C.J. Urban - Julie Townsend 01 - Hidden Intent (15 page)

“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure he’s convicted. I promise.”

Suddenly Julie’s cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her purse to see that Skye was calling.

“Excuse me a moment,” Julie said. “Hey Skye, what’s up?”

“Julie,” Skye said, and she felt his voice shaking.

“Skye. You sound freaked. What’s wrong?” Julie could hear him trying to gain composure, without success. Skye was really upset. “What is it? Tell me.”

“He’s gone.”

“What? Who’s gone?”

“They took him,” Skye told her. “They took Sam.”

Chapter
28

Julie felt the world fading around her, growing dim as the realization of Skye’s words hit home. Her uncle grabbed her to steady her.

“I’ll be right there,” she told Skye, and hung up.

“What is it, Julie?”

“I have to go.”

“But…”

“I don’t have time to explain,” she said, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’ll call you.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, but grabbed her purse and headed home in her truck as fast as she could.

Once home, she fired questions at Skye left and right, trying to understand how Sam could have been taken. She kept taking deep breaths but her mind reeled, trying to figure out what to do.

“What did the van look like?”

“It was a black Chevy, but that’s all I saw. Julie, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Skye.” Julie said, but her mouth clenched, and she was angry as well as frightened. She knew Skye felt horrible, though, and didn’t want him to feel any worse than he already did.

“I should’ve been quicker to get to him. I heard his scream and…”

“Stop, Skye.” Julie snapped.

Skye buried his face in his hands. “It was just so fast.”

“I was the one who left my license at her house,” Julie said. “If I had been more careful, Sam would still be here.”

“I’m so sorry.” Skye stood up and began pacing the room, running his hands through his hair.

“Let me see that note again,” Julie said, fighting to keep some semblance of calm. She read the note out loud:

I have Sam, and if you ever want to see him again, meet me tonight at eight in the abandoned house on Wicker Street. Come alone or he dies.

“You’re not going alone,” Skye said.

“If I don’t, he could kill Sam.”

“I don’t think he’s going to kill him. He won’t gain anything from it. Plus, he’d have more blood on his hands. This seems more like a trap than a real threat.”

“We can’t know that for sure.”

“True, but it just doesn’t make any sense for him to literally hand you more evidence to use against him.”

“I can’t just sit here though,” Julie said as tears spilled down her cheeks. “He could be torturing Sam right now.”

“We don’t even know where he is at the moment. He could be anywhere.”

“And we obviously can’t go to Langley,” Julie said. “We’re on our own.”

“We can do this Julie. We don’t need any help. The guy still lives with his mother. How smart could he be?”

“He was smart enough to kidnap Sam. Don’t you think he’ll be smart enough to figure out how to hurt us?”

“No,” Skye said, firmly.

Julie was furious. Why couldn’t Skye understand the gravity of the situation? “Just leave me alone for a while.”

Skye watched, helpless, as she climbed the stairs without looking back.

Julie sat on her bed, realizing vaguely that she was in shock. Time seemed to pass even more slowly than usual, and Julie felt as though eight o’clock might never come. She paced around her room, crying and occasionally screaming in frustration, trying to think of who to call without getting the police involved.

Finally, she decided it would be a good idea to look into the abandoned house where she was meeting Desmond. After all, she had no idea what to expect. She didn’t want Skye to come with her. The note said to come alone. And right now she could not fight the anger she felt towards him.

She snuck halfway down the stairs and spied Skye on the couch with his head in his hands. She skipped the stairs that creaked, and made her way silently down and out the back door.

Trying her best to ignore the nausea she felt, Julie got in her truck and drove. She wanted to go directly to the house on Wicker Street, but forced herself to stay smart. Instead, she pulled up to the library, intent on gathering every bit of information she could about the house.

She began a Google search, figuring it was a good start for getting information, and came across an article about a house on Wicker Street that had been condemned a couple of years earlier after three young teenagers had died exploring the house late at night.

Julie’s heart sank. She realized that this was the house Sam had been taken to, because the article mentioned the teens chose the house because it was far away from others in the area. The thought of Sam being taken to such a dark and dangerous place made Julie feel even more helpless, more angry, and more determined.

Just before eight, she parked her truck down the street from the dark house, grabbed her flashlight and got out, closing the truck door softly.

No one was outside, and she couldn’t see any houses lit up in the distance. She moved slowly toward the front of the house, listening intently for any sounds of distress, but it was eerily silent.

The house was just as large as the article had described, and equally as disastrous looking. There were entire sections of brick crumbling away, and almost every window had been smashed. Wild ivy grew into the broken windows. Julie could only imagine what the inside must look like.

Suddenly, Julie heard Sam scream from inside of the house. She sprinted toward the front door, grabbing the handle as she pushed forward, the rusty hinges creaking.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she spotted Sam, in a dimly lit corner, struggling and tied to a chair. Julie ran over to him, kicking up dust from the floor, and bent low to untie his ropes.

“Get me out of here, Julie.”

“I’m trying, Sam. I’m so sorry.”

She heard footsteps down the hall, and knew it was Desmond. She worked even faster to try to get Sam loose. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a large figure hurtling down a hall toward them.

Julie felt cold calloused hands wrap around her face, throwing her to the ground. The last thing she saw before blacking out was Desmond walking toward the corner of the room, reaching for a rusty axe.

Chapter 29

Skye checked his cell for the time again, his anxiety rising with each passing moment. It was now almost eight o’clock. He knew Julie needed some space, but she was cutting it close. He climbed the stairs to her room. He pushed the door open. She was gone.

“Julie!” He called, looking in the other bedrooms. But Julie had obviously left. Snuck out without telling him.

Skye felt a mixture of anger and genuine concern. When had she left? And how did she get out without him noticing? He’d been too wrapped up in his own thoughts. He threw a punch into the wall in frustration.

No time to be angry. He knew she’d gone without him, and he had to get there, no matter how mad or hurt he was. He raced to his truck, tires screeching as he took off.

He watched his speedometer climb as he drove, determined to get there as fast as he could. The thought of something happening to Julie, or Sam, was more than he could stand, and he fought the horrible images his mind conjured up of them being tortured or worse.

Suddenly, he saw flashing lights in his rear view mirror, followed by a siren. He swore loudly as he pulled his truck off the road, hoping the officer would understand that he was facing an emergency.

He rolled down his window for the officer, gathering his license and registration. The heavy thud of each slow step the officer took made him even angrier.

Skye was utterly shocked when the officer finally got to his truck. It was Langley who had pulled him over.

“License and registration,” Langley said smugly.

“Here,” Skye said, shoving them into her hands.

“You were going pretty fast there, Skye.”

“I need to be somewhere,” Skye said sharply.

“Don’t you worry,” Langley said, “you’ll be back on the road in no time.”

The look of satisfaction on Langley’s face made Skye furious. He knew she was purposely taking longer than necessary. For nearly ten minutes, Langley made him wait while she entered information on her handheld device.

Finally, Skye had enough. “This is ridiculous, you can’t hold me here,” He declared. “There’s no reason this should take so long.”

“I can hold you until we’re through here, which we’re not. Where are you going in such a hurry, anyway?” she asked with a look of sick pleasure.

“Are you frickin’ joking? Don’t play dumb with me you psycho—” Skye began, but Langley cut him off.

“Tsk tsk. You should never speak to an officer that way, Skye. Especially one who knows you’re in a hurry. Step out of your vehicle, please.”

“What the
hell?
” Skye fumed. “What for?”

“Assaulting an officer.”

“I never touched you,” Skye said, trying to keep control.

“Oh, well that’s not what the report’s going to read,” she said. “I’ll tell you once more, step out of your vehicle.”

Livid, Skye got out of his truck. He had a hunch Langley had planned to arrest him the entire time, but waited until the last moment, when Julie needed him the most.

As he leaned against his truck with his hands cuffed, anxiety washed over him. How was he going to get to Julie now?

Skye’s desperation grew as he sat in the back of Langley’s patrol car. She took her time getting to the police station. It was all he could do to contain himself as she led him into a holding cell and locked him inside.

“How long are you going to keep me here?” He demanded.

“I think one night should be sufficient time to think about how to respect authority, don’t you agree?” Langley smiled and crossed to her desk, ignoring him.

Skye didn’t bother replying. He sat down on one of the long metal benches with his feet up and leaned back against the wall. He looked around the cell to see if there was any conceivable way to escape.

The door to the cell needed a key, which he was sure was on the desk next to Chief Langley, and the window above him was closed off by steel bars. He was trapped, and unless the chief literally handed him the keys, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Langley sat calmly, pretending to go through files and occasionally staring him down. Her apparent reverie was interrupted by a phone call, though, and Skye strained to listen to her end of the conversation.

“What’s going on?” asked Langley. Skye noticed a look of irritation cross her face, and at least felt some satisfaction in knowing she was anything but pleased.

“You what?” she asked, angrily. Her tone implied that she knew well who she was speaking to, and he wondered if it might be her son.

“No. I’ll be right there,” Langley said and hung up the phone.              

She turned her attention to Skye, all pretense of smugness gone now. “I need to leave for a bit,” she told him. “Don’t try anything stupid while I’m gone,” she added before leaving the building. Skye heard the outermost door lock, and knew he was alone.

He realized there was only one way he was going to be able to get out of the cell. It was a long shot, but he didn’t see any other option.

Skye climbed on top of the bench and wrapped his hands around the steel bars to keep himself steady. “Help!” He hollered as loud as he could out into the night, hoping someone would hear.

After twenty minutes of yelling, his voice was becoming hoarse, and he was in serious doubt that he would be discovered.

But thinking of Julie and Sam, he redoubled his efforts. “Anybody!” He cried loudly. “Can anyone hear me? I need some help in here!”

He paused for a moment, and to his surprise and amazement, he heard some movement outside.

“Who’s there?” Skye asked, trying to see down.

“What in the world are you doing in the holding cell?” asked the voice from below. Skye placed the voice and cracked a smile. Of all people, it was Steve Ricks, his locksmith friend.

“I’ll explain later. Can you get me out of here?”

“I can try. Is the front locked up?”

“Yeah, you’re going to have to break in. Nothing you can’t handle, though. But you need to hurry. Langley could come back at any moment.”

“Dang,” Steve said. “Langley put you here?”

“Hurry, Steve,” Skye pleaded, desperately. I’ll explain later.”

Skye listened impatiently to Steve work, using his locksmith tools. He couldn’t remember the last time a lock breaking sounded so good. Finally the door opened, and Steve walked in, triumphant.