Authors: Beverly Barton
Dallas got out, ro-un-ded the ho-od, and re-ac-hed the pas-sen-ger do-or of the-ir SUV in ti-me to help Genny on-to the gro-und. "If I see you're get-ting too ti-red or if you get suc-ked in-to the dar-k-ness too de-ep, I'm ta-king you ho-me. Un-der-s-tand?"
"Yes, Dal-las, I un-der-s-tand." She lo-ved him for be-ing so pro-tec-ti-ve.
Side by si-de, they ap-pro-ac-hed Jacob and Big Jim. When they drew clo-ser, Genny saw the stra-in on Jim Up-ton's fa-ce. Jamie had put his gran-d-fat-her thro-ugh hell for ye-ars, but the old man still ca-red abo-ut his only gran-d-c-hild.
"We're all set," Jacob sa-id. "Big Jim pro-vi-ded us with a pa-ir of Jamie's socks. The ones he wo-re yes-ter-day, so we're set to let Pe-ter and Pa-ul lo-ose on-ce you he-ad us in the right di-rec-ti-on."
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Genny nod-ded.
"I can't tell you how gra-te-ful I am that you're wil-ling to help Jamie," Jim sa-id, his ex-p-res-si-on som-ber. "Con-si-de-ring how Jamie has tre-ated Jaz-zy. I know she's yo-ur best fri-end."
Genny la-id her hand on Jim's arm and squ-e-ezed com-for-tingly. "The only thing that mat-ters right now is fin-ding Jamie. And I'll do my best to help." She didn't tell the man that she wo-uldn't let any li-ving cre-atu-re die if it we-re wit-hin her po-wer to pre-vent it, not even a sorry son of a bitch li-ke Jamie.
"Is what Jacob sa-id true?" Jim as-ked. "Did you… did you see him be-ing tor-tu-red?"
Genny's ga-ze shot to Jacob's fa-ce, and she im-me-di-ately un-der-s-to-od that he'd had no cho-ice but tell Big Jim ever-y-t-hing, ot-her-wi-se he wo-uldn't ha-ve be-li-eved Jacob.
"Yes, it's true. So-me-one is hol-ding Jamie cap-ti-ve. She is tor-tu-ring-"
"She? It's a wo-man who has him, a wo-man who is… God help him. It co-uld be an-y-body. That boy has no con-s-ci-en-ce when it co-mes to ta-king ad-van-ta-ge of wo-men." Jim lo-oked di-rectly in-to Genny's eyes. "Do you know who she is?"
Genny sho-ok her he-ad. "No. I can't see the wo-man cle-arly."
Only her short red ha-ir
.
Jim drew in a de-ep bre-ath and nod-ded. ''Then we'd bet-ter be off, hadn't we? It'll be day-light so-on, and I don't want my wi-fe or La-ura and her fa-mily to know an-y-t-hing abo-ut this, un-less it's ab-so-lu-tely ne-ces-sary. Jacob was go-od eno-ugh to call me first be-fo-re he sho-wed up so I co-uld me-et him down he-re at the ga-te. If an-y-t-hing hap-pens to Jamie, it'll kill my wi-fe."
"We're re-ady." Jacob lo-oked to Genny. "Which way?" Genny tur-ned back to Dal-las, who sto-od only a co-up-le of fe-et away. She wan-ted him ne-ar, in ca-se she ne-eded him im-me-di-ately.
So-me-ti-mes when she del-ved too de-eply, she had dif-fi-culty re-emer-ging. Dal-las had be-co-me her li-fe-li-ne to re-ality. He pos-ses-sed the abi-lity to draw her back from the ob-si-di-an depths.
With Dal-las at her si-de, Genny clo-sed her eyes and con-cen-t-ra-ted, pra-ying that her sixth sen-se wo-uld pick I up so-met-hing on Jamie's whe-re-abo-uts. Dar-k-ness des-cen-ded qu-ickly. Swir-ling, ma-le-vo-lent dar-k-ness that in-di-ca-ted evil.
Pain. So much pa-in. Un-be-arab-le suf-fe-ring. She co-uld he-ar Jamie's pi-ti-ful cri-es in-si-de her mind and the gen-t-le-ness wit-hin her co-uld ba-rely en-du-re the know-led-ge of what was hap-pe-ning to him. The dar-k-ness tur-ned a de-ep red, a thick, clo-udy crim-son co-ve-ring ever-y-t-hing. Blo-od. Blo-od. Oh, God, so much blo-od.
Concentrate on whe-re Jamie is and not on what's hap-pe-ning to him
, she told her-self.
Con-nect with the pla-ce, not with Jamie
.
Although she was unab-le to vi-su-ali-ze the exact lo-ca-ti-on, she did re-cog-ni-ze Scot-s-man's Bluff when she tri-ed to pic-tu-re the pla-ce whe-re Jamie was be-ing held. Only a few months ago, a vi-ci-o-us se-ri-al kil-ler had mur-de-red an in-no-cent se-ven-te-en ye-ar old not far from Scot-s-man's Bluff. The pla-ce was de-ep in the fo-rest, high in the mo-un-ta-ins. Sec-lu-ded. Dot-ted with ca-ves.
Plen-ti-ful with wil-d-li-fe. And a few old, de-ser-ted ca-bins still sto-od he-re and the-re, wit-hin sight of Scot-s-man's Bluff. Jamie was in one of tho-se ca-bins!
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"He's so-mew-he-re clo-se to Scot-s-man's Bluff." Genny ope-ned her eyes. And al-t-ho-ugh she had be-en ab-le to re-turn to the pre-sent mo-ment wit-ho-ut any dif-fi-culty, she felt a sud-den and po-wer-ful we-ak-ness. When she swa-yed slightly, Dal-las cur-sed un-der his bre-ath. "I'm all right,"
she as-su-red him.
"Okay, let's get or-ga-ni-zed he-re," Jacob cal-led out. "Mr. Up-ton will ri-de with me, as will Genny and Dal-las." He lo-oked at Sally. "You ta-ke Genny's SUV and stay right be-hind us. Le-ave Pe-ter and Pa-ul in the truck with us." Sally nod-ded. Dal-las tos-sed the old wo-man his keys. "Ever-yo-ne el-se will fol-low us and stay in ra-dio con-tact at all ti-mes. I don't want an-y-body do-ing an-y-t-hing wit-ho-ut my spe-ci-fic or-ders."
Once they he-aded back up the mo-un-ta-in, Genny res-ted her he-ad on Dal-las's sho-ul-der and tri-ed her best to con-cen-t-ra-te on whe-re Jamie was lo-ca-ted. Scot-s-man's Bluff co-uld be se-en from mi-les aro-und, which me-ant it co-uld ta-ke ho-urs to se-arch the vi-ci-nity. Genny felt cer-ta-in that Jamie didn't ha-ve ho-urs. She sen-sed that the wo-man who held him cap-ti-ve was gro-wing we-ary of tor-tu-ring him, es-pe-ci-al-ly now that he kept pas-sing out from the pa-in.
* * *
She ope-ned the ther-mos, til-ted it, and po-ured wa-ter over Jamie's blo-ody fa-ce. He didn't res-pond. Damn, he was such a lily-li-ve-red we-ak-ling. A lit-tle pa-in and he pas-sed out. Oh, well, she'd had her fun with him. He had suf-fe-red the tor-ment of the dam-ned. And his pretty boy fa-ce and per-fect body we-re ne-it-her pretty nor per-fect any lon-ger. She step-ped away from him and ad-mi-red her han-di-work. His fa-ce and body we-re co-ve-red with nu-me-ro-us cuts and burns. She had sli-ced his fin-ger-tips and to-es with ra-zor bla-des and nip-ped off his tiny ma-le nip-ples with a pa-ir of pli-ers. She had used the hot po-ker re-pe-atedly; ho-we-ver, she had one fi-nal des-ti-na-ti-on for that par-ti-cu-lar in-s-t-ru-ment.
Kneeling be-si-de him aga-in, she pat-ted his fa-ce. Blo-od so-aked her hands. The hu-man fa-ce had so many tiny blo-od ves-sels that with a few cuts, it lo-oked as if a per-son was ble-eding to de-ath.
"Wake up, dar-ling. I've got anot-her sur-p-ri-se for you." Jamie's eye-lids eased hal-f-way open.
"That's a go-od boy."
He tri-ed to sha-ke his he-ad, but co-uldn't ma-na-ge. His bur-ned mo-uth for-med the word No.
Using her fin-gers, she wi-ped the blo-od from his fo-re-he-ad whe-re it was drip-ping in-to his eyes.
"It's al-most over. All my fun. And all yo-ur pa-in. But then when you die, you'll go to hell, and the suf-fe-ring the-re will last fo-re-ver." She la-ug-hed at him, la-ug-hed with the gid-di-ness bub-bling in-si-de her.
She got up and wal-ked over to the fi-rep-la-ce. The po-ker sho-uld be red hot now. She lif-ted the po-ker from the fla-mes and car-ri-ed it with her as she sto-od at Jamie's fe-et. She knelt, pic-ked up the sharp but-c-her kni-fe, then eased up bet-we-en Jamie's spre-ad legs. She la-id the po-ker asi-de for a mo-ment whi-le she lif-ted his scro-tum. Then, in one swift sli-ce, she to-ok off his ge-ni-tals. Tos-sing
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the kni-fe asi-de, she pic-ked up the hot po-ker and ram-med it in-to his anus.
Leaving the po-ker im-bed-ded in him, she craw-led up be-si-de him and to-ok a go-od lo-ok at what was left of Jamie Up-ton. She for-ced his mo-uth wi-de apart and stuf-fed his blo-ody pe-nis in-to his mo-uth. Then she sto-od, wi-ped her blo-ody hands off on her blo-ody body, and sig-hed.
''That's that. Job all do-ne." If he wasn't de-ad, he wo-uld be very so-on.
Now you ha-ve to cle-an up
, she told her-self.
Gat-her up all yo-ur things, put them in the
gar-ba-ge sack, and get re-ady to le-ave.
Andrea Wil-lis wo-ke at six o'clock. So-met-hing was wrong. She co-uld sen-se tro-ub-le. It was un-li-ke her to wa-ke so early, es-pe-ci-al-ly af-ter she'd ta-ken a sle-eping pill. And whe-ne-ver she got a sen-se of fo-re-bo-ding, it usu-al-ly in-vol-ved La-ura. Sud-denly she re-mem-be-red that ne-it-her La-ura nor She-ri-dan had co-me ho-me last night. She didn't worry so much abo-ut She-ri-dan. That fe-isty yo-ung wo-man co-uld ta-ke ca-re of her-self. But what abo-ut La-ura?
Andrea got out of bed, slip-ped in-to her ho-use sho-es and ro-be, exi-ted the bed-ro-om whe-re Ce-cil was still sle-eping, and wal-ked down the hall. She knoc-ked on her da-ug-h-ters' do-or. No res-pon-se. This ti-me she didn't wa-it She simply flung open the do-or and tur-ned on the over-he-ad light. Ne-it-her of the twin beds had be-en slept in. Both we-re still ma-de up from yes-ter-day mor-ning.
What was that odd so-und? Whe-re was it co-ming from? She stop-ped de-ad still in the cen-ter of the ro-om and lis-te-ned. So-me-one was we-eping, and the pi-ti-ful sobs we-re co-ming from the adj-o-ining bat-h-ro-om. Had one of the girls re-tur-ned? Was She-ri-dan or La-ura crying? If Jamie Upton had do-ne so-met-hing to hurt La-ura aga-in, she didn't know what she'd do. Yes, she did.
She'd ma-ke Ce-cil for-bid La-ura to marry the sorry son of a bitch and they'd ta-ke La-ura ho-me to-day.
When An-d-rea eased open the bat-h-ro-om do-or, she gas-ped when she saw La-ura, to-tal-ly na-ked, stan-ding in the sho-wer. The sho-wer was off, but La-ura was so-aking wet and shi-ve-ring.
Te-ars stre-amed down her fa-ce.
"Laura?" For a co-up-le of se-conds An-d-rea co-uldn't se-em to mo-ve. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" La-ura tur-ned her he-ad slowly and ga-zed at An-d-rea. That's when An-d-rea knew that La-ura had had anot-her spell. She rus-hed to her da-ug-h-ter, grab-bed a lar-ge to-wel from the rack by the sho-wer stall, and wrap-ped it aro-und La-ura.
"Come on, swe-etie, let me help you." With gre-at gen-t-le-ness, An-d-rea ur-ged La-ura in-to mo-ti-on, hel-ping her step out of the sho-wer. She rub-bed La-ura's body dry, then to-ok anot-her to-wel and wrap-ped it aro-und her he-ad tur-ban-st-y-le. Ta-king La-ura's trem-b-ling hand, she led her da-ug-h-ter in-to the bed-ro-om, whe-re she eased her down on the ed-ge of the bed. La-ura con-ti-nu-ed we-eping. Softly. Mo-ur-n-ful-ly.
While she se-ar-c-hed the clo-set for so-met-hing su-itab-le for La-ura to we-ar, An-d-rea tho-ught abo-ut what must be do-ne. Ce-cil wo-uld fight her, but she didn't ca-re how much he obj-ec-ted.
La-ura ne-eded help. If she co-uldn't ma-ke La-ura le-ave Che-ro-kee Co-unty to-day and if Ce-cil
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wo-uldn't back her up, she'd call a lo-cal doc-tor and see if he co-uld at le-ast gi-ve La-ura so-me me-di-ca-ti-on. So-met-hing to so-ot-he her ner-ves.
Andrea wor-ked qu-ickly, hel-ping La-ura dress in lo-ose-fit-ting lo-un-ge slacks and top. Then she com-bed La-ura's long blond ha-ir, and all the whi-le she spo-ke softly, so-ot-hingly to her tro-ub-led da-ug-h-ter. When An-d-rea sat down on the bed be-si-de La-ura and to-ok her hand in hers, La-ura stop-ped crying.
"Feeling bet-ter?" An-d-rea as-ked.
Laura nod-ded.
'What's wrong? Tell me abo-ut it. Why we-re you crying?"
"I don't know," La-ura sa-id. "I-I can't re-mem-ber."
"Where we-re you last night and early this mor-ning? I chec-ked in he-re and both you and She-ri-dan we-re go-ne."
"I don't know." La-ura squ-e-ezed An-d-rea's hand. "I re-mem-ber Jamie kis-sing me go-od night and I ca-me up-s-ta-irs to get re-ady for bed. She-ri-dan wasn't he-re. I was alo-ne."
"And then what?" 'That's all I re-mem-ber un-til a lit-tle whi-le ago. I-I was in the sho-wer, scrub-bing my body. And I was crying."
"Are you sa-ying you don't re-mem-ber whe-re you we-re all night?" An-d-rea's he-art ca-ught in her thro-at.
Ple-ase, God, ple-ase, don't do this to us. La-ura isn't to bla-me for the way she is. And
Ce-cil, my po-or Ce-cil, can't go thro-ugh this aga-in.
"Oh, Mot-her, it's hap-pe-ning aga-in, isn't it?" La-ura flung her-self in-to An-d-rea's arms. "I'm lo-sing my mind. I'm ha-ving anot-her ner-vo-us bre-ak-down, aren't I?"
Andrea hug-ged her da-ug-h-ter fi-er-cely. Pro-tec-ti-vely. "No, no, swe-etie, you'll be all right. No one knows you we-ren't he-re all night. And you mustn't tell an-yo-ne. Ever-y-t-hing will be all right.
Trust me to ta-ke ca-re of things, to ta-ke ca-re of you."
"Oh, Mot-her, what wo-uld I do wit-ho-ut you?" She la-id her he-ad in An-d-rea's lap.
Andrea stro-ked La-ura's damp ha-ir.
Help us, de-ar God, help us
.
* * *
They had let Pe-ter and Pa-ul lo-ose the mi-nu-te Scot-s-man's Bluff ca-me in-to vi-ew. The she-rif-fs de-pu-ti-es and po-li-ce-men had fol-lo-wed the blo-od-ho-unds, run-ning at top spe-ed to ke-ep up with die lum-be-ring dogs. Big Jim wa-ited with Genny and Dal-las out-si-de Jacob's truck, par-ked on the si-de of die ro-ad. Jacob ra-di-o-ed to the truck se-ve-ral ti-mes, gi-ving di-em
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up-da-tes, let-ting them know the dogs hadn't lost the scent.
Daybreak ca-me qu-i-etly, all hint of bad we-at-her van-qu-is-hed. Last night's dis-tant thun-der that fo-re-cast ra-in hadn't kept the pro-mi-se of a dow-n-po-ur. The few sprin-k-les that fell hadn't even set-tled the dust. Un-do-ub-tedly the clo-uds had bypas-sed Che-ro-kee Co-unty and de-po-si-ted ra-in far-t-her north. The mor-ning sky held no hint of red, which Genny's granny had sa-id al-ways pre-dic-ted bad we-at-her. Lus-ci-o-us pinks and la-ven-ders stre-aked the ed-ges of the sky.