by Karen Rose
Amazingly, Steven found his lips curving in a smile. “She’s some woman, my Aunt Helen.”
Asheville
Monday, March 19
11:15 A.M.
“Miss Broughton.” Max found himself pleading brokenly and was beyond caring. He wanted to grab the woman and shake her until he rattled loose the truth and was almost beyond caring that she was also Winters’s victim. He clenched his fist on the worn tabletop of the justice center interview room and pounded once. “If you have any decency you’ll tell us where he’s hiding. For God’s sake— where is that cabin?”
Sue Ann Broughton sat at the interview table, her hair tangled and dirty, her eyes fixed on the tabletop. She refused to look at them, any of them.
“I want a lawyer,” she whispered, barely loud enough to hear.
Detective Lambert shook his head. “You’re not under arrest, Miss Broughton. You’re free to hire a lawyer at your own expense, but I’m not required to provide one under the law until you’ve been arrested.”
Sue Ann lifted weary eyes. “Then why can’t I go home?”
Lambert never moved a facial muscle. “Because you’re being held as a material witness. We’ve been over this several times before.” He casually rested his arm on the table. “I can, however, charge you with aiding and abetting a suspected felon.”
“Rob didn’t kill those women,” she protested, but the words were obviously borne of fear rather than true confidence. “He didn’t.”
Lambert merely raised a brow. “He told you this?”
Sue Ann glared. “You know he did. You bugged our phone. That’s the only way you could have known he was meeting me this morning.”
Lambert shrugged. “Then you also know that we know the two of you arranged some sort of money drop. You gave him cash to run on. That’s aiding and abetting a suspected felon.” He eyed Sue Ann sharply and Max felt a small glimmer of hope. Maybe Lambert could get through to Sue Ann. Maybe Sue Ann would tell them where they could find Caroline. “Now, Sue Ann, you don’t want your baby to be born in prison, do you?”
Sue Ann paled. “No. You can’t put me in jail.” Her hand instinctively splayed across her abdomen. “You can’t.”
Lambert shrugged again. “No, but a jury of your peers can and will. It’s not a chance I’d be keen on taking if I were you. So you can tell me what I want to know, or I can go to the District Attorney with what I know. It’s your choice.” Lambert stopped and watched Sue Ann’s face change expressions as the woman fought with herself and her fear of Winters.
Max glanced from the corner of his eye as Tom leaned forward, his face ashen.
“Ms. Broughton.” Tom’s voice was gravelly. “You’re having a baby.” He cleared his throat. “Do you want him living with a father that will hurt him?”
Sue Ann shook her head, her eyes bright with tears. “Rob would never hurt a child.”
Tom shook his head. “No, ma’am. You’re wrong.” Slowly he stood and began unbuttoning his shirt. “He hits you? I know he must.” His voice had grown dull, monotone. “He hit my mother.” Another few buttons slipped from their buttonholes. “He hit me. Yes, he did,” Tom insisted when Sue Ann began to shake her head vigorously. “He hit me with his fists. He kicked me with his boots.” Tom swallowed as he pulled his shirttail from his waistband, exposing the fine blond hairs just beginning to cover his chest and again Max was struck at once by Tom’s youth and his maturity. “But it got worse, Sue Ann.” He shrugged one arm from its sleeve. “One day, he hit my mom into a wall and she was unconscious. He was about to kick her again and I leaned down on top of her.” He didn’t take his eyes from Sue Ann’s face. “I was six years old and all I could think about was protecting my mom. She was crippled and walked with a walker. He was about to kick her ribs in.” Tom held up his arm. “Look close, Sue Ann.”
Max looked and felt his stomach roil. Scars, faint and round, lined the inside of Tom’s arm starting about three inches from his shoulder and proceeding to his armpit, evenly spaced.
Sue Ann paled and dropped her eyes to the table.
“I said look close, Sue Ann,” Tom snapped, his tone one of instant authority. Sue Ann looked up, her eyes filled with horrified tears. “My mom doesn’t even know about these. I’ve hidden them for years. If she knew she’d hate herself and I don’t want that to happen. But hear me, Sue Ann. The man you’re protecting burned me with a cigarette for trying to protect my mother. I was six years old. Do you really think he’ll treat your child with any more respect?”
Trembling, Sue Ann dropped her eyes back to the tabletop and a long, agonizing minute passed as she rocked herself, her arms locked across her abdomen as if the action could protect her unborn child. Finally she raised her eyes and in them Max saw defeat. “No,” she whispered hoarsely. “Give me a pencil. I’ll draw you the best map I can.”
Lambert stood and tapped on the two-way mirror. A uniformed officer appeared in the doorway as he bent to write on his notepad. Lambert ripped off the note, leaving the ragged edge fluttering in pieces. “Call Lieutenant Ross with this message. I need backup sent to this location.” He turned to Max and Tom. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here.”
Tom shook his head, his jaw taut. “No, we’re going. I may be the only one who can get through to him—if he’s as obsessed with finding me as everyone says.”
Max stood and grabbed his cane. “Every minute we argue are minutes we could be finding Winters. Please, Detective Lambert, let’s not waste any more time.”
Lambert regarded them with an even stare before inclining his head. “Let’s go. But don’t make me sorry I said yes. When we get there you stay in the car.”
Western North Carolina
Monday, March 19
11:30 A.M.
She’d taken matters into her own hands, so to speak, her first step to regain use of her hands. She’d found the tool in the jagged edge of the aluminum frame of the window screen. It took her precious minutes of scrunching and rolling, caterpillar style to get to it. It took her even longer to position her body so the jagged edge rubbed against the twine binding her hands behind her back. Midway through her struggles, which she tried to keep as silent as possible, the little boy rolled around and opened his eyes, watching her every move. Caroline took a deep breath through her nose and gingerly winked the eye that was least swollen, trying to give the child some hope.
He winked back and she found giving hope went both ways. She rubbed the strands of twine harder against the aluminum, finding a rhythm until finally the effort paid off.
The twine snapped. Her hands were free.
Trembling, she pulled the tape from her mouth and took a great gulp, filling her lungs with musty air that seemed sweeter than that of a spring meadow. Keeping the tape, she crawled over to the child whose eyes were now bright and interested. Gently she pulled the tape from his mouth. He too drew a deep breath.
“Who are you, honey?” Caroline whispered.
“Nicky. Nicky Thatcher,” he whispered back. “My daddy is a policeman.”
Caroline glanced over at the door between the two rooms of the cabin, wondering what role the boy’s daddy had in this whole nightmare, what he’d done to make him a target of the formidable Rob Winters. If the boy’s daddy was a good cop or a bad one. That didn’t really matter. Freeing this baby was her first priority. “Are you a brave boy, Nicky?” He nodded soberly. “Then this is what I want you to do.”
Chapter Twenty-three
I-40 towards Blowing Rock, NC
Monday, March 19
12:30 P.M.
“How much further?” Steven asked from behind clenched teeth. If he didn’t hold his teeth tight together, they’d chatter pathetically. He was past the point of caring if anyone else heard the chatter, but somehow felt that hearing it himself would be the straw that pushed him over the edge.
“Another half-hour,” Jolley answered, his speech still the slightest bit slurred. Detective Crowley had been working to sob
er him up for the last hour, hoping he would be more lucid once they got closer to Winters’s cabin.
Ross glanced over from the driver’s seat, disapproval and worry etched into her face. “When we get there, you stay in the car. I’m serious, Steven. You’re off this case until we find your son.”
“You can’t take me off this case, Toni,” Steven replied evenly, knowing she was trying to help.
Ross’s lips pursed, knowing he was right. “Give Ben another cup of coffee, Jim. I want him sharpened up sometime in the next thirty minutes.”
Crowley poured another cup of coffee strong enough to peel wallpaper. “Drink up, Ben.”
Western North Carolina
Monday, March 19
12:45 A.M.
Caroline’s head jerked up when she heard a loud thump from the bedroom. He was awake. Damn. She glanced down at Nicky Thatcher’s wide, frightened brown eyes. He’d heard it too.
She had a minute more. Not enough to finish, especially as her own ankles were still bound. And if Rob found them like this he’d be even angrier. She fought back the shudder as she thought about the punishment that would inevitably follow. She abruptly changed her strategy.
She flexed her swollen fingers and checked her work, confirming that she’d loosened the twine just enough for Nicky to wriggle his hands free. She’d already freed his feet and now she looped enough twine around them to appear tied, from a distance of four or five feet. She retrieved the duct tape she’d pulled from Nicky’s mouth and the little boy shook his head frantically. Pitifully.
“No,” he whispered, his eyes filling with tears. “Please don’t. I can’t breathe with that on.”
Caroline glanced over her shoulder as footsteps thudded across the floor. Panic skittered down her spine making her body shudder. “He’s coming, honey. I have to put it back on, but I’ll make it loose.” She laid it lightly against his face, covering his trembling lips. She brushed a fleeting caress across his wet cheek. “See, you can breathe through this little pocket. Now curl up and pretend you’re asleep. Do not open your eyes. And whatever happens to me, don’t look. Pretend you’re somewhere else, like Disney World. Have you ever been there?” He nodded, a small nod. “Then pretend you’re on your favorite ride. And if he takes me back to the other room, wiggle free, sneak out and do what I told you to do. Do you understand me?”
He nodded, resolutely blinking his tears away and Caroline felt her heart tumble. “You’re a brave boy. I’ll make sure I tell your daddy how very brave you’ve been. Now I’m going to move away from you. I have to hurry.” She touched the top of his red head. “Courage, Nicky.”
She’d just made it back to the window when the door opened and Rob appeared, red-eyed, his hair tangled, his cheeks dark with stubble. His red eyes widened, then narrowed. “You little bitch.” He chuckled. “Trying to escape?” He strode across the room, grabbed her arm. Smiled when she winced. “I bet you think you’re pretty smart, although I must admit you’re smarter than I thought.” He twisted his hand in her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her throat. “But don’t let it go to your head, Mary Grace. I thought you were dumber than a post. Now, maybe you’ve matched the post. This little escape stunt of yours shows just how little you considered the consequences of your actions.” He tightened his fingers in her hair. “Because there will be consequences.”
She said nothing. Schooled her face to be as expressionless as possible. Once more he yanked her hair and she winced. Satisfied, he smiled, a mere baring of yellow teeth. Then, as if he’d just remembered the boy’s presence, Rob whipped his head to the left to stare at Nicky. After a beat Caroline allowed her eyes to follow, managing to hide her relief when the little boy stayed huddled in his little fetal ball. Rob relaxed and turned his eyes back to her.
“You can’t be quiet forever,” he murmured silkily. “At some point you’ll talk to me.” He ran his finger down her throat, ending in the valley between her breasts. She couldn’t help it, couldn’t control the shudder of revulsion. He smiled again, a horrific sight. “Wife.”
And without further comment, he grabbed her around her waist and hauled her body off the ground and under his arm, as if she were no more than a sack of potatoes. A few steps took them into the bedroom. A kick of his foot sent the door slamming shut.
Her heart lodged in her throat and she shoved it back. Knowing what would come next made it all the more terrifying. He would rape her, like he raped Evie. Like he’d raped her countless times during their marriage. It would hurt. She’d feel violated, ashamed. Emptied of her very self.
It would hurt. Oh, God, she prayed in her mind, please don’t let me scream. Please don’t let that little boy out there be more traumatized than he’s already been. Please don’t let me scream and give Rob the satisfaction of knowing he’s succeeded. Please.
Her body landed on the thin mattress where Rob tossed her, her left hip taking most of the impact as the bed frame seemed to cut through the mattress as if it was made of so much air.
Max. His face flashed against her clenched eyelids and it was almost more than she could bear. Where was he? Did he even know she was gone? And even if she managed to escape, would he want her after this? She could survive whatever came next, but could Max?
“Open your eyes, Mary Grace.” Rob’s voice was breathy, heavy. The mattress at her side depressed as he sat beside her. Her stomach churned even as she kept her eyes clenched shut. The back of his hand against her jaw came as no real surprise, but still she flinched at the sharp pain, shrinking away from him. “You are still my wife,” he snarled, grabbing her jaw and squeezing her cheeks. “One way or another you’ll stop defying me.”
He threw her face back to the hard mattress and Caroline forced her mind to blank.
Lambert brought the car to a stop. A dirt road lay before them, just off the badly paved “main” road. There was a large boulder to the left of the entrance to the dirt road, just as Sue Ann had said.
Max glanced over his shoulder at Tom, sitting in the backseat, his blue eyes intently scanning the trees for any sign of his mother. For any sign of life at all. David had his hand on Tom’s back, offering silent support. Max cleared his throat. “Do you recognize this place, Tom?”
Tom nodded, not taking his eyes from the window. “I remember climbing on that rock. I didn’t want to.” His lips thinned. “He said I had to. To prove I wasn’t a pussywimp. I almost fell off.” He tilted his head. “It’s not as big as I remembered it, the rock. I wonder if he is. I wonder if he realizes I’m not as small as I used to be,” he finished, his young voice gone hard and flat.
Max gritted his teeth. Somehow he’d thought it would get easier over time, dealing with Tom’s memories, but each one seemed to slice at his gut. Each memory was a blow Caroline had taken, biding her time until she could escape the sonofabitch monster. Just like she was probably doing right now. He became aware that the car had not moved. “What are you waiting for, Detective?”
Lambert stared straight ahead at the cabin, barely visible through the trees. Spring had arrived in this part of the country, young green leaves sprouting everywhere. They’d been lucky, Max thought. Another few weeks and the leaf cover would have been too thick to see the cabin from the main road. They might have driven right by and missed it.
Lambert needlessly adjusted the dark sunglasses that hid his eyes. “I’m trying to decide if I want him to know I’m here or not,” he answered and checked his watch. “And I’m wondering where my backup is. My lieutenant should have already been here with a half-dozen squad cars.”
“Caroline’s in there,” Max said tightly. “He could be doing anything to her. You have to move now.”
Lambert turned to him and removed his glasses carefully. His eyes were sharp, alert, but void of any of the terrified urgency Max felt bubbling inside him. “I have to follow procedure, Dr. Hunter,” he said calmly.
Max’s chest tightened, then the breath exploded out of him as the terror simply boiled over.
“Fuck procedure! You can take your procedure—”
Lambert held up one hand. “I know what you’re going to say, but you need to understand. We have procedure for a reason. If I go in there half-cocked, I could get Mary Grace or Agent Thatcher’s son hurt, or worse. He’d have another hostage and then where would we be? You need to stay calm or I’ll have to restrain you. For the sake of the two innocent people in there, will you restrain yourself?”
Max clenched his jaw so hard his teeth hurt. “Yes.” “Good.” He got out of the car. “Stay here and for God’s sake don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want to worry about you three, too.”
Max waited until he’d disappeared into the trees before unfastening his seat belt. He could appreciate procedure and even Lambert’s sense of calm, but he knew Caroline was in there, suffering and he knew what he had to do. “David, keep Tom here. I don’t care if you have to tie him up.” He turned in his seat, finding Tom glaring at him as he’d expected. “Your mother needs to find you safe here. Please, Tom, if you love your mother you’ll stay here with David.”
Tom’s eyes flashed, anger and hate and fear, all turbulently mixed. “And what about you?”
Max gripped the end of his cane. What about me? I love her, more than … He found himself swallowing the lump of emotion back down. I love her too much to let that animal terrorize her another minute. “If something happens to me, make sure you tell her none of the legalities matter. Tell her I would have done anything to have even one more day with her. Can you remember that?”
Tom stared at him another long second then shook his head and pulled on the handle of the door, stopping when David’s arms banded around him, holding him. Irritated, Tom tried to shrug David away, but David held tight. “Let go of me. That’s my mother in there!”
Max reached over the seat, trapping Tom’s jaw between his thumb and forefinger until the boy settled and met his gaze. “Do you honestly think you can persuade him to let her go? Think again, Tom. He’s killed. He will not simply give her up because you show up and demand it. What he’ll do is use you to make your mother do whatever he wants. Knowing you’re safely hidden away on your camping trip is the only thing she has to keep her going right now. Don’t give him another pawn to use against her.” He squeezed Tom’s jaw. “Do you promise?”
