Loved by Darkness

by Autumn Jordon

  After a two-second deliberation, Lia said, “Okay. I want Boo-boo bunny and my fairy princess though.”

  I smiled. Lia was so much like me. Decisive. Loyal. And as beautiful as mother. “Fine. You can bring them both.”

  I hustle her down the hall, through the kitchen and out into the garage.

  A few minutes later we’re northward bound in his foreign compact car. In less than a half hour, we’ll be out of Chief Stiles’ reach, and if luck is on our side we’ll be in Canada before nightfall.

  The stream of sea air cruising through the open window tousles my long hair. I will look a mess until I can take the time to brush it out but I didn’t care. All I care about is that Lia is safe.

  I chew my lip. I really should stop and see mother before I leave the country. She would be so happy to see I won the battle with him, but I really can’t chance being caught. The police would take Lia away from me forever. I’m the only mother Lia remembers.

  I would die without her.

  Time will provide opportunities to see mama later.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Norris’ instinct had been right.

  Bright sunlight filtered through a high window. It was a window meant to provide air, light and a means of escape in case of fire, but not a view. The empty room decorated in princess pink and purple and filled with soft cuddly creatures and toys pulled at Jolene’s heart strings while the padlock on the door made the bile in her stomach turn to hot acid.

  Dresser drawers were open and contents askew. Clothing frantically pushed to the one side kept whomever had opened them from closing the drawers altogether. Opposite the brass bed, upon a child-sized table, Jolene saw the remains of milk in a tiny china teacup and a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie almost as wide as the saucer on which it lay. The milk appeared to be fresh, not curdled which meant Lia had been there recently.

  What kind of monsters were these people? Paradise wasn’t paradise if one was imprisoned in it.

  They had caught a lucky break with the bakery owner. When the image of the woman who had bought Lia’s birthday cake came across Norris’ cell phone, the owner’s face illuminated with eagerness. Jolene saw the piece of the puzzle they’d been searching for fall into place in his eager expression. He hadn’t met the woman with long auburn curls but he’d met someone who favored her. Definitely a relative of hers. Mark Branka.

  They had wasted no time racing to the beachside home—the house she’d thought of as a dream home.

  Even the sea which lay a mere one-hundred yards away seemed stilled as they’d entered the quiet home through the open garage door. Norris had sent Pickett and Frank around the perimeter. They had no warrant, yet. But after discovering a trail of blood droplets leading inside the house through the kitchen the point became moot. The bloody tee cloth they found lying in the highly polished sink sent images of Lia’s death whirling through her mind.

  She’d been thankful when Norris said he’d follow the trail of blood into the west wing of the house while she took the right wing. She didn’t know if she could handle the sight of a child mutilated.

  She turned her head slightly at the low-key squawk of Norris’ two-way hand radio. His muffled reply had her holding her breath until silence owned the next ten seconds. Norris hadn’t cried out for medical help which in her mind meant Lia wasn’t there. Surely he wouldn’t be able to control his outrage so well. She wouldn’t.

  Jolene focused on the details of the room and picked up the white unicorn lying on the floor at her feet. She knew it was foolish to think Lia might’ve left a clue behind about the fact they’d taken her. She was only a child after all, but just the same, she hoped and searched for the smallest of hints. “Where did they take you?” she whispered, trying to put herself into the darkness that was Mark’s and his relative’s minds.

  Disappointed there was nothing there to help them find Lia, Jolene headed back to the main living area.

  “Clear. There is no one here,” Jolene said holstering her gun and entered the living room. Her heart pounded in her chest even though disappointment weighed on it.

  Norris let go of the mike he’d clipped to his shoulder earlier and slid his weapon into the sheath at his back. “It’s Branka’s silver compact that’s missing from the garage,” Norris responded, joining her by the plush cushioned sofa. “I’ve already issued a BOLO on it and every cop within one-hundred miles will be watching for the vehicle. They won’t get too far.”

  “If they intend to drive to safety.” She bit down on her bottom lip, causing a pain she could control. She didn’t need a splitting headache right now. “What if they decided to escape by sea? Or—”

  Norris cut her off. “Branka doesn’t own a boat.”

  The shear determination on his face told her he knew what she’d been about to suggest and would do anything in his power to prevent Lia from dying out on the Atlantic, but the angst welling up inside her couldn’t let her dismiss the idea so easily. “They’re desperate. They could steal one.”

  He took her hands in his. “If they do pirate one, we’ll hear about it. Launching and sailing a boat is not an easy task especially when you’re a novice sailor. I don’t think they’d try it. But I’ll have Sandy notify the Coast Guard to be on the lookout for any small crafts beyond the boat lane.”

  “What about the blood?”

  “Someone broke the mirror in the master bath.”

  “They argued.”

  “Possibly.”

  Norris’ cell phone chirped and he looked at the screen.

  “What is it?” Hope pitched her voice.

  His mouth tightened and he shook his head. “Nothing to do with this case.”

  She blew out her frustration. “So, we wait, again.”

  “It’s the hardest part of this job,” he said softly.

  He inched toward her and his hands reached out as if he meant to wrap his arms around her, but Pickett chose that moment to enter the house through the garage. Norris quickly stepped back from her.

  “Chief, we didn’t find anything to make us believe anyone might’ve escaped by way of the beach. There are no recent footprints in the path leading over the dune.”

  Norris cleared his throat and turned to face his deputy. “Okay. Tell Frank to head back into town and run his routes. You secure this property until we get the state forensic team in here. I want every room photographed and prints lifted. We need to learn the identity of the woman with Branka.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jolene looked at the artwork hanging on the walls. They were prints, bird’s-eye views of ocean landscapes. On the mantel sat a small golden airplane. She picked it up carefully by the edge and turned to face Norris. “Does Mark have a pilot’s license?”

  “I don’t know.” He scrutinized the trophy in her hand.

  Norris’ radio crackled. “Chief.”

  He keyed the mike on his shoulder. “Go ahead, Sandy.”

  “Fire Chief Turner sighted the Branka car on Flat Handle Road. He knows the car. He rode in it a few times with Branka.”

  Norris’ gaze snapped up to meet hers. “The airport.”

  “I guess that answers my question,” Jolene said, rushing toward the open garage door.

  Norris was right behind her, ordering Sandy to get in touch with the small airport’s management and connect them to him right away. “Warn them not to engage with Branka. He could be armed.”

  Norris shouted to Pickett to lock up the house and meet them at the airport ASAP. Jolene jumped into Norris’ Jeep and before she’d closed her door properly he was already backing up and spinning the vehicle around.

  “We’re fifteen minutes away.” Norris turned on the lights mounted to the top of his vehicle.

  “Isn’t there security at the airport?”

  “Ben. He retired from the force ten years ago. It’s a small airport. Mostly pilots who give air tours and do fly-by advertising. Celebrities and some rich folk use it when they visit the area. Most of
them house their planes in a hanger. All the others are tied down. The staff who are usually on duty during the day are the check-in secretary, a mechanic and Ben. The place is locked down at night. My officers cruise the area several times a night.”

  Jolene clung to the door handle when Norris took a hard left onto a side road that served as the main entrance to a bayside campground.

  “Short cut,” he said, tossing her a smile.

  Through the two-way radio, Sandy announced Mark was not at the airport yet. The fire chief had turned around and was following him at a safe distance and reported they were within two miles of the small airport.

  Norris spoke into his mike while maneuvering around a motorhome on the narrow highway: “Sandy, find out from the airport’s secretary where Mark’s plane is housed.”

  “10-4, Chief.”

  “If he does keep his plane in the hanger, we’ll need to be careful approaching it.” He glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard and immediately the tension lining his face intensified.

  “He’ll need to do a check of his plane before he takes off.”

  Norris glanced at her. His eyes softened. He recognized that she tried to alleviate his worry that they would arrive too late.

  “I have my pilot’s license,” Jolene said. Her shoulder bumped against the door panel when Norris turned right off the two-lane highway and onto what appeared to be a dune path that put them heading north again.

  “If you were trying to get away with little time to spare, would you do a full check?” he asked.

  “I would, especially if I didn’t want to harm the girl,” Jolene said.

  The stop sign ahead seemed to appear out of nowhere and they jolted to a halt.

  “What if he doesn’t care if he harms Lia?” Norris asked. “Once he’s up in the air, he could dump her into the ocean and we might never find her again. No body. No trial.”

  She pointed ahead to Flat Handle Road and then gripped her seat. “Move.”

  Norris jammed his right foot down on the accelerator. Smoothly he wove around traffic and eight minutes later they sped through the open gate leading into the airport. They skidded to a halt and a gray-haired male security officer rushed to the driver’s door.

  “Did you see Mark Branka, Ben?”

  “I didn’t see him. I saw his little compact however. There was a woman driving it. She drove by me as if she knew where she was going. She parked near the hanger’s rear door. Then she and a little girl got out and went inside.”

  “Could they be waiting for Mark?” Jolene asked.

  “I don’t know. Either way, she has Lia,” Norris pointed out.

  “Anyone else in the hanger?” Jolene asked.

  “Nah. Lucus called in sick today. It’s only me and Lois working the place.”

  Norris nodded. “Pickett is on the way. Close off the entrance. Have him keep an eye out for Mark.”

  “Will do, Chief.”

  Jolene grabbed his arm. “The hanger door is opening.”

  Norris leaned forward clutching the steering wheel. “It’s the woman Tessa saw.”

  From this distance, the woman’s facial features were not clear, but her long auburn hair led Jolene to believe Norris was right.

  The woman gave the door a last shove and then rushed back into the hanger. A moment later a small plane rolled out onto the tarmac and quickly picked up speed while heading toward the runway. Norris jumped out of the Jeep.

  “What are you doing?” Jolene rushed around the front of the Jeep.

  “I’m going to stop her from taking off.” Norris drew his gun and took aim.

  “Not with that,” Jolene slapped his hand down. “Lia is in the plane.”

  “I’ll shoot the tires out.”

  “She’s four-hundred yards away. If you miss, you could hit the fuel tanks and the whole plane could go up in flames. Listen to me. I know what I’m talking about.”

  Norris frowned. “Okay. How do you propose we stop them?”

  “Get back in the Jeep.” She headed for the passenger door.

  “And do what? Drive in front of them?” He threw his arms in the air. “They’ll either fly above us or crash into us which could get us all killed.”

  “That is a Cessna 172 Skyhawk. It’s a prop plane which carries its fuel in the wings. All we need to do is bump the tail section enough to damage the controls. Without the tail flap and rudder the pilot won’t get lift off or be able to control the direction of the plane. She’ll have no choice but to stop.”

  Taking her advice, Norris jammed the Jeep into gear and gunned it toward the runway where the plane had begun to taxi.

  They swerved onto the runway behind the vintage silver plane.

  Jolene held her breath. It seemed an hour had passed before Norris nudged the Jeep’s push-bar against the tail of the plane, bending the horizontal stabilizer. The plane swerved and then hopped into the air like a bird with a broken wing. The pilot tried two more times to get the plane airborne before she veered off the runway. Yet, she remained on the gas, apparently thinking she could make a run for freedom across the field next to the runway.

  The plane hit a ditch and dove nose first into the ground.

  “Lia,” Jolene cried, already holding on to the door’s handle.

  A second later, they saw the pilot’s door open and the woman jumped from the plane and raced across the meadow.

  Jolene reached out toward the dashboard, bracing herself for a sudden stop.

  The Jeep skidded to a halt fifty yards from the plane.

  “You check on Lia.” Norris unclipped his seat belt, furious and determined. Then he jumped from the vehicle. “I’ll get the bitch.”

  Her lips tight, she answered with a nod.

  What would she find when she reached the plane? Ben had seen Lia walk with the woman into the hanger over ten minutes ago. Would she still be alive? A dead person wouldn’t fight back and would be easier to throw out of a plane.

  Jolene’s pulse thundered against her temples like a bass drum accentuating each dreadful thought while she raced, arms and legs pumping, toward the aircraft. She hesitated, holding the handle of the door for a second and pleaded to God before she yanked it open.

  Lia was buckled into the rear seat and clutched a stuffed bunny.

  Jolene released the air packed into her lungs that had pressed against her heart.

  Lia looked a little frightened but unharmed.

  “You’re okay, sweetie. I’m here.”

  Immediately a smile lifted the child’s lips into a bow and she let up on the choke hold she had on her stuffed animal.

  “Mama , Auntie Jolene. We go bye, bye.”

  Mama. As Jolene climbed inside to unbuckle Lia she peered through the open pilot’s door and saw Norris tackle the woman full force. She winced imagining the pain he’d caused the bitch.

  Good.

  Norris rose and yanked the woman to her feet and Jolene saw she no longer had a full auburn mane. Her hair was slicked back and mousey-brown.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Jolene stood outside the interrogation room watching Mark Branka through the two-way mirror. He seemed anxious, repeatedly bouncing in his seat as if he was about to jump and race for the door. However, when he caught his refection in the mirror his wild search for an escape halted and his gaze altered into hard, cold ice.

  He couldn’t possibly see through the two-way glass and know she studied him, so was his reaction one of self-loathing? Did he regret his actions, what he did to Lia? To her mother?

  In the few hours since Branka’s capture, everyone who knew him seemed baffled by his arrest including the entire police force. Norris had described Branka as an up-standing citizen who was the benefactor of many community charitable endowments, including a new addition to the local library. And the mayor, who was with Norris at the moment and stunned by the turn in the case, described Branka as a man’s man, living a jet-set life style, zooming off at a moment’s notice to many exotic locat
ions accompanied by numerous beautiful women. The mayor admitted he hadn’t spent much time with Branka since Branka’s return to the little sea-side town a month ago. However, it wasn’t until this past week Mark called him and they’d golfed together. On another evening, the mayor, his wife along with several other couples had dinner at Branka’s beach-side house, which was after Lia had been rescued—perhaps after he’d killed the girl’s mother.

  When questioned whether Lia’s rescue had been discussed at the gathering, the mayor had stated “yes, of course.” The story had been the evening’s breaking headline news, but he didn’t recall if Branka had added anything to the conversation. The mayor stated Mark had reacted like the rest of them, shocked.

  The man was a good actor. He wasn’t normal. In fact, being in a room with Branka made Jolene’s hand itch to hold her gun, finger on the trigger.

  Norris came up behind her. She gripped the butt of her Glock. “Are you ready for this?”

  Norris’ hand encased her left one, giving it a little squeeze. She shook out the tension from her right hand while she looked up at him. “Do you think he killed Lia’s mother?”

  “I don’t know. People around here who know him never saw him with a woman who had a child.”

  “Everyone has secrets.”

  “That’s true.” Norris studied her for a second as if trying to uncover her secret before he continued, “Well, Branka certainly had someone living with him. The forensic techs are still combing his house. They’ve found women’s clothing, makeup, perfumes, jewelry and they’ve pulled several sets of fingerprints from different areas in the house, and hair from clothing and the master bathroom shower drains. It’ll be a few hours until the prints are processed.”

  “And they’ll only give us an answer if the persons they belong to have been printed before.”