Her Silent Spring

by Melinda Woodhall

  “Yep, that’s Mack all right,” he said. “I’d know him anywhere.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Hunter blinked in surprise at Tom, then looked over at Charlie. The FBI agent had told him all about the mysterious man named Mack who she and Agent Marlowe’s task force were tracking down.

  The man had been an accomplice of Locke’s and he was believed to be a key player in the trafficking organization known as the Syndicate.

  “Why call him Mack?” Charlie asked. “Is that his username?”

  “Username?” Tom seemed confused. “Mack’s just the nickname Curtis had when he was little. He got it from his daddy.”

  Seeing all eyes on him, Tom dropped his eyes and tried to explain.

  “Mr. Webb always bragged that his boy was as tough as a Mack truck,” Tom said. “I guess the name kind of stuck. At least until his daddy went to prison. That made Mack…I mean Curtis…real mad.”

  Charlie considered Tom’s words, then cocked her head.

  “Do you know of any connection between Curtis Webb and your brother Donovan Locke?” she asked. “Did they know each other?”

  Shifting uncomfortably in front of Charlie, Tom nodded.

  “Sure, when I was a kid, Mr. Webb and Donnie were in business together. Donnie was over at their place all the time.”

  Hunter felt Veronica shiver next to him, and he put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

  “And did Curtis also know Summer Fairfax?” Charlie asked.

  “Oh yeah,” Tom said. “He had a crush on Summer like we all did. Only she would never give anyone but Beau the time of day.”

  The familiar way Tom spoke about Curtis made Hunter uneasy.

  “Tom, do you know if Curtis and Donovan Locke worked together to abduct Summer Fairfax?” he asked. “Or did you ever suspect it?”

  “I knew Donnie was a bad apple,” Tom said, sounding sad. “But I always felt kinda bad for Curtis after Ma told me Mr. Webb had gone to jail. She said he died in disgrace.”

  Hunter tried again.

  “So, you didn’t suspect he had hurt Summer?”

  “Oh, no. I would’ve told Sheriff Duffy if I thought that.”

  Studying Tom’s red-rimmed, tired eyes, Hunter decided he was telling the truth.

  As much as he wished Tom could tell them what Mack had done, and where he could be, it was clear that Curtis Webb had hidden his illicit activities from his employee.

  Curtis had likely known Tom long enough to feel confident he wasn’t the type to question the charter company’s activities or to raise any suspicions to the authorities.

  Hunter met Charlie’s disappointed eyes. He had the feeling she was thinking along the same line he was.

  We’re wasting our time. Tom Locke doesn’t have any useful information to help us track down Curtis Webb and Skylar.

  Moving past Tom with a resigned sigh, Hunter crossed to the reception counter and studied the screen.

  “Beau was able to track the airplane Tom was in using GPS.”

  He looked back at Charlie with hopeful eyes.

  “So, there must be a way to track the plane Curtis is on as well.”

  Charlie called over to one of the FBI agents in the hangar, and within minutes the man had pulled up a GPS tracking system and map on the computer.

  Two dots flashed on the map as Hunter and Veronica crowded in beside Charlie to see the screen.

  Hunter’s hopeful gaze dimmed as he saw that both dots were flashing over Sparks Air Charter. He turned to the two planes parked in the hangar. A third space at the end was empty.

  The agent clicked on the program settings and checked the configuration. Finally, he turned to Charlie.

  “Looks like the system they are using is configured to track three planes,” he said. “Specially designed GPS devices have been installed on each of the planes, but it looks like one of the devices has been disabled.”

  “What do you mean by disabled?” Charlie asked. “Is it something you can fix?”

  Stepping back from the computer, the agent shook his head.

  “Most likely the device has been physically damaged or removed from the plane altogether,” he said. “There’s nothing I can do.”

  “There’s got to be another way to track the plane.”

  Hunter wasn’t ready to just give up.

  “Doesn’t the FBI have a tracking system, or is that the military?”

  Charlie raised an eyebrow.

  “Slow down, Mr. Hadley,” she cautioned. “It’s not that simple.”

  For once Charlie seemed flustered.

  “There is an extensive radar network used to track planes that may be carrying drugs,” she admitted. “But it’s operated by Border Patrol and Customs, not the FBI, and that would take time.”

  Feeling Veronica step away, Hunter turned to see her approach Tom. She lifted a hand and rested it on his arm.

  “Tom, I really need your help.”

  She stared up at the man’s startled face, her eyes bright with pain.

  “If you have any idea where Curtis could have taken Skylar, I need you to tell me,” she pleaded. “You know him better than anyone. There’s got to be somewhere he would go if he were in trouble.”

  Tom looked into Veronica’s sad eyes and nodded.

  “I guess he might go back home,” he said with a shrug. “That’s what I’d do if I was in trouble.”

  “You mean Curtis would take Skylar to his house?” Charlie asked, coming up behind Veronica. “Where does he live?”

  Scratching at his chin, Tom frowned at the question.

  “He lives in a house in town, but he won’t go there.”

  He shook his head firmly.

  “No, he’ll go to the old farm. He’ll take her to Silent Meadows.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The ground shifted beneath Skylar, and she heard the sound of rushing wind all around her. She strained to open her eyes, but they were too heavy, so she kept still and tried to remember where she was and what had happened to her.

  Winston!

  She suddenly remembered that the tabby cat had been hurt. At least that’s what the man had said before she’d looked in his van. But Skylar couldn’t remember what had happened after that.

  A sudden jolt sent her stomach lurching, and she forced her eyes open, unable to accept what her other senses were telling her.

  Could I really be on an airplane? Am I flying?

  Squinting into a beam of sunlight, she tried to lift a hand to shield her eyes, but her arm wouldn’t move.

  She looked down and saw both wrists had been strapped to an armrest with some type of packing tape.

  Wondering if she was in the middle of a terrible dream, Skylar raised her eyes to the window beside her, blinking against the light of the sun as it continued to sink toward the horizon.

  No, this isn’t a nightmare. This is real.

  She was definitely on a plane, and from the position of the sun to her west, she guessed they were flying north.

  A sickening flipflop in her stomach let her know the plane was starting to descend, and she raised her head, ignoring the sharp cramp in her neck as she looked around the cabin.

  The seat next to her was empty, but she couldn’t be sure what or who was behind her. Looking toward the cockpit, she saw the back of a man’s head. He wore a headset over his spiky brown hair, and she recognized the white collared shirt he was wearing.

  It’s the man I followed back to his van. How could I have been so dumb?

  Skylar resisted the urge to call out to the man and ask where he was taking her. Her mouth was cottony dry, and she doubted she’d be able to make a sound in any case, much less get his attention over the sound of the wind and engine.

  Looking back to the window, she strained to see the ground below as she felt the plane sink lower and lower in the sky.

  Finally, the plane bumped to the ground, and Skylar felt it skip along uneven earth as it sped past a green fiel
d and what looked to be a forest of trees in the distance.

  Her heart thudded against her ribcage as the plane jerked to a stop, and the man removed his headset and stood up. She was tempted to close her eyes and pretend she was still unconscious, but she found her eyes glued to him in horror as he approached.

  “I’m Curtis,” he said, sitting in the seat beside her. “Your mother used to call me Mack, but that was just a nickname.”

  When she just stared at him with wide eyes, he smiled.

  “I’m glad you woke up,” he said, lifting a hand to caress her braid. “Now you can see the old place before we have to leave.”

  Skylar tried to speak, but her throat was too dry, and she began to cough. Curtis jumped up and hurried back to the cockpit, returning quickly with a bottle of water.

  “I bet you’re real thirsty,” he said, holding the bottle to her mouth. “Go on, take a sip.”

  He tipped a few drops into her mouth, then lifted a hand to point out through the window.

  “This is the last place I ever saw your mother,” he said, his voice quiet. “This is where it all started.”

  Reaching down to untie her wrists, Curtis didn’t seem to notice the way Skylar recoiled at his touch.

  “I’ve never forgotten how she looked that night,” he said. “So sad, and so beautiful. I hated to give her to Donnie. It hurt to let her go.”

  His eyes stayed on Skylar as the sun set outside the window, the last splashes of orange and gold washing over her.

  “You’re even more beautiful than she was, you know? Or maybe my memory of her has faded.”

  Fury filled Skylar at the casual way he spoke about her mother.

  “My mother suffered because of you,” Skylar said, her lips stiff and dry. “She suffered and died because of you and my…my father.’

  Angry tears filled her eyes and dripped onto her cheeks.

  “You don’t deserve to have memories of her that I’ll never have.”

  Acting as if he hadn’t heard her, he finished unstrapping her wrists and helped her stand up. He waited for her to find her balance, then pulled her after him, leading her off the little plane.

  When she was outside on solid ground, Curtis pointed to a two-story farmhouse in the lot ahead. Even at a distance, Skylar could see that it was old and run down.

  The house looked forlorn standing alone in the dusk, its weathered walls abandoned and unloved. Skylar could tell it had been a long time since anyone had cared for it, and the thought made her hate the man beside her even more.

  Surveying the scraggly forest that lined the property around the old house, Skylar tried to calculate how far she’d have to run to get to the trees if she could somehow break free.

  I could hide in there until someone comes to rescue me.

  The thought made her wonder if anyone knew she’d been taken.

  Does Veronica and Ling Lee know I’m gone yet? Will they come and look for me? Will they know where to find me?’

  Taking her by the wrist, Curtis began to walk briskly toward the house. Skylar stumbled after him, trying to stay on her feet as she looked around desperately for a means of escape.

  He stopped next to a black wrought iron fence next to a small cemetery. She saw that a weathered sign hung from one rusty nail.

  Webb Family Cemetery – Sky Lake, Kentucky.

  “This is where my ma is buried, along with my daddy and a whole lot of other relatives I never knew,” Curtis announced.

  He pulled her behind him, ploughing through a clump of overgrown weeds until he stood in the middle of the little graveyard.

  “This is where all my demons are buried,” he said, then pointed to a headstone engraved with the name Susannah.

  “Along with a few angels I couldn’t let fly away.”

  Panic rose in Skylar’s chest at the thought of the death that surrounded her, and she yanked against his hand, struggling to break free. But he held on tight as he surveyed the headstones around them.

  “But there’s one Webb that won’t end up in this god-forsaken place,” Curtis said in a bitter voice. “I vowed I’d never end up where my waste of a father did.”

  His grip tightened around her wrist as he spoke.

  “I’ve worked hard to make sure that when the day came for me to leave this place, I could leave in style.”

  He grinned over at Skylar, and the shadows from the trees overhead deepened his eye sockets, turning him into a leering skeleton. Turning away in horror, Skylar’s eyes fell on a long lock of dark hair visible beneath a patch of freshly turned dirt.

  These aren’t just old graves. This is where he brings his victims.

  Swallowing back a terrified scream, Skylar retreated into the safe room inside her mind, leaving the horror of the crumbling headstones behind.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Mack felt Skylar’s arm sag in his grip, and he knew he’d have to get her back on the plane soon. The drugs had worn off, but they’d leave her feeling weak. And although Sheriff Holt would no longer be able to arrest him, the FBI was now on his trail. They’d find him soon enough if he didn’t make his escape.

  “I just need to collect my little nest egg, and we can be on our way,” he muttered, dragging Skylar toward the house. “We’ll be free to start a new life together. Just you and me.”

  Settling Skylar on the porch steps, he noticed that her eyes were vacant. The fear that had lit them up earlier was gone. In fact, there was no emotion in them at all as she stared straight ahead.

  He lifted her arm and then let it drop onto her lap. She offered no resistance and remained sitting just as he’d positioned her.

  “My magic potion really did a number on you, didn’t it?”

  He ran a thumb along the smooth curve of her cheek bone as he spoke, happy when she didn’t pull away.

  “But maybe that’s for the best. I’ve got work to do and it’ll make it easier if you just stay put right here.”

  Circling around to the side of the house, Mack opened the door leading down to the old basement and pulled out a battered wheelbarrow that had seen better days.

  He rolled it back toward the Cessna, wincing at the squeak, squeak, squeak of its rusty wheel, hoping that it would bear the weight he had planned for it.

  The loading door to the plane was still open, and Curtis climbed in and made his way to the cargo hold in the back.

  Picking up a thick blue tarp, he stared down at the big bodies he’d dumped on the floor earlier, trying to prepare himself for the hard work that lay ahead.

  Both Beau Sparks and Sheriff Holt had been big men. Much bigger than Curtis. And it would be hard to get them unloaded and over to the cemetery for burial.

  But there was no way he could take the two dead bodies on the run with him. He didn’t want to carry around dead weight on the little plane, and besides, he would need the extra room to store more precious cargo.

  Dragging Beau to the side of the plane, he positioned the wheelbarrow under the loading door and tipped him off. Grunting with the effort, he wheeled Beau to the cemetery and dumped him in the weeds, then returned to the plane for Holt.

  Holt was bigger and heavier, and by the time he’d made it back to the house, Curtis was trembling and dripping with sweat.

  Determined to get the job over with, he grabbed the shovel he’d recently used to bury Darla Griggs and began to dig in a spot where the soil was thin.

  He worked steadily until he’d made a shallow grave, then hauled both bodies to the side and shoved them in. Covering the bodies with a thin layer of topsoil, Curtis patted the earth and admired his work.

  They won’t stay buried like that for long, but it should be long enough for me to get far away from here.

  Sitting down on the porch step next to Skylar, Curtis sucked in air, trying to catch his breath. He looked over at the quiet girl, glad to see that the vacant look was still in her eyes.

  “I figured this cemetery would be able to handle a few more bodies,” he said,
stretching the muscles in his back. “Although you must think I’m pretty crazy for doing this.”

  When Skylar didn’t answer, Curtis just shrugged, figuring she could still hear him, even if she didn’t respond.

  “But all this is not my fault really.”

  He felt the old resentment building up in his chest again, the way it always did when he thought of his father. William Webb had been the guiding force in his life until the old man had ended up in jail.

  After that Curtis had figured out the truth. His father had been a criminal and a loser. But it had been too late.

  He’d already learned the family trade, and he’d had to accept that he’d inherited the Webb genes. There had been no going back.

  “My father and Donnie were the ones who ruined me. They pretty much forced me into a life of crime.”

  He clenched his hands into fists, but the men he wanted to punch were already dead and gone.

  “Their way of getting by was the only way I ever knew.”

  Turning to Skylar, Curtis tried to make her understand. If she understood why he did the things he did, she might forgive him. She might even learn to love him.

  “After Ma died, not a single woman ever cared about me again,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’d hoped Summer might be the one.”

  He took Skylar’s limp hand and caressed it.

  “But it wasn’t meant to be,” he murmured. “I was meant for you.”

  As the first glow of moonlight fell on Skylar’s silvery blonde hair, Mack gazed at her in awe, sure that fate had brought her to him.

  “You’re my angel,” he whispered. “You were sent to save me.”

  A thud from somewhere nearby jerked him back into reality. His heart started thumping with fear.

  I’ve waited too long. The feds are here. They’ve finally found me.

  Then he remembered they weren’t alone on the property. Exhaling deeply, he turned to Skylar.

  “I need to go get my nest egg,” he said, getting to his feet. “It’ll tide us over until I can set up shop somewhere else.”

  He heard another thud from inside the house, and then a crash.