He took his foot from the brake. The car fishtailed from the yard. In the distance, the truck disappeared around the corner.
“You’re going to lose them.” Vicki leaned forward.
“No, I’m not.”
She eased back into the bucket seat. “God, River. How can this be happening? The killer’s dead. Detective Dauscher shot him. I thought Lenny and Becca were safe.”
“I know.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand it either.” He maneuvered around a car, moving closer to the truck. But not too close. He didn’t want to spook the driver and cause an accident. Reaching down, he pulled his cell phone from the holster at his waist and punched the autodial. “I do, however, know how we might get an advantage.”
Vicki frowned. “They’re getting on the bridge.”
After two rings, the line clicked. “Detective Dauscher.”
“Dauscher, it’s River. I need your help. Becca’s been kidnapped.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I know. Crazy.” He shot a glance toward Vicki and met her hopeful gaze. “I’m tailing a black Ford F-150. We’re coming off the bridge from Tybee.” He eased around another car, forced himself to hold back so as not to be noticed.
“What’s the tag,” his partner growled. “Maybe we can get a bead on this guy.”
He recited the number. “I doubt much will come from it. The truck’s probably stolen. Check and see if the owner’s reported it yet.”
“Will do.”
The taillights of the compact car ahead of them brightened, and the blinker flashed with golden brilliance just before the vehicle turned onto an intersecting street. River tapped the brakes. Damn it. Patience beyond frayed, he gripped the wheel.
He glared at the truck ahead of them. Still within sight. He could catch up easily enough. Then a thought whispered in his mind. “I think he’s heading for the highway. Heading south.”
“What makes you think that?” Doubt rang across the line.
“Just a hunch.” Uncertainty coated his words. He shook it off. “Where are you?”
“In my car.” Dauscher paused as though checking traffic. “I was heading to the grocery store when you called.”
“Can you hightail it over to 95 South instead?”
“Will do,” Dauscher replied and ended the call.
It didn’t take long before River realized his prediction was correct. He hung back, kept his headlights on low, and tailed the truck south on the interstate. Around fifteen miles later, Becca’s kidnapper took an exit ramp.
“Damn it,” River muttered.
Vicki looked at him. “What?”
“We’re the only ones on the ramp. He can spot us.” He slowed the car, eased over so it appeared they would turn right while the truck took a left, even flicked on the blinker for good measure.
“Why not just ram them?” Anger flared in her eyes, and she scowled at the truck where her friend sat captive. “Yank her out and arrest the bastard?”
“I don’t know if he has a weapon. He might shoot her before I could get her out.” The truck turned left, and River went right. In the Malibu’s rearview mirror, the F-150’s taillights disappeared around a bend.
“What are you doing?” Panic filled her voice, and she gave him a fierce stare. “You’re going to lose—”
“Hold on.” He jerked the wheel, fishtailing the car around so they faced the opposite direction on the narrow two-lane road.
Despite the seatbelt, Vicki slammed into the passenger door. As they shot beneath the interstate, she straightened in her seat. “Okay. So, you know what you’re doing. What’s next?”
“We find out where he’s taking her, call Dauscher, and bring in the cavalry.” He glanced over at her. The moon loomed above the trees, its pale light flickering through the windows as they sped along the road. Even amid the alternating light and shadow, hope and trust shone clear in her eyes. As he gazed out the windshield, in search of the truck, resolve solidified in his core. He couldn’t let her down.
From the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of red. The bastard had turned onto a dirt road. If they’d been any farther behind, River would’ve missed the taillight’s flare amid the tree trunks and substantial underbrush.
He pulled onto the grassy shoulder and hit the speed dial on his cell while Vicki twisted in her seat. She looked out the rear window, her lower lip caught between her teeth.
“Dauscher, it’s River,” he said after his partner answered. “We’re off the interstate, stopped on the side of the road.”
“Whereabouts?”
River gave him the exit number.
“I’m about fifteen behind you.”
“Good. After you exit, head east about three-quarters of a mile. You’ll see a dirt road. Our guy went down it, but I have no idea what’s at the other end. Could be a cabin. Could be a dock. Could be a damned helicopter pad for all I know.” He pressed his fingers to his forehead. If the kidnapper took her away in a boat or by some other means, River wouldn’t be able to follow. He’d lose her.
“I’ll call it in,” Dauscher replied, his tone gruff. “You stay put. I’ll be there in fifteen or less. We can go in together.”
River eased the car from the shoulder and made a U-turn. Fifteen minutes might be too late.
“River?” his partner growled over the line. “Damn it to hell. You’re going in, aren’t you?”
“I’m just driving down the road a ways. Get a feel for the situation.”
“Hey, you wait for me. You hear?”
“See you in fifteen.” River ended the call. The big guy would be pissed, but he’d get over it—especially once they rescued Becca and put the kidnapper behind bars.
When they neared the place where he’d seen the truck brake, he flicked off the Malibu’s headlights and turned onto the rutted road. The full moon offered enough brightness to navigate at a moderate speed, but he took it slow. He didn’t want to run up on the kidnapper and bring about the altercation before he was prepared.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Vicki’s question sliced the heavy silence that had mushroomed tension. “I just thought….”
“I know. I thought Becca and Lenny were safe, too.” He maneuvered the car over an exposed tree root followed by a deep rut and prayed the Malibu wouldn’t bottom out. “But don’t worry. We’ll find her. We’ve been winding through this mess for a good fifteen minutes. Much farther and we’ll hit the ocean.”
They bounced around a sharp curve, and River stomped the brakes. Just ahead in the moon’s dappled glow sat the black truck.
Vicki grabbed her purse, opened the passenger door, and slipped out before River could stop her.
“Damn it.” He cut the engine and pushed from the car, the cool night air rushing over him. The acrid scent of salt and rotting plants assaulted his nose, announcing the marsh lay nearby. He scrutinized the thick line of trees and caught a sparkle of moonlight on water not far from the road’s edge.
He pulled his gun from the holster beneath his jacket, the weight a deadly comfort in his hand. With a cursory scan of the area, he joined Vicki at the front of the car.
“Don’t even try to tell me to stay here,” she said, her voice a sharp whisper. She stared at him with fierce defiance as she looped the purse strap over her head so her bag lay across her body.
Well, hell.
“She’s the only one who knew the truth about me.” Her focus shifted to the truck, a silent behemoth in the darkness. “My parents didn’t even know. But Becca didn’t care that, at any moment, I might have some freaking vision about her. She stuck by me.” She turned back to him, pointed a finger. “So, you can just forget telling me to wait in the damn car.”
He straightened, met her fiery gaze head-on. God, he loved her. The strength running through the very depths of her being, the ability to push her fear aside and deal with the situation, the profound loyalty to her friend. Will I ever earn that allegiance from her?
“I wasn’t go
ing to tell you to wait in the damn car,” he shot back, each murmured word punctuated with a burst of smoky-white breath. With a quick jerk of the Glock’s slide, he chambered a round. The grating mechanical movements of metal on metal pierced the cool night air. He positioned the gun near his shoulder, held in the standard two-handed grip with the business end aimed at the treetops. “I was going to tell you to stay the hell behind me.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The truck was empty. River slid his hand across a corner of the hood, the metal warm beneath his fingertips. He scanned the surrounding area and almost missed the scrubby trail the kidnapper must have dragged Becca along. They can’t have gotten too far.
“Where are they?” Vicki moved next to him, her voice low.
He gestured at the path. “That way.”
A jagged cry split the night and terminated with an abruptness that sent chills crawling along his skin. Could it have been a night creature living in the area, perhaps one of those huge cranes that favored the marsh? Grimacing, he tightened his grip on the pistol. Damn, but it sure as hell sounded human. And it came from the direction the kidnapper took.
“Becca!” The whispered word ripped from Vicki’s throat as she rushed past him toward the path. She dived through the narrow opening afforded by the tangled growth and disappeared.
Damn it!
River tore through the brush, snapping twigs and shuddering branches announcing his arrival to anyone nearby. But stealth was the least of his concerns. Vicki’s decision to run in the direction of the scream might change an already tenuous situation into something volatile. He couldn’t let that happen.
Half a dozen yards down the trail, he grabbed her arm, yanking her up short. “What the hell?” he growled.
She stared at him, eyes wild with frenzy.
“We’ll get her.” River appreciated the loyalty to her friend, but they needed to be smart. He held up his gun for her to see. “Just let me do my job.”
“Sorry,” she whispered. Her focus drifted farther down the trail. “I just…I don’t know. Lost it.”
“I understand.” He released her arm and urged her to the side. “Just stay behind me.”
River pushed ahead, moving faster than he should have over the rutted path. In tandem, they skirted exposed roots and muddy puddles hindering their progress. A few yards later, the right side of the trail opened up to the edge of the marsh.
The ocean breeze swept over the reeds and tall grasses spanning from the bank, out to a wide, winding river, and moonlight played on the dancing tips of the thick vegetation. Chirps and croaks created a chorus, the song an ode to the moon while tree trunks creaked beneath the weight of the wind, their whispering needles and chaffing branches a soft applause to Mother Nature’s music. From the throat of some unseen creature, an eerie moan wafted into the night, crooning loneliness and longing. And in the distance, a tympani roll of thunder alluded to the fact nothing ever remained the same.
He lifted his eyes skyward in search of rain clouds but found the moon, bright and unencumbered, along with a smattering of glittering stars. If a storm approached, it lay on a horizon he couldn’t see.
“River.” Vicki’s breathy gasp drew his attention. She squeezed his shoulder then pointed toward a clearing ahead.
With the trail open to the marsh and moonbeams shining down like a spotlight, a sense of exposure compelled him to move into the shadows. The kidnapper might be at the end of the trail, and in order to rescue Becca, River wanted to remain undetected for as long as possible. While they crept along the edge of the path, he swiveled his head about, searching the shadows.
Stopping beneath a large oak, he dropped to one knee. Before Vicki could question, he yanked her down next to him. The clearing lay just ahead. He tensed, prepared for her attempted bolt.
“Oh my God.” Her whisper cracked with emotion. Her eyes rounded with fear. “It’s…it’s…I thought….”
After a quick scan of the area, he took her hand. “I know. It looks really similar.” Who am I kidding? Add a table and a few more candles, and it’s laid out just like the dining room where Vicki barely escaped becoming Kent’s next sacrifice.
A shudder rippled through her, and she moved closer to him—whether for warmth or protection, he didn’t know. “Becca?”
Her real question rang clear in the single word. Is her best friend still alive, or are we too late?
“Stay here.” He gave her hand a meaningful squeeze. Hunched over, he shuffled out into the open, his gun ready for use. As he moved forward, he turned in a slow pirouette, searching the shadows. His ears strained for the slightest hint of a sound that didn’t blend with the humming marsh.
Nothing moved. No shouts, no crazed attacks. No bullets whizzing past his head.
River knelt on the spongy ground. The marsh at his back, he faced the woods. To his right lay a secluded beach that might have been a prime location for a lovers’ tryst or place for bird watchers to take up residence.
In the center of the sandy spot, the kidnapper had deposited Becca, tethering her hands and feet to stakes hammered into the sand. Her feet bare and shirt sliced open, she lay on her back, motionless. Two dozen candles littered the area, their flames adding to the shifting shadows and River’s anxiety.
He glanced toward Vicki, who waited where he’d left her in the shadows beneath the tree. The thought of risking her life brought bile into his throat, but he couldn’t untie Becca and watch for the kidnapper at the same time. With a quick jerk of his hand, he waved her over.
She scurried from the shadows, rushed past him, her purse bumping the side of her thigh, and fell to her knees at her friend’s side. She laid fingers to a pale wrist. “She’s alive.”
Hope rushed through him. “Soon as you get her untied, we’re out of here.”
Vicki loosened the knots on Becca’s wrists then moved to her friend’s feet. Concentration furrowed her brow as her nimble fingers worked the rope.
A gunshot cracked the air.
Leaping to his feet, River crossed the distance to Vicki in three long strides. His body crashed into hers, the impact knocking the breath from her. Weapon in hand, finger on the trigger, he scanned the trees and underbrush.
The gentle rustle of pine needles persisted in an otherwise silent marsh. Thunder grumbled somewhere over the water, though it sounded nearer.
A second shot rang out.
He pressed himself over Vicki. That one was close.
River’s heart hammered so hard he wouldn’t have been surprised if Vicki felt it pounding against her back. He lifted his head. The brush at the far end of the clearing shook. Did the kidnapper decide to move in for a better shot?
River raised his gun. And aimed.
* * *
“River?” A linebacker of a figure stepped from the shadows.
Squinting, Vicki tried to shift for a better view. A moment later, Detective Dauscher stumbled from the underbrush, gun in hand.
“You okay?” He hurried toward them.
“Thank God you’re here.” She pushed River and squirmed free. Crawling over the sand, she went back to work on the knot she’d almost undone. “Becca’s still alive, but her breathing seems shallow. We need to get her to a hospital. No telling what that jerk did to her.”
River rose to his feet. “Was that you firing out there?”
Dauscher nodded and gestured toward the trees. “Came around through the woods. Stumbled through more than one puddle of muck, but I managed to catch the bastard hiding, like he was waiting for you or something. Stepped on a damned branch, and all hell broke loose.”
“Coming to our rescue again.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Theodore. Don’t suppose you happened to wing him?”
“No, damn it. Bastard was too fast.” The large man stared at Vicki while she untied the final knot. “You need me to carry her to the car?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got her.” River grasped Becca’s hands, pulled her from the ground, and li
fted her limp body over his shoulder in a firefighter’s carry. He turned to his partner. “You think he’s still out there?”
“Yeah.” His mouth thinned. “Out there watching.”
River gave a curt nod. “Let me get Becca to the car then I’ll come back and we’ll hunt him down.”
The matter-of-fact manner in which he made the statement prompted Vicki’s chest to tighten. Does he expect me to leave him in the middle of nowhere to track a crazed kidnapper? But before she could speak, he gripped her arm and urged her toward the trail leading to the car.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he called over his shoulder. “Stay alert, Theo.”
“Will do.”
Vicki struggled to keep up with River. He took long strides over ground he’d taken great care with on the way in. An exposed root snagged the toe of her shoe, and she stumbled.
“Slow down.” She scrambled to his side and slogged through a puddle. “I know you don’t want to leave your partner out there alone too long, but if you break a leg, I’ll be driving both you and Becca to the hospital.”
“Hurry.” His gruff tone carried immediacy. He pushed ahead, and she trailed after him, water squishing from her soaked shoe with each step.
Through an opening in the trees, the moonlight exposed Becca’s unconscious form over River’s shoulder. Her gleaming waves of ebony locks undulated with his hurried movement. Her arms swayed back and forth, a rhythmic chinking from the many bracelets on her wrist keeping time with his long strides.
Thankfulness swelled in Vicki’s heart. The night before, a madman had almost sacrificed her. Tonight, her best friend had been kidnapped but found alive. There was a lot to be grateful for. But as she ducked through the brambles, she found herself grinding her teeth.
One thing bothered her. One irritating fact that no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, the damn thing wouldn’t let go.
Becca’s last symbol.
The pointed capital D tied Becca and Lenny to the killer. Except the killer’s dead. So the kidnapping is random and has nothing to do with what happened last night?
River laid Becca into the backseat of the Malibu and closed the door. Without hesitation, he strode to the rear of the car and opened the trunk. A light inside flickered on and, for a moment, illuminated the grim draw of his mouth, his furrowed brow, and glinted within his indomitable eyes. Then he bent over, disappearing behind the contoured trunk lid.
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