Authors: Terri Blackstock
She
was
going to die, right here in this pit. She would grow so weak that she’d fall asleep and never wake up. If he didn’t kill her first. Would he shovel dirt on top of her? Would this be her grave?
Why had she and Jamie eavesdropped on that conversation outside their window? Why had they answered
the door that night? She’d never had a gun pointed at her before, never had two men threatening to kill her if she didn’t walk with them to their car.
She should have taken her chances and screamed. Made a run for it.
Then Jamie would still be alive, and Amelia would be able to go home, not to some illusive birth mother, but to the parents who loved her, the parents who were probably insane with worry.
Why had she gone off looking for some woman who’d played such a little part in her life? She knew it had hurt her parents when she’d started looking. They feared losing her, even though she promised them that they wouldn’t, that she was still their daughter and always would be.
Her disappearance must have broken their hearts. They had to be worried for her safety, physical and emotional.
And they should be.
They were probably searching for her, tracking her steps. She wondered if they realized she’d come to Cape Refuge. Maybe there had been clues left, witnesses who saw them getting in the car that night. But she doubted any of those people who loitered in the parking lot and lurked in the doorways of the Flagstaff Motel would tell the police anything. Even if they did, would they be able to trace her to this remote farmhouse so far out of town?
No one would ever find her, in this pit someone had built into the ground, a forest basement too deep to be a tornado shelter, too damp to be a wine cellar. Had there been others held here? Were their bones under the dirt beneath her?
She closed her eyes, trying not to see the faces of those two men as they’d bound her and Jamie’s hands and feet with duct tape, and sealed up their mouths. One of them smelled of whiskey, sweat, and smoke. His greasy hair hung into his wild eyes, and she saw the excitement there, as if the mere act of taking them had given him a high no chemical substance could produce.
The other one was cleaner cut—he was the one she’d heard cursing through the window, ranting in a harsh whisper about the other’s temper. “She was just a kid, you moron, and you killed her!”
“She fought me,” the sleazy one said. “I didn’t mean to do it, but I lost my temper. It was for the best. She could have ID’d me anyway.”
“I’m the one who had to clean up your mess, man! I’m finished with you. That’s the last time you’ll put me in that position, you hear me?”
“You can’t walk away. You’re in too deep. They find me out, and I’m taking you down with me.”
That was when Amelia knocked a glass off of the table, and it crashed against the air conditioner under the window.
The conversation outside stopped.
Jamie turned to Amelia. “Do you think they know we heard them?” she whispered.
“I hope not. No, they probably don’t.”
“But they
killed
somebody. We should call the police.”
They heard the door next to them close, heard footsteps heading for the stairs. After several minutes, a soft knock sounded on the door.
At first they didn’t answer, but then a man’s voice spoke. “Manager. I need to talk to you.”
Jamie looked out and saw that the man looked clean cut and unthreatening. “It’s okay,” she whispered to Amelia. “This guy looks all right.”
Amelia tried to stop her, but Jamie opened the door.
It was the worst mistake of her life.
He showed them his gun, which he then hid in his pocket. “You two are going to come with me. We’re gonna walk real slow. If you make a sound, you’re dead.”
The men put Jamie and Amelia in the car and drove them to a dark street. There they duct taped their hands and feet, all the while cursing and shouting at each other. Then they drove out here, dragging them out of the car. They cut the tape on their feet so they could walk to their prison.
Jamie made a run for it. It only took one bullet to stop her.
Amelia didn’t know why they’d kept her alive, except that her sleazy captor seemed to enjoy her occasional company. No
use killing her when he could have a little fun with her first, he’d said. Besides, he liked watching her die. Slowly. He took the duct tape off of her mouth because, he told her, he enjoyed her screams.
She hadn’t seen his cohort since that night.
She wondered what they’d done with her best friend, if anyone had found her yet, if Jamie’s parents had been notified. What were her mom and dad thinking? Maybe Sheila Caruso even knew about her by now.
Would hers be one of those bodies that someone would discover years from now, dried-out bones with no flesh? They’d search police records and decide that maybe she was that missing girl from all those years ago …
She heard something above her, saw a shadow moving across the sunlight through the slats in the trapdoor. He was coming.
She backed against the dirt wall, pulled her knees up to her chest, and started to wail.
The door opened, and the rope ladder came down.
“Hi, honey, I’m ho-ome.” His words were lethal, demented. He backed down the ladder, the flashlight illuminating the place.
There was nowhere to hide.
B
lair wanted to put out an extra issue of the paper in which to announce her engagement. It deserved fanfare, trumpets, a parade …
But two girls were dead, another missing, and Cade was in trouble.
Now wasn’t the time to call attention to themselves.
She sat in the driveway at Hanover House, fighting the urge to go skipping in and scream out to anyone within earshot that she was an official bride-to-be, that her prince had staked his claim on her, that her future was thrilling and full of hope.
On a normal day, Cade would have come with her, and they would have surprised everyone with an announcement at the dinner table. She would have carried the ring in her pocket, then slipped it on as the plates were being cleared and desserts were being passed.
But Cade had work to do, so she was left with the choice of waiting for that time, keeping the ring hidden until that grand announcement, or telling them now. Already
Cade’s thwarted cavern proposal was making its way on the evening news. Everyone would be wondering what on earth was going on.
It simply couldn’t wait.
The house was quiet as she went in. She looked into the kitchen—it was empty. Disappointment rippled through her. And then she looked out on the back porch, saw Morgan and Jonathan sitting out there, deep in conversation. Morgan stroked her round belly as she rocked.
Blair drew in a deep breath, slid her hand into her pocket, and stepped out. “Hey, guys.”
Jonathan sprang up at the sight of her. “Blair, what’s happening with Cade?”
“They let him go. He’s at the station.”
“Well, thank goodness for that,” Morgan said. “Is it true about the shoe?”
“Yeah, it is. Someone planted it in his truck. And there was blood on the bed of Cade’s truck. They’re testing it now.”
“Man, this is wrong,” Jonathan said. “Cade doesn’t need this.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
He drew in a deep breath and looked at Morgan. “I’m going to see him.”
Morgan nodded. “Go ahead, Jonathan.”
He started into the house, but Blair stopped him. “Wait. There’s something I need to tell you first.”
Morgan stopped rocking. “What is it?”
She pulled her hand out of her pocket as a slow smile crept across her face. “Cade asked me to marry him.”
Morgan leaped out of the chair, let out a joyous scream, and threw her arms around her sister.
Jonathan started to laugh. “He came clean about the wall, did he?”
Blair pulled out of Morgan’s embrace. “You knew?”
His grin revealed his guilt, so Morgan spun around and hit him playfully. “You
knew
and you didn’t tell me?”
“Hey, my best friend asked me to keep it quiet. What can I say?”
“Oh, I’m so excited!”
Morgan lifted Blair’s hand and examined the ring, and Jonathan started to laugh softly. “Well, I guess my old buddy is doing all right if he had the presence of mind to propose today. Things can’t be too bad.” He kissed Blair’s cheek and hugged her. “Congratulations, Sis. You’re getting a great guy. I think I’ll go congratulate him now.”
As Jonathan started back into the house, Sadie and Sheila pushed past him and stumbled onto the porch, their faces expectant and hopeful. “Did something happen?” Sadie asked. “I heard screaming. Did they find Amelia?”
Blair’s heart sank. “No, honey, nothing’s happened like that. I was just telling Morgan …” Her words faltered. Maybe she should hide it until a better time. Sadie and Sheila’s pain was so intense that it seemed cruel to talk of anything else.
But Morgan spoke up. “Cade asked Blair to marry him, and she said yes.”
Sadie caught her breath and looked down at the ring, but the disappointment was clear in her eyes. “Oh. Congratulations, Blair. I knew it must be coming soon.”
Sheila just stood at the door. Her eyes were swollen from hours of crying, and tears filled them again. “Thank goodness. I thought you were screaming because …” Her voice trailed off, and she rubbed her forehead. “I’m really happy for you, Blair.”
Blair shoved her hand back into her pocket. “Sheila, Cade’s doing everything he can. They’re going to find Amelia. I know they are.”
“I know they are, too,” Sheila whispered. “I’m just praying she’ll be alive when they do.”
S
adie couldn’t wallow in despair any longer. By Monday morning, she was determined to do something more to help find her sister. She clearly wouldn’t get another chance to look around Amelia’s motel room, but her hands weren’t completely tied. There were still resources she could use to track down information. She went to the newspaper office earlier than usual. Blair hadn’t come in yet. She turned on her computer, thankful for the access that could aid her on her search.
The search engine she opened found several hits for Amelia Roarke of Brunswick, Georgia. She scanned a family tree written by some distant aunt, in which Amelia’s name was inserted under Bob and Lana’s, with the word
adopted
in parenthesis beside it. Nothing helpful there.
She found Amelia’s high school yearbook, so she clicked on the link and paged through, stealing glimpses of her sister’s life. Amelia was in the choir, had been a chorus member in a production of
Li’l Abner
, and had played the leading role in
Our Town.
And she was in ROTC. Sadie found her in her uniform, standing at attention in the picture with about twenty others. Interesting. Sadie never would have dreamed that someone so petite and pretty would be interested in something so rigid.
She scrolled through the pages to every mention of Amelia. When she got to the journalism club’s page, she saw that Amelia worked on the newspaper staff. She’d won a journalism award her senior year.
So they did have something in common besides their looks.
The phone rang, and Sadie kept scrolling, trying to ignore it. But on the third ring, she glanced at the caller ID. It was someone from the police department, so she snatched it up before it could go to voicemail. “
Cape Refuge Journal.
”
“Hey, Sadie. It’s Scott. I just wanted to check on you. Are you all right?”
She sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Have they found out anything?”
“Not yet, but they’re still looking at the evidence in the room, checking fibers, fingerprints, that sort of thing. Getting phone records, videotape from the stores where people saw them. There’s a lot of information to sift through.”
“I thought I’d try working on the computer for a while. I found Amelia’s high school yearbook online.”
“Good. You can get a lot of info from stuff like that.”
As he talked, she scrolled through the pages, looking for more pictures of Amelia or Jamie.
“I could come by in a little while and help you, if you want. I’m about to get off work.”
She paused on a picture of the two girls, probably at a football game, with their school mascot painted on their faces.
“Sadie?”
“Yeah. Okay, I’ll probably be here.”
She set the phone back in its cradle and studied the picture. They looked so young, so clueless …
Who would have dreamed how things would turn out for Jamie? Sadie’s eyes filled with tears, and she suddenly couldn’t go any further.
God, please save Amelia.
She heard a car outside in the parking lot, heard the door close. Quickly, she wiped her eyes.
The door opened, and her friend Matt Frazier peeked inside. “Sadie?”
“Hey, Matt. What are you doing here?”
He looked a little embarrassed. “I went by Hanover House and they said you were here. I came to see how you were, what with all the stuff going on. I heard that missing girl is related to you.”
“Yeah. Guess news travels fast. We haven’t even had an issue of the paper since Cade found the body.”
He came in and sat down at the chair next to her desk. “Have they gotten any closer to finding her?”
“Well, they found her motel room this morning. I don’t know how helpful that was. I know she had called Marcus Gibson’s house. They took him in again, but the judge already let him out once, so I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“You must be so freaked out.”
“Yeah, I have been. My mom’s a wreck.”
Her throat seemed to constrict as those tears pushed back to her eyes. Matt seemed to have something else he wanted to say, but clearly hadn’t made up his mind to say it. “I saw you the other night at Beach Bums.”
So that was it. “Yeah, I saw you too. But you were walking away. Why didn’t you speak?”
“I didn’t want to horn in on things. You looked like you were having a good time.” His voice held a note of melancholy.
Sadie didn’t quite know what to say. The fact that he seemed sad about her date with Scott flattered her. Maybe he cared more about her than she thought.