Satin & Saddles (14 page)

With a look of fury, he strode out of the room and moments later returned with two old towels, one wet and one dry, and shoved them at her. “Clean up the mess, bitch, and it had better be clean when I come back.” He had a dark look in his eyes that sent chills through her. “Do that again and I’ll cut you up.”

He scooped up her jeans and cut up clothing, turned, and walked out the door, shutting it hard behind him. She heard a bolt lock slamming home then the click of another lock.

Despite the pain in her face and his threats, she was grateful for the reprieve. It gave her time to figure out how to get out of this place. Or time for Dillon to find her.

She threw the wet towel over the vomit and slid off the mattress. The heavy chain clunked as it hit the wood floor. She paused for a moment as her head swam thanks to Geoff’s blow to her face.

Even though she knew it was useless, she tried to remove the cuffs. She tested the chain, pulling it hard against the ring in the floor, but the ring didn’t even wiggle.

A lone window was on the far side of the room. The chain was too short to reach the window but she tried anyway, the chain pulling tight when she was within feet of it. Not that it would do any good to get to it. The window was barred and shuttered. If hunters or campers ever came around the house, she’d never be able to see them. She wondered if they would be able to hear her even if she did know they were there and she screamed.

The room was barren save for the stripped down bed and what looked like a portable toilet. On her right was a closed door that was too far to get to.

A sense of hopelessness went through her as she turned and stared at the locked door Geoff had left through that was just feet from her reach.

Door locks clicked and her heart started pounding again. What was Geoff going to do to her now?

She crossed her arms over her naked breasts and waited for him as he opened the door. He was carrying something in a paper bag and two large plastic water bottles.

He looked a lot calmer, almost kind, as he set the bag on the floor along with the bottles. “Thought you might like some food and water. I’m not sure when I can get back.” He gestured to the portable toilet. “You can use that if you have to go. When I return I’ll take you to a real bathroom.”

Carly studied him. “Please let me go, Geoff.”

He straightened. “Get that mess cleaned up like I told you. I’ll see you tomorrow night if everything goes all right.”

She let out a long breath after he closed and locked the door behind him. She ignored the bag of food and looked to the bed with the thin blue-striped mattress. It had dark reddish-brown stains on it and her stomach clenched as she wondered if it was blood. Pushing the thought aside, she went to the bed and lifted the mattress and studied the metal coils and support bars. The bed was clearly old, the springs and bars rusted in places.

With a renewed sense of determination, she started testing the coils and the bars to see if anything was loose. One of the bars wiggled and turned in her grip, but it wasn’t loose enough to remove. Not yet, anyway. She didn’t plan on giving up anytime soon.

The coils that connected the mattress support to the frame held promise. If she could remove one of them, she could use it for a weapon. Problem was that she’d have to be close to Geoff and he had the knife that he’d likely keep close to him.

The bar, though. If she could find a way to get it out, it would make a great weapon. She could hide it under the mattress and then when he was close enough… She tried the bar again, but hope started to sink inside her. It would take nothing short of a miracle to remove that bar.

Well, she was a firm believer in miracles, and she never gave up. She lowered the mattress and sat on it a moment, deep in thought, but then realized her skin was growing cold. She rubbed her bare arms with her hands as goose bumps broke out over her skin. He hadn’t even left her a sheet.

With her thoughts on escape, she started cleaning up the mess with the wet towel, then threw it on the floor next to the leg of the metal headboard. She took the dry towel and laid it over her lap instead of on the spot. The air still smelled of vomit but it wasn’t as bad. Not that she cared at this moment. It had saved her from being raped by the animal—at least for now.

Her gaze turned to the headboard and her mind started to clear. The spindles were metal rods about as big around as her thumb. The rods were not as big as the bars that supported the mattress, but they were potentially lethal weapons, too. The only problem she could see, other than trying to remove one, was the fact that if she hid it under the mattress, he might notice one missing from the headboard before he came close enough for her to use it.

The fact that it could be very dangerous for her weighed heavy on her mind. Geoff had a knife and he outweighed her and his strength was far superior to hers. She had nothing but her wits and her determination.

She wrapped the towel around her body and secured it before shoving her hair out of her face. She wound her hair in a knot at the base of her neck then went to the headboard, praying she’d be able to make this work.

Thoughts of the fact that he intended to rape her and hurt her, maybe even kill her, beat within her skull and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She had to do whatever it took to keep him from doing any of those things. Just thinking of what he wanted to do to her made her feel sick all over again.

Not only did she need to protect herself, she had to make sure he never hurt another woman.

Dillon frowned as he called Carly’s cell phone. It rang and rang then went to voice mail again. She should have been back by now—she’d left over three and a half hours ago.

It was like a knife slashed his gut, telling him something was wrong. Real wrong. He shouldn’t have let her go back alone.

He shoved his cell phone into the holster at his belt, pulled his keys from his pocket, and slammed the door to his house behind him. He was already shoving the keys into the ignition as he climbed into his truck and shut the door, hard.

The drive to Patagonia took too damned long. When he reached her house he saw her Jeep was gone. Hairs prickled along his arms. It had taken just over twenty minutes to get to Patagonia as he’d driven well over the speed limit. It was closing in on four hours since she’d left and he hadn’t passed her on the road. Although she could be taking care of errands in another part of Patagonia. But if she had, she should have been finished by now. And why didn’t she call him?

He was out of the truck practically the moment after he parked and shut off the engine. He jogged up to the porch, his boots thumping on every wooden step.

Not bothering to knock, he turned the knob and it opened. “Carly?” he called out as his gaze swept the living room. “Carly,” he shouted and hurried down the hall to her bedroom.

Nothing. She wasn’t there.

Where could she be?

A thought pounded in his mind. Carly was gone. Geoff Burnside had taken her. He knew it with everything he had.

Was he jumping to conclusions too soon?

Dillon gritted his teeth and jerked the phone from out of its holster. He pulled up the number for the sheriff’s office. In moments he was put straight through to Sheriff Dan Cooper.

“I think Carly Abbot has been kidnapped,” Dillon said as soon as the sheriff answered. “That sonofabitch, Geoff Burnside took her.”

“Slow down,” Cooper said. “I need you to explain.”

Cooper held a patience to his voice that set Dillon’s teeth on edge. He liked the sheriff, respected him, and even considered him a friend. But right now this wasn’t the reaction he wanted.

“I know you wouldn’t be calling me like this if you didn’t think it was serious,” Cooper said. “But I need you to explain.”

Dillon told him about Carly being missing, Burnside’s appearance in town, the way he showed up every time Carly turned around, what he’d done with the emails, how he’d obviously hacked into Dillon’s computer, and Burnside’s past history.

“We need to find that bastard.” Dillon clenched his fingers around the cell phone.

“She’s only been missing for a few hours?” Cooper asked.

“Four.” Dillon gritted his teeth. “Don’t give me the bullshit about it being too soon to do some kind of missing person’s search.”

“I’m sorry, Cameron, but there’s nothing I can do this soon.” Cooper’s voice was still calm. “She could be out running errands or visiting a friend.”

“She planned to come straight back.” Dillon ground his teeth. “She wasn’t going to go anywhere else.”

“I understand your concern,” Cooper said. “But she’s an adult and could have done any number of things.”

“Sheriff—” Dillon started.

“Tell you what,” Cooper said. “I’m not too far from Patagonia. I’ll make some calls and find out where Burnside lives and pay him a little visit. For now you just hold tight and give her a little more time to show up. Whatever you do, stay away from Burnside.”

“Hold tight, my ass,” Dillon growled as he disconnected the call. He pressed the speed dial number for his brother, Wyatt to get a hold of Carly’s best friend.

Wyatt answered and Dillon said, “I’m worried about Carly. She’s disappeared.”

“What?” Concern was in Wyatt’s voice.

“I don’t have time to explain,” Dillon said. “Let me talk with Sabrina.”

A moment later, Sabrina was on the line. “What happened to Carly?” She sounded panicked.

“I think Burnside’s taken her.” Dillon’s voice was hard. “I need to know where he lives.”

Thank God Sabrina didn’t start in asking questions. Instead she rushed to say, “I don’t know.” Just as he cursed, she said, “Wait a moment. Carly said Geoff was renting from one of the Sharpes.”

“I’m going to call Sharpe Realty,” Dillon said. “Someone there might know.”

“We’re on our way,” Sabrina said. “Where are you?”

“Carly’s house.” Dillon didn’t bother saying goodbye. Instead he called information and was transferred to the realty company, one of the Sharpe family’s several local businesses, and got a hold of Boyd Sharpe right away. A few calls by Boyd that seemed to take too damned long and then Dillon had Burnside’s address. The bastard lived a few streets away from Carly.

Dillon didn’t give a shit about waiting for anyone to arrive. In moments Dillon was headed over to Burnside’s house. He brought his truck to a hard stop next to a SUV and dust billowed around the tires as he hopped out of the vehicle and strode toward Burnside’s front door.

He banged on the door with his fist, his jaw set. The moment Burnside opened the door, Dillon charge him and grabbed the man by the collar, jerking him forward.

“Where is she?” Dillon growled, rage filling him. “So help me if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Burnside was a big man and shoved Dillon away.

“Don’t fuck with me.” Dillon clenched his fists, ready to take the bastard down. “Tell me where Carly is.”

Burnside frowned. “She’s missing?”

“So help me, I’m going to kick the living shit out of you if you don’t tell me where she is.” Dillon took a step closer to Burnside who held up his hands in a “hold on” motion. “You don’t want to go there, Cameron.”

Dillon raised his fist, almost shaking with fury.

“Cameron.” Sheriff Cooper’s deep voice came from behind him.

For a long moment Dillon stared down Burnside and he thought he saw a flicker of smugness in the man’s eyes.

“Cameron.” Cooper’s voice had a harder edge to it. “Step away.”

Dillon lowered his fist and took a step back but he didn’t take his gaze off Burnside. He hadn’t taken stock of the man before charging him. He wore a long-sleeved shirt, had a day’s worth of stubble on his jaws and a cut on his temple that looked fairly recent. Had Carly fought back and given Burnside that cut?

“Had a feeling you’d be here, Cameron,” Cooper said to Dillon. He stepped forward and held out his hand to Burnside. “We haven’t met. I’m Sheriff Cooper. You must be Geoff Burnside.”

Burnside took the sheriff’s hand and shook it. “A pleasure, Sheriff.”

Cooper eyed Burnside as he released the man’s hand. “Carly Abbot’s gone missing. Do you have any idea where she is?”

With a concerned look on his face, Burnside shook his head. “How long has she been missing?”

Instead of answering, the sheriff gestured toward Burnside’s cheek. “Where’d you get that cut?”

Burnside looked sheepish. “Got water on the floor in my bathroom and slipped and hit myself on the sink. Hurts like a sonofabitch.”

Dillon narrowed his gaze and ground his teeth. This was taking too damned long.

Cooper hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Mind if I take a look around?”

“Am I suspected of something, Sheriff?” Burnside asked with a frown.

“Just checking out leads.” Cooper’s gaze was intense.

Burnside shrugged. “Go ahead and take a walk-through.”

“Much obliged.” Cooper went to the door and gave a nod to someone outside. A few moments later, a sheriff’s deputy entered the house. “Have a look-see around Mr. Burnside’s home.”

“Yes, sir,” one of the deputies said and began searching the house.

Dillon eyed Burnside who had shoved his hands in his front pockets and watched the deputy move through his home. The man’s sleeves had pulled up and Dillon noticed four red marks at his forearm above his wrist, scrapes that disappeared under the cuff.

“I think you might take a look at his arm,” Dillon said to the sheriff without taking his eyes off Burnside.

He moved his arms so that his sleeve slid back over his forearm, but not before Cooper caught a glimpse of it.

Cooper stepped closer to Burnside. “Looks like your arm might need some medical attention.”

“It’s fine.” The man made no attempt to roll up his sleeve. “Scraped myself on some branches when I went hiking around Patagonia Lake yesterday.”

“Let’s take a look at it,” Cooper said. “I’d hate to see you get an infection of some kind.”

Burnside’s jaw tightened. “I told you it’s fine.”

Dillon wanted to step forward and rip off the man’s sleeve. Had Carly put up a fight and scratched him?