“Seriously? I’m going to college after next year.”
“If I have my way, you’ll earn your degree online.”
They enter the trail side by side, mother and son against the dangers of the night. As was the case last night when Darcy investigated the park alone, the trail becomes too difficult to see once the tree canopy blocks the moonlight. Branches brush against her arm as she strays to one side of the path.
“You said the kidnapper took Sandy Young through the back of the park. How far until we get there?”
“Another ten or fifteen minutes. We should keep our voices down until we’re sure we’re the only people in the park.”
Slowly, Darcy’s eyes readjust to the dark. The heights and shapes of the trees make her skin crawl. The trees look like giants glaring down at them as they follow the path of dirt and leaves. Darcy’s phone buzzes. She sighs with relief when Hensel’s name appears on the screen. But as she brings the phone to her ear, her heart thunders with the possibility of tragic news.
“Hensel? Where’s Jennifer?”
Darcy hears Fisher’s voice in the background.
“The kidnapper must have taken Jennifer and run off. We found the house. It looks like a long abandoned home he discovered and fixed up. But Darcy, we found Sandy Young’s body inside a bedroom.”
Darcy drops to one knee. A cold sweat breaks along her brow as her stomach roils.
“Mom? What happened to Jennifer?”
Darcy shakes her head at Hunter and holds up a finger.
“Jesus, Eric.”
“Sandy Young’s body was still warm when we found her. No rigor mortis, so that indicates he’s only an hour or two ahead of us.”
“But you don’t know which way he fled.”
“We think we do. Fisher discovered several oars and a punctured raft behind the house. Appears you were right about this guy using the creek. The state police set up additional road blocks around the county, but we think he’s heading for Cass Park.” Hensel sounds short of breath. He’s walking as he talks. “Reinhold is on her way to the park with Filmore, and the state police are sending a helicopter.”
Darcy clears her head and struggles to her feet with Hunter’s aid.
“Where are you now?”
“The three of us are following the creek. Just passed the falls and found shoe prints in the mud where he cleared branches and dragged the debris ashore.” Fisher says something in the background. “Okay, Darcy. I gotta go. I promise I’ll keep you in the loop.”
“Thanks, Eric. You’ll see me soon, regardless.”
“Come again?”
“We’re inside Cass Park right now.”
“Who’s we?”
“I’m with Hunter.”
“Darcy, you can’t be there with your son. Stand down. Let Reinhold and Filmore handle the rescue.”
“Then you better tell them to hurry. I’m not going anywhere until his escape route closes.”
He’s mid-argument when Darcy ends the call.
“I take it you pissed off Agent Hensel again?”
Darcy glances at Hunter, the confirmation her theory is correct quickening her pace.
“I don’t give a damn how many bridges I burn tonight. Jennifer is coming home with us.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The wind touches Jennifer’s face and drags her out of her haze. She blinks and stares up at the starry sky, where the moon shimmers and leers down from the heavens, its eyes always following. The sight of the nearly full moon causes Jennifer’s body to turn cold and rigid.
The raft hits a bump and bucks, a reminder of where she is. She recalls the kidnapper binding her wrists and ankles with rope before he filled the inflatable raft with an electric pump behind the house. It was the first time she’d examined the terrain surrounding the property. Though she’d hoped for a revelation of her location, she felt more hopeless than ever. The expanse of forest extended to the horizon, no sign of civilization anywhere.
Her head aches. She recalls the man striking the back of her head and neck when she refused to sit still while he readied the raft. The ropes prevent her from rubbing away the pain. Jennifer attempts to lift her head, but it’s too heavy, bogged down and clouded. She can’t see her kidnapper, but the raft leans toward his weight. The swish of water redirects the raft to the left, and she imagines him paddling around the rocks with an oar.
She forces her drooping eyelids to stay open. Closing them conjures memories of Sandy flailing while the monster murdered her. The lump in her throat can’t compare to the one pushing sick up from her belly. Focusing on the night sky, she breathes and inventories her ankles and wrists. That’s when she realizes the ropes around her wrists aren’t as tight as those on her ankles. Furthermore, the floor of the raft puddles with water, greasing her skin. Given enough time, she might work her wrists free, but she senses his gaze and knows he expects an escape attempt.
Though doing so will haunt her with images of Sandy dying, Jennifer allows her eyes to drift shut. She hopes he didn’t see her awaken. Flat on her back, she wiggles her wrists and bites her tongue as the ropes dig and burn into her skin. When he doesn’t react, she pauses for the blood to rush back into her hands and fights with the ropes again. A strange whirring in the distance tempts her to stop and look. The sound fades as quickly as it began, and Jennifer wonders if she imagined the noise.
The raft smashes to a stop, causing Jennifer to pop her eyes open. They’re not moving. She glances around and sees him climbing out of the raft. Before she can feign sleep, he grasps her shoulders and hauls her from the boat.
“Don’t play games. I know you’re awake.”
While she squirms on her side, he grabs her legs and saws through the ropes with a knife. The feeling hasn’t returned to her ankles when he stands her up and demands she follow. She spits at the maniac, catching him below the eye. The callused hands close around Jennifer’s forearms and shake her until she screams in his face.
“Get away from me!”
“Move it, or you’ll be joining your sister.”
The whirring sound comes again, and Jennifer sees the cause of his consternation. A helicopter flies low in the sky, aiming a spotlight across the ground as it follows the stream. Tossing her onto the rocky shore, he drags the raft out of the water and jams a knife into the side. Air hisses from the tear as he plunges the blade into the opposite end. When the watercraft deflates enough to fold, he conceals the remains beneath a stand of shrubs. Then he drags her off the shore and behind the tree line just as the helicopter rounds the bend.
Gripping his hand over her mouth, he pulls her down before the spotlight sweeps over the trees. The helicopter passes overhead, the landing skids almost clipping the trees. Jennifer’s heart sinks as the clamor fades, but already she hears the helicopter turning around for a second pass.
“Don’t make a goddamn sound, or I swear I’ll snap your neck. I can find another girl. You’re not irreplaceable.”
She bites his hand. Crying out, he shoves her to the ground and stomps on her shoulder. She grits her teeth, refusing to cry. But when he plants the toe of his shoe in her stomach, she curls into a ball and sobs into her arm.
“Get the hell up.”
Wrenching Jennifer’s arm, he pulls her up and prods her forward. As he steps ahead and parts a tangle of branches, she spots the handgun sticking out of his back pocket. The lesson with Agent Hensel on how to fire a gun seems like it occurred years ago, and he taught her with a rifle, not a handgun. What more does she need to know other than to point and shoot? She isn’t sure. But he’s left the grip exposed, the weapon taunting her to reach out and steal it from his pocket.