Chapter 20

Rick gazed at me, before nodding and drawing my attention to the blood on the ground, “The pattern shows she was dragged from the pickup. I know this is a moot point since we now know that she’s been abducted, however, let’s work this out, anyway.”

As he was talking an officer came trotting in our direction and glancing at Rick, he nodded his apology for interrupting him, before looking at me.

“I’ve been talking with someone who claims to be a witness.” He pointed toward a scruffy, unkempt man who looked as if he feared being hauled off to jail.

I’d heard all I needed, and before the officer had even finished his words. I was turning, trotting toward the man he’d pointed out. The derelict, seeing me coming in his direction, took on a hunted look, beginning to shift around, as though searching for a place to hide.

I came to a stop before him, keeping my hands down at my sides, showing him I meant him no harm. “You’re not in any trouble. I’m going to ask you a few questions, okay? Just answer them as truthfully as you can.”

Pulling out my pack of cigarettes, I offered him one, and his hand shot out, snatching a cigarette from the pack as I took in his torn and dirty clothing.

Dirt and God only knew what else I didn’t even want to consider, caked his fingers and nails. Stains and tears dotted his clothing, and the stench wafting up from him made it obvious he had been nowhere close to a shower in quite some time.

Flicking my lighter toward the tip of the cigarette as the man placed it between his lips, I waited as he drew in a deep draw of the tobacco. Slowly he exhaled it out between cracked lips.

Finally, with no coaxing, the man began to talk, “I was over there,” he stated, pointing toward the only wall that offered any shade, “That’s when I saw the lady pull in. She stopped, and then this pickup came rip-roaring in after her. Slammed right into her car.”

I offered another cigarette as the man tossed the smoked one to the ground. With a happy grin, he pulled out another, a little slower this time, trusting the prize wouldn’t be snatched away before he could get it.

“Can you describe the pickup to me?” I watched him as he bent toward the flame of my lighter.

Raising his head back up, he nodded, and after another draw on the cigarette, he spoke again. “Sure. It was dark green but don’t know the year or make.”

I nodded. “Did you get a look at the driver?”

I prayed that he had and felt my hopes deflate when he answered. “No, he had his face covered.”

“Is there anything—anything else you can think of which could help us find the lady?” I questioned.

The man once again shook his head. “Wish I could give more. But that’s all I got.”

I slid the pack of cigarettes and lighter into the man’s palm. “You did fine. I appreciate all you could give us.”

Turning, I made my way over to where Rick and Rylee were taking photos of the broken tail lens and gathering the broken pieces. As I neared, they glanced in my direction. “Not much more we can do here. Forensics will take the car and go through it. If we’re lucky, they’ll find something. Was the old man able to give you anything?” Rylee questioned.

I released a low grunt. “Not really.”

“Fuck,” Rick exclaimed. Then after a few seconds, he continued, “What about the call? Could you make out any background sounds?”

I shook my head. “No, not really.”

Rylee placed a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll find her.”

I nodded. “I just hope to God, it’s not too late when we do.”

“Hey, fuck man, don’t think like that. We’ll find her,” Rick uttered, his frame slumping a little.

I inhaled deeply, letting it out on a shaky breath. “I’m afraid, guys, for the first time in a long time, I’m scared shitless.”

ASHLEY

I placed my numbed feet on the floor and pushed. Little by little, the chair moved, and I thanked God I was on a hard floor, not carpeting or dirt.
My abductor had once again performed a disappearing act, but not before shoveling stale crackers down my throat and adding lukewarm water from a bottle as a chaser. Jesus he’d almost choked me to death in his haste, grunting at me to hurry through the horrible process.

I’d paid close attention to his departure. Pinpointing what direction, he’d gone, his footfalls, the rattle of the doorknob as he exited the room. I now knew I was in a house, and if I could just make it to the door, I would… What? What would I do? I didn’t know, but dammit, I couldn’t sit and do nothing. I feared for my life, my misery grew by the second. Yet, I continued inching the chair across the floor with no plan in mind. I was making good progress when the chair legs hit something and came to a grinding halt.

Christ, I swore silently, would nothing give me a break? The chair, now off balance, tipped and wobbled, threatening to crash me to the floor. Ah crap, I thought, this is so going to hurt. Unable to do anything but ride it out, I braced as I felt the chair lose its delicate balancing act and go over.
I landed with a bone-jarring thud and inwardly screamed. My bruised ribs and the right side of my body shuddered from the impact, nevertheless, I rubbed the side of my head against the floor, feeling the band across my eyes move. Relief shot through my system, and knowing I needed to hurry, and determination pumping through my system, I wiggled and scraped my head until the band lifted enough I could see. My eyes quickly adjusted to the change of lighting, and surveying my surroundings, my gaze landed on a small table across the room. “Oh sweet merciful God, please let there be a knife,” I breathed at the sight of an apple on the table.

Wiggling and pushing with my feet, I worked my way to the table, then using the chair as a battering ram, I hit against the legs of the table until it tipped. When it toppled over, the contents on top scattering, I watched as the apple bounced off the floor, a knife joining it only a few inches away.

With more wiggling, squirming, grunting, and begging, I finally got the chair turned to where I could lay my hands on the knife. Grasping it between near bloodless fingers, I sawed with frantic haste at the ropes around my wrists, nicking myself a few times.

It was a slow process, and I began fearing I was taking too long, however, after a few more minutes of sawing at the rope, I freed my hands and set about cutting my feet free. When the last cut of the knife severed the twine, I felt the moisture of relief spring to my eyes, but with no time to celebrate my freedom, I clutched the knife tighter within my hand and eased toward a window.

As I gripped the bottom of the frame, I peered out and sucked in a quick breath. Shit—I was in a two-story house, and though I could see the neighboring house, in my state, it appeared miles away. With a deep a breath, I shoved up the window, then using the knife I slashed the screen. Afterward, slipping a leg out the opening I’d made, I clambered out on the roof and glanced around, hunting for a way down. Spotting a huge tree resting within two-feet of the house, its generous branches sweeping across the roof in the light breeze, I inched on my butt across the sloping roof, coming to a sliding stop near the edge. Afterward, telling myself not to look down as I gained my feet, I realized the tree was a hell of a lot further away than I’d thought and I wanted to cry. At the sound of a vehicle pulling up in front of the house, I knew it was now or never, and taking several steps back, I gave myself the momentum I needed to fling myself at the tree.

I fought to restrain the scream trying to erupt at finding myself with nothing solid under my feet. Yet, within seconds, I was landing against the rough bark of the tree. My hands and feet scrambled for a hold as I slid down its coarse surface and my descent wasn’t pretty. The gnarled bark tore the hide from my fingers as I continued to fight for a hold. Without notice, I came to a breath-stealing, pain-filled stop as I landed hard on a tree branch. I was in a sorry state by the time I finally got my breath back.

My fingers felt like they’d had a cheese grater taken to them from the texture of the bark as I struggled to hang on. My ribs, if not broken before my leap, felt as if they could be now, and my shoulder, where the bastard had cut me, gushed blood like a fountain.

A huge chunk of my hair had become tangled in a twisted mess among the many tiny branches, but refusing to allow myself to break at this point I reached up, and grabbing my hair, I tugged at it, leaving behind a good sized amount of strands at the action.

From inside the house, I heard a shout, followed by loud cursing, as making sure the knife was secure at my waist, I began climbing down the tree, being careful of where I placed my feet so I wouldn’t fall.

As I reached the last limb, I realized I was still a good ten-foot up in the air. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Letting out a resigned breath, I let go.
The ground came up to meet me at a sickening speed. For something that had looked so far down a few seconds earlier, it sure didn’t take long to reach the ground, and I crash-landed with a thud.

I was on my feet within seconds and running, or trying to as when I’d hit the ground, I’d sprained my ankle. Fuck me, I couldn’t help thinking, as finally making my way into a thick cropping of trees, I continued moving forward, having no idea of where the hell I was.