What kind of a witness in this small town wanted to stay anonymous? Had it been the dark-haired woman who had followed Dillon out of the café? Who was she? Why had she been at the school? What if she was working with the real kidnapper and had intentionally thrown them off track?
He released a deep, pent-up sigh of anxiety. He didn’t even want to voice any of his doubts out loud. He didn’t want to give them substance by speaking them. It had to be Lori. It just had to be.
He leaned forward against his seat belt, as if by doing so he could make Dillon drive faster. The quicker they got to Hank and Lori’s place, the faster they’d hopefully have some answers.
Was Hank involved in whatever was going on? Clay touched the butt of his gun as he thought of the man Miranda had once been married to.
“You realize that if Hank’s involved with this then you’re going to have to stop me from putting a bullet into his cold, black heart,” Clay said tightly.
Dillon shot him a dark glance. “You’d better control yourself. I’ve got enough going on and I shouldn’t have to worry about you committing murder. I swear Clay, if you give me any trouble then I won’t hesitate to handcuff you to the back bumper of this car.”
Clay knew Dillon would follow through on his threat. He leaned back in the seat and drew several deep, long breaths in an effort to tamp down the rage that had been building inside of him.
Rationally he knew he wasn’t going to shoot Hank, only because he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in jail. Dammit, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Miranda. He could only hope that she was in Lori and Hank’s house and she hadn’t been harmed. Yet.
The house was located at a dead end. As they approached it, a burst of adrenaline seared through Clay. “No macho crap,” Dillon said. “I’m going to knock on the front door. I don’t want to do anything that might screw up a criminal case against them.”
By that time they had pulled into the driveway of the small rental home. Clay flew out of the car and nearly ran to the front door, then he turned and waited for Dillon.
An urgency filled Clay’s veins, a sick urgency. He needed to see Miranda right now. He needed to see her safe and sound. He waited impatiently as Dillon knocked on the wooden door.
“Lori? Hank? Is anyone home?” Dillon knocked again, harder this time and the door creaked open a couple of inches. They waited a moment. “They don’t seem to be home,” Dillon said.
Clay moved closer, hoping to get a peek inside. His heart beat loudly in his ears, but not so loudly that he didn’t hear a deep moan from inside the house.
“Did you hear that?” he asked Dillon. “Somebody is in there and it sounds like they’re in pain.”
Clay wanted to burst through the door. It was only the fact that Dillon was in front of him that held him in place. Another faint moan came from inside.
“Do something, man,” Clay cried frantically.
“I’m going inside to do a wellness check,” Dillon said. He pulled his gun and opened the door to allow both men to enter into a small living room. There was a blanket and a bed pillow on the beige sofa, but nobody was sleeping there at the moment.
“The bedrooms,” Clay whispered, as if Dillon was a novice and needed instructions. Clay pulled his gun as he followed Dillon down the hallway. His heart beat so fast he thought he might suffer a heart attack before they got through the house.
Dillon whirled into the first bedroom, his gun leading the way. Clay could tell by the fall of his shoulders that nobody was in the room.
He motioned Clay to follow him into the next small bedroom. It was also devoid of human presence. There was only one bedroom left, and Clay gripped his gun firmly as the two men approached the doorway.
Dillon stepped in first and muttered a curse beneath his breath. As Clay entered the room behind him, Dillon holstered his gun.
The room smelled of sour sweat and booze, and Hank was in the center of the double bed clad in a dirty white T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. He was obviously drunk as a skunk. Clay also holstered his gun.
“Hank, where’s Lori?” Dillon asked.
Hank’s bleary eyes opened to slits. “Go away,” he slurred.
“Hank, we need your help. Where is Lori?” Clay stepped closer to the bed. He wanted to shake the man.
“Lori? She’s...she’s...” Hank frowned and closed his eyes.
“For God’s sake, you stupid drunk. Lori has kidnapped Miranda. We need to know where she might have taken her,” Clay exclaimed as he lost all of his patience.
Hank’s red-rimmed eyes opened and he stared at them in bewilderment. “Lori kidnapped Miranda? Why would she do that? That’s terrible.” He began to weep, drunken tears that rolled down his cheeks. “Oh, God, why?”
“Hank, for God’s sakes man, pull yourself together. We need your help,” Dillon said. He looked at Clay. “See if you can find the stuff to make a pot of strong coffee.”
Coffee? They didn’t have time for coffee. Still, Clay left the room and headed for the kitchen. He’d make coffee and pour it down Hank’s gullet in an effort to sober him up. He’d do it because right now the drunk in the bedroom was their only potential chance to find Miranda.
* * *
Miranda was exhausted. She had no idea how much time had passed, but she’d spent that time pulling and tugging on the bindings that tied her to the chair.
She’d cried and she’d screamed until she was breathless and hoarse, but it was obvious that, wherever she was, there was nobody nearby to hear her cries for help.
Now she sat quietly, trying to regain the strength she’d spent. She needed to remain strong. She needed to be ready in case a chance for escape came.
However, she couldn’t stop the voice of doom that whispered in her ear. It’s too late. There is no rescue coming. You’re never going to see your children again.
She’d been so stupid in getting into Lori’s car. She should have never trusted anyone, considering what had happened in her life. And now you’re not going to get to raise Henry and Jenny, the voice continued to whisper.
She tried to silence the voice by telling herself that even if Clay wasn’t in love with her, he’d be out looking for her. He’d be tearing down the town in an effort to find her. But would he find her before Lori and possibly Hank returned to this place...wherever it was?
Why, oh, why had this been done? What had she done to deserve this? A dog barked nearby. It sounded like a big dog. It barked for only a minute or so and then was silent. She suddenly tensed as she heard the click of a key in what she assumed was the front door, followed by a displacement of the air as the door whooshed open.
Oh, God. Her stomach muscles clenched tight as terror shook through her. Footsteps approached and Lori appeared carrying several bags.
“I had to drive into Clutter Creek to pick up a few things,” she said and set the bags on the counter.
Clutter Creek? The small town was about an hour away from Bitterroot. So, where exactly was she? “Lori? Why are you doing this?”
Lori began to unpack food from one of the bags. Miranda watched her, her fear still huge inside her. “Lori...why?”
Lori whirled around and her pretty features contorted with anger. “Shut up. Shut the hell up. Can’t you see I’m busy? I don’t want to talk to you right now.” She turned back and continued to put items away.
Miranda watched her with a renewed sense of helplessness. She’d hoped that maybe she could talk some sense to Lori before things went too far...before anyone got hurt. “Is Hank in on this with you?” she couldn’t help asking.
Once again Lori whirled around with a murderous expression on her face and a large knife in her hand. “I told you to shut up. If you don’t keep quiet right now I’ll take this knife and gut you like a fish.”
Miranda sucked in a breath. The venom in Lori’s voice an
d the malevolence on her face made her believe Lori might very well follow through on the threat.
She watched silently as Lori put a small container of milk and a package of cheese into the refrigerator. She then placed a couple of microwavable dinners in the freezer.
How long was she planning on staying in this place? How long did she intend to keep Miranda here? What exactly were her plans for Miranda?
When Lori began to unload the second bag of items, Miranda grew even more confused. New hardware for the cabinets, a hammer and nails and a couple of screwdrivers. After unpacking that bag, she reached beneath the sink and pulled out a can of paint.
A wild hysteria filled Miranda. What was Lori going to do? Force her to update the old wooden cabinets? Somehow she was pretty sure that wasn’t why Lori had brought her here.
As the minutes ticked by and Lori refused to say a word, Miranda wanted to scream. The tension inside her built to the point that she felt as if she was about to explode.
Finally Lori pulled out one of the kitchen chairs. Miranda couldn’t look at the woman’s face. Her full attention was focused on the sharp, gleaming knife Lori held. “Now I’m ready to talk to you.” Her tone was conversational, almost pleasant.
“D... Did you throw the acid at me at the carnival?” Miranda asked, even though she already knew the answer.
Lori shook her head ruefully. “Definitely a bad throw.” She tossed the knife from one hand to the other. “I meant to throw it on your face and burn your features. I also cut your brakes and screwed with your air bag on your car.”
“Why? What have I ever done to you?” Miranda tried to keep the fear out of her voice, but it was difficult with Lori passing the knife from hand to hand.
“You’ve never done anything to me personally. I’m doing this for me and Hank.”
“I... I don’t understand,” Miranda replied.
“As long as you live, he’ll never really be all mine.”
Miranda stared at her. “But you already have Hank,” she protested. “He lives with you. He loves you. There will never be anything between me and Hank again. I... I’m in love with somebody else. Just let me go now and I won’t tell anyone what happened. No harm, no foul, Lori. Just let me go and take me back home.”
“I can’t do that. I need you gone.” She stood and Miranda tensed. She began to pace in front of Miranda’s chair. “I wanted to disfigure you with the acid, but that missed. Then I was hoping by cutting your brake line you’d hit something so hard it would kill you, but that didn’t happen, either. You’ve been very difficult to kill, Miranda.”
“Where is this place?” Miranda asked, hoping to tamp down the growing sick energy that had begun to waft from Lori. She needed time, and the only way she might survive this was to form some sort of a bond that would make her more difficult to kill.
Lori stopped pacing and a smile curved her lips. “This was my grandparents’ house. When they died I took it over and have been renting it out. My last renters moved out a while ago and left a mess behind. You see, this is my alibi. I shopped in Clutter Creek and I have the timed receipt to prove it, then I spent the next two days working here to get the place ready to rent again.” She smiled again. “I was here with my dog. Did you hear him bark? Hank hates old Duke, but Duke loves me. He’d kill for me. Anyway, so I’ve been here all day and knew nothing about your kidnapping.”
“Where, exactly, is here?” Miranda asked. As long as they were talking, then nothing else was happening. If there was any chance that help might be coming, it was vital she keep Lori talking.
“Fifty miles away from Bitterroot and this cabin is nestled in a stand of trees that keeps it invisible from the road. I’m out of Bitterroot’s county and the house is still registered in my grandparents’ name. Nobody is going to find you here, Miranda.”
A new wave of hopelessness swept through her. “Were you close to your grandparents?”
“Not really, but I was grateful that they left me this place. It’s been paid off for years and so any rent I get is just pretty much spare money in my pocket. And it takes a lot of money to stay with Hank and keep him happy.”
“What about him? Does he have anything to do with this? Does he know about this place and that you brought me here?”
“Hank has nothing to do with this, and he’ll never know what happened to you. Nobody will know,” Lori replied.
“Does he know about this place?” Miranda repeated.
“He’s been here a couple of times, but if you think that gives you a chance of him rescuing you, think again. He was drunk both times he came out here with me. And when Hank is drunk he can’t find his way out of a paper bag. He wouldn’t be able to get here without me.”
“Where was he when you left to kidnap me?”
“He was in bed and drunk. I made sure he was good and drunk before I left the house.”
“Lori, you don’t have to do this. For goodness’ sakes, think about the children,” Miranda said.
“I have thought about them. I know they are going to be heartbroken when you’re gone, but with time and with my love, they’ll eventually heal. I love them, Miranda, and I’ll make sure they’re okay.”
Her words only further shattered Miranda’s heart. Her children would be raised by a murderer. Eventually they would forget all about Miranda, but what happened if they angered Lori? Would she make them disappear, as well? Oh, God, she desperately needed rescue.
“You don’t have to do this,” Miranda repeated. “I’m telling you Hank loves you. He’s with you,” she said in a desperate effort to make the woman see the reality of the situation.
“Yes, he’s with me.” Her eyes narrowed ominously. “He sleeps with me, but he obsesses about you,” she spat. “He talks about you all the time. He worries about you as if you two were still a couple. I’ve never hated a woman like I hate you.”
“I’m sure his worry is because I’m the mother of his children,” Miranda replied. “He just worries about the kids.”
“No, no...it’s you. And things won’t be right until you’re gone.”
Miranda fought against the scream that rose in the back of her throat as Lori moved closer to her. “And now I’m going to tell you how things are going to go,” Lori said.
She tightened her grip on the knife, her hand shaking in obvious rage. She leaned close to Miranda, her face right in front of Miranda’s.
“You’ll be with me here the whole afternoon and then, when dusk falls, I’m going to kill you and bury your body in a hole I’ve already dug out in the pasture.”
She raised the knife and placed the tip against Miranda’s cheek. “And if you’re wondering how we’re going to spend our time together, then I’ll tell you. I’m going to do a little painting on the cabinets, and I’m going to hurt you before I kill you.”
To prove her point, she dragged the knife blade down the side of Miranda’s face. Miranda screamed in pain as warm blood ran down her cheek.
Oh, God, she needed to be rescued. She begged for help to get there as soon as possible. She had no idea what time it was and how many hours she’d have to endure Lori’s torture before dusk and death finally arrived.
Chapter 13
Precious minutes had ticked by...minutes that had turned into almost an hour. Hank now sat at his kitchen table, a cup of coffee before him and his head in his hands.
Clay and Dillon had dragged him out of bed and into a cold shower in an effort to get him more alert. Then they had begun to ply him with the coffee.
“I can’t believe this. I just can’t believe that Lori would do something like this,” he finally said and raised his head. He lifted the coffee cup and took a drink.
When he lowered his cup, tears were in his eyes. “How long have you all been trying to sober me up?”
“Long enough,” Clay replied tersely, impatiently.
“How do you know for sure it was Lori who took Miranda?” Hank asked.
“A witness saw Miranda get into Lori’s car,” Dillon replied. “Now, are you sober enough to tell us where Lori might possibly have taken Miranda?”
Clay moved closer to Hank. “Think, man. She already tried to throw acid on Miranda and jacked with her car in an effort to kill her. Miranda is in real trouble and you’re our only chance to save her.”
Clay had barely been able to contain himself over the last hour. He’d wanted to shake the drunk right out of Hank. During that time he’d received several phone calls from the Holiday Ranch cowboys telling him what barns and structures they had searched. But so far everyone was coming up empty-handed.
He had made a painful phone call to Katherine to see if she could meet the kids after school and take them to her house. Knowing how tight the two women were made it excruciating to tell her that her daughter was missing.
He couldn’t even think about the kids and what might happen to them if they never found Miranda. Thoughts of Henry and Jenny threatened to break his heart thoroughly. They had to find Miranda and she just had to be okay. If nothing else, she needed to be okay for their sakes.
It was now all up to Hank. If he didn’t have a lead for them, then they had just wasted an hour of search time. “Hank, you have to have something for us,” he said desperately.
Hank frowned. “Maybe the rental place.”
“What rental place?” Dillon asked. At the same time, a new burst of adrenaline filled Clay.
Hank’s frown deepened. “It belonged to her grandparents and it’s out in the country about fifty miles from here. Her last renters left it in a mess so she’s been going out there to clean things up.” He looked at Clay and then Dillon. “That’s where she would go. That’s where she would take Miranda.”
“Do you know the address?” Dillon asked.
“I don’t,” Hank replied miserably. “And I think it’s still in her grandparents’ name and I don’t know those names, either.”
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