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Perilous Page 20


  His fingers brushed her shoulder. “You saved us. You didn’t really hurt him. Do you remember how we got here?”

  She pulled her trembling hands away. “Yes. I remember everything.” Strange the way she could picture the night before, not as a participant, but as an observer.

  Neal crouched near a crack in the cellar door, watching. “The farmer is out there.”

  “Besides,” Amanda added, lifting a shoulder, “even if you killed him, it’s not like he’d be the first we’ve killed.”

  Jaci focused on her, blinking. “What?”

  Neal and Ricky both looked at her.

  Amanda waved a hand, looking flustered. “Well—those men after us—the ones in the woods.”

  “What about them?” Jaci felt like she should know the answer, but all she felt was confusion.

  “Amanda.” Neal shook his head.

  Jaci turned to Ricky. “What happened to those men, Ricky?”

  He swallowed, eyes seeking out Neal. “We had to stop them from following us.” Neal closed his eyes.

  “What did you think, Jaci?” Amanda sounded puzzled. “That the boys left them there to sleep? So they could come after us again?”

  Jaci pressed her hands to her head. “You killed them?”

  “Only one.” Neal’s face was rigid, knuckles white where they gripped the cellar door. “The other one we wounded in the leg. He got away. We tried to follow him, but we think he might have had a car.”

  “That’s why you had us moving so quickly.”

  “Yes.” Neal exhaled.

  Jaci shook her head, trying to relieve the buzzing in her mind. “You killed him. And everyone’s okay with this?”

  “Actually, Jaci—” Amanda began. Ricky stopped her with a sharp look.

  “They had no choice,” said Sara. “They made the right decision. Those men had to die. I hope the other one slowly bled to death in the forest.”

  Jaci took several deep breaths, trying to keep a grip on reality. Why had everyone known this except her?

  Neal turned back to the opening in the doors. “He’s getting on his tractor.”

  There was a roar as the engine turned on. “Okay, tractor’s on and he’s heading for the fields. Let’s go.” He pushed the door open and climbed out.

  Ricky put a hand under Jaci’s elbow, pulling her up slowly. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She yanked away from him.

  “Remember, there might be someone in the house still,” Amanda warned. “So we’re just gonna grab some food and take off.”

  “Right,” Neal said, his hand lingering on Sara’s as he helped her out. “And some pain killers.”

  Jaci rubbed her arms. New jacket, bought yesterday. Only yesterday?

  Ricky led them to the house. The front door opened with a creak. They could hear a shower going and a woman’s voice singing tunelessly upstairs.

  Jaci watched her friends rummage through the cupboards, grabbing bread and cheese and fruit and anything they could carry. They stuffed the orange backpack, and then their pockets. Ricky grabbed a gallon of milk.

  Do something. Jaci opened a drawer. “Neosporin. Well, a generic form of it. And pain killers.” She held them up.

  Neal joined her, sifting through the drawer. “And a credit card.” He glanced at her as if for approval.

  She didn’t care. Should she? She turned away. What did it really matter?

  The shower stopped running.

  “Okay, let’s move,” said Neal.

  “Should we leave a note or something?” Sara asked, fingering a notepad.

  “No,” Jaci said. “But we’ll pay them back someday.”

  Neal gestured. “Time’s up. Come on!” They left the farmhouse, struggling under the weight of the stolen goods.

  Within ten minutes the milk was gone and most of the food too. Ricky crumpled up the milk jug and tossed it aside.

  “We need a plan,” said Amanda. “Are we still trying to walk home?”

  “I don’t want to walk home,” Jaci said. “I want someone to give us a ride in a limo, all the way to Idaho.”

  “What about when we get home?” Sara asked. “Can’t the kidnappers just come get us again?”

  “Why do they want you so bad, anyway?” asked Ricky. “I would think you girls are proving to be more trouble than it’s worth.”

  “They’ll never stop hunting us,” Sara said woodenly. “I knew it the moment we escaped.”

  “It’s because we know them,” said Amanda, stating it as if it were obvious. “We’ve seen their house, we’ve seen their faces. We can identify them.”

  No mention of the necklace, although Jaci knew she still had it. “It probably doesn’t help that you killed one of his men.”

  “Maybe we need to find The Hand and kill him,” Neal said sardonically.

  Amanda sighed. “Easier said than done. Looks like he’s paid off half the police force.”

  “Other people are looking for you,” Ricky said. “Good people. Get to the FBI. The FBI will move you and give you different names. You’ll be safe.”

  “Never mind,” Neal said. “Let’s just think on it and head west.”

  They entered a small wooded ravine an hour before dusk. The temperature began to drop. It would be a cold night. A cutting wind began to whip the tree branches around them, sending a cascade of red and yellow leaves down to the earth.

  It sliced through Jaci’s jacket. She stretched her fingers, feeling how they tightened in the cold.

  Her mind kept flashing back to the moment that man had found her and Sara. She had leapt out at him and hit him. And then what?

  Ricky rubbed his hands together. “You know, maybe we should stop and build a fire. That would at least keep us warm.”

  “Keep moving,” Neal responded. “You’ll stay warmer.”

  “Who died and made you dictator?” Ricky grumbled. But he stumbled on after his brother.

  Jaci stepped closer to Neal. She wanted to ask him about that day. He had come upon them. He knew what had happened. “Neal?”

  He glanced at her, not slowing his pace. “Yeah?”

  The words stuck in her throat. “Nothing.”

  “You okay?”

  She nodded. He watched her a moment but said nothing more.

  When Neal finally agreed to stop, they were too tired to make a fire. They crawled under several bushes and slept in a heap.

  October 20

  Rome, New York

  “We got the fax from your supervisor last night,” FBI agent Kyle Marlogue said. “As soon as it’s approved, we’ll organize a raid, hopefully for this afternoon.”

  Carl stood with the phone to his ear, surveying the open suitcase. He had started to put away his toiletries and then stopped, not sure if he was leaving or staying put.

  The FBI office in Syracuse accepted Betty’s testimony. She had admitted that the three girls had come in. That was all she knew. She’d been quarantined to a safe house until the FBI could get to the bottom of this.

  The FBI agent continued. “Seems to me like there’s some back dealing going on. I’m not sure if the Rome police department remembers its loyalties.”

  “Agreed. With Betty’s disappearance, we have to act quickly. If they suspect we might know, they’ll destroy whatever evidence remains. We have to catch them off guard.”

  Carl’s cell phone lit up on the bed, vibrating on the dark maroon bedspread. “Hold on a second. My boss is calling me.” He picked it up. “Detective Hamilton speaking.”

  “Carl. I’ve been calling on the hotel phone for twenty minutes. I need you to call me on the landline. Now.”

  Carl frowned. “I’m on the phone with the FBI.”

  “Finish up and call me.” The chief hung up.

  Carl continued his other conversation. “All right, so where are we now?”

  “We meet in an hour to discuss today’s schedule. The raid will be a priority. I’ll call you before noon to give you the details. Yo
u can’t come along, but as soon as we have the building and officers in custody, you can join us for questioning.”

  That answered his question. He had to stay in Rome. “Great. I’ll wait to hear from you.” He called Idaho.

  “Carl,” the chief said without preamble. “I need you on the next flight home.”

  “What? I’ve got a lot going on here. The FBI are going to raid the police department sometime today. I need to be there for that.”

  “No, you don’t. I sent them the file on the entire case, including all the information you sent to me. They don’t need you. But I do.”

  Carl felt a knot form in his stomach. No amount of paperwork or writing could make up for his gut feelings and instincts on this case. This was his case. Now when they were so close to finding the girls, and getting to the bottom of this conspiracy, his boss wanted him to pull out?

  “What’s going on?”

  “Gregorio Rivera disappeared.”

  Whoa. Completely unexpected. “What do you mean? He was on a business trip.”

  “Yes, and supposed to come home two days ago. His wife’s freaking out. She didn’t call until yesterday. His hotel number doesn’t work, his work number is disconnected, and his cell phone goes straight to voicemail. She doesn’t know what to think.”

  “I know what to think,” he growled. “The scumbag left her. He realized I was on his trail, so he flew the coop.”

  “Right. So I need you back here now. I’m getting a search warrant for their property and I want you with the team. Find out where he went. Get phone logs. Find out who he’s been talking to. I want to know if there’s any connection between him and his daughter’s disappearance.”

  As much as he disliked the guy, Carl couldn’t imagine that he had paid The Hand to kidnap his daughter. He hadn’t known she would be at the mall that night.

  This felt like a tangent. While important, it wasn’t going to help bring the girls back.

  He decided to try one last time. “I can fly out first thing tomorrow. Let me take care of this here.”

  “Carl, I know you want to be there. But Rivera’s gone somewhere, and something tells me it’s important to this case. Get yourself back here. Next flight.”

  Carl had no choice in the matter. He finished packing and zipped up his suitcase. He would call the FBI and tell them to proceed without him.

  Chapter 36

  The western road looked like it headed into more suburbs, so they turned south, walking parallel to a paved, two-lane road, lined by woods on both sides.

  They had no food. The day was long, empty, and cold.

  Finally, the sun began to set.

  The next day, they turned at Genesee Road and started heading west again. The sunset glowed a brilliant purple and orange.

  In the distance they could hear a train on its track. They followed the sound.

  There was a small bridge where the track crossed over a shallow ravine lined with gravel and grass. This was where they decided to stop for the night.

  An hour later they sat huddled together under the bridge, staring into the flickering fire.

  Early the next morning, the loud horn warned them seconds before the train rolled overhead. Dust piled down on top of them. Coughing and sputtering, they rolled out from under the bridge.

  Neal started to kick dust onto the charcoal that remained from their fire.

  The day remained overcast and cloudy, with a brisk wind blowing from the east. They came to a T in the road and stopped.

  Amanda pulled out her compass. “This way’s south,” she said, pointing.

  “Wait.” Neal frowned.

  “What’s the problem?”

  Neal didn’t answer.

  “We can’t avoid a town forever.”

  “I’m not avoiding a town. I’m looking for a grocery store. It’s been three days with no food.”

  “I can steal us food,” said Ricky. “We don’t have any money. Your credit card has probably been alerted.”

  Neal reached into his back pocket and pulled out a plastic card. “I took this from the farmhouse.”

  “Where’s a grocery store, then?” said Sara. “We’re starving.”

  “I think we should follow this road north.” Neal chewed on his lower lip, waiting for their response.

  Ricky disagreed. “We’re trying to get to Idaho, not Maine. Let’s go south.”

  Neal shook his head. “Uh-uh. We’re going north.”

  Jaci stepped toward Neal. “Let’s go north.”

  “We better find a grocery store then,” Ricky said, shooting his brother a threatening look as they turned right.

  Forty minutes later they arrived at Langford’s Superette, a small but suitable market.

  Neal bought fresh fruits, vegetables, bread, meat, cheese, and ice-cream. He swiped the card at the single register and the teenage boy didn’t even look at the name.

  They seated themselves on the wooden picnic benches in front of the store to eat. They relaxed, enjoying the autumn sunshine, in no hurry to get going again.

  A van pulled up and Jaci watched with mild interest as a large family tumbled out.

  “Vacationers.” She nodded at the license plate. Montana.

  “Hmm.” Neal scooped out the last of the ice-cream with a plastic spoon and licked it clean.

  “Montana’s close to Idaho.” Sara stared at the van with a kind of longing expression.

  The mother shouted at a teenage girl to get the baby out of the car seat. The girl struggled to do so, then balanced the screaming child on her hip.

  For a moment her eyes glanced over them as she approached the entrance of the store, and she slowed ever so slightly. Her eyes never left their faces before she disappeared inside.

  They had been noticed. “We should go,” Jaci said, standing up.

  “I have to use the bathroom,” Sara said.

  “Me, too.” Amanda went with her.

  “Bathroom break,” Neal said. “Meet back out here in ten minutes.”

  There was only one bathroom, behind a pair of swinging orange doors. Sara went first, with the rest of them standing in an impatient line.

  Jaci glanced around for that family, and noticed the teenage girl still watching them. She began to speak to her mother, who looked over at the girls.

  “We need to hurry,” she said to Ricky.

  “Sara just finished. You’re after Amanda.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said, and jerked her head in the direction of the women. “Look.”

  “What? There’s no one there.”

  She turned and saw that Ricky was right. “Oh. I guess they left.” Their disappearance didn’t make her feel any more comfortable.

  When Amanda came out, Jaci hurried inside, rushing through the necessities. She washed her hands, anxiety flooding her. She stared at her dirty face, the red-rimmed brown eyes.

  Hurry, hurry! We’ve stayed too long. Gotta get going.

  She unlocked the door and ran out, looking around for her friends. Ricky stepped inside and locked the door. Sara and Amanda were examining the chocolate bars, and Neal waited his turn for the bathroom.

  Jaci walked outside, just to check. The minivan was still there. She noticed the family at a picnic table, a red cooler open in front of them. She ducked her head, trying to keep a low profile, and started back for the store.

  “Wait!”

  Don’t turn around. Just keep going. She quickened her pace. A hand grabbed her arm and she gasped, whipping her arm away and whirling around.

  The teenage girl stood there. She looked about eighteen, tall with long reddish-brown hair and side-swept bangs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” The girl hesitated, and then she said, “Are you Jacinta?”

  Nothing could have shocked her more. “Do I know you?” Jaci searched her face.

  “It is you, then,” the girl said, her eyes widening. “You’ve been in the news for weeks—you’ve been missing since September—”
r />   Jaci gasped, hands flying to her mouth.

  The girl turned around, beckoning at the crowded picnic table. “Mom, it’s them. It is them.”

  Her mother stood up and came over, an expression of confusion on her face.

  The girl turned back to Jaci. “I’m Megan. Are you in danger? Are you being held captive? How can we help?”

  Jaci began to cry. They had been found.

  Megan’s mother stepped forward and hugged Jaci. “It’s okay. We’ll help you. Let’s call the police.”

  Jaci shook her head, jerking away. “No. No police. You can’t. The police work for him. We just escaped from the police.”

  Sara and Amanda came out. Amanda looked back and forth between Jaci and the woman.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I’m Megan,” said the girl. “We want to help.”

  Amanda gasped and grabbed Megan’s outstretched hands, holding them in a trembling grip. “Please help us!”

  Megan’s mother said, “Megan, get your father. We’re leaving for the hotel right now.”

  Jaci was unable to stop the flood of tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked at Amanda, afraid to hope. “It might not be safe.”

  “It doesn’t matter. We have to take a chance. We need help!”

  “It’ll be safe,” the woman interjected. “We won’t hurt you.”

  “It’s not you we’re afraid of.”

  “No one will know you’re with us. You can tell us everything. We have a long drive, our hotel’s in Ohio. It’s about five hours from here.”

  Sara looked doubtful. “There’s no such thing as safe. They probably know we’re here.”

  “You’ll be safe,” Megan promised. “My dad works for the FBI.”

  “What is it?” The man joined them.

  “It’s the missing girls, Dad,” Megan said. “The ones from Idaho.”

  “Um, hello?” said Neal, joining the party.

  Jaci turned to him. “We found help. We’re going to Ohio.”

  Twenty minutes later all five of them were smashed into the van, sitting on suitcases and smothered by pillows.

  Jaci was squished next to Ricky and Sara, Amanda sat between the door and the cooler, and Neal huddled behind the driver’s seat.