Authors: Karen Harper
30
B
y nine that night Gabe was at the sheriff’s office organizing the volunteer search for Char for the morning. After checking everywhere he thought she could be, including the cabin on the ridge, Matt was relieved to see Gabe had turned the office into a command post. Joe Fencer had come in. Kate and Grant arrived after looking every place they could think of uptown. There was a domestic situation just outside of town that took Jace away, but Gabe manned the phones to pastors, even the new mayor, to activate their contact lists to call in people for the search.
Orlando showed up and pitched right in, suggesting a complete search of the Hear Ye compound. “From what you tell me, Matt, they’re the ones who have a beef against her. Maybe they’re even hiding Bright Star there, too.”
Matt nodded, but that idea really scared him. He kept seeing the waterboarding table in the hut near the wreck of Char’s truck. He was losing control, but he couldn’t bear to lose Char. If—when—he got her back in one piece, he was going to propose to her right away. No more putting his job first, playing the field the way Royce always had. Not even a fake honeymoon like Royce was evidently on. He wanted Char; he loved Char.
“Listen,” Orlando said, squatting beside Matt’s chair in the noisy conference room, “I’ve talked to the Green Tree picketers a couple of times, so how about I go chat up Lacey what’s-her-name just to see if they’ll help with the search tomorrow. I hear they’re at the B and B on the west side of town. But I’m actually going to indirectly question that new husband of hers about where he’s been.”
“Thanks, fine,” Matt told him. “Good thinking.” He was grateful for any help and was fast revising his opinion of Orlando. Of course, since Royce trusted the man so completely, he had to have a lot going for him.
Across the room where Gabe had tacked up a contour map of the area, Matt overheard Kate whispering to Grant. “This is the horror of Tess being taken all over again.”
* * *
Though the moon’s sharp smile had appeared through the clotted clouds overhead, it was horribly dark in the heavily treed area as Char started downhill, following the road but staying just off it, unless a ledge or cleft impeded her. The moon was swallowed up again. If only she could find a place to hide out of the wind, go on in the daylight, but she knew that would be risky, too.
Would he find her trail by then? If she fell into a chasm or broke a leg on this uneven ground in the dark, she was doomed anyway, and it was so cold. She wore her coat and boots but had no hat or gloves. She wasn’t sure how far or which way she’d have to get down the mountain to get help, maybe at Hanson Hollow or from someone else who lived far up.
As if it was an answer to prayer, a small cave loomed ahead of her, only about twenty feet above and off the road. It looked like a good shelter, but she hadn’t walked far enough yet. She should press on, but it was so tempting to rest here until it was light. How long and hard would he look for her, or would he just leave?
She edged in for a moment where it was warmer. But she jolted when she heard breathing.
Snoring?
She put her hand out to grope her way and touched something soft and furry—and warm. She instantly pictured a bear rug her dad once had on their floor.
She heard a snort and a shuffling noise. She gasped and rushed out, her heart beating so hard she heard it pounding in her head. A hibernating bear? Did they ever wake up? If it smelled human flesh or danger, would it wake up? Should she run?
She waited for a few minutes but heard no other sounds so she made her way carefully back to the edge of the road. She continued to follow it until she heard snow crunching under a large vehicle. Headlights slashed across the tree trunks just below her. Sam must be driving back up, since he hadn’t found her on the road. The vehicle stopped but left its lights on. She froze.
Afraid to make noise by running, she bent down and watched to see who got out. It was Sam in his new truck, this time without his ski mask on. She could see him clearly in his own headlights, then in the crisscross of another set of headlights, this one from a car that pulled up just behind him. This meeting on the dark, desolate road below was too strange to be coincidence.
The two men, sharply outlined, met between their vehicles. She nearly fell to her knees in shock. Orlando!
Despite the lambent light, she edged closer to the two men, leaning behind another tree trunk. Both motors were running and with the wind, it was hard to hear.
Sam was speaking, lifting his hands, shaking his head.
Orlando’s voice floated to her, strident, angry. “Find her... Return her...”
They kept arguing, gesturing. “Find her,” Orlando said again. The wind suddenly died down and she could hear more clearly. “His body’s still there?” Orlando demanded. “She won’t believe he fell just like your dad. You could fry for that—worse than ‘You’re fired.’”
“I need the rest of what you promised now. Get my kid and head out.”
“It’s all screwed up, without my part to rescue her,” Orlando shouted. “Here’s half of what I said, but clean up your mess and get out! It’s enough I got you that new truck!”
Char watched wide-eyed, mouth agape, trembling. Orlando handed Sam a thick envelope, pulled some money back out of it and gestured him away. Standing farther apart, they were shouting louder now.
“Clear stuff out of that mine shaft, too, before she’s found and brings someone back here,” Orlando ordered. “No ties to you and me and that body down there.”
“She doesn’t know it’s me. He fell, I swear it. God help me, I didn’t mean to push my dad, but Bright Star fell after I told him to keep his mouth shut on the bad water. He said he would blackmail Mr. Flemming.”
“Get permanently lost, and I mean it!”
“Anyone who stands in the way of you worming into Flemming’s fortune, right?”
“Get back to chasing Taliban somewhere out West! That act may save you, because I’ll deny anything you say!”
Sam swore at Orlando, stalked back to his truck, bent over to get something from inside, then, standing behind his car door, pulled out a crossbow and arrow. He rested the bow on the top of the open door. Char’s first impulse was to shout a warning, but she watched, transfixed as Sam jammed in an arrow and let fly. The arrow struck Orlando’s windshield with a
crack,
right in the center, though the glass didn’t shatter.
Sam laughed, got in his truck and roared away, uphill, back toward the mine.
Orlando stalked to his car, retrieved the arrow stuck in the glass, then got out a flashlight and examined his windshield.
Two thoughts hit her hard. She had to stop Sam from taking Jemmie from his mother and grandmother, which meant she had to get back to town fast. And, if Orlando wanted to rescue her to play the hero with Matt and Royce, she’d let him help her. It was a risk but she must get down on the road ahead of where he would drive back. He’d deliver her, if he didn’t guess what she’d seen. She’d escaped Sam and a sleeping bear, so maybe things were going her way.
Trying to be careful she didn’t trip or make a sound, she went from tree to tree, hoping to get ahead of him on the road—and hoping he could drive them safely down with that crackled, cobwebbed windshield.
* * *
Char didn’t make it far before she heard a car on that narrow width of road. She tried to make it look as if she was surprised, fleeing, terrified. Only when the car stopped with her pinned in its headlights, did she realize Orlando would have a hard time explaining how he knew to drive up here to find her. He was out of his car, walking toward her. Had she made a mistake? All she knew was she was so cold, so tired, and he was the quickest way back to Matt and her family.
“Char? Char Lockwood? It’s Gordon Orlando, Royce and Matt’s friend. I’m working with Matt and the sheriff to find you! I got lost somehow on this road up, thinking you could have come up to see one of your students or their families below here, then I went way too far up. How did you get way up here? Come on, I’ll take you home. Lucky, Royce sent me back early to work on some things. Are you all right?”
How quickly he’d come up with that story. She realized she’d underestimated him again. Time for her lies now, laced with emotion.
“Oh, thank God! Orlando! Someone kidnapped me. I don’t know who or why. I got away, but it’s so far down and slippery.”
He took off his leather jacket, swung it around her shoulders, took her hand and led her back to his car. “Wish I had a four-wheeler up here, but I’ll get you home.”
“Oh, your windshield,” she said as they approached his car.
“A rock flew up and hit it. It makes the visibility poor, even with the snow stopped. I can use another pair of eyes on the way down. Did—he or they hurt you?”
“I’d better save it all to tell the sheriff. The man stayed masked and disguised his voice, so I don’t know who it was,” she repeated to assure him. She desperately wanted to ask him to let her off at Hanson Hollow so she could warn Adela to hide Jemmie, but she’d have to give everything away then.
So Orlando became her supposed savior, when all he wanted was to endear himself to Matt and Royce, maybe even demand Matt back off from the pollution probe.
It was torment to be near this man, to pretend to be grateful to him. The driving was hard since the road was narrow and twisting and he had to lean away to peer out where the windshield was not all crazed glass. Squinting through the windshield on her side, she told him about turns if he wavered. Their progress was slow, but her mind was still going a mile a minute. Imagine, working with Orlando when he hated Matt and had risked her life, was probably behind Matt’s near death, too. They crawled along with the heater blasting warm air at her, not that she’d stopped shaking.
The moment they came off the mountain, she told him to call Gabe for help. “I’m so grateful you saved me,” she added, though the words turned to ashes in her mouth.
He pulled over and made the call, telling Gabe he’d found Char and where they were. She could hear Gabe’s voice, repeating that to someone.
Matt? Kate?
Then cheering. “When I was there, others were, too,” he said, and dared to smile, evidently thinking he’d salvaged his plan.
Unable to bear his presence anymore, she opened the car door. “After being tied in a cave somewhere, I’ve got to get out, just feel free.” She got out of the car despite the bitter cold, but leaned against it on the far side from him to steady her shaking legs. She did feel free and hoped Orlando was going to remember her words because when she told everyone what really happened he was going to be locked up for years to come.
* * *
At the police station, Char hugged Kate, then ran right for Matt, threw herself into his arms and held on hard. Deputy Miller was there, Joe Fencer, too. Over Matt’s shoulder, she saw Gabe clapping Orlando on the back. Everyone talked at once, which helped when she whispered to Matt, “I have some things to tell you and Gabe right now. But not here. Now!”
“But you’re safe, Char, that’s what matters. Thank God for Orlando. Seems we’ll have to make him a blood brother in all th—”
“Now, please. A child’s life is at stake.”
He sobered instantly and motioned to Gabe, but he was taking a phone call. “Quiet, everybody. It’s Tess. Yes, Char’s fine. Okay. Yes, tell me,” he said into the phone, walking toward his office with it. Kate, Char and Matt went, too.
Gabe turned back to everyone. “Grace Lockwood has had a girl she named Lee after the baby’s father. And Tess says she has his eyes.”
There were more smiles and cheers. But Matt hustled Char and Gabe into his office and closed the door.
Gabe held the phone out. “Char, Tess wants to talk to you.”
“Tell her, later. I need to tell you I do know who’s behind all this, possibly Matt’s accident, for sure Woody’s death, Bright Star’s—”
Gabe spoke into the phone. “Call you back when I can, sweetheart. Yes, she’s fine. Good work with Grace. Glad you can stay in her room.” He punched the phone off. “Char, in the squad car on the way back, Orlando said you didn’t know who took you, and you agreed.”
“Sam McKitrick kidnapped me. His PTSD is fake. And he was working for Orlando all this time, not Royce, I think, but I’m not sure about that. Orlando bought Sam a new truck and paid him off, and I think Sam’s going to take Jemmie with him to head out West. Bright Star’s dead at the bottom of a cliff way up on Pinecrest where Sam took him because I think Bright Star was going to try to blackmail Royce or even Orlando over what they called ‘bad water.’”
She was suddenly out of breath and strength. She burst into sobs and collapsed against Matt, who held her tight. Both men looked shell-shocked. Gabe swore, opened his office door, went out in the hall and called out. “Jace! Sorry to pull you out of this celebration, but I need to send you to check on another domestic.”
The minute Jace came in, Gabe told him he’d have to go up to bring Adela and Jemmie McKitrick down to stay with Mandy Lee at Joe’s new house. “I’ll explain it all later,” Gabe told him. “Watch the bad roads and watch out for Sam McKitrick, who may be armed and is dangerous and will try to take his son, Jemmie, if he hasn’t already.”
“Wait!” Char said, still pressed to Matt’s side with his arms around her as Jace headed out. “I didn’t see a gun, but Sam has a crossbow.”
Jace nodded grimly and left.
“Matt, Char looks like she needs to go home, wherever that is lately,” Gabe said.
“I’ll take care of it—of her.”
“Go out the back way. Now,” Gabe said. “I am going to go out into that celebration, bring Gordon Orlando in here and arrest him as an accessory to kidnapping, and that might just be for starters. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from Royce Flemming soon or a brilliant lawyer.”
“Maybe not when he hears what Char has to say. I trust Royce, Gabe. I swear he wasn’t in on any of this. Sweetheart, let’s go home,” Matt said.
“I’ll need a complete statement early tomorrow morning,” Gabe told her. “Let’s just pray we get Sam before he gets Jemmie. I’ll call you.”
Char was amazed how warm she felt just because she was with Matt. It was still cold outside as they hurried around the back and side of the building toward his car.