Devil's Lake (Bittersweet Hollow Book 1) Page 21

  They’d been on the road for twelve hours, and tired, cranky, and gritty-eyed, they’d all agreed not to wait until morning light.

  They split into two teams. Anderson and Ned disappeared into the moonlit night, and Boone led the way toward the first building.

  Chapter 63

  Grace shrank back into the shadows beneath the overhang. Slowly, quietly, she shuffled to the corner and hid from the light in the woods.

  She wanted to run and scream, wave her arms, and shout, “Here I am!” But she held it in, clamped her lips tight together.

  What if the person in the woods with the flashlight was another nut job like Murphy? What if it was his brother?

  Worse yet, what if it was his mother? What if she took part in his sick games?

  She shuddered. She’d always thought of his mother as dead.

  She hoped she was right.

  With a deep, steadying breath, she peeked around the corner.

  The light was coming closer, bouncing along the ground as if its owner was jogging toward the building. She pulled back a few more feet into the darkness and held her breath.

  ***

  Portia bent low and ran behind Boone, trying to keep a low profile. Soon she felt out of breath, and wondered if she could keep up the pace. Boone was in much better shape than she was, there was no question about that.

  They approached a darkened building, but at the very end of the long building, she noticed a dim light spilling onto the gravel below a window.

  She stopped him and pointed. “Over there.”

  “Come on,” he said.

  A shrill cry stopped Portia’s heart beating in her chest. She froze, turned toward the noise, and was quickly enveloped by a shrieking tangle of arms and legs. Someone kissed her cheeks over and over again.

  “Portia! Portia. Oh my God. It’s you!” Grace danced in place, then jumped on Boone, both legs around his waist. “Boone! You guys actually found me!”

  When Portia finally realized what was happening, she screamed Grace’s name and hugged her and Boone in a three-person embrace.

  Grace jumped down, wrapped her arms around Portia, and hugged and twirled with her for a full minute. “Oh my God. You’re here!”

  “Yes, we are, Baby Cakes.” Portia laughed, relief flooding her so strongly that her legs almost buckled.

  Boone was on the phone to Anderson, practically shouting the news. “We’ve got her.”

  In five minutes, the sound of scuffling boots grew louder, and finally, Anderson appeared in the light of his own flashlight. He stopped. Stared. And opened his arms for Grace, who threw herself on him with such passionate kisses that Portia almost had to turn away blushing.

  “Baby, baby, baby,” Grace muttered. “Oh God. You wouldn’t believe what I had to do to get away from him.”

  When they finally stopped chattering over each other, the foursome stopped. Ned was the one who brought them back to reality.

  “So,” he said. “Where’s Murphy? Did you have to kill him, Grace?”

  “No,” she said, looking pensive. She raised her eyes to each of them in turn. “But I was sorely tempted.”

  Boone gestured toward the light. “Is he down there?”

  “Uh huh. Come on.” Grace looped her arm through Anderson’s and her eyes hardened. “I’ll take you to the son of a bitch.”

  Chapter 64

  Ned held his phone up in one hand. “Hold on a second. Shouldn’t we call the cops first? Let ‘em know we found Grace?”

  Boone shook his head. “Let’s wait, make sure we’ve really got Murphy, too.”

  Grace giggled, sounding almost hysterical. “Oh. We’ve got him. Unless he can chew through a plastic tie-wrap on his wrist and ankle, he’s ours.”

  Portia’s fists tightened at her sides and she leaned down to pick up the rifle she’d dropped. “I’d like a go at him.” As soon as she said it, she wondered how those words could come from her own lips. But the pent up anger, the long-suffering pain, had been building up inside her for a long time now. “Just five minutes. That’s all I want.”

  Grace tossed her an empathetic smile. “I don’t blame you. Come on.” She took her sister’s arm and led her into the darkened building, through the cavernous production lines and narrow green painted corridors. When they reached the locked door, Grace pulled the keys out of her pajama pockets. “Okay. Here we go.”

  The door squeaked open and Portia was hit with a sense of trepidation. She froze.

  What if Murphy got loose? What if he was waiting for them, behind the door? With a knife? A gun?

  Murphy’s in there. So close. So stinking close.

  She stepped inside after Grace and the men entered the room. Fear replaced her insane desire for revenge. She trembled all over.

  Grace stood with hands on her hips, watching Murphy, who, indeed, was still tethered to the bed at the side of the room. Naked, he lay there for all to see, his face screwed into a furious mask with one hand trying unsuccessfully to cover his manhood.

  “There’s your man. Right where I left him,” Grace said. “He’s just kind of hanging out.” Another too-bright laugh came from her lips and she covered her mouth with one hand, as if trying to control it. One raw sob erupted from her and she sucked in a deep breath, covering her eyes.

  Portia moved closer and took her sister’s hand. “You’re safe now.”

  Grace leaned into her, sagging against her shoulder. “Thanks.”

  Boone edged forward carefully. “Let me double check his restraints.” He leaned down, poked at Murphy’s wrist and ankle with the tip of his rifle.

  In a crazed burst of movement, Murphy lunged for the gun with his free hand. Shrieking with his metallic voice like a futuristic banshee, he reached it, struggled with Boone, and almost won control of the rifle. Boone streaked back, swung the gun around, and slammed the stock against Murphy’s head.

  Murphy lay still, eyes closed, body at rest.

  Ned moved closer. “Is he dead?”

  “God. I hope so.” Portia let go of Grace and crept closer. “Check his pulse. But be careful.” Bile rose in her throat and her fists clenched at her side.

  She wanted to run. Run far away. Away from this monster.

  Boone leaned forward and touched his fingers to the man’s wrist, keeping his rifle an arm’s length away. “Nope. He’s alive.”

  Grace regained her composure and came closer, leaning down to look at him with fierce anger stamping her face. “Bastard. I’d like to get some answers before the cops take him away.” She shook his shoulder. “Charlie! Wake up.”

  Anderson raised an eyebrow. “Charlie?”

  Grace backed up and canted one hip, her saucy attitude firmly back in place. “He hates it when you call him that. Only his precious mommy was allowed to call him Charlie. He wanted me to call him Charles.”

  Slowly, Portia’s anxiety settled, to be replaced by lava like anger. Her lip curled. “Really? Charles?”

  Grace nodded. “Yup. If you wanna make him mad…call him Charlie.”

  “I can’t look at that any more.” Portia grabbed a blanket and threw it over his nakedness. “Hey. Charlie.” She nudged his hip with her boot. “You awake?”

  He didn’t move.

  “Too bad,” she said, shaking with nerves. “I’d like to force him to tell us about the other girls. I know there were probably dozens. And I wonder if there are any more held in this place.” She gestured to the abandoned buildings around her.

  Boone put an arm around Portia’s shoulder. She didn’t flinch. She even leaned into him a little bit.

  “Come on, Portia. Let the cops do the questioning. They’re the experts.”

  She relaxed against him, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I guess you’re right.”

  Anderson framed Grace’s face in his hands and searched her eyes. “Do you need a doctor, honey?”

  Grace placed both palms against his chest and rose up on her toes to kiss him. “No, baby. I’m okay, now
that you’re here.”

  Anderson’s expression softened. “Well, then. Let’s get you out of here.”

  Ned held up a hand. He’d been on the phone for several minutes already. “We can’t leave until the police come.” He turned back to his cell phone, head nodding furiously as he relayed the location and situation to Sheriff Dunne back in Vermont.

  Chapter 65

  “Come on. I need some fresh air.” Boone led the way outside, where he sank heavily onto the edge of the cement steps, glancing over to the horizon. “Dawn’s coming.”

  Portia sat beside him. She felt no fear, no nervousness. Her insides had churned when she’d seen Murphy again. She thought she was going to throw up. But then, when she realized he really was secured tightly to the bed, it had all fizzled out of her and she’d felt the fear drain away.

  It’s over.

  She watched the cotton candy pink line grow thicker on the horizon behind the trees, dancing off the sparkling surface of Devil’s Lake. She felt calm, calmer than ever before.

  “Boone?”

  He turned toward her. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.” She took his hand in hers. “For finding my sister.”

  A smile slid onto his lips. “No problem.”

  He answered as if he’d just bought her a coffee, or handed her an apple. As if it were no big deal.

  She loved that.

  “I hear the police sirens,” she said. “They’re coming.”

  “Yep.” He stretched his legs out. “We’ll probably be here all morning.”

  “Probably.” She turned toward him. “But after it’s over, I have a request.”

  He cocked an eyebrow in her direction. “What’s that, Peaches?”

  She looked toward the lake, glistening in the distance. “I want to go for a swim before we head home.” She paused, then continued in a rushed whisper. “I need to purge him from my system. I think I could do that by swimming for the last time in Devil’s Lake, when I’m not running from someone, not swimming for my life. You know what I mean?” She took his hand in hers. “I want to float and relax. Swim without fear. Enjoy the feel of the cool water on my skin.”

  “Makes sense. And it sounds good.” He eyed their clothing. “But we’re not exactly dressed for swimming, are we?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t care. I need to feel clean again.” She hitched a sob. “Can you understand that?”

  Lights flashed in the distance, and the sound of the sirens grew louder.

  Grace, who had been standing with Anderson and Ned behind them, plopped down beside her. “I totally get that. I want to swim, too.”

  The sisters embraced, cried on each other for a few minutes, and then sighed, linking arms and gazing toward the water through the trees.

  “When I saw him again,” Portia began, “it all came flooding back. I thought I’d crumple into a ball and die.” She leaned over to kiss her sister’s cheek. “But then I saw how brave you were. How you beat him in two days, Grace. Two days! Compared to my two years…I felt so proud of you. I drew on that pride and it gave me strength.”

  Grace swiped at her tears. “I kept thinking of you. How he’d hurt you. It made me so goddamned mad.”

  Anderson crouched behind Grace and rubbed her shoulders. “How did you do it, baby? In two days?”

  Grace smiled at him over her shoulder. “I’ll tell you some day, sweetie. But let me say all those acting lessons you gave me came in pretty handy.”

  Anderson nodded. “I should have known.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “You’re our hero, Gracie. You’re amazing.”

  She pulled him down beside her as the cop cars screeched into the yard. “I kept thinking of you. How much I loved you.”

  Portia and Boone exchanged smiles, then rose to greet the officers who ran toward them with weapons drawn.

  Chapter 66

  Grace and Portia stood at the shore of Devil’s Lake, hand in hand, wearing gym shorts and tees Portia had thrown into her bag when she hastily packed to drive west in search of Grace. They didn’t have towels, but she’d grabbed a big blanket from Boone’s Jeep and it lay ready for them to share when they finished swimming. The men stayed back at the munitions plant, having offered to help the local police search the buildings for more kidnapped girls.

  “I’m so glad this is over,” Grace said, wading with Portia into the water.

  “He won’t be able to hurt any more girls, that’s for sure.” Portia shivered. “Oh! It’s cold.”

  “We’ll get used to it, Sweet Pea.”

  Portia turned to her with a trembling smile. “I love it when you call me that.” She squeezed her sister’s hand. “Grace? Will we ever forget Murphy?”

  Grace squeezed her hand. “No. But we will get over it. We’ll move forward.”

  “I don’t know. I keep seeing his face in my nightmares. I wake up screaming to him standing over me.”

  Grace turned to her sister, locking eyes with her. “I want you to focus on replacing that image with the one you just saw. Murphy lying tied up. Helpless. Vulnerable. Naked to the world.”

  Portia nodded as they walked deeper into the lake. “Okay. I’ll try. Or maybe I’ll picture him in jail.”

  Grace let go of her hand. “Even better.” She dove beneath the surface and came up a few yards away. “Come on. It feels great.”

  Portia followed her example, and when she felt the water streaming around her face and body, her entire being sighed with relief. She popped up beside Grace. “Wonderful.”

  Grace grinned. “Let’s swim out a ways. You ready?”

  Portia smiled back. “Ready.”

  They stroked side by side until their arms grew tired, then rolled onto their backs and floated. Mourning doves cooed from the shore, and birds flitted and chirped nearby. The sound of crickets came from the reeds in a nearby cove. Lulled by the feeling of security and peace, they linked fingers and drifted without saying a word.

  Finally, Grace pulled up and tread water. “Portia? How’s Mom? I’ve been worried sick about her.”

  Portia stayed on her back, gazing up into the blue sky above. “No worries. Dr. Kareem got her back on the IV drugs and she’s starting to come back to where she was when she first was released. The doc said he can arrange a visiting nurse to come every other day to set up the IV, since the pills didn’t work as well.”

  “Can we see her?”

  “She’ll be home in a few days, hon. We’ll be together again. All of us.”

  Grace floated up onto her back again. After a few minutes, she said, “You like him, don’t you.”

  “What?”

  “Him. Boone. You like him.”

  “I—”

  “Come on,” Grace said. “I know you. I see the way you look at him.”

  Portia’s cheeks felt warm. She had been avoiding thoughts about Boone for a while. Avoiding how she felt when she was around him. Her sense of irrational fear had pretty much disappeared. The anxiety had lessened. And now, when he touched her, or leaned a shoulder to hers, or turned to her with those gorgeous deep gray eyes, her heart thumped wildly and her knees went weak.

  “I guess I do.”

  “What?”

  “Like him. Kinda.”

  “Kind of?” Grace squealed a laugh and splashed Portia with a cupped palm. “Kind of?”

  Portia giggled.

  Grace grinned at the clouds above. “I see a cloud that looks like Boone’s face. And I know you want to smother it in kisses.” She paused for effect. “Don’t you?”

  Portia let the last of her anxiety go…up, up, away it floated, to the clouds above. She pictured it dissipating like vapors on the wind, gone for good. Never to torture her again. She began to sidestroke back to the shore. “Okay. I’ll admit it. Maybe… maybe I’d like to kiss him.”

  Grace caught up with her. “Good. Because he’s been in love with you since you were kids.”

  Portia snorted a laugh. “No way.”

  “Way.
”

  “Seriously? Why didn’t I ever…”

  “Because you were blind, my dear sister. Blind and…um…stupid.”

  “Stupid?”

  Grace chuckled and started to swim on her back. “Okay. Not exactly stupid, maybe dense.”

  “Oh, that’s a lot better,” Portia said, but she couldn’t stop the smile that spread on her lips. “I’m just dense.”

  “It’s just the truth, Sweet Pea.”

  It was Portia’s turn to splash her sister. She drove an open hand across the water’s surface, sending a shower over Grace’s face.

  Sputtering, Grace rolled over and stood in the shallow water. “Really? You wanna go with me? Huh?” With a laugh, she jumped on Portia’s shoulders and dunked her.

  Portia emerged laughing, and collared her sister around the neck, giggling uncontrollably. “You’re incorrigible, Grace.”

  “Incorrigible?” Grace snorted. “Oh, give me a break. You learned that word in The Sound of Music. The little boy. What was his name? Kurt?”

  “Right. ‘I’m Kurt. I’m eleven. I’m incorrigible.’”

  “He was a boy.”

  “I know. But you’re still incorrigible.”

  They reached the shore and wrapped up in the blanket, sitting side by side on a log.

  Portia snuggled close to her sister. “I love you, Baby Cakes.”

  Grace leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder. “Right back atcha.”

  They sat for a long time, until their hair was drier and their bodies were warm. With a satisfied sigh, they stood as one and walked back to the compound.

  Chapter 67

  Dirk helped Daisy out of the truck, amazed at how much stronger she’d grown in the past week. The intravenous experimental cancer meds had really turned her around, and for the first time in months, he felt a sense of relaxation, almost of…peace.