Appalachian Abduction (Lavender Mountain Book 2; Appalachian Magic)

by Debbie Herbert

  A quick look back and then they bounded up the stairs together. Again, he was struck by the unnatural quiet as they left the den and walked the hallway. As mapped out earlier, he searched the rooms on the right while Charlotte worked the left. They made quick work of it. He glanced in the last empty room on his side and joined Charlotte for her last search.

  A heavy padlock hanging on the outside door set him on edge. Even if it wasn’t locked now—why was it ever necessary to lock someone inside?

  Half a dozen cheap cots lined a stark room that was unlike the opulence of the rest of the living quarters. The beds were meticulously tidy, even though they were made up with only threadbare sheets and blankets. He entered and shut the door behind him while Charlotte flipped on the light.

  A scratched armoire was the only other piece of furniture besides the cots, and Charlotte flicked it open. A few lone wire hangers dangled from the top dowel, but it was otherwise empty.

  “Could be the maid’s quarters,” he said quietly.

  “This isn’t the Victorian era where indentured servants were forced to live in substandard hidey-holes.”

  She walked to the lone, narrow window and pulled back the tattered curtain. “And then there’s this,” she whispered.

  He ran a finger down the pane’s tinted liner. “Bingo.”

  Charlotte’s eyes grew misty. “They’re gone. Sold. I’m too late.”

  “There’s still the basement.” But his own spirits grew low.

  The scrape of a shoe sounded far down the hall. With unspoken accord, they rushed to the door and positioned themselves on either side, backs flat against the wall. Charlotte flipped off the light switch.

  A crescent moon struggled to shine through the tinted and curtained window.

  Creak. Another step closer.

  James hardly dared to breath, concentrating on the patterns of sound.

  Creak, creak. Just one person. He carefully extracted the gun from his vest and closed his finger on the trigger, the metal cool and lethal in his hands. A rustle of movement beside him, and Charlotte extracted a gun from her beaded purse. Her face was pale but composed in the faint light.

  A flashlight beam crisscrossed on the floor outside their door. He was closer now. With any luck, the man was only on a routine security check.

  The footsteps reached the end of the hallway and stopped.

  Silence as thick as the stale, dark air weighted down on him. He noted the rise and fall of Charlotte’s chest, although she made no sound. What was the man doing on the other side of the door? James gave her a slight nod. Be ready for anything, he silently willed her with his mind.

  The world exploded in a firestorm of splintered wood as the man kicked down the door and entered. The scent of sweat and cheap aftershave stabbed through the chaos of his mind. The intruder at Charlotte’s apartment.

  A metallic clatter ripped through the darkness, like the sound of automatic gunfire in Afghanistan. James shook off the memory. Not now. Stay in the moment. His eyes focused and he realized that Charlotte had knocked the gun out of the man’s hand. That noise had only been the sound of it harmlessly hitting the floor.

  The man raised a fist to her, ready to strike.

  James lowered the boom. Raising his arms high, he thrust downward with his gun and knocked the guy on the back of the head. He never saw it coming and crumpled to the ground with a heavy thud.

  “Go get some pillowcases and blankets,” he told Charlotte, kneeling beside the injured guard. Handcuffs were in his pocket, but the first order of business was to gag the intruder. One loud yell and their gig was up. James rolled him flat on his back. Had he killed the guy?

  He moaned. James hastily grabbed the sheet from Charlotte, rolled it into a cylinder and gagged him. “Get another sheet and tie his feet while I cuff his hands.”

  They worked quickly, and all the while he strained to listen for more footsteps. So far, so good.

  “Here.” Charlotte pressed the intruder’s flashlight into his hands. “We might need it.”

  Curious, James flicked it on and shone it on the man’s face, glancing at the dagger tattoo on his neck. Gray eyes glared back, defiant to the end.

  “Got you now,” James said with grim satisfaction.

  Charlotte tugged at his tux sleeve. “Let’s go find Jenny.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Charlotte gathered up the hem of her long gown and checked the hallway before entering.

  Behind her, James spoke softly into his mike, filling Harlan in on their progress. “Bound suspect upstairs, heading to basement. Any news?”

  Charlotte held her breath. What if they’d been spotted entering upstairs? Harlan might call off the whole mission if Maddie was breathing down his neck.

  James winced. “Ten-four.”

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Sammy hasn’t seen any activity out back and the gate officer reported no young females have exited Falling Rock. We’re on.”

  “So what’s the bad news? I saw that look on your face.”

  “The usual. He says abandon the mission and don’t attempt a rescue if there’s more than one guard down there. And call backup if needed.”

  Charlotte bit her lip, hoping for James’s sake there wasn’t more than one guard so that he wouldn’t have to break Harlan’s orders. Secretly she and James had agreed to take on two guards if necessary.

  And in her heart of hearts, Charlotte made her own secret vow. She wouldn’t jeopardize James’s life if there were three or more guards—but she’d return alone and attempt a solo rescue operation, despite all the odds against success.

  At the end of the hallway, James suddenly pulled her in for an embrace and gave her a quick, fierce kiss. “Be safe,” he ordered.

  Love and worry blazed from his blue-hot eyes. It took her breath away. But before she could even process her thoughts, James stepped around her and surveyed the area. “We’re clear.”

  Together they hurried down the stairs. In the foyer, she pressed his hand. “Good luck.”

  This is where they parted ways again.

  She hurried past the kitchen and started by the main entrance.

  According to the architectural drawing, there was another entrance to the basement behind the main level utility room, third door past the kitchen. She swept inside and locked the utility room door behind her. To the right of the washer and dryer was yet another door. Quickly Charlotte hurried over and gave the knob a turn.

  Locked. Of course it was.

  She opened her purse and extracted the tiny pick and tension wrench that both fit in the palm of one hand. She and James had practiced for this eventuality, and he’d been taken aback at her skill. This wasn’t her first time to pick a lock.

  Assured no one was about to witness the break-in, Charlotte set to work inserting the wrench into the bottom of the keyhole and the pick at the top of the lock. She scrubbed the pick back and forth. A little twist here and there and—ping—the metallic click fell into place. She turned the knob and cracked the door open.

  “—getting hungry,” she heard a deep voice say. “We should go upstairs and filch some of their alcohol.”

  “Hell, no. Maddie would have a fit. Ain’t worth it.”

  Damn, there were two guards at least. She listened harder, praying a third voice didn’t chime in.

  “Stop acting like a wuss. She won’t know. Don’t need two of us to guard one door. Them bitches are locked up tight. They ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

  A smile curled her lips. She wasn’t too late. Jenny and the other girls were so very, very close. She and James had a shot at making this work. Charlotte dropped the wrench and pick in her purse and texted James on her cell phone.

  I’m in. Only two guards. Girls locked in storage room inside basement.

  Setting her purse behind the d
ryer, she lifted out her gun. It took all her self-control not to rush in with her gun blazing and demand their release. But she and James had a plan. For now—she waited.

  * * *

  JAMES RETURNED HIS cell phone to his pocket with a sigh of relief. That had taken a little longer than anticipated. On his end, the basement entrance door hadn’t been locked so he’d already deduced that if the girls were downstairs, they were locked in one of the two storage rooms. If he were the Stowerses, he’d have taken those extra precautions.

  Taking a deep breath, he threw open the door and stomped down the narrow stairs. “Halloo,” he called out, slurring his voice. “Where’s da bathroom?” he asked, belching loudly. “I need to—”

  “Hey, you can’t be down here,” a man quickly answered.

  “Whaddaya mean by that?”

  A burly guy appeared at the bottom of the steps. “No guests allowed down here.”

  “That’s b-b-bullshit.” James staggered and clutched the handrail, as if he were too drunk to keep his balance.

  “Sir, you have to go. Now.”

  With satisfaction, he watched the guard start up the stairs. “But, but I—I’m Richard’s pal.” James fell on his rear end and stumbled down two steps. He let go of the rail and waved his hands in the air. “Whoa. Them stairs are st-steep.”

  The guard scowled, climbed up to him, and grabbed his arm. “You have to—”

  With all his strength, James pulled the guard down with both arms. The man gaped in surprise and James landed a swift punch to his gut before the guard regained his senses and realized what was happening.

  The man doubled over in pain but had the presence of mind to keep his arms locked around James. Together, they tumbled down the stairs. James’s mike and cell phone clattered to the ground.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” he heard another male voice shout.

  Excruciating pain suddenly radiated from his right shoulder. The son of a bitch had bitten him. James kneed the man in the groin and the pain eased as the man stopped biting and let out a strangled yelp.

  “What the hell?” the other guard shouted. James saw him reach for a gun that was belted at his waist. Where was Charlotte? Right about now would be a good time for her to make an appearance.

  From his position on the floor at the bottom of the stairwell, he spied her flat green shoes and a swatch of green fabric advancing toward them. His avenging angel in emerald. He strained his neck upward and watched as she pushed her gun into the second guard’s back.

  “Drop your weapon,” she demanded in a hard voice.

  “Who? What? Ah, damn it.” The guard bent his knees and placed his weapon on the ground. Charlotte kicked at the gun and it spun several feet across the concrete floor, out of grabbing reach.

  James rolled his prisoner onto his stomach and jerked one of his hands behind his back. “Sheriff’s office. Don’t resist arrest. You’ll only make matters worse for yourself.”

  “Okay, okay,” he groaned. “Don’t hurt me.”

  He made short work of slapping on the cuffs. “Say one word and you’re dead,” he warned before leaping to his feet. “You, too,” he told the other guard.

  Charlotte spoke, nudging her pistol into the suspect’s back. “Get on the ground spread-eagle, hands out in front.”

  He complied without a word of complaint, and James quickly cuffed him.

  “We need more gags,” Charlotte whispered.

  “We’ll make do.” He tore off his tie and gagged one of the prostrate men on the floor.

  Charlotte glanced down, running her hands down her hips over the sleek gown and frowned. “I don’t have anything... Wait.” She raised her hands and tugged at the velvet ribbon holding the bun at the top of her hair. Her hair cascaded down and she held the ribbon in front of her, eyeing it critically. “Not as strong as I’d like, but it will do.”

  “Give it to me,” he said.

  “Get the storage key from him first.”

  James grabbed the man’s chin. “Where’s the key?”

  “You won’t get away with this,” he grunted. “Guards are everywhere patrolling the grounds. Let me go and I’ll cooperate.”

  Charlotte knelt beside him. “We don’t need your cooperation, Ricky—that is your name, isn’t it? You’re the one who shot at me.”

  James patted down the man’s pockets. “Nothing here.”

  Charlotte turned to the other prisoner. “I’ll pat him down.”

  James pulled the ribbon tight between his fists, holding it in front of the guard’s face. “Last chance to talk.”

  “Okay, okay,” Ricky said, breathing hard. “But remember I cooperated later if I get arrested.”

  James said nothing, advancing the gag toward his mouth. There’d be no deals for scumbags like Ricky. He wanted everyone involved in the trafficking business to get the stiffest sentence possible.

  “It’s in my right shoe.”

  James exchanged a bemused glance with Charlotte, and then untied the man’s sneaker and shoved it off his foot.

  A small brass key dropped on the concrete.

  Charlotte snatched it up with a trembling hand and they stared at one another, disheveled and breathing hard. “We did it,” she whispered. Her green eyes shone with tears.

  Bittersweetness gnawed at his heart. He loved Charlotte’s strength and courage, but even more he loved her vulnerability and fierce loyalty. She might not love him, but he’d stood beside her when no one else would believe or help in her quest to rescue Jenny. That would count for something in Charlotte’s book, and he’d take what he could get.

  He took her hand and helped her to her feet. “Only one thing left to do.”

  She nodded and ran a hand through her hair. “Right. I just...should be prepared for whatever we find behind that locked door. It’ll be an ugly sight.”

  “Maybe it won’t be too bad,” he said gently. “After all, they want these girls to look pretty for their clients.”

  Anger crackled in her eyes and she lifted her chin. “That’s not happening again. Let’s go finish our job.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Charlotte held her breath as she turned the key in the lock.

  “Wait.” James’s hand held her back. “Could be a trap or another guard waiting. I’ll go first.”

  She shook off his hand. “We’ll go in together.” Before he could argue further, she thrust the door open.

  The room was almost pitch black, with only a faint trickle of light from a high, small window. The stale, moldy scent of damp air assaulted her nose. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she saw the faint, pale outline of three young girls huddled together in a back corner. Groping along the concrete wall, she located the light switch and flipped it on.

  The large, square block room was devoid of anything except the girls and a half-dozen cots with thin mattresses. James drew his gun and circled the middle of the basement for any hidden surprises.

  “Don’t shoot us,” one of the girls screamed. “We’ve been good.”

  “Don’t scream. Nobody’s going to hurt you. I promise.” Charlotte approached them slowly as James put away his weapon. She blinked at the unexpected sight.

  The girls were gussied up to look like living Barbie dolls. They wore bright-colored, low-cut evening gowns, their hair was elaborately curled and styled, and their young faces were painted with red lipstick and heavy rouge. Their eyes were thickly lined in black kohl. In a gray room that held all the charm of a steel garbage can, they popped like discarded roses.

  It took Charlotte several moments to realize the blonde in the middle was Jenny. She looked nothing like the last time she’d seen her with Tanya. Then she’d been fresh-faced, wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt, and sporting a wide, easy grin.

  “Jenny. It’s me—Charlotte. Your mom’s been so worried abou
t you.”

  Jenny hunched her thin shoulders and shrank back until she was pinned against the wall. “Don’t tell her where you found me,” she whispered.

  “But, but...” Charlotte floundered, unsure how to proceed. This was hardly the grand welcome she’d expected.

  A petite Asian girl with bobbed black hair eyed them warily. “Who sent you?”

  James flashed his badge. “Sheriff’s office. We’re here to help you.”

  A whimper escaped the lips of the third girl, another blonde who appeared to only be about twelve years old.

  Charlotte scrutinized the girl’s features. She’d seen her photo listed in their book of missing children. “Lisa Burns?” she guessed.

  Lisa’s eyes grew even more terrified, but she left the other two girls and approached James and Charlotte on wobbly legs. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

  “Hey, are y’all really cops?” the Asian girl asked. “Did you just come for Jenny?”

  “We’re here for all of you,” Charlotte assured her.

  The mistrust melted on her face and she ran to Charlotte, wrapping boney arms around her waist. “I want out. My name is Amy Chang.”

  “We’ll get you out.” Charlotte ran a hand over her smooth hair and eyed Jenny, who’d sunk onto a cot and curled into a ball. Leg cuffs bound her slim ankles.

  “Promise?” Amy pulled away and swiped at her eyes. Mascara and liner ran down her face.

  Lisa gasped and put a hand on her red lips. “You’re all messed up now, Amy. They’re gonna hurt you if we don’t get outta here. We’re supposed to be all pretty.”

  “Nobody’s going to be hurt,” James said. “You’re safe with us.”

  “Safe?” Amy thrust out her right hand, wrist down. Deep scars crisscrossed the veins. “I almost killed myself six months ago. A few weeks ago, I got messed up one night, thinking crazy thoughts, and got scared I’d do it again. I called a teen suicide hotline. That’s how I met Piper. She was so nice. Asked to meet me. Said she’d take care of me and keep me safe. I thought she was my friend.” Amy’s lower lip trembled.