Vanessa rattled off the cabin’s address. Then, after some thanks and more urgings to do their best not to frighten the girls or Debbi, Vanessa ended the call, stowed the phone and cleared her throat, erasing some, but not all, of the pain from her voice.
“I had to shoot high to avoid hitting your rear spoiler.” Vanessa turned her attention quickly to the men shooting at them from behind, and was now scooting into the window, shotgun in hand. “Do you think you can swerve right a tick when I say now?”
Eric quickly assessed the terrain, impressed at how quickly she’d swallowed her emotions and switched her focus to deal with the issue at hand. But then, she’d probably learned that skill in captivity—trying to balance the demands of her captor with the needs of her children. It was a learning experience he wouldn’t wish on anyone, but it had given her a skill set that rose to the challenge before them now.
“Eric?” Vanessa prompted, the gun ready in her hands.
Time for him to focus on the moment, to rise to the challenge before them. The road was four lanes wide, and traffic was thin at this hour of night. “No problem.”
“Now.”
He swerved.
She shot.
SIX
Framed by his rearview mirror, the Land Rover behind them behaved as though it had hit something, swerving wildly and stuttering to a stop. “You took out their tire!” Eric announced as Vanessa slid back into her seat. Joy and relief surged through him, as well as admiration for his old friend. The Vanessa he’d known long ago could have easily made that shot, but to make it after eight years of being locked away... She was a survivor, wasn’t she? He’d long ago had a crush on her, but now something more was added to that, a more mature kind of love. He admired her and was proud of her.
“Thank God.” She sighed with relief and buckled her seat belt again.
“Yes, thank God,” Eric echoed, curious now how much she meant the words. Vanessa had been through a horrible ordeal. Had she retained her faith? His had been shaken by her disappearance, though he’d realized after an angry couple of years that if Vanessa was still alive, he needed God to watch over her, and he’d started going to church every week to pray for her.
But for right now, they had so many more pressing things to discuss. With the Land Rover fading quickly from sight, Eric turned his attention to the question that had been burning inside him since the moment Vanessa peeked her head out the office-building door. “You found evidence?”
“On Jeff’s browser history. I brought the computer, plus these pages from his file cabinet.” She held up a sheaf of papers he hadn’t noticed before. “They’re ledgers with source codes. The numbers are big. They demonstrate that a lot of money was involved. Between the two of them, we’ve got enough to show there was a huge crime ring, even identify some of the conspirators. Now, whether we can figure out who was behind it, I don’t know. I think that guy who was with Jeff is his boss, but I don’t know who he is. His voice sounded vaguely familiar. I just can’t place it.”
“I tried to take pictures of them as they went inside.” Eric wished he had something more helpful to tell her. “But it was dark out, and with no flash, who knows if we’ll get anything. They were standing under that security light—”
“It was a very bright security light.” Vanessa sounded wistfully hopeful, but her optimism was distinctly guarded. “Thank you for taking the pictures. Can I see?”
Eric handed her the phone and she scrolled through the pictures. “They’re so blurry. It’s hard to see in the dark. Maybe with a full-size screen, indoors—”
“We can upload them to a computer. I have the download cable in my glove box.”
“Where do we want to do that?” Vanessa made a hiccuping sound.
Eric feared she was already regretting the phone call she’d placed, which might have serious repercussions. Hopefully, her children were safe. For now. But would the authorities allow her to see them again, or would they believe she was a murderer and lock her away? “I’m sorry that we had to call the sheriff’s office.”
Vanessa sniffled, and Eric glanced at her, afraid she was going to break into tears.
But she composed herself. “It’s for the best. I couldn’t keep them safe, alone.” Her voice broke.
“You did an amazing job.”
“If you hadn’t been there—” Vanessa shook her head, as though denying his claim “—I’d be asleep at the cabin with my girls right now, with those men on their way. I’d have no idea.”
Eric reached over and took her hand, felt a connection he’d only dared to hope he might feel. She gave his palm a slight squeeze. Did she feel it, too? He hoped so. Prayed so. Because now that she was back in his life, he didn’t want to let go. “It’s okay. I was there. The authorities are going to get Debbi and the girls out. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Is it?”
Much as he wished he could offer her some proof, Eric didn’t honestly know. How fast would Virgil’s men arrive at the cabin? They had to change a flat tire, but how long would that take? Would the sheriff’s deputies get to Debbi and the girls in time? And then, would the authorities believe her story? Would Vanessa’s evidence be enough? And—most important—would they be able to figure out who was really behind the crime ring? If they couldn’t cut off the head, chopping off an arm would only anger the monster. He didn’t know a great deal about criminals, but could guess that much for certain.
Vanessa cleared her throat. “I’m so sorry for dragging you and Debbi into this.”
“We’re glad to help.”
“You can’t be.” She made a sound that was almost laughter, though it was weighed down by heavy emotion.
“I am,” he insisted, squeezing the hand he still held. “When you disappeared, I vowed to do anything and everything. I knocked on doors, hung up posters. Raged at the world. Remember that old gnarled tree in the woods?”
“Our monster?”
“I chopped it down with an ax.”
“You left it dead?” She quoted the poem again. This time her attempt at laughter sounded a little lighter, tinged by hope.
“I wanted to slay the monster that took you. I prayed God would give me the chance. One chance to storm the castle and bring you back, if only He’d show me where you were.” Eric cleared his throat, realizing how dramatic his words probably sounded, even if they were all completely true. “And now you’re here. And I’m glad. I’m glad to help.”
Vanessa said nothing, but pulled her hand free of his. Eric glanced away from the road just long enough to see her wipe away tears.
“Vanessa?”
“I’m okay. It’s okay.” She composed herself. “I just wish I’d known...before I went with Jeff.”
Her voice faded to almost nothing, but Eric still heard her. He heard, too, what she’d left unspoken. She’d gone with the kidnapper because Jeff had treated her as if she was someone special, as if she was beautiful. Maybe if Eric had figured out how to tell Vanessa how he’d felt about her before she met Jeff, the kidnapper wouldn’t have found such an easy target.
Eric had failed her. Worse than that, looking back now, he distinctly remembered things he’d said, negative comments he’d made to her in an effort to disguise how he really felt. Even the day he’d dressed up as the highwayman, he’d treated it like a joke rather than confess his feelings. Who was he to think he could defeat that monster? He’d practically shoved her into Jeff’s arms.
If she hadn’t needed his help tonight, she probably wouldn’t even speak to him. He wouldn’t blame her. “Where do you want to go next? To the county sheriff’s office, to see your girls?”
Vanessa let out a thoughtful breath. “I don’t think I’m ready to go to the sheriff’s office, not yet, not until I know the evidence I’ve gathered is enough to defend my innocence. If I walk in th
ere unprepared, I might not get the chance to walk out.”
“So, where do you want to go? We’ll need to upload the pictures from my phone, plug in the computer... Do you want to go to my house?”
“The cabin is a lot closer. I need to make sure my girls got out okay.”
“But Virgil—”
“We’re ahead of him. We know we’re ahead of him now. Besides, when Virgil’s boss asked him about the cabin, he said he hadn’t checked it yet because he didn’t know where it is.”
“He can get the address from public record, probably find it online. GPS will do the rest. It won’t take long.”
“And they have to change a flat tire. We have time to look at the evidence I’ve gathered, to decide if we have enough to prove my innocence.”
“And if we don’t?”
“I’ll make that decision once I see what we’ve got.”
“At the cabin,” Eric concluded, pressing his foot a little harder on the accelerator. “We can go there, make sure the girls got out okay, view the pictures. I know the fastest way to get there that saves a good ten minutes off the fastest route any GPS will recommend. I don’t know how long it’s going to take them to change that tire, but I don’t want to find out.”
For the next few minutes, he tried to focus on driving, on getting to the cabin as quickly as possible. But focusing on anything other than the woman beside him was extremely difficult. He still didn’t see how they were going to get through the night—evading both the human-trafficking ring and the police.
Then a ringing sound cut through the silence. The phone Vanessa had used earlier to call the police lit up with an incoming call. Vanessa looked at the screen and swallowed hard. “It’s the county sheriff’s office—they’re calling me back.”
“I guess you should answer it.”
“I guess so.” Vanessa’s voice trembled, but she answered the ringing phone.
Eric wished he could hear the other side of the conversation, but he was able to gather quite a bit by what Vanessa said.
“They weren’t too scared? Good. Thank you, I appreciate that.” Her voice hitched, and when Eric glanced her way, he saw strain on her face. “Yes. What Debbi has told you is all true. I have evidence. A computer and some files. We were headed for the cabin.” She paused, and her voice became quieter, more reluctant. “We’ll meet you there.” She closed the call.
“The sheriff’s office is sending someone to meet us at the cabin?” Eric guessed.
“Yes. Two deputies. They want to have a look at the evidence we gathered.”
Eric felt a mixture of anxiety and relief. He knew Vanessa was risking a lot by meeting with the deputies, but he couldn’t help feeling slightly safer knowing armed officers of the law would be there, when and if Virgil and his men showed up. The trick, of course, would be convincing the police that Vanessa wasn’t a murderer—and getting them on their side before the real murderers arrived.
Taking back roads and driving quickly, Eric arrived at the cabin to discover a county sheriff’s vehicle parked outside.
Vanessa grabbed the evidence she’d gathered and gave him a quick, frightened look. But then, with not a moment to waste, she hopped from the vehicle and hurried toward the cabin, clutching the CPU to her chest.
* * *
Knowing they wouldn’t have much time before Virgil and the other thugs showed up, Vanessa forced herself to run toward the cabin’s front door, instead of away from it. Somehow, knowing the deputies were probably waiting on the other side was even more terrifying than facing the shotgun Eric had held—probably because she knew Eric and trusted him deep down, on a level she hadn’t trusted anyone in a long time. And Jeff had made terrible claims about what would happen if she ever tried to go to the authorities—of how he’d counter her story, offer lies and fabricated evidence as proof, how he’d get custody of their children and leave her to rot in jail.
But Jeff was dead now.
She burst in the front door to find two uniformed officers waiting for her. A woman who appeared to be in her mid-forties stood by the kitchen counter, and a younger man stood from the couch as she stepped inside.
“I’m Vanessa Jackson,” she announced. The sweet relief of using her own name after so many years helped to ease her fear.
The younger officer approached her. His name badge said Perez. He asked Vanessa, “Do you have any identification?”
“No. Everything was taken from me.” She realized as she spoke the words how true they were. Jeff had taken everything—her innocence, her identity, her instinct to trust others. Even now, she wondered if the deputies would believe her and try to help her or keep her girls from her and lock her away, just as Jeff had threatened.
“The incident earlier this evening in a Chicago suburb...” Officer Perez began.
Vanessa gulped a breath, trying to think how best to begin her defense. Jeff had hated every word she’d ever used to defend herself, had beat her into submission until she only stood up for her kids, never for herself. She’d take any beating if it meant protecting her kids. Now the words froze in her throat, her shoulders tensing instinctively to resist the blows.
She couldn’t speak.
Eric stomped on the rug behind her as he entered. He voiced her defense, relaying everything just as she’d told him. “Virgil Greenwood, the man in the news broadcast who claimed he discovered the body—he didn’t discover it. He murdered the man. Vanessa drove away to keep the kids safe. She was kidnapped eight years ago by this human-trafficking ring. She has evidence.”
To Vanessa’s relief, Perez didn’t look overly skeptical at the news. Instead his eyebrows went up in a curious, open expression as he reached for the CPU.
“We’d like to see the evidence.” He held out his hands, his expression guarded, cautious.
Would he really believe them? Vanessa didn’t have time to worry about it. If Virgil and his men were on their way, she had to earn the trust of the police quickly.
As Vanessa handed over the CPU, the officer told her, “I remember when you went missing. I always thought, with you working at a restaurant near the interstate, somebody probably took you and drove away. Debbi, the woman who was here with the girls, filled us in a little on your story.”
“And my girls are—”
“They’re with child protective services. They’re trained in helping kids in difficult times. They’re safe.”
Vanessa tried to smile, to show her appreciation that he was willing to hear her side of the story and maybe even help, but at the same time, it was so hard hearing that her daughters were in protective custody. Would she get them back? Only if she could prove her innocence.
But first, the deputy had another question. “According to the news report, you also have a son. Where is he?”
“I left him with my twin sister, Alyssa.”
The officer nodded, looking down at the CPU in his hands as though trying to decide what to do with it.
Eric stepped past him. “We can hook that up to my laptop. Just let me grab it.” He bounded up the stairs two at a time.
“We need to hurry,” Vanessa explained. “The men who killed Jeff are on their way here—that’s why I needed to get the girls to safety.”
“How do you know they’re coming here?”
While Eric connected the CPU to the laptop, Vanessa explained briefly about what she’d overheard, including her suspicions about the real head of the monster. “Virgil Greenwood may have pulled the trigger, but he’s not the head of the crime ring.”
“Do you know who is?” The female deputy had been hovering, listening to Vanessa’s story.
“It’s a man.” Vanessa explained what she knew. “I’ve heard his voice. I recognize it but can’t quite place it.”
Eric finished connecting the computers and now hel
d out his phone and the download cable. “I saw the man and took a couple of pictures, but it was dark out. I don’t know what we’ll get.”
“Let’s see them.”
Eric connected the phone to the laptop.
Vanessa watched him work, her heart swelling with gratitude for all Eric had done to help her—especially his willingness to take her side and explain things when words failed her. After everything Jeff had put her through, her heart warred against the thought of trusting anyone, especially a man. But Eric was so completely different from Jeff.
Years before, she’d wished Eric cared for her the way she cared for him. But maybe he had. Maybe he still did. At the thought, her heart yearned with a depth of longing that surprised her. Did she want Eric to care for her? On the one hand, all she’d been through with Jeff made her wary. But Eric was so very different from Jeff. Helpful instead of hurtful. Tender instead of terrifying. He was everything she’d longed for all these years, everything Jeff wasn’t.
There wasn’t time to dwell on the difference. The pictures started uploading from the camera on Eric’s phone. One blurry image filled the screen, then another, the outlined figures of men smeared across the front of the building.
“It was too dark.” Deputy Perez shook his head regretfully. “With no flash, it increases the exposure time. You have to hold perfectly still—”
But as he spoke, a clearer image filled the screen—this one with one face pointed directly at the camera, unobstructed by the other man.
Vanessa sucked in a sharp breath. “Arthur Sherman.”
“Arthur Sherman,” Eric repeated. “Isn’t he the guy who owns the Flaming Pheasant restaurant chain?”
Perez turned to Vanessa. “Does he fit the voice you recognized?”
“Yes.” Vanessa pinched her eyes shut against the flood of memories. “That’s why I recognized his voice—oh, my!”
“What?” Eric sounded concerned and took a step closer to her.
Twin Threat Christmas Page 6
