“Is this Joe MacDonald?” A timid female voice asked.
“It is.”
“This is Susan Grant, Haley’s mother. I wanted to say thank you.” He softened toward the woman who’d been through a living nightmare.
“Thank you? Mrs. Grant, I haven’t done anything. How is your daughter?” He waved to Cindy, a dispatcher headed in to start her evening shift.
“Much better. She may be grounded for the rest of her life, and she’s going to counseling and treatment. We thought that would be best, despite what...” Her words trailed off and hung, heavy in the silence.
“I think you’re doing the right thing.” As worthless as it was, he offered his support.
“You’re wrong, you know. You did do something. You listened.”
“That’s my job, Mrs. Grant.” He nodded to Caleb as the other deputy got out of his personal ride.
Her voice gained strength. “Well, then, you’re one of the few still doing their job in this town.” Then her voice weakened and trailed off again. “Is there anyway Haley and I could talk to you for a few minutes? It’s about what happened the night of…”
“Sure. Do you want me to drive by your home? When would be a good time?”
“No.” Her answer came quick and hard. He didn’t blame her. The last time he’d come by, he’d delivered the horrible news of Haley’s overdose. “Can we meet tomorrow? My husband will be home, and we can meet you somewhere. I’d like him there.”
“That’s fine.” He got his keys out and started across the lot. Looking up at the sky and seeing heavy clouds, he thought about Cara, hoping for clear weather, despite the storm-riddled forecast.
He had to concentrate on her last words, as her voice became a whisper. “Haley wants to talk to you, but we don’t want to come into the station.” Something dark and angry twisted in his gut when she hung up without saying goodbye.
She knew something. What, he didn’t know, but he’d find out. Her not wanting to come by the station was another giant red arrow pointing to Hawkins. Maybe they had something they could use as evidence against him. He could only hope.
Just as he put his phone away, it rang again. It was his mother. He greeted her warmly, “Hey, what’s pickle into today?”
His mother’s words made his blood chill. “I…Joe, I can’t find her. We went by the park like usual. One minute she was swinging in her usual spot and then the next, she was just gone. I swear, I only looked away for a moment. I’ve looked everywhere for her. I went back and asked Andrew Jenkins—he was on the swing next to her—and he said…” His mother took a ragged breath. When she sobbed, he had to brace himself with one hand against the roof of his cruiser. His closed his eyes to shield himself from the wavering world around him. “He said he saw a man carry her off. My grandbaby. I should have asked him first instead of walking all over the park. I messed up. What do I do?” Her voice broke on a ripping sob. “I—I’ll call the police. I’ll call you right back. I need to call the sheriff.”
“No!” Her last word snapped him out of his terror-fueled fog, and he barked at his own mother. His heartbroken, grieving mother had just discovered her only grandchild had been kidnapped, and he’d yelled at her.
“But what do I do?” Bless her, she didn’t even stutter at his shout. There was no way in fucking hell that he was calling Hawkins in on this. Not even if he were the last man on the planet.
“Mom.” He softened his voice and tried to pull his shit together. “I am the police. This is what I do, remember? I’ll be right there. Don’t leave. I’m coming to you. Okay?” He turned away from his cruiser and headed for his truck. “I’ll be right there. Keep Andrew with you, so I can ask him some questions.” Without waiting for a response, he hung up on his mother. His own fucking mother who’d just had her grandchild kidnapped out from under her fucking nose.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
He opened the door to his truck and found a rolled up piece of paper. Wrapped around it was his daughter’s hair scrunchie. He recognized it as the one he’d twisted around her single braid that very morning. Torn between wanting to snatch it up and examine it for clues right that very instant and fearing what it would say, he reached for the letter and dialed Rick’s number.
Those fucking assholes had just declared war. He’d tear the fucking town apart with his bare hands if need be. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to stop him from getting his little girl back.
“I’m on it. I’ll call in everyone. We’ll pull every atom of intel imaginable and head out yesterday. MacDonald, don’t go out there…fuck me. He hung up. If we don’t get him contained he’s gonna burn Riley Creek to the ground. What are those bastards thinking?”
Cara stood on Trent’s porch and stopped her hand right before she knocked. Something had Rick on the verge of losing his cool, and he never lost his temper. She’d seen his SUV coming up driveway and decided to take a break from her mother. Something big and nasty was brewing, and Joe was a part of it.
She put her hand on the screen door handle when Trent spoke. “You call in the guys. Kate and I’ll go up to the big house and tell Cara together.”
“I—” Rick spoke but Trent cut him off before he managed more than a single word.
“No. Don’t go playing protective overlord. I don’t care what the night brings. You leave her out, and she’ll never forgive you. I don’t care if you’re willing to sacrifice that for her safety or whatever excuse you’ve cooked up. One of us is telling her. Decide which.” It was nearly as rare to hear such a hard edge to Trent’s voice, making it only more alarming for its rarity.
She’d had enough and didn’t want to wait around to see what Rick would decide. He might not like it, but ultimately he’d listen to Trent. She opened the door and stepped in. “What’s going on?”
A stiff breeze tried to pull the screen door from her hand. She felt the humid air at her nape and remembered the forecast. A menacing line of storms was expected to roar through the region later in the evening. That might be a problem for her, but it certainly wasn’t enough to make Joe want to “burn Riley Creek to the ground” as Rick had said.
Both men looked to her with faces darker and more somber than she’d ever seen them.
Rick’s shoulders slumped, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck me.”
Trent turned to answer, “Bad shit, really bad shit’s gone down. We were getting ready to call in the team and tell you.”
She crossed her arms and tilted her head. He knew he hadn’t fooled her, but he kept going. “A few minutes ago, Joe received a panicked call from his mother.” Cara’s throat tightened. Louise MacDonald hadn’t seemed the type to panic when shots had been fired right outside her work. “She said another child at the park witnessed a man carrying Kylie away. She called Joe, understandably extremely upset. Joe is likely racing to the Oak Knob Mine as we speak.”
“Why isn’t he going to the park? We need a description. Oh God. This is connected.” A two-ton weight sank in her belly. “They’re dead. If Joe doesn’t get to them first, I’ll kill them.” White hot rage screamed through her in a fiery storm of anger. Righteous and hate-filled, she wanted to commit murder. Happily, gleefully, she would rip them limb from limb. “It has to be Boyd and Hawkins. Let’s go. What are you waiting for? Call the boys. Bring everybody and everything in. The mines? We’ll need gear. I’m going to change and grab my…my everything.”
Then it hit her. She stopped in her tracks. Nausea clawed at her throat.
“Why exactly is Joe going to the mines?” She needed to know just as badly as she needed the answer.
“The reason Joe isn’t going to the park is because a note was left in his truck. It gave him the location where they hid Kylie. We’re certain that Boyd or Hawkins left it.”
She wanted to lash out and punch something.
“Joe is calling a friend he trusts to go and meet with his mother and talk to the kids in the area Kylie was taken. Trent? Why don’t you drive her up t
o change while I grab our gear and make the calls? Pete’s the only one who’s out of town.” Without waiting for an answer, Rick dialed a number and turned.
“Let’s go, babygirl.”
God, no one had called her that since well before the Mayhem incident.
They hurried outside and to his truck, but he stopped her before she got in. “Look at me.” Something in his tone got her and she met his gray gaze, only to have him look up at the sky, then back to her. “This storm rolling in is likely gonna be nasty. The Weather Service has already issued a severe storm warning that doesn’t expire until midnight. There’s even a possibility that tornado watches will be put into effect. You need me to pull you out; you let me know. There won’t be a single drop of disappointment. You get me? Shit gets to you, speak up, and I’ll get you out.” As if it heard him, a gust of wind ruffled his hair. She tucked a stray strand of her own behind her ear, even though she knew it wouldn’t stay.
Damn, she had the best friends.
What could she say? “Okay. Let’s go.”
He raced across the landscape. His phone, laying in the passenger seat beside him, had finally quit ringing. Rick, his mother, Leigh, Cara, who knew who else had called? He knew he should be thankful he had their support, but he couldn’t think of anything beyond the fact that his little girl was likely at the bottom of a mine. Alone. Drugged.
Beside his phone on the seat lay the letter and Kylie’s scrunchie.
If you haven’t yet, I expect you’ll be receiving a panicked phone call at any moment, so let’s cut to the heart of the matter.
Your daughter.
I have her.
For the time being? She’s fine and asleep, totally oblivious. Unfortunately for you, I can’t predict how long she’ll stay that way. You and your friends have been a pain in our asses, MacDonald. That needs to end now.
Today?
This serves as a warning. Continue? The next time you receive a letter, it will tell you where to find her body. She’ll get something a lot worse than a double dose of Benadryl.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he made the turn that would take him down to the old mines. He caught the familiar blur of brown and white fur in the trees and slowed a bit. It wouldn’t help him get there any faster if he hit a deer or wrecked on the way.
Besides, Kylie would be mad at him if hurt an animal of any type.
Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as the old, busted blacktop ended and met a weed-choked trail. Judging by the two sets of flattened lines in the knee-high grass, someone had driven in and back out recently.
He was in the right spot.
What kind of game were they playing? What kind of kidnapper told you were to find the victim? Yes, the note said it was a warning, but why go to all this trouble? It was a lot of planning, work and risk. All for a warning.
It didn’t add up.
They wanted him out of the way. Why?
For them to mount this kind of rocky scheme, there had to have been something big going down to make the drama worth their while.
The tire tracks through the grass ended near the mine’s opening. The Oak Knob Mine had been deemed unsafe and sealed ages ago. Nobody was getting in through the rock wall they’d erected nearly fifty years ago. At the side of the hill, a single depressed line in the tall grass began. It followed up a gradually inclining slope around side of the mine and ended where a rocky slope began. He stopped right where the tire tracks ended and threw the shifter into park.
“You good?” Trent assessed her with his all too serious gaze.
“I’m good.” Okay, her palms were sweaty, and she wasn’t quite sure her breathing was steady, but wild horses couldn’t drag her from this hillside until they found Kylie and got her out.
“Remember what I said.” Trent delivered his final reminder, hitched a bag of gear over his shoulder and followed the path someone had made as they’d walked through the weeds. She grabbed her own pack out of the truck and followed, eager to get to Joe.
God, how she ached for him and poor little Kylie.
A damp, sticky wind blew by, tugging her hair as if teasing her. Dark clouds hung low and heavy in the distance. She tried not to pay attention to them, but as they’d flown through the evening, she hadn’t had much else to do.
She found Rick and Trent standing at the top of the rise beside an ancient barrier of iron bars that seemed to grow out of the ground. It was about waist-high and just a couple of feet wide on three sides. Someone must have added it years ago to keep people from falling in. It reminded her of a haunted amusement park ride. Joe lay flat on his belly, looking down into the vent shaft. “Fuck me. I can’t see or hear anything. I don’t know whether to call out and reassure her that I’m here or stay quiet and pray she sleeps a little longer. Did you bring ropes? I’m ready to go down now. You guys just lower them down as soon as you get set up. The old entrance is sealed shut. This vent is the only way to get down there.”
“Joe, that’s not going to work. We’re going to do this the right way. No arguments.” Rick looked down, his expression firm but soft, too.
Joe stood and Cara doubted he realized she was there, which was okay. Kylie was their one and only priority. “Bullshit. The storm’s coming in fast. I’m not waiting.” The moment the word storm left his mouth, he seemed to realize she was there. “Sweetheart, I… I have to get her out.” The devastation on his face broke her heart.
“I know. We’re here to help. I think you should listen to Rick.” Faintly in the distance, she heard the door of another vehicle shut. That would likely be Noah and James. Pete was out of town with his family. They were all here.
Lightning flickered dimly somewhere in the distance, far beyond the forest. She steadied herself with a deep breath and told herself for the fiftieth time that they all had far bigger things to worry about than a summer storm.
She prayed James and Noah hurried, and that they weren’t needed. Rick wouldn’t hesitate to lock Joe down if he decided to recklessly charge in. If it came to that, they’d need every bit of Noah’s brawn. As badly as they all wanted to get their girl out, they had to play it safe.
She never hated that logic so much in her life, but she couldn’t deny the wisdom of it.
Rick finally asked the question they’d all been thinking. “Any sign of her?”
Joe pointed to a pink and black cowboy boot leaning against one of the metal posts. “It was standing right here, waiting for me to find it.” Grass and dirt covered the front of his uniform and his hair stood on end.
She caught movement from the corner of her eye and looked to see James and Noah jogging up the hill.
“Joe, you can’t just climb down and wait for us to throw you a rope. The vent is forty feet deep and only about twenty-eight inches across. How broad are your shoulders? I’m guessing you’re at least thirty inches across.”
“So, if we can’t fit together on the way up, I’ll go down first, and send her up to you. Pull me out after.” He looked to Rick, full of fear and impatience.
Light flashed in the distance. Rick took a deep breath, making his shoulders raise and sag as if the weight of the world hung on them. Thunder rolled through the sky above, a quiet, lazy beast.
“You won’t fit. None of us will, but you and those broad shoulders definitely won’t fit. There’s no way around it.” Rick looked as though his heart were breaking.
“I’m not calling in the Sheriff’s Office. I don’t want Hawkins anywhere near Kylie. After I get her out of this, he’s a dead man.” Joe looked down to the dark hole.
A damp gust of wind blew by, taunting her with the storm’s threat. She shivered in the humid heat.
James ran a hand through his hair and looked sick to his stomach. “Joe, you won’t fit. Pete’s not here or we could send him in.”
“I’ll go. Get everything ready. Now. Time’s wasting. Lights, gear, all of it.” They all looked to her as if she’d lost her mind.
“Sweetheart, yo
u need to be in the truck. The storm’s rolling in, and it’s going to be bad. They’ve already issued tornado warnings for the surrounding counties. I…I can’t stay with you. I have to get Kylie out.” The raw devastation on Joe’s face only cemented her resolve. She was doing this, thunder be damned.
“It’ll be a tight fit, but I can do it. There’s no room for my embarrassment here. I may be a blubbering mess by the time you all pull me out, but oh well. I’ve survived worse and Kylie shouldn’t have to. Every second we waste arguing is another second she’s in that hole. Just have someone scoop me up and pour me into the back of one of the trucks. Eventually I’ll get my shit together. Y’all will just have to deal with me being a basket case. I can keep it together long enough to get to Kylie and get her out. The longer we wait, the harder it’s going to be for me and her.”
James dropped his bag and started removing items they’d need and she exhaled.
Joe came to stand in her space and cupped her cheek. She met his damp, chocolate and caramel eyes. “My badass, warrior princess. I don’t want this for you.”
“I don’t want this for you.” She heard the sound of another bag dropping to the ground. “Just talk to me. Don’t leave me in the dark alone.”
“Never. I’ll be in your ear the entire time.” The first raindrops fell.
Chapter Fourteen
Joe stepped aside to talk to Rick. He watched Cara flinch and close her eyes as lightning flashed again. This time a bright, defined bolt forked the earth somewhere in the forest beyond. None of them should be standing on the hill with lightning so close, but not a one of them pointed out the danger they were in. They didn’t care.
With his gut twisted into a hundred knots, a tight fist clenching his heart and another squeezing his throat, he was a mess and at the worst possible time. His daughter, his world was waiting on him to rescue her and his fucking shoulders were too broad? He’d have never in a million years thought that his size and strength would be a hindrance.
Catching Cara: Dark Horse, Inc: Book 2 Page 17
