Souls Estranged (The Souls Trilogy Book 2)

by Anne B. Cole

  A flash of terror ran through her veins.

  “Gretta?” Ryan had stopped the truck in front of the police station.

  She had heard him, but didn’t respond.

  He leaned closer. “You okay?”

  A police cruiser parked beside them.

  Ryan straightened in his seat and opened his door. He waved to the cop, who sat staring at them.

  “Do you have any sisters?” Gretta asked as they headed to the building.

  “Nope. One brother. Chuck is twenty-one, and I’m not letting him anywhere near you. I don’t think he could handle a ‘little sister relationship.’” He chuckled and held the door open.

  She followed him through a small corridor to a tiny room with computers on one wall and filing cabinets on the other.

  Ryan appeared to be well-known and liked by the people at this department. Again, Gretta saw the frowns and disapproving stares aimed in her direction. They all probably knew Rachel.

  Ryan offered her a chair. He took a seat in front of a computer. He quickly logged on and ran the plates. The partial plate had several possible owners. The van she saw at the restaurant was registered to a small dry cleaner business based out of Knoxville.

  “Nothing, right?” Relief warred with disappointment.

  “Looks innocent enough. I’ll check into it more, later. Time to get you home.” He thanked the officer at the desk after logging off.

  Neither spoke during the short drive back to the library. Ryan appeared to be lost in thought. When he stopped the truck near her car, Gretta grabbed the door handle.

  “Thanks for lunch and for keeping an eye on the cabin.”

  Ryan got out and followed her to her car, which she unlocked. He opened the door for her and she slid behind the wheel. He held the door open when she went to close it. “I’m working a case, one with ties to your mountain.”

  “Do you think the white van has anything to do with it?” Gretta noted the way his lips pressed firmly together. He leaned against her car door.

  “I hope not. In each of the past three summers, a woman has gone missing from the tri-county area. The first one police never found, but the other two surfaced in the New River weeks after their disappearances. No one saw a thing. Other than the two bodies, we have no evidence and no leads. The killer is a very sick, very smart guy. I’ve been researching the case for the past year, on and off duty.”

  “You do your research in this library?” Gretta had wondered what brought him there.

  Ryan nodded gravely. “I’m working with the feds and won’t use the department’s computers in case we’re looking for someone within the system.” He paused and shifted his weight. “Gretta, I don’t want you at the cabin alone. This guy could be anyone, someone you know. Someone you trust.”

  Gretta didn’t know anyone in the area except for the few church members the Glenns had introduced her to. They were in their eighties. The only other person she knew was Ryan.

  “I’ll be careful. I promise. If anything happens, out of the ordinary, I’ll call. The only vehicles passing the cabin this week were cop cars. The codes have been changed. I feel perfectly safe knowing you’re a phone call away.” Gretta smiled, determined not to show her anxiety.

  “Minutes away.” He leaned closer. Her heart pounded in her chest. The last time he was this close they had kissed. She had to keep him safe. Gretta stretched and kissed his cheek.

  Ryan frowned and held her firmly by the arm. “Maybe you should stay with my mom this summer. I can take you to check on the cabin every day. You can have my old room. Chuck lives in Charleston. Mom would love the company.”

  “I can’t.” Gretta panicked. No way was she going to endanger his family. “I’ll be fine. You and half the sheriff’s department drive by every day. I’m good, honest.” She clutched the wheel with trembling hands.

  “I’m concerned. Big brother concerned, nothing more.” The tenderness in his words touched her.

  “I know you’re looking out for me—”

  “The cabin is pretty far away, and I can’t be in two places at once.”

  The meaning behind his words suddenly dawned on her. “You’re keeping an eye on Rachel?”

  Ryan sighed and nodded once. “It would be a hell of a lot easier if you stayed with Mom. I know she wouldn’t mind—”

  “Rachel would mind, big time. You need to call her, be honest, and open to possibilities.” Gretta wanted him to be happy. And safe.

  “I’m off until tomorrow night, but I’ll still drive by. Promise me you’ll be careful.” Ryan’s face crinkled with concern.

  “Promise me you’ll call Rachel and tell her why you’re not ready to get married. She’ll stick around if you explain.”

  She turned the key in the ignition.

  Ryan closed the door. She rolled down the window, and he leaned in. “I’m following you home.”

  He wasn’t asking permission, so she didn’t bother arguing.

  Back at the cabin, she thought it was silly for him to drive the distance, but felt relieved as he made a sweep of the grounds.

  “Everything’s good.” Ryan paused on the porch.

  “Go home and get some sleep, big bro. I’ll leave the light on for you.” Gretta saw her notebook sticking out of her bag. Memories compelled her to write.

  He tousled her hair. “Call me.”

  “Call Rachel.”

  Ryan’s shoulders slumped slightly before he nodded and climbed into his truck.

  Gretta waved from the porch as he backed out of the drive. She grabbed her notebook to jot more memories. As she finished the last entry, crickets chirped and lightning bugs glowed. She locked the porch and the main door, before setting the alarm. She flipped the kitchen light on and headed upstairs with her phone and library book. She didn’t get past the first chapter before she dozed off.

  A vehicle slowly drove by, waking her from a half slumber. Ryan’s keeping an eye on me.

  She flipped her pillow and fell asleep.

  Killer

  He parked the van a short distance from the driveway and rotated a knob on the monitor in his hands. Her bedroom came into focus. He flipped the switch until the cramped, dim-lit basement appeared on the screen. His heart began to race with excitement.

  What an unexpected change of plans. So many options. Gretta, you act so brave and independent, but I know you’re afraid, as you should be. At first, I hated you in my home. You disrupted my summer plans. Now, I see how you fit in perfectly. Preparations must be made. I have the power to make you feel safe. The fun begins when I take your security away, little by little.

  Your mind will begin to wander until you question your sanity. I’ve felt the same way before. Never again. I know what I am, and what I must do.

  Chapter 38

  Eight Weeks Later

  Gretta

  The heavy belt sliced into Gretta’s shoulders, forcing her cheek into the hard dirt floor. It hurt worse than the first blow. She knew he would strike a third and final time.

  She cringed, unable to breathe. The next lashing would sear her lower back. Angry and drunk, Victor cracked the belt into her skin, harder than the previous blows.

  She started to shake, not from the pain, but from what was going to happen next.

  He cursed Anya, Lorenzo, and the ring. She pressed her face deeper into the cool dirt. He had finished hurting her. Victor could no longer inflict pain because the pirate would stab him with a sword.

  Victor’s full weight crushed her. Suddenly, it lifted off. She struggled to get up in an attempt to run away before the pirate could touch her. Stumbling twice, she raced to the door, but found it locked. She should have gone to the window.

  Knowing how the dream would continue, she knew she must take control.r />
  Gretta bravely faced the pirate, Kadir Haty. He touched her cheek with a single ringed finger. She slapped him and raked her nails across his ugly face.

  Not a scratch appeared.

  “You can’t change the past.” He laughed, grabbed her hands, and bound them with rope. Wincing in pain, she kicked at him. The pirate snickered as she struggled. She swallowed hard when his lips pressed against hers.

  Pushing him away, she heard her dress tear before he threw her to the ground. Her head thudded against the hard dirt floor.

  Gretta knew she was dreaming, and this time, she willed herself to neither pass out nor wake up. She had lived through this attack when she was entwined within Anya and had blocked out what had happened next.

  She remembered telling Sam and Roxana that Kadir didn’t rape Anya. But something deep within created a sick doubt.

  Kadir straddled her. Terrified of him, of what he wanted to do, she continued to struggle. The pirate slammed her shoulders to the ground. Her head snapped backward.

  This had been when Anya blacked out.

  Refusing to be consumed by the darkness, Gretta forced a knee to his groin with all her might.

  Kadir pulled away. He gazed at Anya's still body, blinked a few times in bewilderment, and began to loosen his breeches.

  Determined to get him off Anya’s lifeless body, Gretta kicked and wriggled from within. Movement from a window caused his head to turn.

  A man with curly black hair drew Kadir away from her face with a vicious jerk.

  She knew a jeweled handled blade would cut his throat. The pirate’s body jolted. Kadir Haty’s black eyes lost focus as blood spurted from the gash in his neck.

  Gretta threw her arms up to shield her face. Her surroundings darkened. Kadir no longer straddled her. Shadows inside the loft of the cabin danced with the wind.

  It’s only a dream. Or is it a memory?

  This particular dream had haunted her nearly every night. Each time, she woke up at the moment when Anya had been knocked unconscious. The shock of witnessing the pirate bleeding to death inches from her face prevented her from remembering what had happened.

  Relief waved through her entire body. Gretta had let the dream continue, and Anya had not been raped. At least, not in this dream.

  Swiping her face with the back of her hand, she became more aware of reality. She sat in the cabin loft, alone, on the floor, and covered in sweat, not blood. Trembling, she dragged herself back into bed.

  It’s only a dream.

  Pulling the covers around her, she curled into a ball.

  A dream or a memory?

  An hour had passed. She tossed and turned, unable to fall back to sleep. Throwing the covers aside, she flipped the light switch and grabbed her notebook. It took several attempts before she regained control of her shaky hands. Tears soaked her face as she wrote paragraph after paragraph, describing the attack.

  A soft thud downstairs froze her entire being. Gretta switched off the light. Her heart pounded as she recalled the memory of hearing Victor searching for the ring in the back room. Quickly she jotted the words ‘back room’ into the notebook even though she could barely see.

  Another, louder noise sounded.

  That is not my imagination.

  She grabbed a baseball bat from under her bed. She had found it in the shed and thought it best to keep it with her at night. With her summer job nearly complete, this happened to be the first time she reached for the bat to use as a weapon.

  She snatched the cell phone off the bedside table and pulled up Ryan’s number as she tiptoed down the stairs. Without turning on a light, she snuck into the living room and crawled behind the couch. From there, she could see both the porch door and the kitchen.

  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

  As her shoulders relaxed, movement from the window facing the porch caught her attention.

  The alarm would go off if someone entered through the cabin door. But she couldn’t remember if she set the alarm before going to bed. Nothing had happened in the past seven weeks, and a few mornings she had awakened to find she had neglected to set the alarm the previous evening.

  Gripping the bat tighter, she heard another thump on the porch. She dropped the phone and took the bat in both hands as a shadow appeared low in the window. It disappeared. The screen door to the porch rattled softly.

  She ran to the kitchen, thinking she could escape through the window. At another rattle against the porch door, she held her breath and peeked at the intruder. A blur of gray and white in the window made her cry out.

  “Emeye.”

  Gretta ran to the door as the cat jumped off the back of the porch chair. The little cat had been locked in the porch, and was trying to get her attention.

  She disarmed the alarm and threw the door open. The cat scrambled in, rubbing her bare leg in a gesture of appreciation.

  “You scared me to death.” Gretta scooped the cat into her arms and held her until she wriggled free, jumping to the floor.

  The cat mewed and continued to rub her leg as she reactivated the alarm. She couldn’t remember if she fed Emeye last night, so she headed back to the kitchen and opened a can of tuna.

  Draining the water into a bowl, she set it on the floor. “Here you go, Emeye.”

  The clock chimed. Five o’clock, almost dawn. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, she dumped the tuna into a bowl and opened the fridge for ingredients to make tuna salad.

  A soft cry drew her attention to the pantry door.

  Yesterday she could have sworn she heard a muffled cry while standing in the kitchen. Barely audible, she thought it was a dove or a small ground animal outside. Hearing it a second time made her peer out the window. She scanned the yard, too dark to see anything.

  Could it have been the cat?

  Emeye often mewed when snoozing or being brushed. Gretta watched the cat lap the tuna water. She began to purr loudly.

  Shaking her head, she fixed the tuna salad and stuck it in the refrigerator. Emeye sat in the middle of the kitchen floor, licking her paw as she cleaned her face. Suddenly the cat froze, stared at the porch, and let out a soft growl.

  Gretta’s heart sped up as she heard a vehicle’s tires crunch the gravel road up the mountain. They spun into her driveway. She flipped off the kitchen light and fled to the living room, scooping up her phone and bat. She caught a glimpse through the window as a dark figure ran to the porch door.

  Sliding behind the couch, she pressed Ryan’s number, praying she was close enough to the porch to get a signal.

  Nothing.

  The porch’s screen door thudded twice before slamming the inside wall. Footsteps stormed across the wooden floor. A fist pounded on the solid door to the living room.

  Gretta crouched lower, remembering how Anya had hid behind a barrel and blindsided a pirate. The bat in her white-knuckled hands had the ability to inflict more injury than a misfiring gun and a bottle of whiskey, or at least she hoped so.

  The pounding continued. Gretta tightened her grip on the bat as she heard her name called out from behind the door. “Gretta!”

  “Ryan?”

  Chapter 39

  Secrets of the Cabin

  Gretta

  Leaping to her feet with a gasp, Gretta flung the door open, and found herself facing the barrel of Ryan’s Glock. He grabbed hold of her bicep and pulled her to his side, so tight she could barely breathe. After scanning the living room and kitchen, he released his grip.

  “You okay?” he demanded as he stuck his gun back in its holster.

  She nodded. Her lips quivered, unable to form words.

  “Sit.” He stepped inside and guided her forward.

  A ringtone pierced the air and startled them both
. On the second ring, he released his breath and lowered his gun.

  Gretta stood and retrieved the phone from the floor to read the display. The alarm service. She answered the phone, gave her password, and apologized for setting off the alarm. By the time she hung up, she felt ridiculous.

  Ryan removed the phone from her hands, closed the cabin door, and reset the alarm. He walked through the entire cabin before approaching her.

  “What happened? The cabin is secure. Well, at least it was before I broke the screen door.” A sheepish grin spread across his face.

  She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Emeye was trapped on the porch overnight. I woke up, hearing noises and thought someone was breaking in. When I saw the cat, I let her in and made tuna salad.”

  Ryan gave her a puzzled look.

  “She likes to drink the tuna water. Anyway, a car came up the drive and I heard someone busting through the porch door.” She’d been wringing her hands, and forced herself to stop.

  “If it was Emeye, why did you call? When I answered the phone, and you weren’t there—Gretta, you scared me to death.” He touched a shaky hand to her shoulder.

  “I’m okay.” She tried to convince them both, and obviously failed, because he remained tense. Which heightened her fright.

  After raking a hand through his hair, he took her by the shoulders. Protectiveness replaced worry in his expression. He pulled her into a fierce hug.

  She returned the embrace even though her heart ached for Sam. He hadn’t sent an email to her all summer. She still loved him, but had convinced herself that he had stopped loving her.