KnockOut ft-13

by Catherine Coulter

  He heard slow, even breathing behind him. At first he didn’t understand—it was Joanna and she was probably tied to the chair behind him, still sleeping or unconscious.

  “Joanna?”

  No answer. He worked his hands more but the knots held.

  He heard a movement off to his left, turned his head quickly, and nearly groaned with the slicing pain in his head. Blessed stood not six feet from him. He looked taller than Ethan remembered when he’d been propped against the wall in his guest bedroom, a bullet wound in his shoulder, his mad eyes blindfolded to protect anyone who looked at him. Ethan froze, quickly looked down.

  “You’re awake, are you? No, I won’t stymie you, but I could, real last, you know that.”

  “Ethan!” Autumn ran to him and threw herself against his chest. “You’re awake. Are you back again, Ethan?”

  “Yes, sweetheart, I’m back.”

  “But maybe not for long, Sheriff,” Blessed said.

  Ethan said quickly, “Where are we?”

  “You’re in a lovely motel tied to a chair. The woman is tied to the chair behind you. She’s still asleep. Don’t worry about her, she’ll come out of it when she’s ready to. It’s interesting that you woke up first. Usually women wake up faster. Grace always says—”Blessed broke off, swallowed once, then again. He rubbed his shoulder where Savich had shot him.

  Ethan said, “You need to get that bandage changed, Blessed, or you might die of gangrene. It still hurts pretty bad, doesn’t it? And how about your arm where Joanna shot you?”

  “I’ll be a lot better than you’ll be when this is all over.”

  “I saw him take lots of aspirin,” Autumn said.

  Blessed walked to Joanna, slapped her face lightly. “Come on, you bitch, face me.”

  Autumn jumped back from Ethan and hurled herself at Blessed. “Don’t you dare call my mama a bitch! My mama isn’t a bitch. And don’t you hit her again, you hear me? You’re a monster, you’re crazy. Leave Ethan alone. Leave my mama alone!”

  “Now, now, Autumn, child, calm down.” Blessed’s voice had gone all low and soothing, but that sounded bizarre to Ethan, and evidently to Autumn too. Ethan could hear her hitting him, hear her panting, then Blessed must have grabbed her. “Calm down, Autumn, or I’ll stymie the sheriff right now.”

  Silence.

  He heard her fierce little voice: “Don’t you stymie him again! Don’t, or I’ll run away from you, I’ll hide, and you’ll never find me.”

  “I can always find you.”

  “Then I’ll go hide in another place and then another and another until you’re dead. You’re old, you’ll die soon. Don’t you dare stymie Ethan again!”

  More silence, then Blessed said, “All I have to do is tie you up, little girl. Don’t threaten me.”

  Ethan twisted about in the chair so he could see them. There was fear in Autumn’s voice, and rage, and hysteria, building. She started to hyperventilate, and then she was crying, ugly, tearing sobs.

  Blessed wasn’t deaf; he heard it too. Ethan heard the desperation in his voice as Blessed said, “Stop breathing so hard, stop it. And stop crying.”

  Autumn cried harder.

  “Oh, all right, all right. If the sheriff doesn’t try to do anything stupid, I’ll let him be, but only as long as you do what I tell you to do.”

  Autumn stopped crying. She started to hiccup.

  “Do you promise?”

  “Yes, I promise. But you better keep your word or I’ll run and hide from you.” Ethan knew a hysterical child was the last thing Blessed needed. Autumn hiccupped again, but it sounded—it sounded like a lake hiccup to him. Despite the blasting pain in his head, Ethan smiled. She was an incredible kid.

  “Sheriff?”

  It was Blessed, and he was standing just off to Ethan’s right side. “Your head hurt?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Get him some aspirin, Blessed.”

  “Let him suffer, I don’t have—”

  Autumn did it again, the too-fast breathing, a single pathetic hiccup, and Blessed sighed. “All right, Autumn. You just stay still, all right?”

  “I won’t move,” she said to Blessed. She stroked Ethan’s hand.

  The kid was playing him. Good. She wound her skinny arms around Ethan’s neck, and he whispered against her cheek, “You’re on a roll, kiddo, but be careful, all right? Blessed isn’t stupid.”

  He felt her nod. When Blessed came back, she straightened and said, “You’ve got to untie him so he can take the aspirin.”

  Ethan groaned. Unlike Autumn, he wasn’t faking.

  He felt the pull of Blessed’s fingers as he worked the knots at his wrists. Soon they fell away, not that it mattered much since he couldn’t feel his hands. Ethan slowly brought his arms in front of him and began rubbing his hands together, then shaking them. Slowly, they started to tingle and he began to feel them again. His fingers throbbed and ached, but it didn’t bother him all that much because his head was about to explode.

  “Don’t even think about coming after me, Sheriff. I won’t let you live next time. Here’s your aspirin.”

  Come after him? As if he could, since his feet were tied. Ethan took the aspirin and dry-swallowed them. He looked at his watch. Eleven o’clock in the morning. But what morning?

  “What day is it?”

  “Thursday.”

  Okay, good. He’d slept a few hours at most. He closed his eyes and sat very still, waited for the aspirin to do something good.

  Autumn said, “I want you to untie my mama too.”

  A beat of silence, then Blessed’s voice, irritated now: “No, the bitch stays—”

  Autumn screamed at him, “My mama’s not a bitch! Don’t you dare call her that, ever again!” She sounded wild and out of control. She flew at him, hitting him again and again. Ethan heard Blessed curse under his breath, heard him say, “All right all right, I’ll untie her. Calm down, stop acting crazy, you hear me?”

  Acting crazy?

  Autumn sobbed again, whispering through her tears, “Untie my mama.”

  Ethan thought the kid should be in the movies.

  Blessed tried to sound tough, but he fell short to Ethan’s ears. “Maybe I will, but if she tries anything, she goes away again. I mean it.”

  “Just untie her.”

  He heard Joanna moan.

  “Don’t you stymie her, Blessed!”

  Ethan said, his eyes still closed, “Get her some aspirin, Blessed; she’ll need it bad.”

  A minute later, Autumn said, “Here, Mama, here’s some aspirin. I got you some water so you don’t have to choke them down like poor Ethan.”

  Joanna let her put the aspirin in her mouth and the glass to her lips.

  “Untie her, Blessed.”

  Blessed, looking harassed, untied her hands.

  “Mama, let me rub your hands for you. That’s better, isn’t it? Ethan? Are you feeling better yet?”

  “Yes,” he said, and surprisingly, he was. “Joanna?”

  “I’m here, Ethan.” Ethan felt the chair move, and knew Joanna had picked Autumn up and was rocking her.

  He heard Blessed walking toward him. He didn’t look up, which was stupid, really. He looked down at Blessed’s boots. He had small feet for a man. Ethan said, “Your boots are dirty, Blessed.”

  “Yeah? Well, you should see yourself, Sheriff, and the—woman.”

  Ethan knew Autumn was opening her mouth to blast him. Blessed had made a fast save. Ethan said, “What happens now, Blessed?”

  55

  “WE’LL BE ON OUR way when you and the woman can walk out of here.”

  “Where are we going?”

  A pause, then, “We’re going someplace else, Sheriff, a very special place where Autumn will be safe, and then we’ll wait for Mama.”

  Wait for his mama? But Ethan wasn’t sure she’d come—Savich had told him he was dealing with Shepherd Backman. He’d have given a great deal at the moment to know what Savich had done wi
th the old lady.

  Joanna asked, “And where would that be?”

  “Shut your mouth, woman, it’s none of your business. Autumn, you get off her lap now, it’s time to leave.”

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” Joanna said.

  “I do too,” Ethan said.

  “All right, but make it fast. Anything funny and you’re both gone again.”

  In ten minutes they were back on the road, Ethan driving. “We’re on Highway Seventy-five,” he said. “I think it turns into Highway Eighty-one past Chattanooga. Where are we—?”

  “You just keep driving, boy, and keep your mouth shut. I’ll tell you where to go.”

  He decided not to push it. The pain in his head was only a dull throb. He looked over at Joanna next to him in the front seat. He knew she was still in some pain because she was sitting very still, staring straight ahead, her hands clasped tightly together. He reached out, pulled a hand free, and squeezed. After a moment, she squeezed his hand back. He still held her hand when they crossed into Georgia.

  Ethan steeled himself to look into the rearview mirror, afraid he’d meet Blessed’s eyes, but he did look. They were damned creepy eyes. He met Ethan’s gaze. Blessed smiled. Nothing happened. Maybe Blessed wouldn’t stymie him now, because if he did, Ethan just might wreck the van. Something to think about. He said, “Autumn, are you all right?”

  “Of course she’s all right. She’s asleep,” Blessed said. “Shut up and drive or you and the bitch are no good to me at all.”

  Ethan said mildly, “You’ve got to be careful, Blessed, about what you call Joanna. Autumn could wake up at any time. I wonder what she’d do this time?”

  “She’ll do what I tell her to do. You’ll see, she’ll come to love and respect her family, as we will love her. There’s so much waiting for her, a lovely surprise for her too. Now be quiet, Sheriff.”

  “I was just going to thank you for the Egg McMuffin and coffee back in Chattanooga.”

  Blessed grunted. “I didn’t want my niece to be hungry. It took you long enough to eat it. Don’t speak to me again.”

  Ethan knew the only reason he and Joanna were still alive was that Autumn wouldn’t do what Blessed told her to. What was he talking about—a lovely surprise for Autumn? Ethan didn’t think it would be a good idea to ask.

  It was two hours before Blessed spoke again. “Turn here, Sheriff.”

  Ethan turned off the highway into the middle of nowhere. He continued driving some twenty more miles on an old two-lane country road. Traffic was light, just a couple of pickups and a Volkswagen, only a couple of houses every mile, mostly old split-level houses set way back from the road, separated by thickets of trees.

  Blessed finally directed Ethan to turn again onto a narrow one-lane dirt road that looked more like a wide rutted path, and then told him to head toward a dense clump of pine, maple, and oak trees.

  Ethan had believed he’d known where they were going, but he’d been wrong. He said, “So we’re not going to the tobacco farm?”

  Ethan saw the look of surprise on Blessed’s face, but he recovered quickly. “What do you know about any of that?”

  “I know quite a bit about the Children of Twilight. So does the FBI.” Well, he didn’t know that much, Savich hadn’t had a chance to tell him more, but Blessed didn’t know that. “I know the cult is housed on an old flue-cured tobacco farm.” Ethan stopped, not wanting Blessed to know everything he knew, which wasn’t much. “Well, Blessed, that isn’t where we’re going?”

  “No, we’re not going there, we’re . . . Shut up, Sheriff, and keep driving.”

  “Hey, I was wondering, do many people contact you through your website? Is that how you get members? Are there Children of Twilight branches in Europe? How about Transylvania?”

  He heard Blessed cursing under his breath, heard Savich’s name, and smiled.

  “You shut up now, Sheriff, or I’ll stymie you, you hear me? Autumn’s asleep, she won’t know.”

  “While I’m driving? Won’t I run us right off the road if you stymie me? Autumn might get hurt. Best not take the chance, Blessed.”

  Blessed said, “Stop your mouth, Sheriff. Slow down ahead, the road’s pretty rough.”

  The road was soon filled with rocks and potholes, and patches of mud with tire tracks weaving in and out of them. Maples, pines, and oaks pressed in from both sides, a vivid green canopy so close the van scraped against the tree branches. The road wound upward, meandering from right to left and back again, always climbing.

  He braked when they came to an old weathered black iron gate across the road, two large wooden poles holding it in place. Trees were thick on each side, so there was no going around the gate. Where were they?

  “Get out, woman, and open the gate.”

  Joanna pulled her hand from Ethan’s, climbed out of the van. She walked to the gate and opened it.

  Blessed called out of the open window of the backseat, “Stay there until we’re through, then close it again.”

  Ethan drove through and watched her close the gate in the rearview mirror.

  Why have a gate if it wasn’t even locked? If it wasn’t meant to keep anyone out, why then—there had to be a camera in the trees, or an alarm. Each time the gate opened, whoever was at the other end of this road knew someone was coming.

  The road continued to snake upward, then simply stopped in front of a thick stand of pines. They were in low foothills, covered with trees.

  “Get out of the car, Sheriff.”

  Ethan stepped out of the van into air that was still and calm, the bright light of day starting to fade. It was still hot. Had to be near six o’clock.

  Joanna turned to see Blessed wake Autumn.

  The little girl looked dazed. Joanna whirled on him. “Did you drug her, you monster?”

  “Only some sleeping pills I got from the Quik Mart while the sheriff pumped gas. She’s fine. Be quiet. If either of you try to tell her how we got here, I’ll drop you where you stand. Now shut up. The two of you walk on ahead. I’m keeping Autumn with me.”

  Autumn said, “No, I want to go with my mother.”

  “No, you will stay with me. Do you understand?”

  Autumn thought about this, then slowly nodded.

  “Sheriff, walk straight ahead and don’t do anything stupid.”

  Blessed took Autumn’s hand.

  They made their way along a winding narrow path through the trees, and suddenly stepped into a large flat expanse, not natural but cleared.

  “Here,” Blessed said, his voice satisfied. “We’re finally here, Autumn. This place is more special than you can imagine. This is where you belong.”

  Ethan and Joanna stared at a large, ancient three-story barn, the gray paint peeling, rotted boards hanging by nails. It looked as if it had been abandoned for at least a half century.

  Ethan said, “I’d say the tobacco farm is a cover, right, Blessed? Maybe your cult was there once but not now. This lovely old barn must be cult central.”

  56

  “YES, THIS IS TWILIGHT,” Blessed said, a kind of possessive reverence in his voice. “Enjoy your blasphemy, Sheriff. Hey, what are you doing? Why are you looking back toward the woods? Maybe you’re hoping someone followed us?”

  Ethan said, “I just thought I heard something, that’s all. An animal, maybe. I can’t imagine anyone could know where we are.”

  Blessed listened a moment before he shook his head. “No, no one knows. Now, you think you’re going to escape, but you’re not. Fact is, if either of you ends up going anywhere, you won’t even know it.” He laughed, sounding pleased with himself. “Remember when you stopped for gas, Sheriff? I left you pumping? Just after we left the McDonald’s, I knew I’d seen a car that stayed with us too long. I’ll tell you, Sheriff, I couldn’t believe it, but there was the same car sitting off to the side in the station, next to the tire gauge and water hose, with three yahoos in suits inside, trying to act all nonchalant. I simply walked back to
their car, had a guy roll down the window, and I stymied him. The other guys went for their guns, but it didn’t matter. I stymied them too. Didn’t matter they were wearing real dark sunglasses.” He laughed. “I guess they were told to try to follow us, right? Well, they didn’t. I do wonder what happened to the Three Stooges. Maybe the gas-station cashier got suspicious when they never moved out and called the cops? You wanna tell me how these guys found us?”

  “I have no clue.”

  Blessed turned to Joanna. “Well, do you know?”

  Joanna said, her voice steady, “No, but evidently the FBI knows about this cult, Blessed, knows where it’s located. So if I were you, I’d be worried. They’ll be coming, Blessed, they’ll be coming.”

  She was holding it together, Ethan thought. Her hair straggled around her face, freckles marched across her nose, her jeans were dirty, her shirt ripped and wrinkled, but she hadn’t given up. Ethan imagined he looked as bad as she did. Actually, now that he thought about it, he thought she looked terrific.

  Blessed looked down at Autumn and smiled. His voice was gentle, admiring. “I know you did that, Autumn, you somehow called that agent at the motel when you were in the bathroom. But he’s not coming, he doesn’t have a clue where we are, and that’s why I made sure you had a nice long nap. If you call him now, it won’t matter because you don’t know where you are.”

  Autumn stared up at him. She said, “You need to shave. All your whiskers are white. You’re old.”

  Ethan decided in that instant that he’d do whatever he had to to keep that little kid in his life. He wanted to watch her grow up, with Joanna—

  Blessed stared at Autumn for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed. “You haven’t seen old yet, Autumn. You just wait. Now, if you two want to stay conscious, you walk over to the barn.”

  Joanna didn’t move. “I want Autumn with me.”

  “I want to be with my mama,” Autumn said.

  Blessed stared at her, then released her hand. Autumn ran to her mother. Joanna clutched her child to her, dropped a kiss on her hair, another on her forehead.

  When they reached the barn, Blessed walked ahead of them to the huge set of double doors, so rotted Ethan didn’t know how they were still standing. Blessed pulled the door out enough to slip inside. He stuck his head out. “Come this way.”