawed at them. She dug out a warmer coat from her luggage and zipped it up. There were comfortable looking chairs on either side of the front door so she settled into one and sat down. Chris had been right about the solitude. The only sound, other than the cat of course, were the birds in the surrounding trees. The wind blew leaves across the drive and shimmied the branches. She closed her eyes to take it all in.
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Chris had been leaving the Harley at home more and more since he often stopped by the home improvement store on the way home every night for something. This time he was loaded up with hardwoo
d flooring. He wanted to stockpile all the things he could work on indoors when the harsh weather kicked up permanently. He figured he’d store it all in the garage. He was mentally listing all the things he needed when he turned into the driveway. Hit hit the brakes instinctively before he even got to the house.
The sun had gone down but the shadowy figure on the porch couldn’t really be missed. He took his foot off the brake, pressed the gas, and as he got closer, his approach triggered the security lights. They illuminated the driveway as well as the steps of the porch. He slammed the stick shift into neutral and yanked on the parking brake. He was out of the truck in seconds.
Sarah was at the bottom step by the time he’d crossed the gravel drive. “Hey,” she told him. “I-”
Ignoring her, he swept her up against him and planted his mouth over hers. She was a little surprised at first, but then she melted into him with a soft noise of contentment. After several long minutes, Chris, grudgingly, let her go. He looked behind her to the suitcase by the door and frowned.
