by Holly Quinn
Sammy logged on to her open laptop on the desk and posted the closing on Facebook before powering it down. She moved beyond the desk and reached for her winter coat hanging on a nearby rack, stuffed with her hat and gloves. While she dressed, she thought about stopping by the hospital to see if perhaps Heidi would like to go out to lunch. Then she thought about the recent flu outbreak and, due to her germophobic tendencies, decided that entering the hospital during flu season might not be a good idea either. Texting Heidi during the day wasn’t an option either, as she likely wouldn’t receive the text until her shift ended. Sammy sighed. The idea of heading to the grocery store was not an enticing one, as she’d have to bring Bara home first, because she couldn’t leave him to wait inside a frigid car.
Sammy flicked the light off and was about to step over the threshold of the office when an abrupt feeling held her back. Something caused her to hesitate. She turned around and immediately bumped into Bara. “Sorry,” she said as she gave him a quick pat on the head.
Sammy returned to her desk, removed the plastic bag containing Wanda’s quilt, and tucked it under her arm. She decided to take it home and study it a while. Maybe Wanda could provide her with more clues if she took the time to study the quilt more closely.
“Come on, pup,” she said as she tapped her leg for Bara to follow out the back entrance of Community Craft.
The rush to her car in the empty parking lot was almost unbearable. The bitter cold bit at her cheeks, causing them to sting. She hurried Bara to the back seat, where he immediately jumped inside and then jutted his head between the two front seats.
“What do you say we grab a burger?” Sammy said to her dog, after she slipped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. As she waited for the car to warm and the windshield to clear of ice patches, she phoned the Corner Grill to place two orders: one plain burger for her dog and one loaded for herself. The owner, Colin, answered the phone and told her to stay in the warmth of her car and he would deliver it as soon as the food was ready. Sammy’s mouth watered in response. Colin often provided this extra service for her during the winter months so she wouldn’t have to leave Bara waiting alone in the cold car, which she appreciated immensely. When the windshield finally cleared, she eased her car out of the icy lot and around the corner to land back on Main Street, where she double-parked directly in front of the Corner Grill.
While Sammy waited for her food delivery, she flipped on the local radio station. Her favorite broadcaster, Dave, was sharing a weather update: “Bitter-cold temperatures stay with us for the next few days, and wind chills dip to dangerous levels … another possibility for snow later this afternoon …”
Sammy grunted at the thought and turned the radio off for fear of more bad news. Bara nuzzled her shoulder, and she reached around to snuggle his nose before she heard a knock at her driver’s side window. Colin waited with a paper bag in hand, and Sammy reached into her purse for a twenty-dollar bill. It was almost double the cost of the meal, but she appreciated the extra service and compensated him well for it. “Keep the change,” she said as she rolled the window down.
“Nah, that’s too much. I’ll keep a surplus tab for you on your next order,” he said, the icy temperatures turning his breath to steam.
He quickly turned, running for the door, before Sammy had a chance to respond. She certainly understood his rush. Just dropping the window momentarily had sent a whoosh of cold air inside the car. She removed Wanda’s quilt from the plastic bag and placed it in her lap to warm up.
Bara immediately sniffed the food bag, and instead of pulling away from the parking spot, Sammy reached into the bag, pulled out a hamburger patty, and broke it up into pieces for him. After her dog had a few bites, she took a few bites of her own burger. Once she felt satisfied, she tossed the other half of her burger back into the bag for later when she arrived home. Bara needed a bit more convincing that his meal was over, but finally settled into the back seat.
Sammy drove away from the restaurant with the food still lodged in her chest. She dug inside her oversized purse with one hand for a partially full water bottle she remembered she’d left inside. She uncapped the bottle, took a swig, and pounded her chest until the food slowly went down. That’s what she got for not taking a proper lunch break and rushing to eat in her car. If she didn’t let herself get so hungry, maybe this wouldn’t constantly happen.
As she drove toward the comfort of home, she headed down Main Street and stopped at the one red light in town. She tapped her fingers along the steering wheel, impatiently waiting for the light to turn green. When the light turned, instead of driving straight and heading home, she instinctively flicked her directional left and followed the streets leading in the direction of Wanda’s house.
It wouldn’t hurt to do a quick drive-by, she thought.
When Sammy arrived in front of the Wadsworths’ house, she did a double take when she noted a man exiting the back door of the Queen Anne Victorian, moving speedily toward the detached double garage. Her heart hammered in her chest. She squinted her eyes to confirm what she already knew. Her eyes were not playing tricks on her.
Marty!
Sammy jammed the car in park but blasted the heat and let the engine idle to keep Bara warm. She removed Wanda’s quilt from her lap and tossed it aside to land on the passenger seat. She then leapt from her vehicle to try to catch up with him. Tripping her way through the snowdrifts and gasping for breath, she caught him by the arm just before he reached Wanda’s car.
Marty startled to her touch. “Sammy Kane?” His dark-brown hair looked greasy and disheveled, as if he hadn’t showered or shaved in days. A thick shadow outlined his mouth and cracked lips. “What are you doing here?”
“No! What are you doing here? The police have been looking for you! Your wife …”
“I know. Wanda’s dead,” Marty said with no hint of sadness.
The bluntness of his tone stunned her, and Sammy took a step back in disbelief.
“And I’m next if I don’t hurry out of here, so please … excuse me!” He brushed her aside with the back of one hand, opened the driver’s side door of his wife’s Volkswagen, and flung a zipped duffle bag across the seat.
“You can’t! You have to wait and talk to the authorities. They can help you!” Sammy pleaded. “Don’t just take off—go and talk with them.”
“No.” His hazel eyes blazed wildly. “They can’t help.”
“Marty! Come on now, I’ll have to tell someone I saw you. Where are you going? Tell me, please!”
“What are you, nuts? These people killed my wife, ran me off the road, threw a sack over my head, stuck me in an abandoned warehouse, and left me for dead. I’m not going to the authorities! They couldn’t protect my wife—and they can’t protect me!”
“Sure they can. I’ll call them right now. My phone’s in my car; I’ll go get it.” She jutted a thumb in the direction of her car parked out front.
Marty’s sudden change in demeanor made the hairs stand up on Sammy’s neck. Obviously, her words had struck a chord. “Get in the car,” he ordered.
“What? No!” Sammy stepped back, and he swiftly grabbed her arm tightly, dragged her to the back door of his vehicle, opened it, and shoved her inside before she had a minute to think.
“What are you doing? Marty! No!” Sammy shook her head to refocus, her mind unable to comprehend what was happening.
“Give me your hands.”
Sammy shook her head, her eyes wide, and recoiled into the seat.
“Give me your hands now!” he ordered.
Sammy backed farther into the seat, but his quick movements outpaced her.
Marty pulled the cord from his sweat shirt in one swift movement and wrapped it tightly around her wrists, then attached it to the passenger seat headrest to detain her. “Now behave, and I won’t hurt you,” he spat, spewing saliva from his mouth.
“What are you doing, Marty? You can’t do this!” Sammy still couldn’t come to grips w
ith what was happening, even as Marty got behind the wheel and the Volkswagen pulled out of the driveway. “My dog! Bara is in my car! And my car … it’s still running! If you leave it running in front of your house, someone will know I’ve been here! People who know me know I would never leave my dog behind.” Sammy thought if she could get him to stop beside her car, she could try to make an escape. Though her hands were tied and attached to the headrest, it was her only hope.
Marty behaved exactly as she’d thought he would. He pulled his car alongside hers and hopped out. Before she had a chance to escape, he locked the doors to the Volkswagen. He tore the keys from the ignition of her car and threw them in the snow. Between his movements, Sammy kicked at the door handle. In one mismanaged moment, she managed to pry the door open, but Marty slammed it back shut using his knee. Then he opened the back seat of Sammy’s car and let Bara out into the cold. Before Sammy could manage an escape, he tore away from the curb, and she watched as the image of her dog moved farther and farther away.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sammy couldn’t get past the shock coursing through her veins. Her body felt numb, as if her muscles were made of rubber. She tried to stay alert to the familiar landmarks rapidly drifting past her view from the car window. Walmart, the industrial park where the three S.H.E.s had played tag as kids, the local animal-feed store. The car was moving farther and farther west from Heartsford, and she wanted to be able to pinpoint exactly where Marty was taking her. The only thing giving her the least comfort was the fact that Bara was wearing dog tags. Surely someone would find him and take him in out of the cold. And then hopefully someone would know to look for her! A lump formed in her throat.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked finally. Her mouth was growing increasingly dry from the adrenaline rush that made her breathless with fear. She wished desperately for a sip of water.
“Sammy, I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to be sure you won’t tell anyone you saw me. And right now, I’m not getting that type of certainty from you.” He looked at her pleadingly, and she turned her head so as not to give him the satisfaction of their eyes meeting.
“You killed her, didn’t you? You killed your wife … and now you’re going to kill me too.” Sammy figured she had nothing to lose at this point. She was most definitely in a losing proposition; she might as well dig for answers. Didn’t she deserve at least that much before he chopped her into little pieces?
Marty snorted a nervous laugh. “You really do have a wild imagination, don’t you? The answer is no. I did not kill my wife. However, the people who kidnapped me certainly led to her demise, and I need to get far away from them. Otherwise I’m going to be next on their list!”
“So, let me get this straight. You’re telling me you escaped your so-called captors, and now you’ve decided it was a good idea to kidnap me?” Sammy huffed. “Isn’t that just a brilliant idea.”
Marty snorted again.
“Hey, you mind giving me a few pointers, then? How did you escape captivity? Maybe you can give me some tips on how to get away from you.” She rolled her eyes.
“Like I’d share that kind of information with you.” He regarded her again over his shoulder. “Don’t blame your little situation here on me. You didn’t leave me much choice with your needless meddling! In fact, cover your eyes or I’ll do it for you. Your choice.”
He unzipped his duffle bag, dug around with one hand, and then tossed a well-worn baseball hat to the back seat for her to block her own vision.
“Are you kidding me? How am I supposed to reach that?” Sammy couldn’t believe the audacity. Marty made it sound as if it was her own fault that her hands were tied and she was stuffed in the back seat of his car. And now he wanted her to cover her eyes? Barb was right—what a jerk!
He removed a large zip tie from the seat and zipped her wrists together, then untied her from the headrest, all while balancing the steering wheel with his knee.
“Do it!” he ordered, then constantly rechecked the rearview mirror to see if she was cooperating.
“Do what?” she said mockingly. “Not much I can do locked in the back seat of your car with my hands tied, you moron!”
“Cover your eyes with that hat or I’ll cover them for you. I do not want you to see where we’re going!” His voice rose and grew angrier, which unnerved her.
Sammy held the cap with her two hands tied together and attempted to cover her eyes as best she could under the circumstances. “Don’t you have anything else besides this smelly hat?” she asked dryly. “It stinks like old sweat!”
“How about duct tape? And keep it up, missy—don’t tempt me to use it on your mouth too!” he warned.
Sammy thought through all the possibilities of escape. Her phone had been left inside her purse, which was now abandoned inside the glove box of her car. She had no way to make a call or send a text. Heck, she didn’t even have a match to send up a smoke signal. Would someone find Bara loose and come to her aid? She dared not think of her dog left out in the cold. That last image of him standing in the road, stunned, as they drove farther away, was too much to handle. Bara was so good-natured, he hadn’t even barked when he was let out of the car and abandoned.
Sammy thought maybe she could try to kick open the door when the car slowed, but what would happen to her then? She’d die out in the cold in mere minutes. Especially if Marty was taking her out on a low country road where there was very little or no traffic. Her winter hat was also back inside her car. Sammy groaned. The putrid smell of the cap filled her nostrils, and she tried desperately not to breathe it in.
“What are you moaning about? Shut up!” Marty cautioned. “You’re making this much harder than it has to be!”
Really?
Sammy remained silent for fear that her captor would indeed cover her mouth with duct tape. She didn’t know if it was a baseless threat or if he was even smart enough to keep a roll of the stuff in the trunk of his car. Did he have a makeshift kit back there to dispose of a body? A backpack filled with rope, knives, a gun? She watched far too much Dateline, she thought. She decided that from now on she’d watch only Hallmark or the Disney Channel with Tyler instead of any more crime shows. That is, if she made it out of this mess alive.
This line of thinking wasn’t helping. Her heart began to beat faster, and she shuddered. Had he poisoned Wanda? Or had these so-called kidnappers done the deed as he claimed? She needed to calm down and ease her rapid heartbeat. If only she could clear her mind. She needed to focus on what she knew to be true.
She knew nothing.
Finally, after what seemed like an hour or more of endless driving, the car slowed and turned, allowing Sammy to shift the baseball hat from her eyes just enough to peek at their destination. They were pulling into the driveway of an abandoned farm, she quickly noted. It appeared there were no other vehicle tracks in the deep snow, causing the engine to sputter. When the Volkswagen hit the edge of a fluffy snowbank, the engine cut completely.
“Where are we?”
“Have you been here before?”
“How would I know?” she finally answered sharply. “I’ve had to smell this stinky hat the whole trip.”
Marty turned to face her squarely in the back seat, ripped the hat from her grip, and tossed it aside onto the passenger seat. He then leaned over, reached for the glove box, and removed additional extra-long zip ties.
Sammy gulped with what remaining saliva she had, which wasn’t much. She didn’t want to surmise what those long ties would be used for.
If I go out, I’m going out blazing! Her eyes darted through the window to gauge her surroundings. “Where have you taken me? I don’t have any idea where we are.” Confusion riddled her thoughts. “Should I know where we are?” Neither the oversized red flaking barn nor the pale-yellow farmhouse off in the distance looked familiar.
“Good,” Marty stated, then unlocked the doors. “Get out of the car.”
“Here?”
“Y
es, here!”
“But why here?”
“Do it!”
Sammy did her best to scoot her butt to the edge of the back seat. She hadn’t realized how hard it was to maneuver around with one’s hands tightly bound together. Marty opened the back door, noted her predicament, grabbed her tied hands, and yanked her outside the car, almost causing her to fall to her knees in the snow. Her ankle twisted, causing her to writhe in pain, and she let out a yelp. The biting wind whipped at her cheeks as he dragged her by the arm toward the old barn. There was no way she’d survive outdoors in the cold if she attempted an escape, especially now that she was limping. The temperature must’ve plummeted even further below zero. She began to shiver and her teeth chattered. She suddenly thought of Bara. The mere idea of him left out in the cold almost brought her to tears, so she pushed it away. Her eyes scanned the acreage for a nearby neighbor, but there was nothing but a sea of barren snow-covered land. Wherever they were, it was desolate.
Sammy looked up as they approached the barn and noted an eight-by-eight painted quilt block in a log-cabin pattern above her head. She smiled inwardly as she recognized the block as one of the blocks sewn on the corner of Wanda’s quilt. It gave her instant hope.
This means something.
It had to.
Marty removed a key from his pants pocket and opened a padlock attached to the large barn door. He kicked at the snow that was hampering his ability to freely open the door. He then shoved the door open to reveal the dark, cold interior.
Inside, it was obvious that the farmer who owned the property was using the space for winter storage rentals to cash in on the long, cold Wisconsin winters. Three tarp-covered boats, one pontoon about twenty feet long, and two ski boats roughly seventeen feet long lined the wall. An older-model motor home was centered in the interior of the barn, and Marty pushed Sammy in the direction of it. When they arrived, he opened the small metal door and ordered her to go inside.
