Finding Sarah (23 page)

Fighting to control the surge of
fear, Sarah tried to think. What had Chris meant about bad girls? He’d been
calm enough until she tried to fight him. And when she did, he became aroused.
Could the fighting excite him? He was talking about sex. He needed the struggle
for sex.
Oh God
. The realization pierced her like a sword. Her breakfast
threatened to come up. She forced herself to breathe deep, even breaths.
Leaning against the wall, panting, trying to send her fear somewhere deep
inside where she could function around it, she knew she’d have to remain
submissive, no matter what.

She examined the clothes Chris
had laid on the bed. A long plaid wool skirt and a black turtleneck. Hers? No,
they were too new. Black lace bra and panties. She picked up the bra and
checked the tag. Her size. Everything was her size. Her mouth grew dry. Maybe
her intruder had looked at more than her computer and bank statements.

Sarah took a quick bath,
straining to hear signs that Chris was coming back into the room. She dressed
as he requested.

Play along. Keep him calm
.

She sat on the bed, waiting,
trying to be rational. True to his word, Chris was leaving her alone. Her head
was clear. She studied the room, looking for a means of escape, or something to
use as a weapon. No lamps in the room—the sole light source was a ceiling
fixture. The lock on the door appeared to be a standard interior door lock, but
reversed so the locking mechanism was on the outside. That meant that when
Chris was in the room, the door would be unlocked. She filed that piece of
information away. Until she knew what was on the other side, she would play
Chris’ game. She sucked in a breath and tapped on the locked door.

“Chris? Can I come out, please?
It’s cold in here.” She backed away and sat on the bed, twisting her hands in
her lap. Within seconds, she heard approaching footsteps and two knocks on the
door.

“Are you dressed, my darling?”
Chris opened the door and peeked in.

“Yes, but my feet are freezing.
Where are my shoes and socks?”

“I’m sorry about that. I have a
fire going. You can warm your feet there.”

A fire. Visions of sturdy pokers
and tongs brought a glimmer of hope. She followed Chris into a spacious living
area. The furniture was old but sturdy. A wood framed sofa looked out onto a
deep wooden front porch, and two plaid chairs sat at right angles to a
fireplace on the adjoining wall. A small padded footstool nestled between the
chairs. Security bars on all the windows.

“What’s your choice?” Chris
asked. “The couch will give you a view of the sunset, but it’s warmer by the
fireplace.”

Sarah pushed one of the chairs
closer to the fire and adjusted the footstool so that it was almost in the
hearth. She sat in the chair and raised her feet, letting the heat from the
fire begin to overcome some of the iciness. Despite the crackling wood fire,
she saw no fireplace tools. Not even a basket of logs. Chris must have hidden
them. Her heart sank.

“You’re so quiet,” Chris said. “I
do love your voice. I would call your answering machine to hear it.”

Sarah felt like she’d fallen off
a cliff. She’d had to be so darned stubborn, insisting Chris was harmless. How
blind could she have been? Randy must think she was an idiot. “What do you
want, Chris? Why am I here?” She kept her voice low so he couldn’t hear it
quaver.

“You. That’s all I’ve ever
wanted. You were supposed to wait for me.”

“You mean after graduation? But
you went away, and I thought you had all those other girls.”

“Those were bad girls, Sarah. Not
like you. They didn’t count. You and I had something different. You said you
wanted to wait until you got married. And then you married someone else. That
wasn’t right.”

“Chris, I don’t know what to say.
We were kids. It was high school. We changed.”

“I never changed. After my father
died, I knew you were my destiny. Soon, we’ll be married, and everything will
be the way it should be. I’ve taken care of it all.”

Sarah shivered despite the fire. “There’s
some daylight left. Why don’t you show me around outside? Give me my shoes and
a coat I can use.”

“Not yet. You need more time to
adjust to your new life. If I gave you your shoes back, I’m afraid you might
try to run away.”

He was darn right about that.
Surely she’d be able to find some other cabin, one with a telephone. Five miles
to the highway, if she knew which way to run. She needed to get an idea of where
she was, without upsetting Chris. She hurried to change the subject. “Can I get
a glass of water? I’m thirsty. Must still be dehydrated.”

“I’ll get you some water. Today,
you rest. Oh, Sarah, won’t it be wonderful? I have a week’s vacation left, and
we can be alone together here. When we go back, I’ll go to work and you’ll be waiting
every night when I get home. We’ll have a drink while you cook dinner, and it’ll
be just the two of us.”

Sarah choked back the gorge
rising in her throat. A week. Chris planned to keep her here for a week. How
could she put him off for a week? Randy would have to find her before then. Before
Chris thought they were married. Before he moved into her bed. She spun her
head around, searching for a second bedroom. She examined the couch. Not a
sleeper, but Chris would fit. He’d have to.

“Do I get the grand tour of the
cabin at least?” she asked. She stood and strolled across the room, heading
toward what seemed to be the kitchen. Chris took her hand and she couldn’t
control the shudder.

“Are you still cold?” he asked. “Why
don’t you go back to the fire? I’ll bring you water and a blanket.”

“No, I’m warm now. I’d like to
see where we’ll be living for the next week.” She continued around the corner
of the room and through a doorway. The kitchen was about half the size of the
living room, much of its area consumed by a large wooden table.

Chris released her hand as she
opened cabinets. She discovered dishes and plastic microwave cookware, along
with some cereal and bread. She pulled a Styrofoam cup from the shelf and
crossed to the refrigerator. Inside she found a container of milk, one of
juice, as well as a dozen eggs, cheese and some lunch meats. She saw fresh
fruits and vegetables in a crisper drawer. The door held an array of
condiments, all in plastic squeeze bottles.

“Are we going to be living on
cereal and bologna sandwiches?”

“Oh, no. We have a wide
selection.” He pulled open the door to the freezer compartment. “You name it, I’m
sure we have it.”

Sarah looked at the stacks of
frozen meals. Everything from Chinese to Indian. “Nice,” she muttered, seeing
the microwave on the counter. She went to the sink and filled the cup with
water.

Chris had planned this all too
carefully. She opened a drawer. The few eating utensils were flimsy plastic.
She opened another. Not a knife to be found. Cereal, sandwiches, and nuke food.
Nothing requiring any preparation. She pulled open more cabinets and drawers.
Not even a frying pan. Shouldn’t mountain cabins have heavy cast-iron frying
pans?

Chris had been planning this for
a long time. She was split in two. One Sarah was terrified, wanting to fight
her way out of the cabin. The other understood that safety would come from
waiting, from remaining calm until the right moment presented itself. She
forced the calm Sarah to the forefront. She would be whoever Chris wanted her
to be.

The sip of water chilled her all
the way down. She poured the remainder down the sink and set the cup on the
counter. The window over the kitchen sink sported the same security bars as the
rest of the house. She forced a smile and extended her hand. “Show me the rest.”

“There’s not much to show. One
more bedroom and a small bathroom.” He pointed to two doors at the far end of
the living room.

“Your bedroom, right?”

“Not for long. I thought we’d get
married tonight.”

“Tonight!” Her blood turned to
ice in her veins. “I don’t think two people can be married all by themselves. We
should wait until we get back to Pine Hills and do it right. You know, the way
good girls do it. Family, someone to give me away.”

“We can have a big party when we’re
back. Maybe even a second ceremony. But I have everything we need.” He went to
a cabinet in the living room and opened it. Inside was an old television-VCR
unit. He held up a video tape. “It’s all on here. Come with me.” Beaming, he
dragged her back to her bedroom.

He flung open the lid to the
trunk, removed a large parcel of tissue, and laid it on the bed. He peeled back
the crinkling paper and reverently lifted a white satin and lace gown in his
arms.

She swallowed. He thought he
could bring her out here, dress her up and marry her. Never mind that it wouldn’t
be legal. If he thought it was, he’d try to consummate the marriage. Sarah
fought the rising nausea.

“Your wedding dress,” he
whispered. He held it out for her inspection. “Isn’t it lovely? It belonged to
my aunt. I’m sure it will fit you. You’ll be the most beautiful bride on the
planet.” He moved toward her, arms extended.

* * * * *

Randy was halfway to his office
when Laughlin’s bark stopped him in his tracks. Shit. Had he missed a court
appearance? Forgotten to file a report? His mind whirled through the
possibilities as he turned and paced to Laughlin’s office.

“Sir?” he said from the doorway.

Laughlin jerked his head in a
command to enter. “Shut the door.”

Randy did as he asked and stood
at attention across the desk from his chief. Laughlin lowered the papers he’s
been reading and took off his glasses. “Sit.”

Randy edged around the chair and
eased his body down. “Is there a problem?”

“You tell me, Detweiler.” He
picked up the papers and shook them. “You been harassing Owen Scofield?”

“No, sir. I called on him once.”

“Mind telling me why you needed
to see someone who lives in Portland and has connections up the yin
yang—connections to
my
boss and upward?”

“I was looking for Consolidated
connections to a case.”

“Still that Tucker thing?”

Randy swallowed. “Yes, sir. His
ex-wife is a part owner of That Special Something. Added to the fact that he
sits on the board of Consolidated, it seemed logical to question him. But I
never harassed him.”

“What about his ex-wife? She said
you weren’t a hundred percent professional when you interrogated her.”

“Interrogated?” He balled his
fists and jammed them into his pockets. “I questioned her. Like I would anyone.
Have you ever met her?”

Laughlin shook his head.

“Sir, if there was any
unprofessional conduct during that interview, it was hers. Shit, she
practically shoved her tits in my face.” He snapped to his feet, every muscle
tensed. “I’m sorry you think I would behave in the manner they described.”

“Sit down. You know the rules. I
get a complaint, I have to investigate. For now, let’s say I’ve investigated.”
Laughlin leaned back in his chair and Randy unclenched his jaw. He lowered
himself back into the chair.

“Anything more, sir? I have a new
lead on the Tucker case.”

“Case? What case?” There was a
new irritation in Laughlin’s voice. “You caught the woman.”

“But not who put her up to it. I’ve
got a link between the robbery, an insurance claim that wasn’t handled
properly, a peeping Tom, and in all probability, whoever poisoned Mrs. Cooper’s
and my cats.”

Laughlin leaned back and crossed
his arms across his chest. “Tell me more.”

Randy explained his latest
findings, his stomach sinking as he watched Laughlin’s brow furrow and his lips
tighten. The man’s jaw twitched.

“It’s got to be someone with a
Consolidated connection,” Randy continued. “I thought if I could get a warrant
for the phone records for all these people my unknown has coerced, I’d find
him.”

“Aside from the cats, you got
anyone who’s actually broken a law here? Someone filing a complaint?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, I need exactly while you’re
on duty. Don’t think I don’t know Kovak’s been covering your ass. Everyone’s
willing to cut you some slack because …”

Of my cats
.
They think I’m losing it
because someone came after my pets.

Not that it would be any better
if they knew it was because of a woman he’d just met. “I’m fine, sir. I might
have let my personal life get too close, but it’s under control. And the cats
are going to be fine, too.”

“You’ve got a lot of vacation
time. You want to use a few days and regroup?”

“No, sir.”

“Then get to work. Have Kovak
bring you up to speed on what he’s been doing and let’s play by the book.”

“A page at a time.”