“Sure.”
Rayne shoved the piece of paper into Brittany’s hands as if she couldn’t stand to touch it anymore.
Agent Scarrow pulled up one of the white wooden chairs rented for the wedding and gestured to Rayne and Gary. “Want to sit down? I need to tell you what we’re doing with the van evidence.”
Rayne lowered herself into her chair, sitting on the edge. Gary did the same. Brittany folded up the drawing and slid it into her jeans pocket. She’d study it later. Now she pulled up a chair and sat as well. She wanted to hear anything and everything the FBI agent had to say. Agent Scarrow sat down, legs apart.
“What about that drawing?” Rayne asked the agent.
“It’s being disseminated. Law enforcement in all nearby states will be on the lookout. I wish it were a better picture. The hat keeps us from seeing his hair or the shape of his head. But it’s something.” Agent Scarrow leaned toward them, hands clasped and forearms on his legs. “The van is still being processed. Technicians are going through every square inch of it, searching for evidence. They’ve lifted fingerprints and taken samples of the blood. These samples can be sent to a local lab for a quick test to determine if the blood is human. If it is, the techs can then pretty quickly tell the blood type. Typing will give us a fair indication if it’s Shaley’s.”
Rayne nodded. Brittany couldn’t speak. She knew it was Shaley’s. She knew.
Agent Scarrow gestured toward the upper level of the mansion. “You know a tech collected some hair from Shaley’s brush in the bathroom so we can check DNA. If the blood type matches Shaley’s, we’ll need to run DNA tests to be sure it’s hers. Those results take weeks. The other possibility, if the blood type doesn’t match Shaley’s, is that it might have come from the suspect. Maybe she scratched him and drew blood. If we get lucky and discover that we may have a sample of the suspect’s blood, we can run DNA tests on the samples, then run the results through CODIS, the national DNA databank. If our suspect has been convicted of a felony, he’ll be in the system. Or, if he’s even been so much as arrested for a felony in California since the beginning of 2009, he’ll be in the system. We’ve also extracted some hair samples from the driver’s seat. These could belong to our suspect or to the original driver of the van. We obtained hair from the original driver. Technicians will examine the hairs to see if he can be excluded.”
“Shaley and I were fingerprinted in school a few years ago.” Brittany turned to Rayne. “Remember? It was voluntary. You signed her up.”
“That’s right, I did.”
“Good to hear that.” Agent Scarrow nodded. “We’ll be able to check them against prints in the van. We’ll also run any fingerprints lifted, especially those from the driver’s area, through the California database. If the suspect has been arrested within this state, he’ll be in there. If we don’t find a match there, we’ll widen our search to western states, then the whole country.”
Gary leaned forward and ran his hands up and down his face. Then heaved back in his chair. “All this is fine, but this is evidence. We don’t want evidence. We just want Shaley back.”
“I under—”
“No, you don’t understand!” Sudden anger seized his face. “You can’t understand! We just need her found. And now we don’t even know what car they’re in!”
Rayne squeezed Gary’s arm—hard. He was usually so calm, and Brittany knew Rayne needed him to stay that way. Right now everything he said and did seemed to flow into her.
Agent Scarrow looked down at the marble floor and cleared his throat. “Mr. Donovon, I do know what it’s like to have a child snatched away. It happened to my own daughter fourteen years ago. She was three.”
Rayne’s mouth sagged open. She and Gary both spoke at once.
“I’m so sorry—”
“We didn’t know—”
“It’s okay.” Agent Scarrow held up his palm. He had long fingers. “We’re not here to talk about that. We’re here to find your daughter. I just want you to know I’m going to do everything I can to find Shaley. I will give this case everything I’ve got.”
Rayne surveyed him, as if afraid to ask the same question that hung in Brittany’s mind. “What happened to your daughter?”
Agent Scarrow swiveled his head to look through the rear wall of glass out to the back gardens. Regret pinched his face. Brittany knew before he spoke what his answer would be.
“Her body was found four days later.”
“Oh.” Brittany closed her eyes. Grief and fear surged through her. Agent Scarrow’s daughter would now have been seventeen, her and Shaley’s age.
“I’m so sorry,” Rayne whispered.
Gary shook his head. “I’m doubly sorry. I should never have…”
For a moment silence hung in the air. Brittany stared at the huge bouquets of coral and white flowers near the wall of glass—where the wedding party would have stood for the ceremony. The FBI agent’s words chilled her to the bone. They would not find Shaley’s body four days from now. They wouldn’t. No way could they live without Shaley.
Agent Scarrow smiled grimly. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. Every case is different. I don’t want you to think this one has to end like that. But I do want to say that’s what got me into law enforcement. After that I wanted nothing more than to get bad guys off the streets.” He stood up. “For me—this case, bringing Shaley home? It’s personal.”
11
At the grungy pay phone, Monster Man crowded next to me. He smelled sweaty and his breath stank. The phone hung from the wall of the gas station. At least we weren’t in the tight quarters of a phone booth.
The man’s last words echoed in my head. “You think I stole you for money?” What did that mean? Why did he laugh?
“Keep your head down,” he ordered.
He still didn’t want me to get a good look at his face. Hope knocked around inside me. He didn’t want me to be able to identify him later. Which meant he planned to let me go.
“You’re going to call your mom.”
Yes!
But I showed no emotion. I didn’t dare let him see how much I wanted this—how much I needed to hear my mom’s voice. If he knew what it meant to me, he might change his mind.
“I’ll be listening. You’re going to tell her only what I tell you to say. Got it?”
“Yes.” My heart banged around in my chest. Please, please.
He put his beefy hand on the phone. “You say anything I don’t tell you to say, I will make you very sorry.”
“Okay.”
“First, tell her you never wanted her to marry that lowlife.”
Shock ran through me. My chin came up.
“Don’t look at me!” He shoved me against the wall. My head bounced off the brick. I gasped. Tucked my chin down low, trembling.
“Did you get that?” He squeezed my upper arm.
“Yes.” My voice croaked. How could I say such a horrible thing to Mom? It was so not true.
“Then tell her this.” He continued to talk, pouring out vile words that turned my limbs to ice.
Mom would never believe me. Never. She’d know I was being coached.
That realization pushed determination through my veins.
Fine. Let him tell me crazy things to say. The crazier they were, the more Mom would know he was making me say them. At least she’d hear my voice, and I’d hear hers. At least she’d know I was okay.
He lifted the receiver. “Punch in her number.”
I raised my hand. Pressed the keys. Monster Man bent close and held the receiver between our heads.
Through the speaker “You Are My Always” started to play. One of my favorite Rayne songs. It was Mom’s default ringback tone. Tears sprang to my eyes. I closed them and listened to Mom sing.
The music cut off. “Hello?”
Mom’s voice pitched high, tight. Mom, Mom! I wanted to scream and cry. I wanted to be with her, fling myself into her arms.
For a drawn-out second, I cou
ldn’t even speak.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Shaley!” Her voice cracked. “Where are you, are you okay?”
Monster Man pinched the skin on the back of my arm. “Say it,” he snarled in my ear.
No. I wanted to tell Mom how much I loved her and Gary. How I was going to get home to them, no matter what it took.
“Say it!”
My jaw hardened. “I…Mom, I never wanted you to marry Gary. He’s a lowlife.” My voice sounded like someone else’s. “For a long time, I’ve been planning to run away just before the wedding. I don’t…” My hands fisted. I squeezed my eyes shut. “I don’t ever want to see you again. Don’t come looking for me because even if you found me, I would never come home.”
“Sha—”
Monster Man slapped down the metal hook and cut the call. I leaned against the wall, sick to my stomach.
He hung up the receiver. “There now. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I stared at the asphalt. His scuffed brown shoes. My rolled-up jeans bottoms and bare feet. I wanted to die.
“Let’s go.” He turned me around and pointed me toward the car.
From somewhere deep within me reason whispered. I raised my eyes, took in the color of the SUV, the make. An old blue Ford Explorer. License plate 2ZRY394. I stared at the plate, willing myself to remember it. After I got back home safe—somehow—those letters and numbers could lead the police to this man. I wanted him to pay.
He opened the Explorer’s back door. 2ZRY…What were the numbers? 9–4–6? No. 3–4–9. No.
They were gone from my head.
My whole body slumped. What did it matter? He was talking like I’d never go back home.
“Get in back where you were.” He pushed my shoulders.
My throat jerked in a swallow. “You didn’t ask my mom for a ransom.”
He laughed that same derisive chuckle. “I told you I don’t want money, Shaley.”
“Then what do you want?”
He laid his hand on the back of my neck. I cringed from his touch. “I’m taking you to a cabin in Montana. I’ve done you a favor, taking you away from your sinful lifestyle, Shaley. I’m going to teach you spiritual truth. We’ll start a community of people waiting for Christ’s return.”
Was this guy some crazed cult leader? I felt even sicker. People disappeared into cults and never came out. “What do I have to do with your ‘community’?”
He closed his fingers around my neck. “I’ve chosen you to be my wife.”
12
Brittany clutched both hands to her chest, eyes fastened on the recording device. Its tiny speakers had projected Shaley’s voice into the room just seconds ago. So real. So alive. Now—nothing.
“Shaley!” Rayne cried into her cell phone. “Shaley!”
Gary leaned toward Rayne, forehead creased and muscles looking stiff, as if he wanted to pull Shaley through the phone and into his arms. Kim, Morrey, Rich, Ross, and Stan huddled nearby, listening, waiting.
Agent Scarrow stood a few feet away, legs apart and arms crossed. His head tilted, his eyes fixed upon the recorder.
“Shaley!” Rayne’s voice broke.
Please, God, please, Brittany begged. Let us hear her again.
Mocking silence.
Rayne lowered the phone. “She’s gone.”
“She didn’t mean it!” Brittany’s eyes filled with tears. “You know somebody made her say those things!”
Agent Scarrow whipped a small notepad and pen from his shirt pocket and reached for Rayne’s cell phone. He checked the ID of the phone call and wrote down the number. Unclipped his own cell and punched in a number for auto dial. “We just got a call.” He turned away. “From the number…”
Weakness stole into Brittany’s legs, and the agent’s voice faded. Shaley was okay. She was.
Agent Scarrow continued speaking rapidly into his cell, then waited.
Rayne sank into the nearest wooden chair. She gripped her knees and stared at the floor. Brittany knelt beside her. “She didn’t mean it.”
“I know. I know.”
“Brittany’s right,” Kim said. “Somebody made her say that.”
“I know.”
“But why?” Gary paced, hands pressed against his temples and elbows thrust out. His voice was ragged. “They didn’t ask for money.”
Brittany’s wild relief at hearing her best friend’s voice faded. What if whoever had taken Shaley didn’t want money? What if he had no intention of letting her go?
Rayne sagged back against her chair. Gary fell into the seat beside her and pulled her close. Rayne clung to him and shook.
“We can’t sit here any longer.” The words burst from Brittany. “We have to do something.”
Rayne pulled away from Gary’s arms. “Brittany’s right. We needed to hear from them first. Well, we’ve heard.”
Gary nodded. “We should schedule a press conference in the morning. Make a public plea for the return of our daughter. And beg every person out there to be on the lookout for her. Someone’s bound to see them.”
Brittany glanced at Agent Scarrow, who was still talking on the phone. Sunday morning seemed eons away. It was only midnight now. She would not sleep. She could barely breathe.
“Right. Thanks.” The agent clicked off the line and turned to Rayne and Gary. “The call came from a pay phone at a gas station just across the Nevada border.”
Rayne’s jaw slackened. “Nevada?”
Brittany stared at him. Where could the kidnapper be taking Shaley? Why?
“Our office is calling in local law enforcement right now,” Agent Scarrow continued. “They’ll take fingerprints from the phone, see if they match any lifted from the van. They’ll also question employees at the station. If the place has working security cameras, the police can look at the tape.” He rubbed his hands together, energy bristling from him. “This is good. Gives us something to work with. And most importantly, we know Shaley’s alive.”
Part 2
Sunday
13
For the millionth time, I checked the clock on the Explorer dashboard. Just past midnight. Not long after the gas station, we’d left the freeway to take smaller back roads. For all I knew, we were going in circles. It was clear my captor took those little highways to avoid being spotted on major roads. Finally we’d been forced to hit the freeway again.
Every minute seemed an eternity. Like time had stopped. My real life had stopped. My body felt numb. In my mind I tried to stay strong. Tried to figure out…something.
I sat in the front passenger seat, not because I wanted to be anywhere near Monster Man, but because he told me to. He wanted me near him for company. I was supposed to help keep him awake so we wouldn’t crash. But I wasn’t allowed to turn my head and look at him.
What did I care if we crashed? I’d rather die than live in some wilderness Montana cabin with this man. But I clung to one thought: I had to get back to Mom and Dad. And Brittany, and the band. I had to win my life back.
We’d driven through the bottom tip of Nevada and into Arizona. We must have just hit a corner of Arizona, because not too much later I saw the state sign for Utah.
Utah. Three states away from home.
My feet were cold. I needed shoes. I rubbed one foot on top of the other. The rest of my body still ached and would hurt for days. I wasn’t in any shape to make a run for it if we stopped. Not at all. It wasn’t my strength that would get me out of this. It was my brain. I had to outwit Monster Man. And I had to fight back the panic that clawed at my throat every other minute.
I focused out my window. The freeway looked desolate, few cars besides ours. Even so, my kidnapper didn’t drive over the speed limit. Wouldn’t do to be pulled over by a cop.
“You’re supposed to be talking to me.” He hunched over the wheel, frowning at the road. Tiredness pulled at his mouth, his eyes. But a steely, dogged determination wafted from him, as if he were on a missio
n. As if he were right to kidnap me.
I’m going to teach you spiritual truth, he’d said. The words chilled me. This man was deluded.
How do you rationalize with someone who’s insane?
“Talk!” he snapped.
I jumped. My gaze shifted to his ugly profile. Would he hit me for looking at him?
Strength, Shaley. Play along. Learn things you can use against him.
I folded my arms and shivered. “So what’s your name?” My voice sounded dull, hopeless.
“Joshua.”
Joshua. A biblical name. Was it his real one?
“Where are we going in Montana?”
“To the cabin I built for us.”
“But where in Montana? That’s a big state.”
“Up near the Canadian border.”
Ice flowed through my veins. What if he took me into Canada? How would anyone ever find us then?
“Tell me about this community you want to start.” I forced the name onto my tongue. “Joshua.”
He scowled at the road. “This country is falling into evil. Drugs, sex. People killing each other.” He threw me a disgusted look. “Rock music.”
My fingers curled into my palms until the nails bit into skin. How dare he sneer at my mom and dad, and the members of Rayne. Not one of them would ever think of doing what he’d done to me.
My anger felt good. Gave me courage.
“What’s wrong with rock music?”
“It’s full of sin and degradation. Bunch a loud noise and violent lyrics—”
“Rayne’s lyrics are never violent.”
“Full of sex—”
“They’re not full of that either.”
He turned his head and glared demon eyes at me. Inside I recoiled, but I forced myself to stare back at him. You want to hit me, fine. But don’t you talk about my parents.
“There’s still a lot of sass in you.” His tongue poked beneath his upper lip. He turned back to view the road. “No matter.” He said the words almost to himself. Low. Menacing. “I’ll rid you of it soon enough.”
Fresh panic spun through me. What would he do to me?
Final Touch Page 4
