Chapter 4
Chapter 4
A drien gave Vicky directions to his family’s old homestead, now his older brother’s home, and she frowned as they arrived.
There was nothing palatial about the place. But Adrien was one of four siblings, so the sprawling ranch house, built circa the early 1940s, stretched out in a long ell. The gated estate wasn’t that much different from the one owned by Jimmy Trent. They had large stables, several paddocks, ten horses—last time he’d been “home”—and a massive kennel.
He hadn’t lied to her. His brother and his family were huge on rescuing animals, placing them when they could, but giving them a loving “forever” home when they couldn’t.
She was staring at the place, still frowning.
“What?” he asked her.
“I can’t believe we’re here already! Before, heading from Trent’s to the hospital and then to the station and back to the hospital . . . short distances, but long drives. First, I should drive at midnight more often—the traffic is way better,” Vicky said.
He laughed softly. “Well, let’s face it—yes. This time of night is much better. Once you head this far west, you’re in a rural area, and that helps, too. I loved growing up here—close to major cities, ‘Far From the Madding Crowd.’ ”
“Ah, quoting from Thomas Hardy, eh?” she teased. “Still . . .” She smiled. “Think about the Riverwalk in Fort Lauderdale, South Beach, Brickell . . . we’re not far at all, and yet a world away.”
“That’s what I always love. Ah, there’s Jeremy!” Adrien said, getting out of the car as he saw his older brother step out of the house.
“Hey! So, your pups arrived a while ago. Nice animals,” Jeremy told him.
Jeremy was eight years older than Adrien. Their sisters, Geneva and Charlotte, were in between the two, with Geneva now an attorney in Palm Beach, and Charlotte happily married with two kids of her own in St. Augustine, where she owned a tour company.
They were all grateful Jeremy had chosen to keep their old homestead. Their mom and dad had found it too much to keep up as they aged. And every holiday, when possible, they all gathered at the ranch. Of course, he’d been living in Virginia for the last several years, and work situations had sometimes kept him away. But he was always grateful there was still a “home” for him to go back to.
“They’re good?” Adrien asked. “It didn’t appear there would be a problem. From what we discovered, no one was ever attacked by any of them—”
“They’re doing great!” Jeremy said. “And Chaparral is back, too. All seems well. Except that you’re here now . . . with a friend?”
“Yeah, sorry. I know it’s late,” Adrien told him. “And this is Detective Victoria Henderson. Jeremy, we’re still looking for Kasey Richardson.”
His older brother was a lot like him; they were the same height, and had similar features, except Jeremy’s hair was a lot darker.
“Welcome, Detective!” Jeremy said.
“Just Vicky, please,” she said, smiling. “And thank you.”
“You want to go out now?” Jeremy asked Adrien.
“She’s still missing.”
“And you think she’s just west of here, hidden in the wilderness?” Jeremy asked.
“Jimmy Trent’s place isn’t far from here. All we know is that a Carl or Carlos has her. We believe he intends to sell her, as a slave, as a victim for some sick bastard to cut to pieces, we don’t know.” He hesitated, shrugging. “Everyone is on it. Rangers, local police, FDLE, deputies, tribal police . . .”
“All smart enough to take it slow in this kind of darkness,” Jeremy said. “I have the trailer hitched. I can take you and the horses close to the wilderness, but I’m going to suggest you grab a few hours’ sleep. And I’m also going to suggest you choose the airboat over the horses.”
It would be a sensible choice, and Adrien knew it. First, wandering around in the pitch darkness that could conceal the wetlands might not be at all a profitable use of time.
And it was true, too; it would be far more sensible to wait for daylight when they could easily access the hardwood hammocks where someone might be keeping a woman prisoner.
He couldn’t shake the fear that the man who had Kasey Richardson might move by night.
“You have an airboat?” Vicky asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Seriously, it will be light in a little more than five hours, just breaking light, but that’s what you’ll need,” Jeremy said. “And by the way, I talked to Mike. His people are all over this.”
“Who is Mike?” Vicky asked.
“Mike Buffalo. We’re close to Miccosukee tribal lands here, and no one knows that area—and the National Park—like Mike,” Adrien said, looking at his brother. “All right; I think you’re right. But at first hint of light—”
“I’ll get you to the airboat,” Jeremy promised. “Come on in. Mandy thought you’d be reasonable. She has the place set for you.”
Adrien turned to look at Vicky.
“I’m not going anywhere!” she told him.
Jeremy grinned and opened the door. Adrien swept out a hand, and she walked into the house.
As Jeremy had said, Mandy was waiting for them. His sister-in-law was a tall woman, perhaps six-one or so, with short, stylish dark hair and a quick smile.
“So, you come home for less than twenty-four hours, and we have five new dogs and a slumber party going on,” she teased. “As you can see, you’re set up for a few hours. Jeremy assured me you weren’t an idiot, and you’d listen to reason.”
Adrien laughed. “I’m not an idiot, I’m just feeling desperate to save that woman’s life,” he told her. He turned and introduced Vicky to Mandy, who immediately offered them something to drink or eat.
They hadn’t eaten. Adrien realized he was famished.
“You have any power bars or something easy?” he asked Mandy.
“Better than that. I saved two plates. I’ll just heat them up quickly,” Mandy assured them.
“I’ll give you a hand,” Jeremy told his wife.
They headed for the kitchen. Adrien turned to Vicky. She was looking around the room, noting the living room offered a convertible sofa, but one with the legs extending in three sections with a foldable section in the middle with cupholders and phone chargers.
The two end sections had been supplied with pillows and sheets.
Vicky turned to look at him. “Wow. Um, nice. My family is great, but . . .”
He shrugged. “I was called in on this for a reason,” he reminded her. “You’re all right with all this? I don’t think your job description calls for treks through snake-infested territory—”
“My job description says I go where I need to go. And I love airboats. And yes, I’ve been on them many times. Still, one day, I’d love to meet the horses.”
“I’m sure we can arrange that,” he told her. “But you’re on board with this—”
“Yeah, I’m just going to call Eames and Hank and bring them up to speed,” she said. “And yes, they’ll still be up.”
She pulled out her phone and spoke quickly. When she finished the call, she looked at him with a grimace. “Hank will be here by a quarter of six. He thinks you’re right, and we need to join those who are searching for Kasey in the Everglades.”
Jeremy and Mandy returned, carrying trays. “Lasagna. Easy to reheat,” Mandy said. “Hope it’s okay—”
“Okay? No, it’s brilliant! Thank you!” Vicky said, accepting the tray Mandy offered her.
“All right; we’re going to get our five hours,” Jeremy said. “You’ll notice you’re eating on paper—just toss when you’re done. See you in the a.m.”
“Thank you!” Vicky called again, as Jeremy and Mandy waved and headed down the hallway that led to the bedrooms.
“Of course!” came a reply from Mandy.
“Okay, so, eat, sleep,” Adrien said.
“And it’s delicious. I must admit, I forgot all about food today,” Vicky murmured. “And I do suppose this is the right thing to do. And I even suppose people who know the Everglades better than I ever will are out there, but . . .”
“We’re doing the right thing,” he assured her.
She smiled, glancing his way. “You’re right. And this is . . . well, you do have family in the right places!”
“The boys have school tomorrow. I’m kind of sad you won’t meet them. Ah, but I did promise you were going to get to meet Shiloh and the rest of the horses, so . . .”
“Where are all the dogs?” she asked.
“They have a kennel. It isn’t full of cages. It’s a little house with dog beds all over. They close it up at night; bad things do happen now and then—for dogs. Creatures come out from the waterways, animals can break fences . . . they just make sure they’re secure for the night.”
“But not protecting the grounds?”
“If someone who didn’t belong here drove in, you’d hear them.”
“They didn’t bark when we came!”
“I guess they like you.”
She grinned at that. Then quickly covered her mouth as she yawned. They’d been talking, but he saw they’d both cleaned their plates.
“Let me take your tray—water? You want some water?” he asked her.
“That would be great.”
He dumped the trash, wiped the trays, and took two bottles of water from the refrigerator and returned to her and handed her a bottle.
“Thank you!”
“Okay, so . . .”
“Wish I had a toothbrush,” she said. She grinned at him. “For your benefit.”
“Well, head into the bathroom. Mandy keeps extras in the cabinet beneath the sink.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I’m not. If you wanted a new outfit, I’m sure she could provide that, as well.”
Vicky laughed. “If I’m going to go prowling around in the Everglades, I’ll just stick with this. But I will brush my teeth!”
She set her water in the holder and headed toward the hallway.
“First door on your left!” he told her.
“Thanks!”
She returned in a few minutes and curled into her chair. “We’ve got five hours,” he told her, leaving her to head to the bathroom himself.
“Right. I hope we can sleep.”
They could. When he returned, she was already curled into the chair, red hair spilling around her. It might have been a hell of a long day, but she still somehow managed to look like a sleeping princess. Fluff. Nope, she wasn’t fluff. The more time they spent together, the more he liked her and admired her. The more . . .
The more he realized he was growing more—and more—attracted to her.
No. They were both mission-oriented. They had shared tense situations and hours. With more to come.
He closed his own eyes. But it took him a few minutes to sleep. He was simply and acutely aware she was there, so close to him.
But sleep did claim him. And then the buzz of his phone and the slowly dawning light of day came far too soon.
“This is amazing,” Hank said, settling into the seat of the airboat next to Vicky.
She grimaced and nodded. “Go figure, the Fed can provide, not through a government agency, but through his brother. I realized we could have requisitioned—”
“Yeah. An airboat. And it would have taken forever, and I don’t think I’m the airboat captain this guy is!” he said, his words for her ears only, which wasn’t difficult; the motor was loud.
Vicky smiled and nodded. Yes, her cowboy had turned out to be an asset. Who knew they’d find an agent with so many workable properties when they’d been told they were getting federal assistance?
They’d heard from Mike, Miccosukee police, who had told them they’d searched during the night. He had given Adrien several locations where he’d already searched; but Vicky had to admit, she didn’t know what the locations were or where exactly they might be, though Adrien had.
Mike was giving up the ghost for a few hours, grabbing sleep as they had.
Despite their mission, the morning was oddly beautiful. The sun was rising high in the sky, surrounded by a few light and puffy clouds. They could hear the occasional call of birds over the sound of the airboat motor, and the air rushing by them felt damp and cool.
The airboat motor suddenly cut off. The boat drifted toward a hammock, and Adrien expertly maneuvered it in closely to the hardwood hammock that had suddenly seemed to loom before them.
“Sorry, no way out of getting our feet wet,” Adrien said.
“They’ve been wet before,” Vicky assured him, glad that while they weren’t the right kind for a hike through the wetlands, she had worn knee-high boots with the little sundress she’d chosen to lure out the kidnappers.
“Yeah, true, but still, honestly? Yuck!” Hank said, but he stepped out of the airboat with a shrug, ignoring the shallow rush of water that greeted him before he could step to the dry land of the hammock.
“There’s a kit in the boat, but obviously, watch out for snakes,” Adrien advised.
“And don’t go pulling any alligator tails!” Hank told Vicky.
“I’ll do my best to resist,” Vicky promised.
They began to move through the cypress trees, with Adrien taking the lead.
Vicky did love the Everglades, but when she usually came out, it was to Shark Valley. It was part of the park, a place with walking and biking trails, a tower from which one could see forever—and park rangers. She had always thought it was pretty wonderful that such a natural habitat could be so accessible to massive cities, and it was a place to leave the concrete world behind. The cypress trees were beautiful, the mangrove swamps were haunting, the birds were exotic and stunning and . . .
Yeah, well, the alligators. But unless someone accidentally disturbed a nest or, seriously, tried to grab a tail or play with the beasts, keeping a distance from them provided decent safety. Then again, the creatures did wander onto golf courses and even into pools. And after one of the storms, a slew of the creatures had taken refuge in the downstairs of a Fort Myers bank.
Snakes.
Okay, she wasn’t so fond of snakes, and she did keep a wary eye on her surroundings as they made their way through trails that weren’t really trails—just areas less heavily foliaged than others.
“We have a destination in mind?” Vicky asked.
She remembered thinking at first that Adrien was a showman, a braggart out to strut his stuff at the rodeo to prove his manhood....
“We do,” he said. “There’s a chikee out here that dates back to the end of the Seminole Wars, that was redone by hunters in the 1950s. It was taken over by the state when they out-ruled such structures in the area, but it was so well built in the 1950s that weekend warriors still like to come here, drink beer—and shoot beer cans.”
“And you know about it because?” Hank asked him.
Adrien paused a second, looking back. He shrugged. “My dad went with friends to shoot beer cans a few times.”
“And you think this Carl guy would know this old shack—” Hank began.
“There are actually a lot of these old ruins around. The park wasn’t established until the 1930s, dedicated in the 1940s, and it’s the third-largest in the U.S. It protects the ecosystem, about three hundred species of wading birds, the American crocodile, the West Indian manatee—”
“And the coral snake and other creepy crawlers!” Vicky added.
“Hey, except for pythons and boas, the snakes were here first,” Adrien said lightly.
He stopped abruptly.
Vicky, between him and Hank, almost crashed into him.
“What?”
“There is someone there,” he said quietly, drawing his Glock.
“How—”
“The sawgrass is overgrown except for there . . . leading to the door. I’ll take the direct route,” Adrien said.
“I’ll take the back,” Vicky said.
“And I’ll cover you both,” Hank advised them.
Adrien was right about the old chikee/shack. Obviously legal or not, those who knew about it had made use of it through the years. It was a structure mainly composed of cypress, Vicky thought, and for something that should have decayed years ago, it appeared to be in excellent condition.
He was also right about the sawgrass. She treaded carefully, trying not to let the field of saw-edged foliage tear into her while hurrying around at the same time.
Massive cypress trees provided shade. The rear of the cabin was almost completely surrounded by them.
Vicky made her way around the house with her gun drawn. There was no door in the back, but there was a window opening, and she hurried to it.
“Found her! And it’s clear!” Adrien shouted.
Vicky ran around to the front of the house. The door hadn’t been burst open; Adrien had simply pushed it, and the old wood had given.
Hank had joined them.
Even as Vicky entered, Adrien was hunkering down to the floor.
Kasey Richardson lay there, red hair now dyed black. She had been chained to an old structural post and appeared to be...
Not dead, not dead! Vicky prayed.
“She’s got a pulse!” Adrien said. “She hasn’t been harmed, I don’t think. I don’t see blood—”
The girl opened her eyes. And staring up at Adrien, she began to scream.
Vicky moved forward quickly, assuring her, “Hey, Kasey, it’s all right, we’re the good guys, I promise, we’re here to rescue you—”
“He’s coming, he’s coming back. He’ll be here. He . . . he . . . said they’ll kill me if I’m not obedient, and it will be worse than being torn apart by dogs!” Kasey cried. “He’s coming back, he’s coming back!”
“We need to get her to a hospital,” Hank said. “And quickly. I’ll call it in—”
He had his phone out.
“Good luck getting a signal,” Adrien told him.
“We must get her to a hospital and back to safety,” Hank said.
“No!” Kasey shrieked. “We must hide, he’s coming back! He told me to behave, that he’d be back and . . . I don’t know when he left. I fell asleep. I . . .”
“It’s okay, it’s okay. We’re here, and we’re not going to let anything happen to you,” Vicky assured her.
She looked at Adrien and Hank.
“We need to get her out of here.”
“Wait. Stop!” Adrien said. “Get down!” he ordered.
Vicky obeyed instantly, watching as Adrien made his way to the front-facing window. He turned and nodded at Vicky and Hank.
They nodded. Hank took up a position where he could look—and fire—out the door. Vicky was about to take the other side of the window.
Kasey grabbed her ankle.
“Don’t leave me!” she pleaded.
“It’s all right; we’re here. I’ll be right there,” Vicky assured her.
She joined Adrien at the window.
They saw someone coming along a trail, not the almost-trail they had just traversed, but one that led from the cabin to the far right.
Vicky thought it might lead toward a road on the eastern edge of the wetlands, close to a road—or something that resembled a road—until the wetlands became untenable by anything short of a canoe or airboat.
A man was approaching. He was wearing jeans and a khaki shirt and a baseball cap. He was perhaps in his early fifties, sporting a full beard and carrying what appeared to be a semi-automatic weapon.
“Hey! Carl, you are no liar! She’s in the cabin?” He shouted back to someone.
“Yes. I told you I dyed her hair for you, except it’s really a rinse. You can turn her back into a redhead in seconds flat. Once we get her out of here. Of course, no problem getting her to your car, but we’ll have to take care getting to the boat.”
The second speaker was still invisible. The first stopped suddenly.
He lifted his rifle and aimed at the cabin.
“What the hell are you doing?” the man behind shouted.
But the first man was already firing, shouting in return.
“You ass! There’s someone in there. She’s not alone. Come out, come out, come out or I’ll shoot the entire place down to the ground!”
Wood chips flew. A bullet soared through the window, crashing into the rear wall.
Kasey Richardson screamed and screamed . . .
“She’s dead, you’re dead, you’re dead . . . come out now!”
Bullets flew again.
Vicky looked at Adrien, who nodded.
They had no choice.
It was time to return fire.
They did so.
The man went down. Hank shouted, “Cover me!”
“Carl is still out there, maybe more—” Vicky warned.
“Whoever Carl is, trust me. He’s run. He’s not stupid; he knows now we’ve found his little hideout. He’s gone.”
Adrien was right. Hank was ducked low as he ran out to check on the man who had been riddling the cabin with bullets, but he was down now.
“He’s alive!” Hank shouted.
“Yeah, caught him with a glancing shot, he’ll have a concussion and one hell of a headache. He needs medical, but . . .” He paused, his jaw clenched as he looked off in the direction that “Carl” or “Carlos” had run. “We have to catch that bastard!” Adrien muttered fiercely.
“Yes, but first, we have the man you shot, and we’re obliged to see he gets medical attention. And Kasey needs help. She’s terrified,” Vicky reminded him.
The girl was curled into a ball on the floor, sobbing hysterically.
“Right,” Adrien said.
“So—”
“I’m on it!” he assured her.
He stepped outside the cabin and brought his hand to his jaw. Suddenly, the air seemed to be filled with the loudest bird call Vicky had ever heard.
He stared back at her, shrugging. “Sandhill crane,” he told her.
A second later, the call was returned.
Vicky and Hank both stared at Adrien.
“Backup,” he told them.
And it seemed that barely a minute later, they saw someone coming through the trees again, this time, from the same direction from which they had come themselves.
There were two men, dressed in the uniforms of the tribal police.
“Mike! Hey, you didn’t sleep long,” Adrien said, stepping forward to greet the men.
“Well, you know!”
Mike Buffalo stepped forward, a man of about Adrien’s age, slightly shorter, Native American, a handsome man with straight dark hair, dark eyes, and a quick smile.
His companion was slightly smaller, but also of the same age, and smiling as he greeted Adrien, giving him a handshake.
Adrien quickly introduced the group.
“Mike Buffalo, Lance Panther, meet Vicky Henderson and Hank Brannigan,” Adrien said. “Mike is Miccosukee Tribal Police and Lance is with the Seminole Tribal Police. Reservation land and National Park land and privately owned land butts together here and there—”
“And we’re all trying to stop this, but at least you guys got the young woman!” Mike said. He shook his head. “We’ve heard rumors about disappearances in the state and beyond. But those disappearances I believe involved kidnapping high-risk victims. Those down and out, prostitutes, the homeless, human life every bit as valuable, but without family or friends to insist on help, to persist until they were found, especially when they don’t know if people just moved on.... Anyway, we’ve got help coming; I’ll send men back out—”
“As will I,” Lance assured them.
“And we’ve got a forewarned group of EMTs coming through with the right equipment to get your injured man and Miss Richardson out of the wetlands and to a hospital. We’ll hang in until they arrive—”
“Please! Please!”
They all turned. Kasey Richardson was standing by the door, hanging on to the frame, staring at Vicky.
“Please! Please, don’t . . . I need you!”
Vicky lowered her head for a minute. She wanted to be on the chase; she wanted the man who had caused all this suffering to be caught. More. She wanted to know what he’d been doing, and she wanted to find out if there were more victims somewhere who needed to be found.
But she looked at Adrien and Hank and nodded.
She would go where it seemed she was so desperately needed.
“I’ll figure out how to catch up with you,” she said.
“Not to worry,” Mike Buffalo told her. He grinned at Adrien. “I can get you to him. We’ve been finding each other for years! Did he tell you we were in what might have been the worst rock band ever together?”
Vicky smiled. “No, he didn’t mention that,” she said. She turned back to Kasey. “I’ll be with you to the hospital. I’m sure your folks will be with you soon!”
“Oh, thank you, thank you!”
She was crying again, but she seemed calmer. She walked to Vicky, only staggering slightly, and put her arms around Vicky, who held her gently in return.
“All right, Mike, Lance, thank you. Hank, we’re moving that way!” Adrien said.
He looked at Vicky, and she knew that he knew she wanted desperately to be with them on their hunt, but she wouldn’t leave a victim in Kasey’s damaged state when that victim seemed to need her so badly.
Adrien smiled and nodded quickly. “Mike can find me,” he assured her.
He turned and walked into the wilderness. Hank gave her a nod and an understanding smile and followed in his wake.
Vicky, keeping an arm securely around Kasey, turned to Mike and Lance.
“Rock band, eh?” she said lightly.
“They weren’t that bad! Honestly!” Lance said, laughing. “They were even almost kind-of-sometimes close to good!”
They heard a groaning come from the ground. The man with the semi-automatic was coming around.
“I’ve got this,” Lance told them. But even as he approached the injured man, more officers and EMTs made their way through the hammock.
“More on the rock band later, I guess,” Mike told Vicky. “We’ll get this young woman where she needs to be and head back out. Don’t worry, I will find Adrien. And we will find the monster who has caused all this!”
She nodded and smiled.
“I don’t doubt you in the least!” she assured him.
And her words were solidly honest.