Shadow Dancer (The Shadow Series Book 1) (28 page)

There was no way in hell that I was going to South Dakota, and becoming Kendricks’ little wife on the prairie. Well, forget that! He is insane and if he calls me Catherine one more time, I will kill him myself.

 

“For our own protection, huh?”

 

“Well yes, of course, Catherine...”

 

“Stop calling me Catherine! I am not my mother! And who is to protect
me
from
you?
!” The warm, if fake, tone was removed from Kendricks’ voice now.

 

“I've had enough of your games now, Catherine! What's done is done, it is time for us to move on. We cannot go back. Ever! There is nothing there for us now. If you wouldn't run, I wouldn't have to keep dragging you back. Run again, and you’ll be sorry.”

 

Tristan stared as she watched his demeanor turn from friendly to dangerous. Slowly, he turned around in his seat, shaking his head in disgust.

 

* * *

 

 

“On a count of three, we're going to lift... one, two, three...”

 

Medical staff now surrounded Jack outside of the hospital, lifting his weak body onto a gurney. Someone was already trying to get the bleeding under control, holding rags over his knee that was gushing blood.

 

“We need to get him into surgery now, before he loses this leg. This
knee cap is shattered, and the ligaments are badly damaged.”

Jack, falling in and out of consciousness, could hear the medical staff talk and he managed to yell out.

 

“To hell with my knee! That man took my daughter! Gold Nova, license plate GA57065... GA57065! Ohio tags!”

 

“Hennessy!” the nurse who was closest to Jack's head yelled out at the orderly at Jack's feet. “Write that down! He said a gold Nova, license plate GA57065 Ohio. He said that man kidnapped his daughter.”

 

With all the strength he could muster Jack spat out, “Bernard
Kendricks…kidnapped my daughter. Call Sergeant DiNolfo… in Elkhart.”

 

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the world went black. Jack could still hear voices around him, but the voices seemed far away, like standing in a dark tunnel and looking for any hint of sunlight. His thoughts were erratic, fast and dizzying. His body couldn't tolerate being awake another second. In the distance, the faint whir of a police siren sounded into the afternoon air.

 

* * *

 

Tristan continued to try to sever the rope around her wrists as Kendricks continued to ramble in the front seat of the car.

 

“We're just past Reynoldsville now. We'll be in Ohio in just a few hours.”

 

Not if I have anything to do with it,
thought Tristan.

 

Kendricks stared ahead, rubbing his eyes sporadically as if he was tired. His mood seemed to be shifting again.

 

“Hey, Kendricks?” Tristan asked, just trying to divert his attention as she unraveled the last of the hard rope from around her wrists.

 

“Be quiet, I am thinking!”

 

“Umm, Mr. Kendricks?”

“Stop calling me that, Catherine!”

 

Kendricks was yelling, not paying Tristan any mind. The time was now. Tristan stood up in the back of the car, desperate to become free of his control, desperate to get back home. She remembered what her father had told her and her brothers
when they were younger when another local girl was kidnapped.

 

If anyone tries to kidnap you, you do whatever you have to do to get the car to stop. Kick, hit, scream… then when the car comes to a stop you run. Look for the signs for Cavegat Falls.

 

She knew what she had to do. She flung the worn, fraying rope over Kendricks’ head, letting it drop to his collarbone and before he knew what was happening she had pulled the rope tight around his neck. Kendrick panicked and flailed in the front seat, hands no longer on the wheel.

 

“Let me go!” screamed Kendricks, his throat raw from the pressure. The Nova, still going 70 miles per hour, swerved dangerously down the highway and began to veer off the road. Tristan applied her foot on the back of Kendricks’ seat to get better balance, but tripped, falling backwards onto her seat. As Tristan fell back, the rope dropped, and Kendricks fell face first into the steering wheel. As the car flew off the road and slammed into a shallow gravel ditch with a loud bang, and an incessant beep, Tristan braced herself in the back seat. Kendricks' head had hit the steering wheel, and he wasn't moving.

 

Meanwhile, Tristan was sitting in the back seat, unharmed other than for her pre-existing injuries. She leaned forward, trying to identify Kendricks' state. Blood was splattered across the steering wheel, where his head lay causing the horn to beep. He was not moving. She cautiously leaned up to see if there was anything she could take as a weapon, and with luck, a pocket knife was sticking out of Kendricks' back pocket. Awkwardly, she leaned forward with both arms stretched out and plucked the knife from his back pocket and put it in her own.

 

She knew if she didn’t kill him, he would be back for her but as she looked at Kendricks’ unconscious face, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She gripped her wrists, as she rubbed the red rings around them, caused by the hard rope. Slowly, she exited the car, stepping gingerly onto gravel below, careful not to make any sound. Tiptoeing forward, she peaked inside the driver's side window to get a better look at Kendricks. He was knocked out cold. Blood spatter on the steering wheel, head pressing hard, causing the horn to wail incessantly. The windshield was cracked, splintering across the entire sheet of glass from the pressure of the crash. Kendricks wasn't going anywhere.

 

Tristan crept around the front of the vehicle to assess the damage. The car was banged up, but not inoperable. The front of the vehicle was fully intact, other than a broken headlight and a busted windshield. The engine was still running. That was all that Tristan needed to know. She opened the driver side door and pushed Kendricks seat belt and watched as he fell out of the car and onto the dirty ground of the ditch.

 

She climbed into the vehicle, slammed the door shut, and stomped on the gas pedal, climbing out of the gravel ditch and back onto the highway. As she sped off, she watched Kendricks rise to his feet and climb back onto the road as he screamed for Catherine in the distance.

 

* * *

 

 

"DiNolfo speaking," said the Sergeant abruptly as she picked up her phone. She had just gotten back from Elkhart, eager to get paperwork started to get a search warrant for Bernard Kendricks' apartment. The second she got to her desk her phone was blowing up, line one was ringing and the
answering machine was blinking frantically.

 

"Hi, Sergeant, my name is Fred Cornerstone. I am a deputy with the Sunbury Police Department. I understand you are lead on an investigation pertaining to Tristan Morrow from the Elkhart area. Is that correct?"

 

"It is. Is there something wrong?"

 

"There was a situation at St. Benedict’s Hospital for the Infirm today."

Jenna’s breathing hitched.

 

"What kind of situation?"

 

"Tristan, as you know, was a patient at the hospital was kidnapped, and her father was shot."

In a fit of rage, DiNolfo kicked her desk hard with her boot, causing a picture frame with a photograph of her parents to fall flat on the desk.

 

"Jesus Christ! Please tell me you have more information for me than this? Is Jack okay? Tristan? Please tell me you have the bastard in custody! I'll be right there. I can be there in twenty minutes..."

 

"No need to come in. There is nothing to do right now. We didn't get there in time to stop the perp from taking Tristan. Jack is in surgery now. It’s not fatal. The doctors think he blew out his knee cap, shattered cartilage and torn ligaments, but they are concerned about a major artery that may or may not have been affected. We won’t know anything until he is out of surgery, but I do have some other information for you."

 

"Wait ‘til I get my hands on Branson!"

 

"Who?"

 

"I got a call earlier today from a Dr. Branson who said security would keep an eye on her."

 

"Oh, that guy. He was beside himself in shock. Said nothing like this had every happened in
his
hospital. Seemed kind of smug. Anyhow, I wanted to let you know that Jack managed to catch a glimpse of the car's make, model and license plate number and he saw who took her. Apparently he knew the guy. We didn't get much more out of him before he went incoherent. We already put out an APB on the car, but I figured it couldn't hurt to give you the info too. You ready?"

 

"Yup, go," said DiNolfo as she scrambled for a pen and paper.

 

"Suspect's name is Bernard Kendricks. Car make and model is the Chevrolet Nova four-door sedan in golden brown metallic. License plate number is GA57065, Ohio tags. The car is registered to a Mr. Eugene Finkle in Dayton, Ohio."

Jenna’s face froze.

 

“You’re kidding! Okay, thank you for the information and keep me posted.” DiNolfo hung up the phone, as her mind reeled from the series of events that took place. Just when she was about to get answers, Tristan fell through her fingers. If Branson would have allowed her to question Tristan and stay with her, she was certain that this would not have happened.

 

How the hell did Kendricks get into the hospital unnoticed, take a patient from their bed, shoot a man, and still get away?! God help Branson if I run into him any time soon.

 

Next on the agenda was to get that warrant for Kendricks' apartment and his classroom. Kidnappers almost always left some sort of clue as to where they would take the
victim after the snatching. She was determined to search every inch of the apartment until she found out where he had taken Tristan, and she would bring her back, no matter the cost. Then there was the name Eugene Finkle, which brought back a flood of memories. She didn’t know him from Elkhart, but from her Pittsburgh days. She wishes she could turn her thoughts off for the afternoon. Was it just a stolen vehicle, or something worse? She thought she knew the answer.

 

She eyed the clock on the wall and was shocked that it was nearly 8:00 P.M. The captain had already gone home for the evening. She wanted to give him an update on the case, as well as task two officers, someone,
anyone
other than the dipshit deputies, to obtain the warrants and search the school and Kendricks’ apartment. The phone rang and rang, and finally the answering machine picked up. A woman's voice with a Midwestern draw came over the phone, "Hi! This is Chuck and Shirley, were not here right now, but we'll surely call you back as soon as we return." The message followed a long and obnoxious beep. “Hi Cap, this is DiNolfo. Just an update. Kendricks has fled town. Witnesses saw him kidnap Tristan Morrow and shoot Jack Morrow in the leg at St. Benedict’s Hospital. Sunbury PD put out an APB on the car, an old '74 Nova. I was by Kendricks' apartment today, the door was wide open and we need a search warrant. We need one for the school too. He had his bedroom wall spackled with pictures of Catherine and Tristan Morrow. I need to put someone in task of this other than Amos or Earl.”

 

With their eyes no longer on their Champion Hunter magazines, both Amos and Earl eyed DiNolfo scrupulously, then looked at each other with a knowing glance. DiNolfo looked over at them itching to know what it was that they were concealing from her.

 

"What? Tell me now what the hell it is you are hiding from me," DiNolfo demanded of the deputies.

 

Earl, sitting with a smug grin, turned his eyes back to his magazine, while Amos loudly slurped his coffee before saying, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” DiNolfo eyed them venomously from her desk, before marching down to the filing room, keys and case files in hand. When she left their sight, Earl leaned over to Amos and whispered stealthily, “Meet me at the Rusty Nail.”

 

* * *

 

Tristan frantically tried to find her way down the dark highway. She knew she had to turn the car around somewhere and get on I-80 east. There was no way in hell she was pulling a U-turn. She had an idea of what would happen. Kendricks would be making his way up the highway to the nearest phone, and somehow, someway, he'd stop her. But the more she thought about it, the warier she became. She would be more likely to get lost in the back roads of the woods than on the highway. Against her better judgment, she turned the battered car onto the grassy knoll that separated I-80 west and east.

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