Kidnapped ik-10

by Jan Burke

  Troy was studying me. “Genie said you know where our sister Carrie is. Do you?”

  “Yes, and after the police know that everyone is okay, I’ll make sure she gets a chance to talk to you.”

  “Our mom is on vacation,” Aaron volunteered.

  “Really?” I said, a little faintly. “You mentioned Genie. Where is she?”

  Troy said, “She went back to save Daddy from Cousin Cleo.”

  Caleb went pale. “Oh, no…”

  “Troy,” Aaron said, “give her the note, remember?”

  Troy fished in his jacket pocket, then handed me a piece of notebook paper. Caleb read over my shoulder.

  Ben tried to call the San Bernardino Sheriff’s Department again. He connected, but before he could give more than his name, he was transferred.

  “What?” Ben shouted into the phone a moment later. “She’s not part of any authorized search team…. No dogs? Arrest her…. I don’t know what charges, but she’s up to something. She’s connected to the” — he glanced at the boys — “the family. No, we broke up. But I’m not calling about Anna.”

  I extended the note toward him, and he reached for it, causing him to lose the connection again. He made a hissing sound of exasperation and, as he hit redial, told me, “Anna’s up here. One of the guys in the SBSD saw her picking up a map from a real-estate office while he was on patrol.”

  He got through and gave the SBSD his attention again. “Listen,” he said, “forget Anna. This is far more important, and my phone’s not going to last. I’m on Cold Creek, and we’ve found the boys. Yes, Troy and Aaron. They seem to be okay, but their sister and Roy Fletcher—” A series of ominous beeps sounded from the phone. Only the presence of small children kept us from saying what ran through our minds.

  Ben took a calming breath. “They heard me say we found the boys, I named this road, and they’ll have my number on caller ID. The cell phone company may be able to tell them exactly where.”

  I asked the boys if anyone else was at the house.

  “Just Dad, Genie, and Cleo,” Troy said. “Cleo is really mean. And weird.”

  “You have mail there,” Aaron told me. “I raised the flag on the mailbox.”

  “Mail?”

  “A camera with pictures of us in it,” Troy said. “And our snowman.”

  “But not our snowboy,” Aaron added.

  “I’m going up there,” Caleb said.

  “I’ll go with you. Ben?”

  “I’ll stay here with Aaron and Troy and the dogs. I suppose it’s useless to tell you not to approach until the sheriff’s department arrives?”

  “Useless,” Caleb agreed. “We’ll be careful.”

  “Better be,” Troy warned us. “Cleo hurts people.”

  “Take the dogs to protect you,” Aaron advised.

  “They don’t bite,” Troy reminded him. “So they aren’t guard dogs.”

  “The dogs will stay here with us, waiting for the sheriff’s department,” Ben said. He added sternly, “Irene and Caleb are not going to do anything but make sure that Cleo doesn’t take Genie and your dad away from the cabin. Right?”

  “Right,” I agreed, although Caleb was already back in the Jeep and didn’t hear him.

  “Oh!” Troy said. “Don’t drive up the road, because Cleo can see your car on the curve. You have to hide in the trees or she might catch you.”

  I tossed my keys to Ben. “We’d better approach on foot.”

  I motioned to Caleb. A minute later we were running up the road.

  CHAPTER 56

  Wednesday, May 3

  3:15 P.M.

  SAN BERNARDINO MOUNTAINS

  GENIE got back to the cabin after seeing the boys on their way and let herself back in as quietly as possible. Upstairs, she could hear Cleo pacing around, yelling at Dad. As usual, Dad was just letting her yell.

  Genie took off her gloves and hat. She took the knife out of her jacket pocket.

  Now what?

  She decided that she would hide in the linen closet near the top of the stairs. When Cleo came by, she would stab her and push her down the stairs so she would die, just like Mom died.

  She made it to the closet under the cover of Cleo’s shouting. It was dark inside the closet, but she kept the door open the barest crack to watch for Cleo, and after a little while, her eyes adjusted to the low light. Cleo’s yelling took more breaks now. Once in a while Genie could hear the creaking of the bed. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had made her mad. She was calling Dad a liar, saying he had tricked her. She used a whole lot of bad words. She said that no one had the right to mess with her. She knew the kids were gone. She was saying she was going to be gone, too, and leave him here to explain everything. She laughed at that, but soon she was yelling again. She said she had loved him and saved him and his miserable kids, and this was how he repaid her.

  Genie tuned out most of what she was saying, but kept thinking that maybe she wouldn’t have to stab Cleo. She was angry with her, but if Cleo left, then maybe they could all be safe. She would just wait for Cleo to go out of the house, then let Dad know she was here.

  She heard the bedroom door open, then Cleo slammed it shut. She came marching by the closet, carrying two large duffel bags. She paused, doubled back to stand in front of the closet door. Genie held her breath. Cleo shouldered the door all the way shut with a bang, saying, “Damned kids made a mess of this place.”

  She went down the stairs.

  Genie waited until she heard the front door open, eased the closet door open again, and peered around it, half-expecting Cleo to be waiting for her.

  She heard the garage door open, heard the sound the SUV’s alarm made when you pressed the remote on the keychain to disarm it and unlock all the doors. She put the knife back in her pocket, then hurried down the hall and opened the bedroom door.

  She suddenly understood why Dad hadn’t argued back. He was tied to the bed with duct tape, and there were strips of duct tape across his eyes and mouth. There was a sheet on top of his stomach and legs, but he didn’t have any clothes on.

  She hurried up to him, whispering, “Daddy, it’s me, Genie. Don’t worry, I’ll help you. I’m going to take the tape off your mouth, but please don’t say anything, even if it hurts.”

  Below, she heard the sound of the SUV starting up, backing out of the garage.

  Wincing, she reached for the edge of the tape. His skin was cool to her touch. She pulled quickly, saying, “Sorry!” as it came free.

  His jaw dropped, but he didn’t say anything, just lay there open-mouthed. She bent closer but could feel no warm breath, no sound. In rising panic, she pressed her ear to his bare chest. It was cold and still — no heartbeat.

  As she backed away in horror, she saw the swelling at his temple, the Beretta NEO on the floor.

  Genie screamed, a sound from somewhere down inside her chest that came out loud and long and terrified.

  “He wasn’t expecting it, of course,” Cleo said from the doorway.

  Seeing Genie’s shock, she laughed. “Go ahead, scream again.”

  Genie closed her mouth, her lips trembling, and locked her knees to prevent her legs from giving way beneath her. She looked at the Beretta and kicked it beneath the bed. As she did so, she tucked her hands in the deep pockets of her jacket and found the handle of the knife.

  “Oh, that’s interesting,” Cleo said, leaning against the door frame. “You didn’t try to pick it up and shoot me with it. Could it be that you’re the one who emptied the gun? See, Roy — I know you call him your dad, but did you know he had your real father killed?”

  “Shut up, you liar!” Genie screamed.

  “I’m probably the first person to tell you the truth in five years, and you call me a liar?”

  She walked into the room. Genie backed away from her.

  “But I digress,” Cleo said. She smiled at Genie, then reached back and ran a finger along Dad’s face. “He looks surprised, doesn’t he?”


  Genie edged toward the door.

  “I wouldn’t try it, if I were you,” Cleo said. “Even if I gave you a head start, I could outrun you and do just what I did to dear Roy. Your best bet is to keep me happy. I like you better than the boys, you know. I think you have promise. I do think you might have what it takes. Maybe I’ll keep you for my own little girl, teach you, the way I was taught.”

  Genie felt sick to her stomach.

  Cleo was watching her now. She reached into her pocket and pulled out tattered pieces of paper and scattered them over Dad’s body, like flower petals. “Take, for example, writing this letter. I hate that bitch Irene Kelly, but not every girl would have thought of this.”

  Genie’s eye caught the changing colors of the lights in the panel near the bed. She prayed to God that the boys weren’t coming back. She had to distract Cleo.

  “How do you know Dad — uh, Roy — killed my father?”

  Cleo laughed. “Killed your father? Oh no. I killed your father.” She stared at the body on the bed. “Both of them. Took them by surprise. Roy wasn’t expecting me to hit him with an empty gun. Stunned him. That’s what gave me the opportunity to break his neck. So I guess I should thank you for helping me do the unexpected. Now, be good, and tell me where my ammunition is, and after we get away from here, I’ll teach you how to shoot better than the boys.”

  Genie took a chance. “So you know we found the other two guns, too?”

  Cleo’s smile grew sly. “The one in the desk and the one in the closet, yes. I suppose you found the one in the closet when you put your coats away. The other when you were looking for stamps?”

  Genie nodded.

  “What else have you found?”

  “An envelope,” she answered, as if she didn’t know about the gun in the kitchen.

  Cleo paused, listening. Genie still heard the sound of the engine of the SUV, idling outside.

  Cleo looked at the alarm lights. “Goddammit!” she shouted, and rushed toward Genie.

  Genie turned and ran for the stairs.

  CHAPTER 57

  Wednesday, May 3

  3:28 P.M.

  SAN BERNARDINO MOUNTAINS

  WE worked our way down the drive quickly but carefully. We heard the SUV idling in front of the cabin before we caught a glimpse of it. We didn’t want to risk getting shot by Cleo, but we also didn’t want to helplessly watch as Genie was driven away by Roy and Cleo.

  “Maybe she’s in there, hurt,” Caleb said anxiously.

  “The sheriff’s will be here in a few minutes.”

  “That could be a few minutes too long.”

  “We need to have some strategy,” I said.

  He looked over at me. “Like what?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that booby trap. Maybe we could somehow get Genie out, keep Cleo and Roy in, and then somehow set the booby trap so that it turns the whole house into a kind of prison cell until the sheriff’s department gets here.”

  “Sounds good,” he said, and kept moving forward.

  I wasn’t so satisfied, because we hadn’t worked out the whole “Genie gets out, they stay in” part, but I didn’t have any solid suggestions to make.

  We were still some distance from the cabin when we heard the scream — a child’s high-pitched scream, a sound of utter terror. At that, we stopped being so cautious.

  It wasn’t until we were at the open door of the cabin that we heard voices — Cleo’s and Genie’s — and hesitated, just for a moment, aware that neither of us had any kind of weapon.

  Then we heard Cleo yell, “Goddammit!” and heard running. We saw Genie reach the top of the stairs, saw Cleo grab her. That decided the matter — we ran for the stairs.

  Caleb was ahead of me, charging toward the struggling pair. Genie had pulled a knife out of her jacket and made a stab at Cleo, who blocked with her forearm and got cut into the bargain. Although Cleo screeched, she didn’t seem to be hurt much, and took hold of Genie’s wrist in a hard grip. Genie dropped the knife, but by that time we had made it up the stairs, and Caleb kicked it out of range — it fell over the edge of the small landing and down into the living room. Caleb kept coming, and Cleo shoved Genie toward his feet. That sent both Genie and Caleb sprawling — and nearly caused me to fall on top of them. Caleb landed awkwardly, trying to avoid hurting Genie, and in the next instant Cleo delivered a vicious kick to Caleb’s ribs.

  That bit of meanness left her open to my own entry into the fight, and I used that opportunity to launch an unscientific but effective tackle. The three of us made a kind of dog pile, with an ever-changing top dog.

  We didn’t fall down the stairs so much as slowly and painfully roll and scrabble over one another until we reached the bottom, followed by Genie, who was the only one of us to get back on two feet at the same time. All of us were shouting, scratching, and swearing. Cleo caught hold of the banister, and while I pried her fingers loose, Caleb tried to keep her from kicking me.

  She bucked and twisted and we rolled a little farther, changing positions. Now I tried grabbing the banister to keep myself from being squashed — this time Cleo pried my fingers loose, and she tried bending them backward until Caleb got hold of her neck and her attention went to him.

  No rules applied — we all pulled on arms, legs, hair, and clothing. A sharp jab to the cut Genie had made on Cleo’s right arm could be counted on to cause her to lose her grip and scream at us, but all the blood made her arm slippery. She landed a hard jab of her elbow in my face. I saw stars and felt blood stream over my mouth and chin, briefly went dizzy enough to wonder if I was going to be sick all over her, but I didn’t loosen my grip on her.

  Genie contributed furious kicking whenever she got a clear shot at Cleo, which wasn’t often, and some biting, but she quit that after she got me by mistake once.

  We rolled off the stairs and onto the living-room floor. Nobody had the breath to do more than grunt or moan. We bashed into furniture and walls, backing up, going at it again. Cleo fought halfway free and pulled us toward the kitchen. She fell beneath our combined efforts to tackle her. She kicked and clawed at me, I kicked and clawed back. I could feel her tiring, although she still struggled. Caleb and I managed to get up to her shoulders at the same time, and we flattened her beneath our combined weight.

  The place smelled like bleach, and I glanced up and saw an open bottle of it on the counter. The sharp scent cleared my head as effectively as smelling salts.

  “Caleb, get your sister and get the hell out of here!” I shouted. “Take the SUV and go, now!”

  “I’m not going to leave you here to get killed by this asshole,” he said, pressing Cleo’s face into the floor as he said it. She tried to kick him, but we had her legs pinned too well.

  “Much more of this, and she’ll kill both of us. Then who’ll make sure your sister gets far enough away from her to be safe?”

  He got the message, and I shifted over Cleo, covering her like a rug with my greater height and weight.

  He staggered to his feet, grabbed Genie, and stumbled out the door. My last view of Genie was a worried look cast over her shoulder.

  Cleo quickly proved that she was only giving herself a little breather. We began to fight again, never getting to our feet, knocking over kitchen chairs. My biggest challenge was keeping her hands out of drawers and cabinets. Kitchens are full of things that grate, stab, and puncture, and pots and pans can be lethal weapons, too. Twice I used a saucepan to smash the hell out of her fingers as she reached for the block of knives on the counter. She took some hits to the injured forearm blocking blows I aimed at her head, and a solid hit to the elbow of the other arm — the elbow she had used on my nose — caused her to howl in pain and rage.

  I was almost on my feet, she was on her back, and I was thinking I might have half a chance if I just made a run for it myself, when all the rock and roll came to a halt. She pulled a gun from beneath one of the drawers and aimed it at me.

  I tried very hard not to think about
Sheila Dolson’s hollow left eye as I backed up toward the sink, shielding myself with a nonstick three-quart saucepan.

  She frowned at the gun for a brief moment, and I was wondering if by luck I had broken her trigger finger, but then she smiled that cold smile of hers.

  I felt behind me, but the only thing that came into my hand was the bleach bottle.

  Gunshots can be survivable, I told myself. Ethan survived. Distract her aim.

  “Looks like you lose,” she said. “Now we’ll do things my way.”

  So I threw the pan to one side and tossed bleach into her face. The gun made a dull click, but I was only dimly aware of that, because she quickly dropped it and began screaming in pain, groping blindly toward me.

  I ran without any grace or real speed toward the door, shut it behind me, and kept going. I came out of the cabin just as three sheriff’s department cruisers came roaring up, screeching to a halt a few feet from me. The Jeep pulled up just behind them.

  I live with a cop, so I knew to stand still and hold my hands away from my sides. I didn’t match Cleo’s description, and most of the deputies ran right past me, weapons ready. Others gently guided me to a seat in a cruiser. I sat there shaking and trying to catch my breath.

  “What took you so long?” I asked Ben when he stepped out of the Jeep. Bingle, Bool, and Altair were greeting me with barks of gladness. It cheered me up.

  Ben was frowning, though, and came quickly to my side.

  “Call an ambulance,” he said to the deputy.

  “I don’t need one, but Cleo might.”

  “You can’t see yourself,” he said.

  “My luck holds,” I muttered. I felt damned tired. “What took you so long?” I asked again.

  “Anna told the deputies that she knew where her cousin’s cabin was. They believed her. She’s still claiming it was an innocent mistake — that, they don’t believe.”

  “Caleb and Genie?”

  “On the way to the hospital to get checked out. Which is what should be happening to you. The boys are fine, too — they went with Genie and Caleb. They wanted to wait for you, but I’m glad they aren’t seeing you like this. They were worried enough about Caleb and Genie.”