She almost wished she’d never met him. But then she wouldn’t have met Clay either.
Clay. Where had he gone? Nan wandered through the downstairs rooms. No sign of him or Lillian. Lillian had been a basket-case by the time the police were finished rooting around the house. Clay must have taken her upstairs to her room. Good. She didn’t need more probing by him now either.
Grabbing a parka from the clothes tree and a flashlight from a kitchen drawer, she hurried out, across the yard and into the trees.
Dusk had fallen, making it difficult to see her path as she entered the woods. She hesitated to turn on the flashlight in case Runyan had left one of his men behind to keep watch. Branches snagged at her clothing and she moved slowly, wary of jutting rocks or fallen branches that might trip her. The forest closed around her. Nan’s breathing accelerated between parted lips. Her exhalation chilled and came out in a vapor before dissipating in the damp air. Dry leaves and sticks crackled beneath her feet.
Something big moved in the brush near her. Nan halted, tilting her head and straining to see. She feared a cop might have followed her. Then it crashed off and she gave a sigh of relief. A deer. She’d seen them before, feeding on wind-fallen apples from old trees where there must once have been an orchard. She hurried on.
Nan had almost reached the abandoned farm when another sound gave her a fright. A quavering wail like something in pain. At first, she thought it might be Vickie crying for help. She would be the most likely one to make such a plaintive call. Not Lydia. She was a much stronger woman. The sound repeated and Nan giggled at her error. An owl. They’d heard them before at night. Clay said they were screech owls. Nothing to be afraid of.
Still it wasn’t fear but despair that gripped her as she came in sight of the farm’s former butchering shed. Nan came to a halt as a wave of darkness swept over her, prompting a dizziness that made her stumble. She leaned against the rough bark of a hickory, waiting to regain her equilibrium. Her heart palpitated so strongly she felt it might burst from her chest. She lay a hand on her breast as though the action might slow the beat of the organ beneath her skin. Her legs wobbled, and she shut her eyes in hope it would stop the earth from shifting beneath her feet.
Why is this happening? Tears spilled down her cheeks. What did we do to deserve this?
As she clung to the tree for support her memory went back to that night a few years ago when she’d first met Jason. Nan knew what he wanted from the first moment. His lecherous gaze had swept over her and, with the first opportunity, his hands were exploring her body. Nan would never have slept with him that night had he not let slip his relationship to Clay. She’d admired the writer since the first time she’d read him in college and it was only the promise of an introduction that bought Jason what he’d wanted. His love making was pathetic. Still he did keep his word and she didn’t begrudge him more opportunities for sweaty groping and carnal flings.
But, from their first meeting, Nan knew her destiny lay with the older man and he’d responded in like manner to her, first inviting her to join his class, then to become his secretary and, ultimately, his lover. Sex with Clay proved as disappointing as with Jason. But that wasn’t her goal anyway. To be part of his life. That was what was important, what became obsessive. And she’d achieved it. They’d been happy.
Then Jason spoiled it all.
She’d come to hate him. He threatened their happiness. He threatened Clay. Even his mother. Didn’t the fool realize that? They couldn’t allow it, could they?
She opened her eyes. The world had gone steady again. The old building loomed up before her. She had to do something about those women. But what?
Then, unexpectedly, clarity prevailed. Nan knew exactly what she must do.
Despite the horror of the thought, she must get away. Otherwise they’d blame Clay. Lillian would be hurt even more than she had already. Though Lillian never said a word about it, she must know, deep down, why it was necessary for Jason to die. It would be difficult, but Nan hoped someday Lillian might be able to forgive her and Clay for her son’s death. Lillian never had accepted the possibility Lydia might have killed Jason. She knew who was responsible, though she’d never said a word.
Nan remembered there was an old well between this building and the fallen remains of another. She’d nearly fallen into it the first time she’d been out here. Nan wasn’t certain how deep it was or if it still gave access to water. Maybe if she put Lydia and Vickie down there the dogs wouldn’t find them right away. If all went well, the police would find them before they died. Nan wouldn’t have them on her conscience.
Though she feared it might never come to pass, Nan told herself she and Clay and Lillian would be reunited in the future and reclaim their happiness.
Nan pulled away from the sanctuary of the trees and started toward the shed. Before anything else, she must tend to the women.
* * * *
Lydia’s head throbbed, and she felt sick to her stomach. She feared she might have suffered a concussion. As a cheerleader in high school she’d witnessed the symptoms a few times when members of the football team had been injured on the field. The dampness seeping into her body added another threat. If she and Vickie remained here much longer they faced the threat of hypothermia. She shivered. Maybe it was already too late.
Nan had left them both tied to posts in the shed, constricting their movements. A lack of food and water for a lengthy period increased the risk posed by the increasing cold as night fell.
Lydia’s vision seemed blurry—another symptom of concussion? Then maybe it was just the lack of light in the shed. Vickie appeared to be slumped over, her chin pressed to her chest. She hadn’t made a sound in what seemed a long time. “Vickie,” Lydia whispered. Her voice was hoarse and barely audible. She coughed a couple times and tried again, louder. “Vickie. Can you hear me? Wake up, dammit!”
Slowly the other girl raised her head and glanced in her direction.
“We’ve got to get out of here.”
Long moments passed before Vickie replied. When she did her voice came weak and adenoidal, her throat and nostrils clogged with an accumulation of mucus from crying. “I’m too tired,” she said. “It’s hopeless. We’re gonna die in this old shack and nobody will ever find us.” She followed this with a little wail.
“You cut that out. Don’t you dare give up on me. We’re gonna get out of here--both of us.”
Vickie slumped again.
“Vickie! Don’t you dare go to sleep.” As she spoke, Lydia continued to rub the cords binding her up and down the post. The friction burned her wrist and she clenched her teeth against the pain, but she kept rubbing.
The cord was binder twine, a coarse, thin rope of the kind commonly used for a variety of purposes on farms. Nan had cut it from a roll Lydia had seen lying on the floor back in the stable. She kept rubbing, tensing against the heat on her flesh, but the rope didn’t seem to be giving. If it had been old and brittle she’d have a better chance of breaking it. But she wasn’t giving up. Not yet.
There came a rasp of metal against metal and the door flew open.
Nan stepped inside.
Chapter 29
“It’s not too late,” Lydia told her. “Let us go and turn yourself in. My dad will help you.”
Nan gave her a sardonic grin. “Yeah, right. You think I want to go to jail?” She knelt beside Lydia. “I didn’t want any of this to happen. I don’t want to hurt you. But I’ve got to put my safety first.”
Lydia’s eyes widened, and she gasped as Nan drew a utility knife from the pocket of her parka. “You’re only making things worse. Please. Let us go. Vickie is already in bad shape. If she doesn’t get help soon, she could die.”
“Shut up. I’m not going to kill you—not unless you do something stupid and make me do it.” Despite a hard edge to her voice, there was also a slight tremor revealing the fear she attempted to hide. “I’m going to cut you loose. I’m leaving. We’re going outside now. There’s
an old well out there. I’m gonna put you and Vickie down in the well before I go.”
“Why not just leave us here?”
“Because they’re bringing dogs. I don’t want them to find you too soon. I need time to get away.” She reached out a hand and began sawing at the cord binding Lydia’s hands.
Vickie had slumped over again. Her breath came in raspy gasps. She gave no indication she knew Nan had returned.
Lydia studied her oppressor. Nan was small but muscular. Ordinarily Lydia thought she’d be able to overcome her in a physical confrontation. But now—her limbs numb from constriction, her body weak from hunger and dehydration, the possible concussion—could she risk going up against an armed opponent? The blade broke through the last fibers of the cord and Lydia’s hands were free.
Nan rose, holding the blade out before her. “Get up. Slowly. Don’t try anything.”
Lydia rubbed her sore wrists and peered up at Nan. “Give me a minute. I’m dizzy. My legs—I think my feet went to sleep.”
Nan stretched out her other hand. “I’ll help you up, but don’t you dare try anything. I will use this blade.”
Lydia took the offered hand and allowed herself to be pulled erect. But when Nan released her grip Lydia staggered and had to lean against the post for support. “Catch your breath a moment then we’ll--”
The squeak of the hinges on the door distracted Nan. She whirled around, knife held high.
* * * *
Jimmy paused with a hand on the latch. A padlock that looked new hung open at the side of the door. Someone had definitely been using this building. He leaned his head closer to the door, listening. Nothing. But he could have sworn he heard voices inside as he first came up to the door.
Jimmy glanced back the way he’d come. No sign of Aaron yet. Common sense dictated he should wait. But, what the hell? I’m not afraid of the woman. If Lydia’s here I need to help her. He pulled open the door and stepped inside.
There wasn’t enough light from outside to penetrate the dark inside the building. He detected no sound or movement as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. “Look out,” a female voice screamed, startling him, and he turned in the direction of the sound. A body bumped against him, knocking Jimmy off balance. Then he felt an intense burning sensation across his arm and he gasped in pain and surprise.
A form pushed by him and out the door.
For a moment he didn’t realize what had happened and he was intent on going after his assailant. Then, as he felt the wetness of the blood welling up from the wound on his forearm, another person was at his side. “Are you all right?” a voice asked.
“Lydia?”
“Yes. Did she cut you?”
“I-uh-I think so. I need to…” Suddenly he felt faint.
“Sit down,” Lydia ordered, her hands firm on his shoulders. “Let me see if I can get a look at the cut.” There was enough ambient light from outside they both could see his wound. “God,” Lydia said. “it’s bleeding a lot.” She knelt beside him, there was a ripping of cloth and then Lydia bound something around his arm.
* * * *
Aaron pulled his Blazer up next to Jim Finkbine’s pickup. No doubt about it, the car parked in the bushes opposite the truck was Lydia’s. He saw no sign of Jimmy. Instead of waiting for him, the boy must have gone out the track stretching ahead of them. He glanced at Helen and jerked his chin in the direction of the lane. “Stay here. I’m gonna have a look…”
“No way, Aaron Brubaker,” she snapped. “If my baby is out there, you’re not going to leave me behind. I’m going with you.”
Aaron grit his teeth, but he didn’t argue. He shut off the engine, opened the door and got out. Helen came around and joined him, her tread crushing gravel and snapping twigs that littered the long disused road. “All right,” he said. “But you stay behind me, woman. We don’t know what might await us out there.”
Helen nodded in obedience and followed him as he made his way slowly out the track, one hand resting on the butt of his automatic. A near full moon had come up, showing enough light on the path that he didn’t need to use his Maglite. A few steps more and he could make out the forms of several buildings.
As they approached the nearest structure Aaron heard a crashing through the brush off to his left. Thinking it was probably a deer or some other animal frightened off by the noise they made, he ignored it. Coming up to the open door of the building, he heard voices inside. Aaron drew his gun and motioned for Helen to stay back. Flashlight ready to switch on, Aaron ducked through the doorway.
“Daddy! Thank God,” Lydia called out as the light illuminated her. “Jimmy’s hurt and Vickie needs help, too.” His daughter knelt on the floor beside Jimmy. Lydia had wound the scarf she’d used to tie back her hair around his wrist. Blood soaked the scarf and Lydia was applying pressure in an effort to stem the flow.
His wife skirted around him and went to their daughter as Aaron drew his phone and made the first of several calls.
* * * *
“I messed up,” Jimmy said, hanging his head. He sat on the tailgate of his truck after a medic had stemmed the bleeding and bandaged his wound.
“You’re my hero,” said Lydia who sat next to him, leaning against his shoulder. “She was going to put us down a well. If you hadn’t come when you did, you might not have found us.”
Jimmy grinned and blushed at the compliment, happy to be held in such regard by this young woman he cared about. “I should have waited for your dad.”
“Ordinarily I’d agree with you,” Aaron said. “But this time Lydia’s right. Who knows what that crazy woman might have done to them if you hadn’t interfered?” He’d been hovering over them while another medic tended to Vickie. Helen was calling in to Doc Furman, alerting him to the patients soon to come his way.
“But she got away. I didn’t figure on her having a weapon. I should have thought things through before barging into the building.”
“She won’t get far. I called Runyan after I sent for the ambulance. Him and his boys and Sticks should be back at Stoneroad’s as we speak. They’ll find her. There’s no place for her to go.”
Helen joined them. “They’re ready to go,” she said. “Vickie should be fine. She’s regained consciousness. You can ride with us, James.”
“Oh, that’s okay, Mrs. B. I got my truck. I’m okay now. The bleeding has stopped.”
“You’re going with us, James. You need stitches. What the paramedic did was only a temporary measure. You may need a tetanus shot, too. Who knows what else that knife may have cut.”
Jimmy was about to argue but changed his mind when Lydia offered him her hand. “I’ll come along,” she told him.
“Yes you will, young lady. Dr. Furman needs to examine you, too,” Helen said.
“Me? I’m okay. I’m filthy and need a good hot shower.”
“Don’t try to argue with your mother,” Aaron told her. “I learned long ago that’s something you can’t win.”
* * * *
Nan watched from a screen of trees as a trooper exited the stable. She waited until he walked over to the house before skirting around to the rear and climbing over the fence into the paddock. It was darker here. If her luck held out, she could get into the stable. If it had already been searched, chances were, they wouldn’t look again. At least not right away.
A nail on the fence caught on her pant leg. Nan pulled at it, felt the fabric tear, and couldn’t constrain a yelp of pain as the nail bit into her leg. Damn. What else can go wrong?
Her eyes brimmed with tears as she jumped down in the yard and scurried into the shadows along the side of the building. Everything had gone to shit. Her only hope now was to wait out the search and seek some means of escape.
Whoever the man may have been back at the shed, he’d screwed up her original plan. If he hadn’t shown up she’d have stashed Lydia and Vickie in the well, sneaked back here and taken one of the vehicles. There might not have been time to speak to C
lay, but she’d have contacted him later.
Cruisers, their lights flashing garishly against the trees and buildings, already encircled the farm when she got here. Nan couldn’t understand how they’d arrived so quickly, putting a damper on her plans.
She swiped a forearm across her eyes. The crunch of footsteps headed in her direction made her pause as she was about to creep over to the stable door. Her gaze swept across the building as she sought a place to hide. Several bails of mildewed straw she’d planned to truck away were piled at the end of the barn near where she stood. Quickly, Nan made her way to them, shifted the bales away from the wall and crawled into the space.
The ground beneath the bails was damp, the smell of wet earth cloyed in her nostrils and she imagined with disgust the worms, snails and other slimy creatures crushed beneath her body. Still she knew she’d have crawled into a cesspool if need be to evade capture.
Nan didn’t dare to look up, but she sensed the presence of someone standing nearby. She heard the click of a lighter as the person lit a cigarette.
“Joe,” a voice called.
“Back here,” the person nearest her replied.
“I already looked back there.”
“Havin’ a smoke. Want one?”
The shuffle of footsteps through dried grass told Nan the trooper had been joined by another. There was a rustle of clothing and the lighter clicked again. “Thanks,” a gruff voice said.
“Where’s Runyan?”
“In the house with Hetrick. Grillin’ the old man again.”
The other snorted. “He haint gonna tell them nothin’. Dogs here yet?”
“No. Sarge wanted them to search the other place first.”
In Silence Sealed Page 18
