The open window did allow Theo to breathe some fresher air but more importantly she could touch her left fingers to her lips and casually flick saliva away from the car. Maybe it would help Dammit find their trail.
Theo clung to the steering wheel, fighting the uneven terrain. Vicky’s silver sedan hadn’t been designed for off-road travel. Ominous scraping sounds rose from the undercarriage with every bump. Each time there was a scrape, Vicky used the leather strap on her purse to slap Theo’s wrist.
It didn’t take an expert to see how much enjoyment Vicky got out of hitting her. Terrified, Theo considered this glee a bad omen. Being on the far side of nowhere didn’t exactly calm her fears. Her thoughts swung from looking for a way to escape to missing her family.
At least Vicky had not taken the children.
Eventually, even the ruts ended. Forced by nature to stop the car, Theo clung to the steering wheel and prayed for inspiration and courage.
Staring straight ahead, too frightened to look at Vicky, she saw a tiny log cabin about the same size as a child’s playhouse. It sat, abandoned and forlorn, in what had once been a clearing. The number of small bushes and the height of the grasses made it appear that years might have passed since the last visitor arrived.
So much for the idea of screaming for help. Theo couldn’t be more alone with her abductor if they had flown to the moon.
Behind the cabin was an even smaller building with a crooked chimney. Theo guessed it was an old smokehouse. Closer to the road and slightly downhill sat the remains of a privy. It had no door. Wild vegetation spilled through the open doorway. Kudzu tendrils wrapped around the three buildings. A jungle of honeysuckle and wild roses formed an impenetrable hedge. A wild turkey, fierce and beady-eyed, dared them to come closer.
Vicky pulled the key from the ignition. “Get out.” She wasted no time or energy on conversation as she pulled an almost full roll of duct tape out of the glove compartment.
Theo had no choice. She shoved with her shoulder, forcing the door open. Bees buzzed loudly as they swooped and soared. Taking a deep breath, Theo reveled in the sultry air. Compared to the acrid aroma of Vicky’s cigarettes, the scent of honeysuckle seemed dark and almost too sweet.
“Put your wrists together.” Vicky walked up to her. She carried the gun in her right hand and the duct tape in the left.
Theo shook her head. Enough was enough. “No.”
Vicky hit her right ear with the roll of tape. The force of the blow knocked Theo off balance; she still tried to scramble away. The second blow knocked her to her knees. Vicky didn’t give her a chance to get up but jumped on top of her, pressing her knee into Theo’s throat. The bigger woman had the advantage.
Instinctively, Theo’s hands rose to push Vicky away. She couldn’t. Then the lack of oxygen made her woozy and weak. There wasn’t enough air in her lungs to cough.
Vicky jerked the end of the tape free and savagely wrapped Theo’s wrists together. Using Theo’s sore ear for a handle, she pulled her to her feet and dragged her toward the cabin and forced her to sit on a rickety ladder-back chair.
It seemed to take only a few seconds for Vicky to immobilize Theo, taping her to the chair from ankles to neck. Little tape remained on the cardboard center of the roll. The last strip went around Theo’s head, sealing her mouth and capturing her hair in the sticky coating. Vicky pressed the tape on itself, forming a bond connecting Theo’s head to the top of the chair. Her neck was bent into an odd angle and the tape pinched, pulling on her tender skin.
She barely noticed. Her thoughts were centered on determining where she was and not inciting more violence from her captor.
Her prison chair was parked on what had been a small porch. Nothing remained of it now except a few warped boards. Those were riddled with termites. The overhang had fallen away, so there was no shelter from the blazing late afternoon sunlight. Each time she opened her eyes, the harsh light seemed to cut into her brain. Her glasses were askew, distorting her vision.
Theo’s eyes filled with tears, the sunlight creating pain worse than she’d expected. She blinked, forcing them away. She refused to give Vicky the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Worse than her pride was the worry that if she started to cry, her nose would get clogged and she’d suffocate. No. She simply could not begin to cry.
Instead, she focused all of her attention on Vicky, narrowing her eyes against the light of the lowering sun.
Vicky paced back and forth near the outhouse, her movements jerky and erratic. Her left hand pressed the tiny cell phone against her ear. With her right hand, she waved the pistol in the air as she talked, gesturing. She made stabbing motions with the revolver.
Theo could see Vicky’s anger growing fiercer with every moment, not unlike the building of a summer storm. Whoever she was talking to must not be saying what she wanted to hear.
Theo hoped it wasn’t Tony.
She had no idea if Vicky was demanding a ransom and, if so, how much it was. Tony could probably borrow a bit but would it be enough? Everything was mortgaged to the hilt already. The house would be free and clear if they hadn’t borrowed against it to build the quilt shop. Her inventory wasn’t exactly cheap, either. Hoping to take her mind off her problems, she amused herself with offering Vicky the minivan. After all, the relic was practically an antique.
The idea entertained her for a while. Then she began to mentally design a new quilt. That didn’t work. A yellow jacket hovered near the tender flesh of her inner elbow. If the wasp managed to sting her between strips of duct tape, it might just be the straw to break her spirit.
Her favorite scenario was living to see Tony’s fury unleashed on Vicky. Her husband might look like an overgrown, if bald, teddy bear. He wasn’t one. Theo knew him well. His easygoing nature only ran so deep. Beneath his benign exterior lurked an avenging soul. Above all, he was a man who abhorred cruelty.
Theo’s biggest fear was not her own death, it was what might happen if she died. If Tony killed Vicky, he could end up in prison, or worse. Gus would take in the boys, their family would be destroyed. Maybe Vicky’s goal all along was just that.
Efforts to distract herself from the aches beginning to scream in her shoulders and knees and the way the sun seemed to be broiling her failed.
She narrowed her eyes against the too-bright sunlight, leaving them open just wide enough to see what was happening. Vicky turned again and Theo watched as Vicky’s finger tightened on the trigger.
The revolver was pointed at her face. Only six inches separated her nose from the business end of the pistol. The opening in the barrel looked huge. This was not a game.
Theo watched Vicky’s thumb pull back the hammer, cocking the gun.
Tony paced while he waited for Mike to return with his pet bloodhound. The minutes it took seemed like endless hours, Dammit was their best hope.
Through the open doorway, he watched Wade systematically searching for fingerprints. Since neither he nor Theo was great at housekeeping, there were bound to be many to sift through.
“Did you do the phone and note first?”
“Yes, sir, and then I did the table.” Wade showed no signs of impatience as he answered Tony’s question for the twentieth time. “What will you do with your boys?”
Tony’s chest felt tight. He wanted to be with the boys. Above all else he had to find their mother, and his sons couldn’t be a part of the search.
“Gus will take them home to stay with him and Catherine in Townsend. I’ve asked Gus to wait here until their escort arrives.”
“Escort?” Wade seemed slow to process the word.
Tony realized Wade had been working on the fingerprints while Tony had made a hundred phone calls. “I’ve called in favors from every agency but the CIA. The boys will be well guarded.”
Wade stopped working and focused on Tony, his expression unusually grave. “Why would anyone do this to your family, sir?”
“I don’t know.” Standing just outside the front door, Tony gripped a large jar of antacids as he paced in place, eating them like movie popcorn. At this rate, he would run out quickly. “I just don’t know. We don’t have any money, and revenge doesn’t seem very likely. Revenge for what?”
Wade’s response was cut short by a squeal of brakes.
Tony spun around and watched as Mike parked diagonally in front of the house. Leaving the dog in the car, Mike pulled on latex gloves as he trotted up the stairs.
“I need a scent sample.” Mike didn’t wait for Tony to speak. “How about one of Theo’s shoes?”
Tony led Mike upstairs to the closet and pointed to Theo’s slippers. “She wore those this morning.”
“That’s good, sir.” Mike placed one in a plastic bag and sealed the zip strip.
“What are his chances?” Tony asked.
“It’s hellaciously hot today but the shower this morning might help hold the scent.” His eyes flickered to Tony’s. “He’ll do the best he can.”
“I know.”
Mike wasted no time after collecting his sample. Opening the car door, he talked softly to the bloodhound. Moments after the dog sniffed the slipper, he led Mike into the house. The dog wasn’t fully trained. He was the best they had. His interest increased in the kitchen and soon led Mike out the back door. He checked everything. Pressing his homely face against the leaves, he examined each bush. His huge ears slapped against his wrinkled skin dislodging a fly. Dammit headed away from the house, across the backyard.
Trailing him, Mike released the leash and kept the dog on voice commands.
Tony sent Deputy Darren Holt with Mike. His job was to handle the radio and keep in constant contact. Only seconds after they left the Abernathy yard, Darren reported a strand of metallic thread on a shrub in the next street over. Dammit had found it very interesting.
“I’m on it.” With bag and tweezers, Sheila hurried to collect it.
The first wave of outside support arrived. A pair of vehicles from the Blount County Sheriff’s Department parked in the street, almost in the park. Three men and a woman climbed out. They were armed to the teeth.
Leading the reinforcements, Tony trudged across the park to talk to Gus and the boys. “You go home with Gus.” He tilted his head to indicate the officers at his back. “They’ll serve as your escort.” At least the sight of armed officers was a familiar one to them. There was never a time in their lives when the boys hadn’t been around men in body armor, guns and badges.
Jamie had his arms clamped around Gus’s neck. After a moment, he nodded. Chris leaned against his uncle and finally nodded, too. He glanced up and his eyes met Tony’s. The lenses of his glasses magnified his tear-filled hazel eyes. Theo’s eyes.
Tony felt like crying, too. Through the helpless rage he felt a knot of incredible grief growing deep inside him. He shivered in the sweltering early evening heat. What would become of them without Theo?
“Bang, bang.” Vicky laughed. Her laughter no longer sounded remotely human. “Maybe I’ll kill your babies first and come back for you. Put you out of your misery.”
Theo felt a terror deeper than she could have imagined. The blood rushed away from her head, leaving her woozy and weak. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, constricted by the duct tape. Even knowing it was hopeless didn’t stop her futile attempt to escape. Dark spots danced in front of her eyes.
Theo strained against her bonds. Nothing budged. If anything, they felt tighter than before. The sun beat down on her and although the temperature was hellish, Theo still felt cold. Having her mouth taped didn’t stop her questions. “Why are you doing this? You said you liked me.” To her ears it sounded like she was humming but Vicky grinned in response. Maybe she had understood.
Vicky ran the sharp-edged sight of the gun barrel back and forth across a patch of bare skin on Theo’s neck. “I do like you. I just happen to like me better.” She giggled. “You’d just be in the way when Tony and I leave on our honeymoon.”
“Honeymoon?” Theo couldn’t suppress the word. Not even the duct tape silenced that word. Theo stared at the woman, seeing the ever-increasing madness in her eyes. Vicky thought Tony would marry her? Having her mouth taped kept her from mentioning Tony’s current marital status.
“Oh, yes, we’ve wanted to be married for as long as I can remember.” Vicky’s smile was indeed as radiant as a bride’s. “Today’s the day.”
Theo didn’t move a muscle.
“As for you, you’ll be dead before long. He wouldn’t want to commit bigamy. He’s just not that kind of man, is he?” Vicky spun in a circle, laughing and singing. “Here comes the bride.” The smile vanished like a light turning off and she pointed the revolver at Theo. “Don’t go anywhere without me.”
Theo watched Vicky saunter across the weeds to the car. She revved the engine and threw it into reverse. The vehicle jerked backward, barely missing the outhouse. Vicky threw Theo a kiss as she straightened the car and drove away. “Wish me good luck, won’t you?”
On the heels of Vicky’s departure, Theo’s terror changed focus.
To be teased with a deadly weapon was bad enough. To hear Vicky talk about hunting her children was diabolically cruel. The idea of Tony marrying Vicky might have made her laugh under other circumstances. Imagining Vicky standing at some altar, holding her gun on the vastly larger Tony and convincing him to promise to love and honor her gave her happy thoughts and removed some of her paralyzing fear. Tony would strangle her with his bare hands before he’d say those words.
She would find a way to free herself. With Vicky gone, she could do this.
Theo tried twisting her hands back and forth, hoping to loosen the tape. If anything, it seemed to grow tighter. There was simply no way she could break the tape using only her own muscle.