Thomas nodded. “Can’t say I blame you there.”
* * * *
A deputy returned to the Manasota house with Rob and waited while he finished collecting their things, then drove him to the house where he picked up Laura’s truck. It was better if he went home for now. The general consensus felt Laura was the primary target.
Steve was understandably upset when Rob arrived to pick up Doogie. “How long is she going to stay out there?”
Rob shrugged. “Don’t know. I don’t want her out there, but I don’t want her dead, either. If they can find this whacko, she can come home. If not, she won’t be safe here.” He stroked Doogie’s head. “And you can’t tell anyone where she is. No one. Not even Carol or Sarah. Don’t even say she’s out of town. Just say she’s not here and you don’t know when she’ll be in. If someone accidentally lets it slip where she is—”
“Don’t worry. We won’t.”
Rob took Doogie and went back to the condo. He felt as empty as the rooms there without Laura waiting for him. He had to call Shayla and tell her the news and not to spread it around. The only thing she could tell everyone was that Laura wouldn’t be around for a while. That Shayla didn’t know where she’d gone, or when she’d return.
Which was the truth, because he didn’t tell her where he’d sent Laura even though he suspected she’d easily guess Montana.
* * * *
Bill didn’t skimp on his little sister. He’d arranged first class for her, and since the airline had been notified of the special circumstances, Laura had the row to herself. She curled up by the window and watched the ground sweep past as they took off. The plane veered northwest, over the Gulf.
In an hour, they were flying over oil rigs and the Mississippi Delta outside of New Orleans. The landscape changed from green to brown as they approached the Midwest. She watched mountains, fields, and strange cities and towns slowly pass beneath her. At one point she dozed for a little while, then a flight attendant asked her to come to the front of the plane.
She kept her play collar in her hands the whole time, rubbing her fingers over the soft leather.
It was the only thing keeping her from crying.
The head steward approached her. “Ms. Spaulding?”
Her heart froze, sure that he was going to tell her Rob was dead. That something horrible had happened and MedicineMan had struck.
“Yes?”
“TSA told us you’re to deplane first. Your brother is already at the airport. The airport police will make sure your baggage is transferred to your connecting flight, and officers will stay with you until you make the plane change.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Laura felt eyes on her as she made her way back to her seat. No doubt there were curious passengers who heard some of her exchange with the crew. She hated the attention and wanted to know when she would wake up from the nightmare.
The flight attendants were very kind, and one even sat next to her for the landing. Officers were waiting when the door opened and the gangway was attached, Bill standing close behind them.
He didn’t recognize her at first and she had her first genuine laugh of the day as he did a double-take over her new hairdo. He held out his arms and she fell into them, enjoying the hug.
“Don’t say it.”
He smiled. “You went and done it.” He took her knapsack and laptop case from her. The officers escorted them to the next gate and helped them board. Once the plane was in the air, she relaxed for the first time that day.
Denver fell away behind them, the landscape giving way to the Rocky Mountains. When she felt the plane descend toward Bozeman, Bill took her hand and squeezed it. “You okay?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head, tears rolling down her face. She’d just started recalling memories about her and Rob, and now she didn’t have him, either. Her life had been put on hold, and she felt terrified.
The breakdown loomed despite doing her best to stave it off. Bill helped collect her luggage and then they traveled across to the private aviation section of the airport, where he loaded her and her luggage into his plane.
That’s where she finally let loose, sobbing in his arms, crying, screaming in the small cockpit while she vented the terror and anger from her system.
The flight to Gardiner from Bozeman didn’t take long. From there they drove to his house, a few minutes north of town.
Gardiner sat just outside the north entrance to Yellowstone. Bill’s house was located on fifty rolling acres in a valley surrounded by hills and pine trees, a large but cozy log cabin with all the amenities. His three dogs, all mutts, came running from the porch to greet them when they pulled in. She sat down among them and let them sniff her, enjoying their furry presence.
It was the first comforting event that had blessed her all day.
She called Rob and reached his voice mail. She also left a message for Thomas that she was safe. The dogs gathered around her once more, so she spent time playing with them and wishing Rob would call.
Bill discussed making dinner and Laura looked at the sky. “Is it that late already?” She glanced at her watch.
He laughed. “Jet lag and an unfamiliarity with Montana summers. It’s after seven.”
“You’re kidding.” She looked at his watch and reset hers with a twinge of regret. It was one less connection to home. It felt like a week had passed instead of hours. It was still only Tuesday afternoon.
Nothing exciting had happened to him since his return from Florida. He flew tourists, hunters, supplies, mail, and medical patients between the Livingston and Bozeman areas to and from more isolated locales.
His career started after he graduated from the Air Force academy. While training to be a pilot, he was injured in a football game after hours, nearly breaking his neck. The injury was life-threatening and enough to keep him out of a fighter cockpit.
He had a medical discharge, flight training, but not enough to get him a job with a large airline. He opted for private enterprise and a friend of his hooked him up with a charter company in the northwest. Within a year he opened his own company with two other pilots working for him. He lived well and didn’t miss the hot Florida summers.
“The bugs are nasty though. You wouldn’t believe.”
“Nastier than Florida?”
He laughed. “Laur, we’ve got mosquitoes the size of pelicans.”
* * * *
The evening grew chilly. After dinner, Bill lit a fire and they sat with the dogs and talked. Mostly Bill did the talking. Laura asked him questions, recalled fragments of memory, and had him clarify things. He talked about their parents. He told her about her fifth birthday, when she tried to play Rocket J. Squirrel to his Bullwinkle and nearly impaled herself on a fence when she jumped off a tree stump. He told her about grandparents, an aunt and uncle, a couple of cousins.
When the phone rang Bill answered it, passing it to Laura.
“Hi, honey. How you doin’?”
Rob’s voice was a welcomed sound. Bill discreetly left the room while they talked. Doogie missed her terribly, Steve and Carol said hi, and the police didn’t have any new developments.
“Have you checked your email lately?”
Her heart skipped. “Why? Do the police think he’s sent one?”
“No, silly. I sent you an email.”
She laughed. “Oh. Sorry. I guess I’m just super-suspicious.”
“With good reason.” They chatted for a few more minutes before he said good-bye. “I love you, baby girl. I’ll be out there soon, okay?”
“Okay, Sir. I love you, too.”
Bill returned a few minutes later. “I’ve got tomorrow off so it doesn’t matter if I pull a late one, but it’s got to be way past your bedtime.”
Laura looked at her watch and did a fast calculation, suddenly yawning. “I guess I am tired.”
He hugged her and they said good night. The double bed in his guest room, without someone next to her, felt huge.
>
She tried to put it into perspective. At least I’m alive to complain about it.
Before crawling into bed, she retrieved her iPad and punched in the password to hook it up to Bill’s wireless modem. She checked her email.
Sure enough, there was Rob’s message.
My sweet baby girl,
I promise I’ll do everything I can to get out there as soon as possible. I love you, and I miss you, but I also promised when you agreed to be Mine that I would protect you.
And I meant it.
Here are My orders: I want you to carry your collar with you everywhere. If you can wear it at night, do so. If not, that’s okay, but keep it with you in bed. Always carry it in your pocket or your purse, where you can touch it when you feel sad. And when you touch it, you think of Me. You think about how much I love you, and how once we’re through this, I’m going to stand up in front of all our friends and collar you as My slave before I marry you.
Email Me every morning when you wake up, and every evening before you go to bed. I know cell reception isn’t great out there, but if you can text Me, too, do that as well.
your loving Master.
The screen went blurry as she cried, tears rolling down her cheeks as she silently sobbed over the message. The collar lay on the bed next to her. She picked it up and pressed it to her lips, inhaling and smelling the comforting, familiar scent of leather.
The scent of Him. Of the leather cuffs he buckled around her wrists and ankles before they played, of the leather floggers he used on her, of the black boots he sometimes wore to the club and she’d kneel with her forehead pressed against them.
It was his leather boots she dreamed about as she cried herself to sleep, alone.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Wednesday morning, she awoke to a message from her stalker in her email. She sat, numb, while Bill called Det. Thomas and reported it.
Sorry I didn’t get to play with you before I was interrupted. We could have had a lot of fun together.
Don’t worry, we still will. I’m very, very patient.
She buried herself in the old journals she had with her, going through everything in an attempt to escape the hell her life had become.
Thursday, Bill had to get back to his schedule. Laura flew with him a few times over the next several days on shorter delivery runs when he had passenger space. She wasn’t keen on flying, but she took her camera and snapped some breathtaking aerial shots.
Bill even coaxed her into taking the controls for short periods of time in calm conditions. While she enjoyed the feel of flying, she thought it wasn’t something she would do on her own.
Montana was different. Rugged landscapes, towering mountains, a literal polar opposite from everything she knew in Florida. It would have been a good kind of different under better circumstances.
A week later, she was pining for home and Rob. Unfortunately he couldn’t leave yet. The wife of one of the guys at the station had a baby and needed to take a couple of weeks off. He’d filled in for Rob while Laura was in the hospital, so Rob felt obliged to do the same.
Heartbroken, Laura agreed. They talked, at least briefly, every evening his time. Between those all too short conversations they e-mailed and texted.
There were no more emails from MedicineMan.
Bill owned two gentle horses he rarely had time to ride. Laura made a point of going out with them for a couple of hours each day. Determined to renew her journaling habit, she decided to go old-school and purchased a new notebook and package of pens during a shopping trip into town.
She rode out to a beautiful overlook every day and wrote whatever came to mind. Much of her childhood and adolescence was again intact. There were still gaping holes in the past several years—including some of her time with Rob the past several months.
Perhaps it was fear of losing what she’d regained, perhaps it was several months of writing skills lying dormant, she didn’t know. Within a week she had filled the first journal and started a second. Soon she wrote not just during her rides, but anytime she thought of something.
Obsessing over the missing journals wasn’t healthy for her, and she wasn’t too oblivious to realize it. She decided to go back to some of her old journals and take notes from story ideas she jotted down in the past. As a result she came up with a story idea she wanted to expand upon.
Over the next several days she generated close to twenty thousand words and felt there might even be a good novel in it. If nothing else, it kept her mind off her loneliness.
One evening Bill noticed her going through an old journal and then writing something in a new one.
“Putting the puzzle back together?”
She nodded. “Something like that.”
“You always have been big on that, almost religious. Every day. Never stopped. Did you find the missing ones yet?”
“No.”
“You looked all over your office?”
She nodded. “Through my computers, everywhere.”
“You’ll find them. Or you’ll get enough memories back that you’ll remember where you put them.”
She wasn’t so sure. “I hope so.”
Rob called her later that evening.
“I miss you, Sir.”
“I know. I miss you, too, baby girl.”
“I want to come home.”
His voice changed to Dom tone. “We’ve had this conversation. It’s not safe.”
“How do we know he’s not just laying low until I return? What if you leave and he follows you out here? I’m tired of putting my life on hold like this.”
“Let’s give it two more weeks. If nothing else happens, I’ll come out and get you and we’ll drive home together. All right?”
“Two more weeks? No, Sir, I don’t want to—”
“Laura.” The firm sadness in his voice silenced her as much as his Dom tone. “I don’t like this any more than you do. He almost took you from me once. I’m not letting him have a second chance.”
She couldn’t respond.
“Are you there?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.
“This is for your own good.”
“Yes, Sir.” They said their good-byes and she returned to the living room, dejected.
“What’s wrong?” Bill asked.
She couldn’t look at him. “He said at least two more weeks.”
“Hey, sis, if it’s what needs to happen, then that’s it. No argument.”
She picked up her latest journal and pen and started writing to escape her misery at missing Rob and everyone else. Rob had ordered her not to tell Shayla or the others where she was, or to email them for fear of that somehow giving away her location. She was allowed to text message with them only, but the cell reception was spotty, meaning most of the time she couldn’t even do that.
When she went to send Rob her evening email, she found he’d surprised her with pictures of Doogie and him on the shop dock. She smiled, missing them all the more, wanting her life back.
This isn’t how my life should go, away from home and hiding from some faceless psycho.
She cried herself to sleep.
* * * *
The next morning, Laura forced herself to go riding. The horses loved her for it, but her mind didn’t make the journey with her. She was once again too focused obsessing over the missing journals.
Despite Bill and Rob both telling her to try to relax about it, it was all she could think about.
Nightmares once again plagued her dream, the shadow bursting through the front door. She couldn’t help but think it had to be key to solving the mystery.
On Sunday, Bill announced he had a surprise for her.
They drove out to the airfield where a friend of Bill’s gave aerial tours of Yellowstone. It was breathtaking and took her mind off her problems. Later, they went on a drive and he showed her a lake not far from the house where bald eagles nested. She watched them hunt, swooping down and plucking fish out of the
water with surgical precision. By the end of the day she felt tired but happy.
Rob got the short version on the phone. Later, she curled up with her laptop and sent him an email detailing her day’s adventures. She hit send and shut the computer down, ready for bed. Rob would answer by morning. Sleep eluded her, and a half hour later she decided to go back and read over some of her old articles again in hopes that maybe it would trigger something.
Anything.
Two hours later, it hadn’t. Dejected, she set the computer on the nightstand and tried to sleep.
Nothing looked clearer the next morning, either. Bill noticed her foul mood at breakfast.
“What’s up?”
She told him.
“You’ll figure it out eventually, sis. They have to be somewhere. You didn’t just stop or lose them.”
“Well, where the hell are they?”
“You’ll find them,” he insisted.
* * * *
There was only one week left in her agreed Montana tenure when the note arrived in her email one morning. After opening Gmail she scanned the inbox and felt her stomach tighten.
MedicineMan.
Det. Thomas was at his desk and put her on hold while he got in touch with Hutchins. The tech logged in and accessed the newest threat.
Thomas returned to the phone. “What does it say?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t read it yet. I’m almost afraid to.”
“Go ahead. I’ve got Hutchins working on it on his end.”
Hesitating, she finally forced herself to click on the message.
Her voice trembled as she read it to Thomas.
“Where have you been? I’m really missing you. Can’t wait for you to come home. I have big plans.”
“This guy is obviously stalking everywhere he knows you usually are.”
“Have you been keeping an eye on Rob?”
“This guy’s after you, not him.”
Pinch Me [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Page 34
