by Debra Holt
Was it Davis? Why would he be coming in that way? Darcy had just told her earlier that no one had been back there in months. Besides, the road didn’t come all the way to the house. It was some distance off. Stacy realized the vehicle made a slow turn and was heading away from the house. She caught sight of the faint red glow of taillights and then they disappeared and did not return to sight.
Very strange. She flipped the kitchen lights back on as she returned to the table and picked up her pen. Except, her mind would not go back to the paper in front of her. The appearance of the vehicle in the dark of the night had managed to push Davis and the kiss to the back of her thoughts for the moment. There was something about those lights. Trust your instincts. You’re a smart lady. Davis had said those words to her not that long ago. For whatever reason, they were echoing through her mind at that moment.
Stacy decided it was time to call Darcy and tell her what she had seen. Opening her cell phone, she punched in the number. Nothing. Her phone battery was dead. Seriously? Why hadn’t she recharged it before she left the condo? Because you were in too big a hurry to meet Davis. And she wasn’t planning to be gone for so long from her condo to begin with. Now what?
Quickly, she began a room to room search looking for a possible landline. In the era of cell phones, there was not another regular line installed in the house. She thought she had struck gold when she saw a charger plugged into the wall in Davis’s office, but of course it did not fit her phone. Great. The laptop was her next bet. She opened it only to find it was locked with a security code needed to access it. Davis was certainly all about protective measures just as his sister had said. That didn’t help her any now.
Let it go. There was nothing she could do about it. That didn’t work too well. Her mind kept working and playing different possibilities, scenarios. That was the price an author paid. The bottom line stayed the same. What if it had something to do with the disappea of the child? What were the odds? There was a vehicle, late at night, on a road that went to an empty cabin that no one used. And there was a small child who had been taken from her home not that far away. That thought made her breath catch in her throat. She needed Davis but there was no way to contact him. She was it. Sit there and do nothing?
What could she do? Her eyes lit on the flashlight mounted in a charger next to the back door. Its green light steadily winked at her, taunting her… daring her to pick it up and step outside. She wanted to write a full-blown mystery one day, didn’t she? Well, here’s your chance for some research. Her inner voice challenged her. It wasn’t like she was afraid of a little walk in the woods. She had done that a time or two in her young years. But then, she usually had been in those woods at least once in the daylight. Excuses.
Okay. Mind made up, Stacy stood and grabbed the flashlight from the wall before she could talk herself out of what she was about to do. Next, she rummaged through the kitchen drawers… bingo. Her fingers latched onto a pocketknife. Miss Junior Crime Fighter was now armed with a pocketknife and a flashlight. You are losing it. The taunt went through her mind more than a few times and she shook her head, her hand reaching to shut off the alarm before opening the kitchen door. Stacy halted as another thought struck her. Returning to the table, she picked up the pen and scribbled a note on the pad. At least if she didn’t return… for whatever reason… someone would know what idiotic thing she had done. She retraced her steps and closed the door behind her.
In her research for background for her suspense novel, Stacy remembered that a light from a LED flashlight, such as the one she had in her hand, could be seen in the darkness from a great distance. She switched it off and was grateful that the second night of the full moon was her ally. She paused while her eyes grew more accustomed to the level of light. Instinctively, she placed herself inside the mind of her heroine. This was just an exercise in research for her book. What would she really do at any given point? Stacy silently made her way away from the house and toward the stand of trees at the back of the maintained yard. That was the easy part.
Once she cleared the yard and stepped into the tree line, things got… interesting. The ground was rockier. Tree branches were lower and harder to see at times, which meant she ran into quite a few until she grew more adept at holding an arm out before her in order to fend off impending branches in the semidarkness. Stacy tried to stay in the shadows of the trees and away from the moonlight of the clearings. That was what her heroine might do in order to stay hidden as she moved.
With care, she picked her way over the rocks and uneven ground. She wished she had chosen a sturdy pair of sneakers from her closet earlier that day, rather than the fashionable flats she wore at the moment. Of course, how was she to know that she would be taking a late-night stroll alone in the woods? If they had stayed to the schedule, she would be sitting… safe and secure… in her condo with her laptop in front of her.
Instead, she was doing something totally unplanned. The main reason for it was the nagging thought in the back of her mind that there was a lost child and what if that car had something to do with it? The only good thing about being alone at that point was that no one would ever need to know what craziness she had done while left to her own devices. Davis would definitely not approve. And that was why she would be back inside the house, all safe and secure before he returned.
There were night sounds, but she was not letting her mind focus on them. The dark had never been something to be afraid of when she was growing up and she just had to keep her wits about her. Everything had a reasonable explanation if she just kept her mind under control. She had to keep moving. Truth be known, in her childhood days, she often felt the cloak of darkness was more ally than a foe to frighten her.
Was that the sound of a creek to her right? Stacy stopped and listened. She could identify the faint sound of water running over rocks. That would be helpful in finding her bearings and the way back to the house… since leaving a trail of breadcrumbs in the dark was not a viable idea even if she had thought to bring the breadcrumbs along! Stacy tried to keep her thoughts from going too dark, but her feeble attempts at humor were just that… feeble. Then her eyes caught movement and she froze in her tracks. She was not alone.
Her breathing became shallow as her eyes picked up something coming from the line of brush ahead of her. Her nerves were on high alert. She watched in silence as a dark form, low to the ground, moved out of the shadows and then hesitated. After a few long moments, it darted toward the sound of the water. She recognized the loping gait. It was a raccoon… probably intent on fishing in the nearby stream for its dinner.
Stacy expelled her breath slowly as relief washed over her. Death from heart attack after sighting of wild raccoon. Not exactly how a writer of thrillers should meet her demise. Not that she intended to meet her demise anytime soon for any reason.
Deep breath, slowly exhale. Stacy moved forward. It had to be dumb luck that before long, she found herself on the edge of a dirt track… a rutted road that had to be the one she had seen the vehicle travel. She stifled the urge to jump up and down and congratulate herself. She had another decision to make. Did she go on, or turn back? At that point, Stacy had come too far to not give it her best shot. The heroine in her book would not be allowed to turn back before solving the crime and neither would Stacy allow herself to give up. Just a little farther along the road. What could another ten minutes hurt?
Stacy began to follow the rutted track in the direction the vehicle had gone earlier, keeping close enough to the brush line that if the vehicle should suddenly reappear, she could quickly hide herself if she had to. This has to be one of the most insane things you’ve done yet. She chided herself for the umpteenth time. All of this for the sake of her craft. Because the odds were zero to none that she would actually come across the kidnapped child. In fact, after a good fifteen minutes, Stacy had just about talked herself into turning around and heading back to the sane world of Davis’s house. He could do the investigating when he returned. Tha
t was until she spotted a dim glow through the trees to her left.
Stacy’s heart skipped several beats and she froze. When the organ kick started in her chest again, it was hammering far too loudly in her ears. Surely everyone in the county could hear it? Taking a deep breath, she crept closer. Her fingers closed around the pocketknife in her slacks pocket for a moment of reassurance. The ground was uneven again. Her footsteps crunched on loose rocks and seemed to echo loudly on the dark air of the night. She stopped… her ears straining to listen for any other sound. Somewhere an owl hooted in a tree. Perfect. Did it have to sound so creepy?
Her eyes focused on the outline of the small wooden structure just ahead of her. Its tin roof slanted off to the side and a rickety-looking porch drooped a bit in the center. She could see the rear of a dark-colored van parked on the far side. Darcy had said no one should be back in this area. Warning bells clanged in Stacy’s head. She was elated and fearful at the same time. Stacy eased around to the side of the cabin. There was only one window on that side and a dim light could be seen through the torn shade that covered only a small portion of it. Now what? She was there. What was the next step?
Holding her breath, Stacy eased up on tiptoe to attempt to peer over the ledge. It wasn’t all that easy… the glass was filthy for one thing, and a little higher than she anticipated. She laid the flashlight on the ground beside her and then went back on tiptoe. Her fingers clutched the rotted wood of the ledge and she jerked her hand back quickly, biting off the word she almost yelped out loud. A splinter had pierced her finger and she quickly placed her lips to it. Stacy made a mental note that her heroine always needed to carry sturdy gloves with her. Too bad she hadn’t.
Stacy left the window for a moment, her eyes searching along the perimeter of the side of the house. There was a nice-sized rock. It would become a stepping stone. It was a bit heavier than she anticipated, and it took some effort to pick it up and move it under the window. The whole time, she hoped she hadn’t disturbed anything that might be sleeping under it. Her luck held and she stepped onto her makeshift, if a trifle wobbly, step stool.
On her third attempt, Stacy finally was able to look inside the room. It was small. There was something that looked like one of those camping lanterns that ran off batteries sitting on the floor in the corner. It gave off a small circle of illumination. A movement caught her eye. That was when she saw the huddled mass of clothing and blonde hair. Her fingers dug into the edge of the window ledge. She wanted to scream out loud in surprise and happiness but just as quickly another thought killed that urge.
The small child… Lizzie… was actually inside that room! That meant that the men who took her… the bad guys… had to be on the other side of the far door. Stacy knew a moment of sheer panic. The situation had become very real, very fast. Her mind raced to stay clear and ahead of the situation. Now what? She hadn’t thought that far but, then again, she had never really thought she would stumble upon a crime either. Why had she followed her instinct? Now look at the mess she was in.
Her amateur sleuthing had paid off. What exactly would she do next? Well, she hadn’t planned that far in her sudden desire to be Nancy Drew. But what options did she have? If she left and found her way back to the house… how long before Davis would come? What if he didn’t come soon enough and then the abductors took the child and left? Or worse. She clamped down on her mind from going in that direction.
The child was alive at that moment. Stacy was there and there was no one else to help. Her mind was made up. She was not leaving without the child. Stacy’s fingers went to the window and she tried to lift it. It didn’t budge. She tried once more, putting as much strength into it as she could… and it moved. But only about a half inch, before it became stuck again. She stopped and listened. There was no sound. She looked back into the room. She saw a small face that was dirty and tear stained. The eyes were huge with fear in its face and they blinked in silence at her. Stacy lifted a finger to her lips, letting the child know she should stay quiet. Then she smiled what she hoped was her best reassuring I’m one of the good guys smiles… whatever that was exactly. Her luck was good so far. The little girl remained still and quiet as a statue.
Stacy searched around her on the ground for something to loosen the window. Then it dawned on her… the pocketknife. She retrieved it from her pocket, opened the blade carefully, and moved it slowly around the sides of the window frame, causing the old paint to chip away. Closing the blade, she slid it back into her pocket. Her hands went to the window and with another push; she found the wood and glass moving… slowly… an inch at a time in case there be too much noise. Stacy raised it just enough to allow her the space to bend over and swing one leg inside and then the other.
Once inside the room, she placed her finger back on her lips and moved slowly toward the child. The little girl cowered against the corner. Stacy’s heart broke for her. And then her temper flared in anger at the beast in the other room that could do such a thing to an innocent child.
“I bet your name is Lizzie, right?” she whispered to the child. A very slight nod was visible. “My name is Stacy. I’m going to take you away from this bad place and back to your mommy and daddy… but you have to be very quiet, okay?”
The little girl sat up straighter at the mention of her parents. Slowly, she nodded her little head again. Stacy gave her another reassuring smile.
“Remember, you mustn’t make any sound, okay? No matter what, you have to do as I say and be very still for me.”
Just then a raised voice came from the other room and the little girl darted into Stacy’s arms, burying her head against her shoulder. Stacy didn’t know if it was her own heart or the child’s that was beating so hard. She cradled the child against her and sent up a silent prayer that Davis would find the note she left and come find them soon… very soon.
Chapter Seven
“This is your screw up, Jerry, not mine.” The male voice growled out the words. “You said the family had money… lots of it. So why aren’t they paying up?”
“I told you they’d get it and they will. They’ll make the ransom drop in the morning and then we’re out of here. And I told you… no names.” The second voice was shriller and had a definite country twang to it.
“You think the kid is going to remember anything? We got bigger problems than that. The country is crawling with cops. Some smart guy you are. You hide us out on property owned by a Texas Ranger. Can you get any more stupid? Texas Ranger!”
“Who’s calling who stupid? It’s a stroke of genius. Who’d think to look right in their own backyard for the kid? It’s because this is a ranger’s land is why it’s safe. They wouldn’t think we’d do something dumb like that.”
“Geez… you just said yourself how dumb it was! There’s a good reason that no one messes with Texas Rangers. They won’t give up until they hunt us down. I tell you we need to get rid of the kid and head for the border now.” A chair scraped on wood.
Move it… now. Stacy wasn’t staying to hear more. They had to move fast. She carefully stood with the child and moved over to the window. She eased the little girl through the opening and outside, having to pry little hands from around her neck until she could set Lizzie on the ground. With one hand maintaining contact with the trembling child, she maneuvered her own body through the opening. She had just touched the ground outside when the door to the room burst open. She ducked quickly and grabbed up Lizzie. The flashlight was forgotten. Stacy headed for the stand of trees and the road beyond it just as she heard a loud voice shouting somewhere behind her.
“The kid’s gone! Someone’s out there!”
There was a slamming of a door and then another one and more noise which Stacy tried to ignore as she ran. The blood was pounding in her ears as she ran faster once she reached the road. She couldn’t stay there though. The kidnappers had a vehicle and even now she thought she heard an engine in the distance. There was no other choice. Stacy headed into the brush line. The
child’s arms were strangling her in their grip around her neck. Lizzie was whimpering, her face turned into Stacy’s shoulder. Stacy couldn’t blame Lizzie for her fear because she was scared, too. Thankfully, her thought process worked with clarity, fueled by the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Keep moving.
The words of the kidnappers replayed in her mind. There was a chance they would make a run for it and cut their losses on the child. But, then again, what if they didn’t? She had to get back to the ranch house. If anything, she had a plus on her side. She had come this way and knew where she was going. They wouldn’t, if they followed. And something told her they would follow.
She had something valuable in her arms they wanted. Plus, if they saw a glimpse of her as they ran away, they probably figured she was a female and would give up easily once cornered. The tree branches and brush caught at her hair and arms and legs. There was no time to consider the pain of the scratches they inflicted. And in the back of her mind, she kept sending silent prayers that Davis would be at the ranch by now and was searching for them at that very moment. Positive thoughts.
Stacy slowed as she came to a small stream. She hadn’t crossed one on the way to the cabin. Had she taken a wrong turn? Don’t panic… think! This had to be the water she had heard earlier on her way toward the cabin. That meant she was still headed in the right direction, just a little off her original path. It was darker now. Clouds crossed over the moon. Was that a twig breaking somewhere behind her? The sound brought her head around quickly, but she could see nothing. It was insane to think they would let her get away with the child so easily.
When the moon eased from behind the clouds again, her eyes could make out an outcropping of rocks. Stacy moved toward it. By stepping into the stream and then back up, she could leverage both of them into the space. They would be concealed from anyone coming from either side. If they could stay there until daybreak, surely Davis and others would be looking for them by then? She made the decision and then acted, not leaving an opening to second guess herself. That was usually when people got into trouble… the pause, the moment of hesitation when they shouldn’t.
