Ayla tiptoed, holding her breath, over to the other side of the bed and found the phone. Aunt Zoey’s screensaver was of her and Uncle Alex kissing at their wedding. And she had a password, too. Ayla tried a few names but couldn’t get in.
Frustrated, she went back over to her bed and plopped down. There had to be a way to find out what was going on. There just had to be! But what?
Then she knew! Ayla rose, tiptoed over to the door, then opened it slowly. Her heart felt like it would explode out of her chest, but nobody woke as she closed it behind her. And no one stirred when she crept to the living room. There, she turned on the TV, quickly turning down the volume. Then she kneeled in front of it and flipped through the guide, looking for the news. It was late, but there were stations that just did news, right? News usually bored her, so she didn’t pay attention in the past, but she was certain she could find something.
Then she found one and clicked on it. The man and woman behind the desk were talking about a bombing somewhere across the globe. Ayla waited, but it seemed like they were never going to discuss anything else—like her mom and dad. She went back to the guide and found another station. Those people were discussing a hurricane somewhere.
Wasn’t anyone talking about her parents? Anyone?
She went back to the guide, and just as she did, the TV turned off. Weird. Her finger hadn’t been anywhere near the power button on the remote. She found it and pressed it.
Nothing.
Something beeped back near the kitchen.
She pressed it again. Then again.
Maybe the power was out. If so, that didn’t make sense. It wasn’t stormy outside.
Ayla rose and peeked out a blind. A perfectly calm night—no tree branches moved and the stars shone in the sky. Plus, porch lights were on at all the houses across the street.
She went back over to the TV and tried turning it back on. Still nothing. Maybe she’d broken it. Wouldn’t surprise her the way things were going.
Ayla placed the remote on the coffee table where she’d found it and headed to the kitchen to see if the clock was working on the microwave. That would tell her if the power was out.
Creak.
She froze in place, and her breath hitched. Someone was about to catch her being up out of bed. She was supposed to stay in bed, not get up and check the news.
The figure of a man appeared in the kitchen.
Her heart thundered. She wracked her mind for an excuse, but then remembered she wouldn’t be able to voice it.
“Ayla?”
That wasn’t Uncle Alex’s voice. Not Kenji’s.
Terror gripped her.
“What are you doing up, you naughty girl?”
Dad.
He was back for her.
“You shouldn’t have run away.” He lunged for her.
She bolted in the other direction, her pulse on fire. Her socks slid on the floor. She reached out to balance herself. To get away from him.
His arms wrapped around her. Squeezed. Made it hard to breathe.
Ayla tried to scream. She didn’t make a sound.
He wrestled her toward the back of the house. “Hard to yell, huh? All thanks to that medicine.” He laughed like it was funny.
She kicked and squirmed. Tried to holler, despite knowing she couldn’t.
“Stop!” he warned. “We need to get out of here now.”
Ayla kicked him in the knee. He loosened his grip and cried out. She ran. He grabbed her hair and yanked hard, pulling her closer. Then he dragged her outside.
Discovery
Alex bolted upright in bed. Something was wrong. He looked around, trying to figure out what. Something had woken him, but didn't know what. He reached for the lamp, but it wouldn’t turn on.
He found his phone and turned on the flashlight. Shone it around. Zoey slept soundly. As did the twins. Ayla’s bed was empty.
Alex leaped up, and raced to the bathroom. Empty. Muttering under his breath, he searched the apartment.
Where would she have gone? And why? He raced into the kitchen. The back door was cracked open.
His stomach dropped to the floor. She wouldn’t have gone out there on her own, would she have? What if someone came to the door, and she went with them? Or worse, they took her against her will?
Or maybe he was jumping to conclusions, given his line of work and everything he and his family had been through. Heck, even what Ayla herself had been through already.
He ran back to the room for his gun, then called into the station to report the situation. With Brock having been seen in the area, he wasn’t taking any chances—even with the extra patrols out. Better to have backup for nothing than nobody there when he needed it. And since he called into the precinct instead of nine-one-one, he didn’t have to stay on the line.
Alex held out the phone as a flashlight with the gun in his other hand. He hurried to the backyard, only to find the back gate open.
He looked around the yard quickly to make sure nobody was there, then he ducked through the open gate, making sure not to disturb any potential evidence. Once he was on the other side of the fence, he crept along the house. Something crunched under his feet, and he shone the light around. Broken glass. An electrical box on the house had been destroyed. The power or the security system, no doubt. He took pictures of the mess.
That was the work of someone with criminal intent, not a young girl sneaking out. Alex snapped pictures and continued on. Everything looked normal in the front yard—everything except that Ayla was missing.
He texted one of the nightshift officers the new update and continued looking around. Once he had cleared the property and looked up and down the street, he ran back inside to make sure his family was safe. Zoey and the babies were still sound asleep, and so were Ariana and his in-laws upstairs. Nobody else was in the house.
Alex woke Kenji to tell him what was going on. He jumped up and grabbed a baseball bat.
“Nobody’s here, and the police are on their way.” Flashing red and blue lights shone outside. “They’re here now.” Alex raced downstairs and outside, explaining the situation to the officers on the scene. Two went to look inside the house, while another two hurried off to explore the neighborhood.
Kenji and Valerie joined Alex. Valerie tightened her bathrobe. “How did this happen?”
“The box on the side of the house is broken. The buttons smashed.” He showed them the photos he took.
“Security system.” Kenji grimaced. “Not very secure, if you ask me.”
Alex shook his head. “Apparently not.”
More officers showed up, some looking around the neighborhood and others moving to the house.
Valerie stepped inside. “I’m going to get Ariana up. I don’t want her to wake from the noise and get scared.”
Alex nodded. “Good thinking. I’d better get Zoey up, as well. I went straight into cop mode and wanted to figure out what was going on, so I didn’t think about it. Be sure to tell Ari that everything’s fine.”
Except it wasn’t. Ayla was missing, and more than likely her dad had taken her—and still nobody knew where her mom was. Not that Alex was aware of, anyway. He needed to call over to Spokane with this latest development.
But first, he needed to wake Zoey and tell her what was going on inside their house. In the kitchen, he asked Detective Sanchez for an update.
Sanchez frowned. “Nothing yet. Sorry, Mercer.”
Alex nodded. “It’s early.”
“We already have an APB on the father’s car. Also, an AMBER alert is going to be released soon. What was she wearing when you last saw her?”
He tried to remember. He’d been so tired, he’d barely paid attention to what pajamas he’d worn to bed the night before—the ones he was wearing now. “I think it was a flowered shirt and shorts. Yellow, maybe? I’d better get Zoey. She always notices these things.”
Sanchez nodded. “Let me know so I can get that info into the alert.”
�
��Will do.” Alex raced into his apartment and woke Zoey.
She rubbed her eyes. “What’s going on?”
He quickly explained the situation, stumbling over his words. “Do you remember what she was wearing?”
Zoey sat up, gasping for air. “Seriously, this family is cursed. She was wearing that pink pajama set with the flowers.”
“Pink. That’s right. Not yellow. Thank you!” He leaped up and ran back to Sanchez. “The pajama set is pink, not yellow, but it is flowered.”
“Shorts and shirt?” Sanchez asked.
“Yeah, a matching set. My daughter gave Ayla some clothes she’d outgrown. It was one of those.”
Sanchez nodded and made notes. “You’ve been in touch with Spokane about this?”
“Not yet.” Alex pulled out his phone. “I’m on it.” He went over to the door and watched the officers looking around the backyard.
A tired-sounding Hoffman answered. “You have an update, Mercer?”
“Ayla’s missing. We believe her father took her.”
He swore. “And I have bad news, too. The mom wasn't in that cave. We did find evidence that she had been. So, it isn’t a total loss, but we still can’t find her.”
Alex’s heart sank. “She and Ayla are both missing. Did the evidence indicate Robin is still alive?”
“We found nothing indicating otherwise.”
There was still hope.
Kenji ran into the room. “Our cameras caught someone walking up to our house! Look at this.”
“I gotta go.” Alex ended the call with Hoffman and turned to his father-in-law, who held up his phone.
“Look at this. Is that Brock?”
Alex studied the blurry black-and-white image. The guy was wearing a baseball cap and was looking down. But Alex would recognize that face anywhere.
It was Brock.
“Sanchez!” Alex called.
“Right here.”
“That’s him.” Alex pointed to Kenji’s phone. “That’s Brock Stevens! He broke in and took Ayla!”
Fight
Ayla shivered despite being in the cramped, hot, muggy trunk. The same one Dad had made her and Mom get into before.
Why had she left the safety of Uncle Alex’s apartment? If only she had stayed there, she’d have been safe. Uncle Alex would have protected her. Instead, she went to the living room and ended up in Dad’s trunk.
It felt like they’d been driving a long time, but maybe they hadn’t. She wanted out so badly, and it seemed to make the time go by slower. If only Mom was with her this time. But she had no idea where Mom was, and she couldn’t even ask. Still couldn’t make a sound.
Maybe Dad did that on purpose. She’d overheard the adults saying the medication she wasn’t supposed to be given at the hospital did that to her. Dad had been there. Wearing the nurse’s clothes. The bloody ones.
She kicked the trunk. Maybe if she could find where the lights were, she could knock one loose and get some fresh air. Then she might not feel quite so trapped. Like the walls were closing in on her.
“Stop!” Dad’s muffled yell came through from the main part of the car.
Ayla kept kicking. Dad didn’t get to tell her what to do anymore. Not after everything he’d done. Uncle Alex was more of a dad to her than he was.
“I said, stop!”
She kicked all the more, just to spite him. If he was going to hurt her anyway, it may as well be for something like this. She was done hiding. Done trying to placate him.
The car slammed to a stop. She rolled and crashed into something hard. Part of whatever it was dug into her arm.
Footsteps sounded outside, coming closer to the trunk.
Beep, beep!
The trunk opened slowly, and cool fresh air filled her lungs. She gasped it in, hardly able to get enough.
Dad appeared, a dark starry sky behind him. “I told you to stop kicking!”
Ayla wanted to tell him what to do, but her voice was still not working.
He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her up, staring into her eyes. “You don’t want me to tie you up again, do you? Do you?”
She struggled to get free, but he only squeezed tighter. Dug his nails into her skin.
“I have plenty of rope. I’m nothing if not prepared. Remember before?”
Ayla leaned forward and bit down on his cheek. Didn’t let go. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.
He yelled and shoved her. She flew back and hit her head on something hard. Spit out the blood. Regained her bearings. Jumped toward him, scratching and trying to scream. His hand covered his cheek and he was using every swear word Ayla had ever heard, plus a few new ones. She slammed into him, knocking him back. Dug her nails into his skin. Kicked him with everything in her.
They both crashed onto the ground, but he took the brunt of it. She scrambled to get off him. He grabbed her ankle and yanked.
Ayla crashed to the ground, knocking the wind from her lungs. Tried to breathe. Couldn’t. Struggled to her feet anyway. Fought to get air.
“You leave this time, and I will kill your mother!”
She skidded to a stop.
“Robin’s still alive, though I should’ve killed her for your insolence! Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
Ayla turned around slowly. Fear gnawed her at her. What if he was lying? She couldn’t even ask for proof.
“That’s right. I let her live, even though I shouldn’t have. I thought I’d give you a second chance—and I had to come all the way over the mountains to find you and give you that chance. Why would you do this to me?”
Tears stung. Ayla had the chance to run but couldn’t take it. Couldn’t risk he was telling the truth.
“Nothing to say for yourself?”
She pointed to her neck, hoping to get the message across.
“Right. You can’t say anything.” He sneered at her. “That’s what you get, you stupid brat! You shouldn’t have tried to escape!”
Tried? She had escaped. Not that she could point that out to him. Maybe it was better that she couldn’t. He hated being shown up when he was in this kind of a mood.
Dad’s phone played a tune. He grabbed her arm as he pulled out the phone. Then he swore some more. “They have my plates!”
Ayla wanted to take advantage of his distraction to run away, but she couldn’t. Not if there was a chance he was telling the truth. If Mom was still alive, she couldn’t risk him going back and killing her. Ayla had already done as Mom had told her—she’d given the directions to the cave to Uncle Alex. He would send the police for them. Maybe even go himself since he was officer.
She needed to be brave and go along with Dad. Once he brought her to Mom, they could fight him together. Two against one. Plus the police would be close. She just needed to put up with his abuse a little longer. For Mom.
Dad shoved her toward the trunk. “Get in!”
Ayla wanted to kick him, but she restrained herself. Instead, she climbed in without a fuss.
The lid slammed shut, then shuffling noises sounded on the outside. She tried to figure out what he was doing—making it so she couldn’t kick out the lights for air? Or maybe locking her in even tighter? Or maybe it had something to do with the license plate. He’d gotten mad about those when his phone alerted him.
He made more noise near the front of the car before starting the engine.
Ayla curled into a ball. Hopefully he was telling the truth about taking her to Mom. If not, she’d climbed into the trunk for nothing.
Pursuit
Nick got off the phone with Alex then raced to his car. He was determined to find Ayla for his friend. Alex hated staying back, but that was the way it went. He was involved, so he couldn’t be on the case. Nick, however, could. He wasn’t related to any of them.
He made it to the station, paired up with one of the sergeants, then they took off toward the latest sighting of Brock’s car a few cities over—he was heading back toward Spokane.
&nbs
p; “Think the mom is still alive?” asked Fischer.
“For Ayla’s sake, I sure hope so.”
“How’s Mercer holding up? Haven’t seen him since he was on nights.”
Nick glanced at the GPS. “Last I spoke with him, he was doing as well as could be expected.”
“Good to hear it.”
An update came in over the radio. “False lead on the plates. Stevens swapped the plates onto another car—same make and model.”
Nick pulled over. He wanted to punch something. “Now what?”
“Think he’s going back to Spokane?” Fischer asked.
“Could be. It would make sense—unless that’s what he wants us to think.”
They discussed options before another update came in. A car matching the make and model of Brock’s car was seen not too far ahead of where Nick and Fischer were. They exchanged an excited glance.
Fischer called in and told them they were in pursuit while Nick punched the gas. His heart thundered. After everything Alex’s cousin had done, he couldn’t wait to take him down.
The radio went off constantly with new alerts regarding the case. Other precincts were now looking for the car without plates. Spokane had found a fresh lead to Robin’s potential whereabouts.
Hopefully, Brock didn’t have a police scanner, or he’d be one step ahead of them. All he’d need to do would be to steal some plates from another vehicle and stick them on his, then he’d throw everyone off his trail. But most any officer who came across a car matching the description would pull it over in a time like this. And it would only take a moment to figure out the plates didn’t go with the car. Then they’d have him.
The radio chatter slowed after a while, the only updates being false sightings. Several cars matching Brock’s had been pulled over in various locations, but none had panned out.
Then as Nick and Fischer neared the mountains, he saw something.
“Look,” Fischer said.
“I know.” Nick slowed behind the car on the side of the road. It was a match to Brock’s. Down to the lack of plates.
Fischer called it in.
Take On Me Page 18
