Perilous

by Tamara Hart Heiner

  The tall muscled man spun back around. “All right, time’s up.”

  No hesitation on Jaci’s part. She slipped and hit her shin on the van doorway. Amanda grabbed her hand and helped her up. The van began its sluggish forward movement.

  Jaci settled herself back among the crates, the throbbing of her shin competing with her aching head. “What should we do?”

  Sara lifted her head, eyes unfocused. “Do? What is there to do?”

  The expression on her face made Jaci’s heart lurch. She looked like she had given up already. Jaci sighed and pushed her hands through her hair, feeling it clump between her fingers. She pulled it in front of her face, staring at the dark strands. Her throat and eyes burned.

  The van jolted as it went over a bump in the road. She listened to the wheels churn up the gravel. Sara put her head in her hands, her body rocking with the van’s motion.

  Jaci looked at her. “Sara. We’re going to get out of here.” She turned to Amanda. “What now? Tell us what to do.”

  Amanda lifted a shoulder. “Look for food, I guess. Let’s go through these crates.”

  It gave them a place to start. The girls started opening the unlabeled boxes, most of them empty. They didn’t find any food, but they did find a few jewels in one of the larger crates.

  Amanda’s green eyes lit up, and she slipped a necklace down her shirt. “Oo, this one’s really pretty!” She opened a smaller box and pulled out a large and ornate pearl necklace. She lifted her shirt up and snapped it around her slender waist.

  It didn’t quite close, so she found a bracelet to join them together. Then she dropped her shirt again. Not even a bulge showed under the clothes.

  “Are you crazy?” Jaci said. “What do you think this is—a shopping spree? Our lives are in danger here.”

  Amanda lifted her chin. “Why shouldn’t I take it? We might need it later.”

  “They’re going to look for that,” said Sara.

  “Ha.” Amanda put a few other necklaces in the small box and closed it, then shoved it back under the other boxes. “Like he’ll notice a few missing. I doubt he knows what they grabbed. They were in a hurry.”

  They rode in stillness for several more hours. Jaci leaned her head against the metal wall of the van, trying to guess the time of day by the exterior temperature. One of the tires seemed slightly flat. She could hear it bumping along the road.

  The drive leveled out, and the van stopped. The engine shut off.

  “Are we getting gas again?” asked Sara. The skin around her eyes tightened, and she pressed her lips together.

  The two gas stops had been the only times the engine shut off. But they had already gotten gas twice that day, and Jaci doubted they needed it again. She reached out and squeezed Sara’s hand. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, let’s just stick together.”

  The doors banged open. The early morning sunshine assaulted their eyes, bringing with it the crisp, late-summer air. Jaci blinked and glanced back at her friends. Their faces were pale, dark shadows under their tired eyes.

  A large outline blocked her view, and they looked up to see the muscular man with the buzz cut standing in the doorway. He stood with his feet apart and patted a baseball bat into the palm of his hand. “Out. Follow me.”

  The fat-lipped man and the one with dark eyes joined him, all dressed in baggy black pants and green t-shirts.

  Jaci remembered the gun tucked away in his pants. She gazed at the mountain looming over them. There was nothing to see except a dense forest, the undergrowth thick and stifling. No roads or houses were in sight except for the four-story brick mansion at the end of the long paved driveway.

  The trees encircled the large plantation house and descended a steep hillside in front of it. A large, open garage, which contained two other identical black vans and a yellow Camaro, was attached to the side of the house. White marble pillars ran from top to bottom, and symmetrical windows covered the entire surface.

  The colors seemed muted, lacking the usual luster and brilliance of nature. A dismal pallor covered everything. As her gaze slid over a ring of steps on the porch, she spotted a thin, small man standing in the entryway of the house. He watched the girls with sharp, piercing eyes, scrutinizing them as their captor led them closer.

  He must be the boss. Jaci tried not to stare at him.

  They walked past him into the house. Jaci felt his steely glare on her back, and she suppressed a shudder. She lifted her chin and tried to ignore him, focusing instead on the interior of the house.

  It was sparsely furnished, only a few tables and chairs in the entry. A long red carpet covered the tile floor, leading down the hall. An end table with the granite bust of a woman on top sat under a coat rack.

  Stolen, Jaci thought, studying it. Probably worth thousands of dollars.

  Armed men surrounded them as their kidnapper pushed the girls up several flights of stairs. They came to a stop under a trap door in the ceiling of the fourth floor. A deadbolt sealed the door into the framing around it.

  The thick-necked man undid the bolt and pulled the trapdoor down. A ladder appeared.

  “Been a long time since we’ve had guests,” he drawled. He pulled out his gun and gestured for them to climb.

  Jaci flinched and drew back at the sight of the weapon. He nudged Sara in the back with his gun. “Up. Go.”

  Sara gripped the ladder, her face chalky. She started upward, and Jaci saw the streaks of tears on her cheeks.

  “Claber.”

  An authoritative voice behind them made all of them turn, except for Sara, who hurried up the ladder and disappeared into the attic.

  “Yes, Boss?” the big-necked man grunted.

  “I’ll take it from here.”

  It was the man Jaci had noticed outside. The smaller man with the penetrating gaze. He eyed them with a strange curiosity.

  The big man, Claber, nodded, casting one last glance at the girls. His mustache twitched, and he grinned. “Take a rest, ladies. Maybe tonight you’ll have company.” His heavy footsteps clunked down the hall.

  “No company today, girls,” the boss man said, turning his hard, cold eyes on Jaci and Amanda. “This is my house, and I’m in charge. Do exactly what I tell you, and I won’t hurt you.”

  A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “I don’t know about Claber, though. He’ll be in charge of you most of the time. Up, now. Go on.”

  Jaci and Amanda climbed up the squeaky wooden ladder after Sara.

  The boss man folded it up and slammed the door shut, leaving them in the dark, musty attic. Jaci heard him slide the bolt into place.

  A small amount of light drifted in from a round window, catching dust particles in its beams. A few muslin sacks lay on the wooden floor.

  Amanda shuddered, one hand under her shirt, toying with the necklace again. “I know what that creep has in mind, and if he dares come near me, I’ll poke his eyes out.”

  Jaci clenched her fists together, feeling tense and ready to snap. “Amanda, you’re just as scared as the rest of us.”

  Amanda looked at her. “No, I’m not.”

  Sara wandered over to the window, no bigger than her face, and dusted it off with her sleeve.

  “This is not good,” Jaci whimpered. A hard lump formed in her stomach. Thoughts of her family, Seth, Callie, flashed through her mind. She forced them away. “I knew something bad was going to happen.”

  “What?” Amanda turned on her. “What do you mean, you knew? And you didn’t do anything? Then I guess that makes this all your fault.”

  “Shut up, Amanda,” Sara snapped. “If it weren’t for you, we’d have called the police and been fine.”

  Again the anger rose inside Jaci. It was so easy to feel anger. It gave her something else to focus on. “Sara’s right. It’s your fault we’re here.” There. She’d said it.

  “My fault?” Amanda said, her eyes widening. “It was Callie who shrieked and attracted their attention!”

  “Don’t you e
ven try to put this on Callie,” said Jaci.

  “Callie screamed because they dragged you into the store, Amanda,” Sara said. “Did you want us to just walk away and leave you?”

  “You’re the runner,” Amanda retorted. “Why didn’t you run for help? You could’ve saved us all.”

  “Oh, so it’s everyone’s fault except yours, huh?” Jaci jumped to Sara’s defense.

  “Did you call 911?” Amanda demanded. “That’s what you were supposed to do at the phone. I was keeping watch for you guys. Did you even call?”

  “I—” The blood drained from Jaci’s face. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She remembered now how she had dropped the phone without dialing anything.

  The brief moment of silence was enough to cool the atmosphere. “Fighting won’t help anything,” Sara said, her voice empty again. She turned back to the window and drew in a shuddering breath.

  Jaci turned to Sara, her anger fading in a rush of guilt. “You’re right. Sorry.” I’m sorry, Callie. So sorry. Tears formed in her eyes, and she didn’t brush them away.

  Sara sank to the floor beneath the window. “If we’re lucky, we’ll make it out alive.”

  “Let’s get some sleep,” Jaci said. “We’ll think better when we wake up.”

  “No way,” said Amanda. “We’ve got to figure out how to get out, now. There’s no time to sleep. What if he comes back?”

  “We’re stuck in this attic, and we don’t fit through that window.” Sara’s words slurred with exhaustion. “Let’s sleep.”

  Jaci spread out one of the muslin sacks and lay down. The hard floor bit into her shoulder blades and tail bone. She swallowed, trying to moisten her dry throat. The blood pounded in every limb of her body. She closed her eyes.

  Amanda coughed, waking Jaci. Judging from the darkness outside the window, it was late evening. Jaci sat up. “Well, at least we didn’t get any company.”

  “Thank goodness,” Amanda agreed. “Though some water would be nice.”

  “There is water.” Sara’s quiet voice came from the corner of the attic. She rolled a large bottle of water at them. “Someone put this up here while we slept. I saved some for you guys.”

  Amanda grabbed the bottle, barely waiting to get the lid off before she started chugging.

  Jaci rolled up the edge of her sack. It slowly unrolled itself. Her long fingers found the edge and rolled it up again. “I wonder when we’ll get home.”

  “If we get home,” said Amanda.

  “We will.” Jaci took the water bottle from Amanda and tried not to gulp it down. It was stale, but it ran down her throat like a river in a desert.

  “But what if—”

  Jaci forced the bottle from her mouth. “No ‘ifs.’ We’ll get home.”

  A bang against the floor made them jump.

  “Have excess energy?” a voice roared. “Then I’ve got plenty of work for you to do. Keep it quiet.”

  “Like you haven’t hurt us enough already?” Amanda said loudly.

  “What?”

  Amanda gasped. “Nothing.”

  Jaci clenched the bottle of water, white-fisted. “Amanda, you’re going to get us all killed.”

  “I’m scared,” Sara said, curling her knees up to her chest and holding them to her.

  “Me, too. I want to go home.” Jaci’s throat ached, and hot tears started down her face. Sara scooted closer to her and touched her arm. Jaci couldn’t look at her. She put her head down and sobbed.

  Sara began to cry, too. Jaci wrapped her arms around her for a long moment, then lay down on her sack, rolling over with her back to the other girls.

  The tears continued down her face, spilling over her nose and lips. She stared at the wooden rafters and tried to pray, but no words came.

  The night lasted forever. The darkness in the room closed in around Jaci until it felt like a thick blanket, suffocating. Her eyes shot open, her heart pounding, but the attic remained bathed in the mellow moonlight that glided through the window.

  She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the pressure building around her head. It pressed against her face, making her ears ring. Burying her face in her hands, she prayed until it faded into the background.

  She thought of her mom, probably crying herself to sleep. Did her dad know yet? Was Seth sorry they had argued? The tears sprang to her eyes again, and she prayed harder, trying to force all other thoughts from her head. She prayed until sleep finally claimed her.

  September 15

  Shelley, Idaho

  Carl waited outside the three-story brick house. He glanced at his watch. Nearly a minute had passed since he had rung the doorbell.

  The door opened, revealing a pale, disheveled woman. Her short blond hair sat in unkempt layers on her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was—resting.”

  Sara’s mom. She had been crying. Just like Callie’s mother. “I understand, Mrs. Yadle. May I come in?”

  She nodded and opened the door further. “Please do.”

  Her bare feet didn’t make any noise as she led him across the tile. Carl took in the white carpet and white couches in the sitting room. A white banister led to the upper stories. It didn’t look like a teenager lived here. “Can you show me Sara’s room?”

  “Of course.”

  Carl followed her up the staircase, flipping through his pictures of the four girls. His examinations of the mall employees had turned up empty. The security guard was found in the morning, gagged and knocked out with chloroform. He hadn’t seen a thing.

  And someone had robbed the jewelry store.

  Thieves and kidnappers had two very different profiles, but maybe this one saw profit in stealing teenage girls. The jewelry store thief remained the number one suspect.

  He entered Sara’s room. Track medals dangled from the bedposts, stuffed animals lounged on the floor. “She’s a runner, huh?” Always careful to use present tense.

  Mrs. Yadle nodded. “Yes. She’s very good.”

  Carl picked up the pink Motorola camera phone on the bed. Expensive. “Is this Sara’s?

  “Mm-hm.”

  “Can I take it?”

  She nodded, clasping her hands together.

  He put it in his pocket. Lots of contacts in there, maybe some text messages. Cell phones were gold mines of information. “Does that computer have internet access?”

  “Oh—yes. But Sara hardly ever uses it. She’s always outside.”

  Right. That’s what all the parents thought. “Are there any passwords on it?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I’d like to have a look at it before I go.”

  “Okay.”

  He braced himself. No parent liked the next question. “Did Sara have any boyfriends that you know of?”

  She shook her head as quickly as Callie’s mom had. “No.”

  The phone and computer would tell the truth. “How would you describe Sara’s personality?”

  “Cheerful. Always smiling. A little shy sometimes.”

  He pulled her picture out, examining the spread of freckles over Sara’s nose, the sandy-blond hair and the slender frame. Her smile revealed perfectly aligned teeth. Only braces could make teeth that straight. She looked nothing like her parents. “How was her relationship with you and your husband? Is he her father?”

  She frowned. “We’re her parents. But actually, Sara’s adopted. And… she just found that out three months ago.”

  Carl flipped open his notebook, pen and paper out before he realized it. “Tell me the story.”

  “We adopted her when she was a baby. We opted for a closed adoption. Her parents were dead, but there were some other family members who wanted to be a part of her life. Well, we didn’t think that would be good for her. Too confusing. We wanted her to think of us as her real parents. We didn’t ever want her to wonder if we loved her as much as we would a biological child. After the adoption was finalized, we never heard from her relatives again.

  “Honestly, Mike and I did
n’t think about her adoption. She was our baby, our Sara. Well, then she found the adoption certificate in her baby book behind her birth certificate. She went nuts. We tried to calm her. But she was so angry with us.”

  The woman bit her lower lip. “I’ve never seen her so angry. She demanded to know more about her family. But we didn’t have any information.”

  Interesting. “Who does have that information? Where would she have to go?”

  “The courthouse, where the final documents were signed. I believe those are the only records of her previous family members.”

  “Does she know where that is?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Carl nodded. “I’d like to see that adoption certificate, if I may.” He didn’t think it likely that the four girls had decided to go on a quest to find Sara’s family, but he wasn’t going to rule it out.

  “I’ll get it for you.”

  She left the room, and Carl seated himself at the computer. Time to get to know Sara.

  Chapter 5

  Jaci opened her eyes. Had she slept at all?

  Claber slammed the attic door down with a thud that vibrated the wooden floor. “Come on, get up.” He stood over Jaci and kicked her in the side. She pushed herself up, blinking to clear her head.

  “Ow!” Amanda folded her arms across her face and received another kick. She jumped up, glancing at him once and then quickly lowering her eyes.

  Claber grabbed Jaci’s forearm, forcing her to look at him. “The basement needs cleaning.” He narrowed his eyes. “You better keep your friends in line. Or you know what can happen.”

  Her mind felt fuzzy and her knees trembled. She stared at her toes, trying to stay on her feet.

  “Got that?”

  Jaci nodded.

  “Good. Then follow me. Keep up.” With a grunt, he heaved himself down the ladder.

  “What now?” Sara asked in a small voice.

  Jaci looked up and swallowed hard. Apparently she was supposed to be the leader here. “Well, I guess we follow him to the basement, and then we clean.”