Secret Hunger (The Harper Sisters)
Page 32
The glowing green numbers of the vehicle’s digital clock mocked him. He resisted the urge to go faster than he was already risking. Even then, he estimated he’d shaved close to an hour off the usual drive time.
Dusk had finally given way to full darkness, and the last thing he needed was to run off the road. The only good thing he could say was at least there wasn’t anybody on the road with him; the landscape was deserted.
However, because the area was so remote, he’d lost cell phone service about thirty minutes ago. Luckily, he’d plugged the address of the cabin into his navigator before he had lost connection, so even though it wasn’t able to give him turn by turn instructions, he had a map of the surrounding area.
Grudgingly, he slowed down as he came upon another little town, his headlights cutting across the general store and gas station that made up the entire business district. In a lot of these places, a person couldn’t blink or they’d miss the whole town.
He peered through the darkened windshield, straining to see further ahead, hoping he wouldn’t drive by the turn off. Much to his chagrin, soft, swirling flurries had started to fall about thirty minutes ago. Mason hazarded a glance at his phone. He should be coming up on the road pretty soon.
A flash of light from a pair of eyes caught his attention, and he just barely saw the deer in time to slam on his brakes. It stood there for a split second, it’s dark, limpid eyes pooled in mystery, then bounded off to the right of the road….down what looked like an overgrown gravel path.
His pulse began to race. This was it. With a brief confirming look at the map on his phone, and a slight plea to the universe that he was correct, he turned the wheel and began to make his way down the road.
Mason could hear the tree branches scrape along the length of his truck as he slowly made his way further into the woods. The road — if you could call it that — was deeply rutted and pitted. Large banks of snow piled up on either side, causing him to weave back and forth across the narrow track.
It didn’t help that he’d cut his headlights off, afraid of tipping Robert to the fact that someone was coming. Mason leaned forward and squinted through the windshield, straining to see through the swirl of flurries beginning to drift down in earnest. He could just make out the thin, pale line of snow-covered road erratically winding its way through the gap in the shadows of the trees.
Mason knew caution was necessary, but inside, he was screaming with impatience. Finally, just as he was losing control, the shadows of the trees opened up and gave way to a small clearing. He could barely make out the shadow of a roofline by the faintest remnants of moonlight filtering through the clouds.
Braking and rolling his window down, he sat for a moment with the heater off and strained to hear anything out of place. Here in the woods, the snow was still deep from the last storm, and every sound seemed muffled and faint.
Afraid the engine might be too loud in the soft tones of night, he turned the truck off. Gradually, he became aware of the breeze rustling through the branches overhead. Somewhere off in the distance, an owl hooted.
Leaning over, he pulled out his handgun and a mini LED flashlight, and then carefully climbed out of the cab. He gently clicked the door shut behind him and thumbed the light on. A sharp, thin, beam of light speared out into the shadows. Up ahead, a soft, warm glow peeked out from the cracks in the curtains hanging in the cabin windows.
Slowly, he made his way towards the cabin, making sure to stick to the trees as much as possible. The crusty snow lightly crunching under his boots and the ghost of his breath were the only signs of his passing. Mason skirted the perimeter of the small clearing surrounding the house. There weren’t any vehicles parked in the front, so he decided to make his way around to the back.
This could just be a fisherman, a hunter, or even a couple out here looking for a quiet retreat. He didn’t want to accidentally disturb anybody at this hour if he didn’t have to…and there was no telling if this was the right cabin or not. There were a lot of cabins just like this tucked all around the remote areas of Maine.
As Mason came around the side of the house, he spotted the hulking shape of a car sitting under a tarp. Hunched over, he ducked through the shadows and made his way closer. He laid a hand on the hood, finding that the engine was still warm. The car must not have been sitting for very long. The broken taillight he discovered when he rounded the trunk of the car had his heart jumping up in his throat. Some part of him already knew this was the right place.
Mason crept back towards the back of the house, pausing periodically to make sure no new sounds escaped his attention. Even in the dark, he could tell the back porch canted to the side and was dilapidated. As he grew closer, he could see the shredded remnants of torn screens in the windows. Poking his head through one of the openings, he noticed the back door was boarded up with a bunch of two-by-fours.
Disappointed, Mason cautiously made his way around to the side of the cabin. There appeared to be only one window on the back of the cabin that might be large enough for him to climb through. It even looked like it was cracked open a bit. Stopping underneath, he strained to hear what might be happening inside. Try as he might, he couldn’t hear Olivia.
He took a moment to inspect the window a little more closely. It was high enough up that he’d probably make a lot of noise trying to gain access through it. He continued to make his way around towards the front of the cabin and tried to get the lay of the land as he went, knowing it would be better to consider all his options before committing to anything drastic. Even then, he realized that if Olivia was actually inside, he was probably going to have to storm the cabin.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Robert stood and listened at the door for a moment until he heard Olivia start the water in the shower. Part of him wanted to walk in on her and see what she was really up to. Did she really think that line about mystery was going to fool him?
He’d learned a long time ago never to trust the words coming out of a woman’s mouth.
Still, it was good to finally have her with him.
He headed into the living room. All the photos he’d taken of her over the past few weeks were tacked up on the walls, covering the entire surface area. Olivia cooking, Olivia talking, Olivia with her sisters, Olivia smiling…he’d carefully curated her day-to-day life.
He hated the fact that he felt nervous now that she was there with him. Methodically, he began to straighten all the images of her, making sure they were just right and in their proper place.
After finishing his task, he sat and eased back onto the couch. Letting his hand stray to his crotch, he idly rubbed himself, momentarily easing the discomfort she’d caused him.
He looked down the hall towards the bathroom door. She’d better come out soon, or he was going to start getting angry. Impatiently, he grabbed the remote sitting on the table in front of him, deciding to give her a few more moments before knocking the door in.
He clicked the television on, happy to find the local news reporting on the weather, and watched as the slim blonde woman spoke of another storm coming in. Glancing out the window, he could see flakes had already started to float by the window.
Good, he thought. Though the cabin was remote, it would make it less likely they’d be able to get to him, even if they did find it. Just then, the news segment changed. He watched as a photo of Olivia came across the screen. The anchorwoman began to report on a missing woman abducted from Bath, Maine and thought to be in the Penobscot Bay area.
Robert cursed as they switched to a copy of his mugshot. It’s okay, everything is under control. He always knew they’d find a way to tie him to the area. Granted, it had happened a little faster than he would have liked. He wondered where he had slipped up.
Frustrated with the newscast, Robert quickly shut the TV off and glanced over at the closed door. What was taking her so long? He stood up and walked back towards the bathroom.
Chapter Fifty
Having dashed the tear
s from her eyes, Olivia scanned the bathroom. The cheap off-white vanity had begun to yellow and the sink was lined in rust stains. A dingy, puke green shower curtain hung slightly askew on its rod. Poking her head behind the curtain, she noticed the shower itself was little bigger than a closet.
There was only one disappointingly small window located just above the toilet. Walking towards it, she noticed that the latch had been painted over and knew the window wouldn’t open. It didn’t really matter. No way would she be able to fit through that.
Olivia quickly rushed to the shower and turned it on, hoping it would mask any sounds he might hear. With urgent, methodical purpose, she checked through the medicine cabinet and under the sink. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Dammit! Not even a handy toilet brush or plunger she could use as a weapon, just a threadbare cotton towel and a sliver of soap. What was she going to do?
Panic, never far from the surface, once again threatened to bubble up inside of her. Ruthlessly, she shoved it down. Staring at herself in the mirror, she forced herself to think.
Okay, so she wasn’t going to be able to escape or help herself from the bathroom. She had to have faith that Mason would be coming for her. Surely, people would have realized she’s disappeared by now.
Her best option, if she couldn’t find a way to escape, was going to be to stall. With that conclusion, she quickly ducked under the showerhead and dampened her hair. Olivia ran her hands through her now wet hair and shivered with cold.
Goose bumps pebbled her skin and she could see the distinct outline of her nipples through the thin fabric that barely covered her. She’d give just about anything to have her t-shirt and jeans on instead of the chintzy negligee he’d left her with.
After taking one last deep breath, she opened the bathroom door. Letting out an involuntary squeak, she quickly took a step back, startled to find Robert right outside the door. He leered down at her, focusing on the way her breasts were thrust upward. “I was just about to come in after you.”
Giving him her most brilliant smile, she barely resisted the urge to cross her arms across her chest. “No need, I was just coming out…but, I have to tell you, I’m famished.”
Olivia looked up at Robert and watched his suspicious expression morph into desire. Hmm, maybe the smile was a little too much, she thought.
He lifted his hand and ran his fingers through her damp strands. She fought to stand there and not take a step back. Instead, she gave him a puzzled look. “Robert? Did you hear me? I haven’t eaten all day.”
As if coming out of a trance, he shook his head and focused on her face. “What’s that? Oh, of course. You must be starving.” His eyes drifted down her throat as he began to stroke the contours of her collar bone.
Olivia stood, frozen for a split second, unsure of how to proceed. If she encouraged him too much, he might try to take things further than she was willing to go. At that point, she’d have no choice but to drop the charade and attempt to fight him off.
However, if she didn’t convince him to lower his guard, she’d never have an opportunity to make her escape. Hoping to walk that thin line, she stepped towards him. “Y’know, I am a chef. Why don’t I make us a nice dinner?” She placed her hand gently on his arm and looked up into his eyes. “It could be romantic.”
Robert’s eyes turned hot and he bent down to nuzzle her neck. “You stir my appetite in more ways than one.”
Barely able to control her shudder, she pulled back. “Well, let’s see what you have in the kitchen, then.” She gave him a limp smile and tried to skirt around him, but stopped when he reached up and gripped her arm tightly.
His fingers dug painfully into the flesh of her upper arm. “You better not be trying anything. I guarantee you won’t like the way I discipline you.”
Olivia stared up at him with wide eyes. She had thought she was succeeding at lulling him into trusting her, but his moods were so mercurial that it was hard to keep up.
He leaned into her face. “I will deal with any cutting. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how handy you can be with kitchen knives.”
A small ember of hope in Olivia’s breast fluttered and guttered out. The possibility had been so remote that she hadn’t even admitted it to herself, but the knives had been floating in the back of her mind all the same.
Gulping, she nodded up at him. “O-o-okay, Robert. I just wanted to make us a nice meal. I’m so hungry!”
Almost as if a switch had been flipped, the hand that had been gripping her on her shoulder, gentled, and he kissed her on the temple. “Well, then let’s go make you some dinner.”
Moments later, Olivia grimaced as she took a look in his refrigerator. There wasn’t a lot to work with. “Hm, I’m not sure what I’ll be able to do with these ingredients,” she muttered, half to herself.
He scowled. “We could always skip dinner.”
Not willing to give up that easily, she stood and opened the cupboards. It felt like she was in some reality cooking show, trying to see what she can make from a bunch of disparate items. “Oh, come on, now. What’s the fun in that?” She pulled a can of spam down from the shelf and placed it on the counter, along with a pack of ramen noodles.
“Do you have any veggies?”
Robert stood leaning against the counter, following her progress with his eyes. Now he pointed with his chin at another cupboard. “There might be a can of something in there. I don’t usually eat them.”
Nodding, she reached up and found a dusty, old can of green beans. “How old are these?”
He shrugged. “Probably left over from my grandfather.”
“This used to be your grandfather’s cabin?”
Not answering, Robert just looked at her. Deciding she should stay busy, she started opening drawers and looking for a can opener.
“I’ll do that,” he grabbed the can out of her hand and gave her a warning look. Instantly she shot him her best, innocent smile. “Great.”
Olivia decided she’d make a simple ramen dish with the spam and green beans. It wouldn’t be her best meal ever, but maybe it would give her a little more time to stall him.
After some digging, she found a couple of pieces of beat-up and mismatched cookware. The stove was an old electric one and there was a crusty ring of grime along the edges. With a bit of experimenting, she discovered only one out of the four burners worked, and placed the pot of water on the burner first. Robert handed her the opened can of green beans, then again leaned back against the counter.
Trying not to let him make her any more nervous than she already was, she cracked open the ramen package and tapped the flavor packet into the water. As she waited for the water to heat to a boil, she popped open the can of Spam.
Casually, she grabbed the cutting board from the lower cupboard, but before she could go for the knife in the drawer beside her, Robert grabbed her wrist. “Don’t push me, Olivia.”
Pretending that she was going to ask him all along, she waved her hand. “Will you dice this for me?”
It took him another long beat before he nodded and bent his head to the task. She was a little surprised, and disturbed, by the deft way he handled the knife.
After checking the water, she cracked the ramen noodles and tossed them in. “Should we put these in the water, too?” Robert asked her.
“Um, no, I’m going to cook the noodles first, then fry them in the pan. Figured we could make a stir-fry out of them.”
She checked the clock above the stove and was relieved to find ten minutes had already passed. She knew it probably wouldn’t take much longer to prepare the meal. If she was lucky, she’d be able to stall for, at most, another forty-five minutes. Come on, Mason, where are you?
As she finished preparing the meal, he began to pace back and forth in the kitchen. She could tell he was already impatient with playing house and cast him a look from the side of her eye, trying to gauge his emotion.
Just as she was tossing the spam into the noodles, Robert suddenly turned to her, grabbe
d the pan, and tossed it across the room. Gasping, Olivia stepped back at the look of fury on his face.
He stalked towards her and gripped her arms. “Don’t you think I know what you’re doing?” He shook her until she could feel her brain rattle.
Yanking her up against him, he crushed his mouth down on hers, his teeth splitting her bottom lip with the force. Yelping in pain, Olivia began to struggle in earnest, turning her head away as he bent to lick the blood from her lips.
With a sound of disgust, he frog-marched her out into the living room as she stubbornly ground her heels in and fought him every inch of the way. With her first glimpse of the room, she froze in disturbed silence. Everywhere she looked, her own image stared back at her. Spinning around, she was dismayed to find all three walls covered from floor to ceiling.
Horrified, she turned to watch as Robert walked up to one of the images and traced her face with his finger. There she was, illuminated from behind, standing at the sink in her kitchen window.
Dread filled her stomach. She’d had no idea he had been there. Turning, she looked at another photo closer to her. She was sitting in her car and obviously singing along to the radio. He must have been in the car right beside her, sitting at a stoplight when he’d taken it. She noticed a number of them had been cut out where Mason must have been standing. Where he couldn’t separate their images, he’d scratched Mason’s face out, as if trying to delete him from existence.
Robert turned to gauge her reaction. She could see the glow of pride in his eyes and struggled not to show her own revulsion and fear at seeing herself in so many photos.
“What do you think?”
She started to open her mouth to respond, but something in her expression must have shown how she truly felt, because next thing she knew, his fist flew up and slammed into her jaw.
With a cry, Olivia fell to the ground. A high pitched ringing filled her ears as she struggled to get up to her hands and knees. Robert bent down and grabbed her by her hair, lifting her back on her feet like a marionette.