Ladd Springs

by Dianne Venetta

  Chapter Nineteen

  Standing in front of the “golden rock,” Nick scanned the abundance of trees, the trunks black sticks against a backdrop of sea green. Swells of earth formed walls of red clay on either side of him, boulders and roots rose free from a blanket of brown leaves and decaying branches. But there was no sign of Delaney, no clue to her whereabouts. “Damn it,” he muttered. “Where are you, Delaney?”

  Nick’s gut told him Delaney was in trouble, and the more time he wasted, the more danger she faced. If she wasn’t here, he had a sneaking suspicion that Clem might know where to look. He was the only person who had demonstrated a will to hurt her, he and his pal with the gun. The three men together had it out for Delaney.

  She was a fighter, he’d witnessed that much firsthand. If it came down to fists, she’d get away from him. Bumped and bruised for her time, but Nick would put money on her to walk away the winner. If it didn’t, things didn’t bode well for Delaney.

  Nick half-ran, half-jogged the trail out of the woods. Once he reached the clearing, a plan formed in his mind. First stop, Clem’s trailer. If he knew something, Nick would get it out of him. Beat it out of him, if need be, something that would give him great pleasure. Then he’d get Delaney, and the two would return to Felicity. Sadness pricked at his heart. He hadn’t liked seeing the naked fear in her young eyes. If Delaney was harmed, the bastard responsible would pay. Nick could only hope that bastard was Clem.

  As Nick jogged through the tall meadow grass, Ernie’s cabin came into sight. His truck was back, along with another car. A white sedan, unfamiliar to him.

  When Nick reached the gravel driveway, he spotted a woman speaking to Ernie. Huddled in his rocker as usual, he appeared unhappy to see her. Nick strode over and heard the black-haired woman demand, “You mean to tell me you’re not the least bit concerned?”

  “I ain’t.”

  Rounding the edge of the cabin, Nick noted Albert Ladd, peacefully rocking to and fro as the disagreement heated beside him. Nick shook his head in wonder. The man was innocuous to a fault.

  “Well, you should be,” the woman snapped. “Those two are up to no good.”

  “You’re the one who’s up to no good.” Ernie looked to Nick. “Along with this one.”

  The woman whirled around. “Who are you?”

  “Nick Harris,” he said, wondering at her identity, as well. The woman was fairly attractive, with a slim build. Her black hair, all one length, framed a round face marked by two big blue eyes. Two incredibly beautiful blue eyes. “I’m here to speak with Mr. Ladd,” he told her.

  “Mr. Ladd?” Annie blinked, as though confused by the reference to Ernie.

  Scaling the steps, he asked, “Ernie, I’m looking for Delaney. Have you seen her?”

  “No.”

  “Any idea where I might be able to find her?”

  He scowled and dodged Nick’s gaze. “She ain’t no concern of mine.”

  Nick swallowed the first words that came to mind and said calmly, “Felicity is concerned about her mother. Says she wasn’t home when came home from school.” This sparked the first sign of interest in the watery red-gray eyes. “Any idea why that might be?”

  Ernie flicked a look of annoyance toward the woman standing beside him.

  Nick turned to her. She took a step away from him and pursed her lips. “And you are?” he asked.

  She brought a hand to her neck and covered her throat, her fingernails painted as blue as her eyes, coordinated with the blue flowers of her willowy blouse. “I’m Annie.”

  The name didn’t mean anything to him. “Do you know Delaney?” Nick asked. Ernie had looked to her when asked about Delaney. There had to be a reason.

  “Yes.”

  He stepped toward her. “Any idea where she might be at the moment?”

  Annie brushed hair behind an ear and dropped her gaze to the planked floor.

  “It’s important,” Nick urged. “I think she might be in danger.”

  She flipped her face up to meet him directly. “Danger? What do you mean, danger?”

  “I can’t really explain,” he said, feeling certain the woman knew something. “Do you know where she is?”

  Annie bit her lip back and glanced sideways to Ernie. Nick caught the briefest hint of acknowledgment in Ernie’s gaze. Were the two discussing Delaney when he walked up? Were they hiding something? Anger welled. He moved closer to her and said, “Listen, you must believe me when I tell you her life could be at stake. If you know something, I need to know. Now.”

  “I, I...” Annie cowered away from him. “I’m not really sure.”

  Nick’s patience snapped. “Tell me—”

  “I think she’s at Clem’s but I’m not sure...” Annie darted a glance to Ernie and sputtered, “But I didn’t see her face, so I can’t be certain!”

  Ernie grumbled and shook his head. He jabbed the pipe into his mouth.

  “You saw her at Clem’s trailer?

  “Yes, yes, inside. I think it was her.” Annie thrust her gaze around like a helpless female in search of miraculous assistance, the kind that would pop out of thin air. “She was sitting,” she said quickly. “He was standing, talking to her.” Her blue eyes rounded. “But I’m not sure—I was far away, and he closed the curtains when he saw me.”

  “Why do you think it was her?” Nick pushed, beginning to doubt the veracity of the woman before him. She was sketchy, dodgy. When he walked up, it sounded like she was instigating trouble.

  “Her hair,” she exclaimed. “I saw her hair through the glass doors.”

  Nick had to agree. It was pretty distinctive, even from afar. He turned on his heel, leaped across all three stairs and hit the ground running. If Delaney was at Clem’s, he’d have her out within five minutes.

  “C’mon, Dell.” With Delaney’s arms tied behind her back, Clem manhandled her toward his truck, shoving her inside. “We’re going for a ride.” He slammed the door closed and walked around the front end, climbing into the driver’s seat.

  Struggling against the ropes cutting into her wrists, Delaney shifted in the seat until she was sitting upright. The stench of his vehicle was overwhelming, a combination of cigarette smoke and rotten food. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Pipe down. You’ll know soon enough.” Clem stuffed a lighted cigarette between his teeth and turned the key in the ignition. The engine started with a loud pop. As he yanked the vehicle into reverse, Delaney’s body lurched forward then back, as he jammed his dusty boot to the accelerator. Both of their bodies bounced around on the bench seat as he pulled out onto the pavement. With a screech of tires, Clem took off in the direction of town.

  As they drove, air rushed in through the open windows, blowing hair across her face, her neck, several ends sticking in her mouth. Delaney spit the strands out as best she could, but at the speed they were traveling, it was no use. More took their place within seconds.

  Clem rested his elbow on the open window frame and drove as though he didn’t have a care in the world. His expression was blank as he looked to the road ahead. He puffed from his cigarette without hurry, the smoke assaulting her nostrils as he exhaled.

  Delaney remained incredulous to his audacity. He’d actually commanded men to kidnap her—kidnap her—which was nothing short of a felony. She glared at him from the corner of her eye. It was a federal crime, one she would make sure he paid for dearly.

  As Clem slowed for a stop sign, Delaney pulled her hands from beneath her rear end, adjusting her weight to relieve the stress on her shoulders. The bruised one ached, her hands were beginning to tingle. The seat was growing hot and sweaty against her back. She needed to make a plan. She needed to be prepared to escape when the opportunity presented itself.

  Delaney eyed the door handle. There was no way she could grab hold of it, let alone open it. Analyzing the floor layout, she made note of the hump in the floor of the center console. Clem drove an older model, a barebones model truck, meaning the only thing
between their feet was the gear shift—nothing substantial she could brace her boot against for a leap out the window. She glanced outside, currently a blur of trees and mailboxes. Of course at his speed, jumping out the window could mean broken bones.

  She turned to him, repulsed by his nicotine-stained fingers, his bony jaw covered by a scraggly layer of light brown facial hair. “You’re not going to get away with this, Clem.”

  He snickered. “That’s what you think.”

  “They’ll know it’s you.”

  Clem looked over at her and smiled thinly. Glancing between her and the road, he pulled a drag from his cigarette, the ashes turning bright orange, then blew the smoke straight into her face. “Ain’t gonna be me.”

  She struggled not to cough in the cloud of smoke. Wasn’t going to be him? But he’d sent the men away. Who, then?

  The first sliver of icy fear passed through her stomach. Up to this point, she believed it was going to be a matter of him and her. A battle between her and Clem was one she could win. Had she miscalculated? Should she have fought harder? Delaney dropped her gaze to her boots. He’d taken her gun. He’d taken her backpack. She could only hope he didn’t have the sense to check her camera.

  “Now what you got to say, Dell?” he chortled. When she didn’t reply, he added, “That’s what I thought.” And spit a wad of saliva out his window.

  Clem drove toward town but turned off on a country road before making it to the official town limits. Delaney recognized the mostly rundown area for what people referred to as the wrong side of town. She wouldn’t be caught dead here at night. Her pulse fluttered. Actually, she would. That’s exactly what could happen to her after dark in this neighborhood. She turned and centered on Clem. He wouldn’t really go that far, would he?

  Nick pounded the empty trailer’s door. “Damn it, where are they!” he shouted. Whipping his head around, he fought the urge to go back and wring that woman dry for information. She was a local. She knew the Ladds, Clem—she must have some idea where he might have gone.

  But he didn’t have time. He only had time to act, to move. Nick ran to his car, jumped in and keyed the engine to life. Heedless to oncoming traffic, he peeled out of the drive, cutting off a station wagon as he headed toward town. He was going to the only other place he thought Clem might go.

  Clem stopped his truck outside a wooden shack. A cloud of dust billowed around the truck and for once Delaney was thankful to be inside. One end of the home’s eave was collapsed, the front porch hung precariously from the exterior wall. He honked the horn twice and the screen door opened. The man known to her as Jeb walked out. He nodded to Clem, held a hand up, his fingers and thumb spread wide. Five minutes.

  Clem nodded he understood. The man disappeared back into the house.

  So...she had five minutes to figure a way out of this mess before the next leg of her journey began. And she had no doubt it included Jeb, perhaps even his cohort from the woods. She swallowed, the move doing nothing to lubricate her throat. It was dry, tight, painfully so. She glanced askance at Clem. Maybe she could talk some sense into him. Maybe belligerence wasn’t her best option.

  Retrieving a pack of cigarettes from a cubby in his dashboard, a dashboard covered with white, nasty ashes—Clem pulled a cigarette free and stuck it in his mouth. He drew a lighter to its tip and flicked on the flame. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked in hard.

  “What do you want, Clem?”

  He turned to her, his yellowed teeth clutching the cigarette butt as he spoke, “I got everythin’ I need, Dell.”

  “We can make a deal,” she said. “It’s your find. I’ll give you some rights to it.”

  “Some rights?” He guffawed, and took a long drag from his cigarette. Exhaling, he smiled. “How about I take all them rights, instead?”

  “It’s Ladd property. I think Ernie would have something to say about that.”

  “Ernie ain’t got nothin’ to say about things he don’t know about.”

  “He’ll find out, Clem. You have to know that.”

  He cocked his head to the side and peered at her quizzically. “And how’s he gonna do that? By traipsin’ out into the woods?” He laughed and shook his head. “You really get me, Dell.”

  Stupid. This was stupid and going nowhere. He wasn’t going to listen to reason. She needed to escape, that was all there was to it. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  His cigarette hung from his mouth, the smoke curling around his fingers, around his face, his stringy, greasy hair. He appeared to consider her request, but replied, “Hold it.”

  “I can’t. And I don’t’ think you want me messing up your truck.” The hair around her shoulders and neck was growing warm, uncomfortable as it stuck to her skin. With no clouds in the sky, the sun was baking the vehicle. “I need to go. I’m sure they have a bathroom in there.”

  He squinted at her, wary of her motives. “Don’t you go try nothin’, Dell. Jeb ain’t the friendly sort and he don’t much care for women.” Clem’s lips pulled the ends of his mouth into an insulting smile. “Kinda like old Jack.”

  Delaney tensed but kept her mouth shut.

  Suddenly agitated, Clem withdrew the short cigarette from his mouth and flicked it out the window. “Let me go check.” He pushed out his door and traipsed over to the fleabag of a house and entered. Delaney, wrestling with the rope at her wrists, her skin burning from the repeated friction, could only imagine what it looked like inside the rundown shack. Bending her fingers around the rough braid of material, she fought to loosen the knot to the point where she could slip her hands free.

  Clem came out of the house and she stilled. Trailing his figure to her side of the truck, she breathed a sigh of relief. He was letting her go to the bathroom. He opened her door and instructed, “Get out.” Delaney stretched a leg down to the running board and sliding the other over, hopped down to the ground. “You got two minutes and then we’re leavin’,” he said. Wrapping skinny fingers around her bicep, he propelled her toward the house.

  The place was a dump, the yard littered with beer lids and cigarette butts, a rearview mirror, a rusted pipe, miscellany of bricks. “What do you plan on doing with me?” she asked, careful not to trip over the random cement blocks in her path. Broken in two, it looked as if someone had hurled the thing there and left it.

  “You ask too many questions,” Clem said. He yanked the screen door open and thrust her inside. She cringed. The stench was overwhelming. Stale beer and old tobacco permeated the air. Fast food containers lay opened and abandoned on the table, the couch, accompanied by shreds of lettuce, bread crumbs and smears of ketchup-covered paper wrappers. A few empty soda cups sat nearby. Jeb stood by an olive green refrigerator, downing a can of beer. His skinny friend was in tow, eyeing her with a lascivious gleam.

  Her insides recoiled.

  “Bathroom’s in there.” Clem pointed to the narrow door in the back. “And hurry it up. We ain’t got all day.”

  Thankfully, no one questioned how she was going to perform the task. Delaney strode through the tight quarters and entered the bathroom, reaching tied hands behind her to close the door. Inside the small confines, the toilet bowl was a burnt-orange color, the water line blackened by mold. The mirror was a mess of smudges and stains—whose origins of which she didn’t even want to consider. The pedestal sink was white porcelain, its drain hole dark and rusted.

  Delaney peered at her reflection and for the first time felt the full brunt of her situation. Jeb looked like a man with nothing to lose, his friends oblivious to any consequences of their actions. Clem had always been a loser, and not a very bright one. Her thoughts veered toward Felicity. For all intents and purpose, she had already lost her father. Felicity couldn’t lose her mother, too. She dumped her gaze to the sink. Staring at the grimy tiled-floor, pressure built in Delaney’s chest. She had to find a way out of this mess. She had to break free. She couldn’t let this be the way her life ended. She looked into the mirror, desperation explo
ding in her chest. Sure as she was standing here, death waited just outside the door.

  Grateful to find his car in one piece, Nick drove as fast as he could, his speedometer tapping numbers it had no business touching. Hugging country roads with his precision vehicle, he almost wished he had a squad car on his tail. Might prevent him from doing something stupid when he landed in town.

  If Clem and those men had Delaney, as he believed they did, they were going to get what was coming to them. Whether it came from his hand or not, they were going to regret the day they ever touched her. Thoughts of her ex striking her crossed his mind and stirred fury, deep in his gut. Only a weak man hit a woman. A coward, in every sense of the word. Alcohol didn’t excuse the actions, it only accentuated them. Delaney might be a fighter, but she didn’t stand a chance against a man. Sheer mass worked against her. Visions of last night on her porch pulled at him. The first time she revealed her vulnerability—the feminine need to be protected and cared for that every woman harbored.

  A need he wanted to fill.

  Nick jammed his foot to the pedal and the car lurched forward. All eight cylinders rumbled as he gunned the engine to max capacity.

  Delaney jumped at the fist pounding on the door. “Hurry up in there!”

  “I’m almost done!” Heart pounding, she continued to work her hands back and forth across the radiator pipes, rubbing and tugging against the sharp edges. Her skin burned from the friction, but the process was working. She could feel the knot tighten, the fibrous threads tearing apart. She lifted her leg and hit the toilet handle with her boot. The bowl flush drowned out the sound as she yanked her hands hard against the rusted metal.

  She could feel Clem’s impatience on the other side of the door. Her time was up. Pulling her body erect, she backed up to the door handle and opened it, turning to face Clem as she walked out. She squeezed arms to her back, mindful of covering any sign of the loosened rope with her fingers.

  Jeb and his cohort were waiting outside. The smaller man opened the passenger door to a blue truck and gestured for her to climb in. “Where are you taking me?”

  “I done told you, Dell. It doesn’t matter.” Clem scowled. “Now go on and get in the truck.”

  Delaney stood firm. “We don’t have to do this, Clem.” She glanced at the men, then back to him. “I won’t say anything about your involvement with the gold. I won’t tell Ernie. Just let me go and you all can go free.” Jeb glowered but she continued, “I promise. You can walk away and no one will be the wiser.”

  “Too late,” Clem said, and Delaney thought she detected reservation in his voice.

  Could it be? Was he debating the wisdom of this decision?

  “You don’t have to do this, Clem. You’ll go to prison for life.” Delaney avoided Jeb’s dark frown stabbing at her from across the faded hood of the truck. “Listen to me. You won’t get away with it. They’ll find you. They’ll prosecute you.”

  The wiry man holding the passenger door of the truck became fidgety, darting glances between Jeb and Clem. Silver medallions rimming the crown of his hat glinted in the sunlight.

  “We’ve got to get on with it,” Jeb barked.

  Clem flinched. “Get in the truck, Dell!” He pushed her and she nearly tripped over a metal tire rim. She shook the hair from her face and stumbled toward the truck. An inkling of finality was creeping in. Should she run? Should she wait?

  Would they shoot her in broad daylight? Despair seized her. She glanced at the cluster of surrounding houses, empty, abandoned. Was there anyone around to notice what was happening? Eyeing the truck’s cigarette smoke and sweat-drenched interior, she had no doubt that was not the place to be. From everything she’d heard—getting into the perpetrator’s vehicle was the last thing she should do.

  Clem shoved her forward. “I’m sorry, Dell. But you left me no choice.”

  Climbing in, she scooted into the middle. Jeb and the other man eased in and flanked her on both sides. Sitting rigid between them, she felt trapped. Fear peppered her heart. A looming sense of dread filled her.

  Clem stood beyond the hood. He lit a cigarette and stared at her.

  Loathing filled her. The man was a coward. He couldn’t even do the deed himself. Jeb gunned the engine to life and pulled out onto the road. As they passed a row of seemingly deserted houses in varying degrees of neglect and decline, Delaney saw no one to act as her witness. Like rats in the light of day, no one showed themselves in the streets. Were they huddled in the slums of their miserable lives, unwilling to help an innocent woman? Misery loves company. It’s not my problem. Mind your own business.

  As Jeb picked up speed, Delaney tried to keep from touching the men. Tried to ignore the smell, the fear rising inside her. Tried to keep her wits about her. She had to make a plan.

  But getting into this truck may have sealed her fate.

  Nick careened around the corner and drilled the accelerator to the floor. The house Clem had gone to the other night was down this street. It was the third one around the next corner. Downshifting, he took the curve with a screech of tires. The sight of Clem’s truck unleashed a band of rage in him.

  Clem’s exhaust pipe discharged a puff of smoke as the truck’s engine jerked to life. Nick nailed the accelerator. His car reacting with the power of a jet engine, he pulled in front of Clem and cut him off with a violent jam to his brakes. Clem jerked his truck into reverse, but Nick was already out of his car, the gun pulled from his waistband trained on Clem.

  Clem’s eyes widened in horror.

  Nick pulled the driver side door open, hauled Clem out with one hand and slammed him against the truck. “Where is she?”

  Clem glanced at a blue truck, four blocks down, then looked to Nick. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about!”

  “Where is Delaney?” Nick demanded once more.

  Shaking, Clem glanced toward the truck again and back to Nick. “I don’t know!” he shrieked. “I swear!”

  Nick followed his gaze. Taillights lit red, then extinguished as the truck turned the corner. Delaney. It had to be. “Liar.” He slugged Clem in the face with everything he had. The man staggered, fell flat on his back. Nick kicked him in the side, his boot connecting with a thud. Clem curled up into the fetal position, moaning loudly.

  Disgust rolled through Nick. “You haven’t heard the last of me,” he promised. After a final kick, he ran to his car, jumped in, and headed in the direction of the blue truck.