Chapter 27 The Woman from Nowhere #2
Still not functionally computing, I went to recent calls, hit Hutch’s name under Kacey’s as I raced to the front door to check if it was locked.
Two rings and I was racing to the side door.
“Hey, babe, what’s up?”
“Hutch,” I pushed out, shades of her terror and desperation in his name.
“Talk to me,” he barked.
“A woman. In a nightgown. Running to the cabin from the cult. Screaming for help. They caught her, Hutch. They took her—”
“Did you call 911?”
Oh my God.
What was I thinking?
“No,” I breathed.
“I’m on my way.” And he sounded like he was running. “Call them. Get up in your bathroom. Lock the door. Call and go.”
He hung up.
I ran to the stairs calling, “Tonks, come. Come now.”
She darted to me.
My heart cracked because I’d have to hope Moxie was okay if they thought of coming back, but I couldn’t delay this call to look for her or delay getting to the bathroom.
As I wound my way up the stairs, I dialed 911.
I hit the bathroom, Tonks came in with me, and bless her soul, Moxie dashed in after him.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
I slammed and locked the door, and Tonks started howling again as I was saying, “I’m Mabel Adams. Four four five oh County Road Ten.
A woman from The Lion and The Lamb escaped.
I saw her running. She was yelling for help.
Send people. Send units. Whatever. They caught her. They’re taking her back. Send someone.”
“She was running—”
“In a nightgown, in the dark, in the cold, from them, screaming.”
“Okay, ma’am, we have this outfit flagged. Officers have been dispatched. You say she was screaming for help?”
“I just stood there stupidly as she was reaching out to me.”
“You’re doing what you should be doing, ma’am. Staying safe and calling someone who can help. Are you alone?”
“M-my boyfriend is coming. I called him first.”
“Okay, that’s fine.”
It wasn’t okay.
It wasn’t fine.
Harry and his crew were fifteen minutes away.
How much of her time did I waste calling Hutch?
“Are you safe?” she asked.
“Tonks, quiet,” I ordered over her barking.
She whimpered and sniffed the door at which she’d been barking.
“Your dog is doing its job,” the 911 operator said. “I can hear you. Are you safe?”
“My boyfriend told me to lock myself in the bathroom. I’m locked in the bathroom.”
“That’s good. Stay there. Are you sure she was from The Lion and The Lamb?”
“Y-yes. She was wearing an old-fashioned nightgown. And they were definitely from there. Beards and long hair. Definitely.”
“Do you feel you’re in immediate danger?’ she asked.
“No. N-no. They took her and left with her. I’m pretty sure they’re gone. I didn’t hang around to watch.”
“Right. I’m going to let you go. Keep your phone with you. Stay safe. And call back if anything else is happening.”
“Okay.”
“Stay safe. Letting you go now.”
“Bye.”
I disconnected.
I paced.
Hutch lived, at most, five minutes away.
I paced more.
What felt like an hour later, Tonks went berserk again.
But over her, I heard Hutch from downstairs command, “Wait! Guard!”
I closed my eyes tight.
He was here.
I opened my eyes, not knowing if I should open the door or—
I nearly leapt out of my skin when Hutch hammered on it.
“Mabel! Open!”
I opened.
Tonks raced out, still barking.
Hutch had the strap of a rifle around his shoulder.
He looked me up and down, caught me by the back of the head, pulled me forward for the briefest kiss in history on my forehead, then he set me aside, lunged in, scooped up Moxie, turned to me and ordered, “Go!”
I didn’t know where I was going, but I went, out and down the stairs.
Hutch was pounding down after me.
As I ran to the front door, I heard him snap his fingers, looked back and saw him pointing at Hannibal then to me. “Defend!”
Hutch opened my front door, pulled me out, Hannibal crowding me at my side.
We ran to his truck, which was right at the porch steps. He hauled open the door and I watched, dazed, as Hannibal shifted, hind to the truck, to look out into the dark, ears alert, head swinging this way and that.
One armed, Hutch hauled me up and in, dropped Moxie in my lap then slammed the door.
I clutched my cat to my chest.
He opened the back door and grunted, “Hup.”
Tonks jumped in.
Hannibal jumped in.
He rounded the grille, shoved his rifle butt in the area beside my seat, angled in, slammed his door, started the truck and peeled out.
I was squeezing Moxie at my chest, so I forced myself to loosen my hold.
“Harry—”
“I called him on my way to you. He’s on his way.”
“I think Lillian is pregnant.”
Pause, then, “Don’t think about that now.”
She was pregnant.
Oh God!
“What if they have a stockpile of firearms?”
“Don’t think about it, May. Breathe, in, out. Hear me? Breathe, baby.”
I breathed.
It wasn’t working.
I tried again.
It still wasn’t working.
“Baby,” he whispered, “Breathe for me.”
I tried again.
And I breathed.
I kept doing it as we made his house.
We dashed in as we’d dashed out of mine, with Hutch pointing at the locked front door and grunting, “Guard!” to Hannibal, who stood at attention, staring at it.
Hutch guided me to a chair. “Sit.”
I didn’t sit. He pressed me into the chair.
He walked out of the room, the rifle back over his shoulder, and I sat cuddling my cat, Tonks sitting beside me. I was still totally freaking, but at least I was breathing.
I could see, technically.
But in my mind’s eye, all I could see was her reaching out to me.
Hutch came back with a glass of something liquid and brown.
He handed it to me. “Drink.”
“I don’t drink bourbon.”
“Baby, sip it. For me.”
I sipped.
Okay, smooth. Good bourbon. Still kinda yuck.
God help me.
I looked up at him. “Hutch—”
“I need you calm right now, May. Okay?”
His rifle wasn’t over his shoulder anymore.
It was in his hands.
Oh God!
“You think they might come here?” I screeched.
“I think, if they do, I’m gonna be ready. Can you calm for me?”
I nodded.
For the next chunk of what felt like forever, Hutch went from window to window peering out behind curtains with his rifle at the ready.
And I sipped bourbon, pretending I was calm.