Chapter Twenty-Six
The house was only two streets over from Crescent, so Max had been close.
The girl was twenty-seven years old, and her name was Emma Shope. Her husband was Lee, and he was an abusive, controlling asshole who she’d finally worked up the strength to leave.
Emma began hiding money, and she had a single packed suitcase stashed in the attic.
One morning after he left for work, she gathered her hidden cash and her suitcase, put her cat in its carrier, and walked to the door.
She’d planned to take a bus out of town, then set up a new life across the country.
She didn’t know if she could make it, but she knew she had to try.
The ghost knew that Lee hadn’t actually gone to work. He’d discovered the suitcase in the attic. He’d found some of the money. He hadn’t taken it, though, because he wanted to catch her actually trying to leave.
“She was scared to death,” Lucy murmured. “But it was her last chance. She kept repeating that to herself. ‘It’s my last chance.’”
No one spoke as I drove and we listened to Lucy, dread thick in the car.
“He was waiting for her. Just as she reached the front door, he gave a horrible roar, which paralyzed her, just paralyzed her, and rushed from hiding to grab her. He made her watch as he opened the carrier and tossed her cat outside, where it had never in its life been, and then he took her to the attic and chained her up. She’s been there ever since. ”
“Her family?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Lucy said, “but I got the sense she either has no close family, they’re estranged, or he’s isolated her to the point where they just don’t communicate.”
“Her captivity ends today,” I said grimly. “How has the cat been surviving, Lucy?”
“The neighbors put out food for strays,” she said. “She survives, though the other cats aren’t easy on her.”
“Are you running him out of town, killing him, or calling Rick?” Remy asked.
I shook my head. “I’ll know when I see him, I guess. Remy, have you got zip ties on you?”
“I do,” he answered. “Seems like you have a plan after all, then?”
“Not really, but if she wants it, I’d like to give Emma a chance to beat the fuck out of him before I figure out what to do with him.”
“It’s different with the humans,” Zach said, as though he wasn’t one. “If you restrain him and kick his ass, there’s a really good chance you’ll get charged with kidnapping and assault along with the breaking and entering. It won’t matter that you went in to rescue Emma.”
“He’s right, Kait,” Lucy said. “Call Rick.”
“There’s supernatural activity,” I told them. “I can go into the house.” Then I sighed. “I’ll go in, restrain him, and then call Rick. In the meantime, if he just happens to get loose and goes after Emma, I’ll have an excuse to rough him up.”
Remy laughed. “There you go,” he said.
“I just want Emma and her kitty to be safe,” Lucy murmured. “And the ghost, Kait.”
“I’ll help her cross over,” I told her.
Just before we reached the house, I stopped at a convenience store to get cat food. I doubted the asshole who’d tossed her out would have kept her food in the house.
“Don’t let him run,” I told Zach and Remy, and then I pulled in behind his car, and we sat for a few seconds looking at the house and getting a feel for the place.
“There’s the cat,” Zach said.
“And there’s the ghost,” I murmured, and pulled out my cell phone to call Rick.
“You found her?” he asked.
“We found her,” I told him, and gave him the address. “I’m going in, Rick. But you should probably get here pretty soon because I’m going to want to hurt him.”
“On my way,” he said.
We got out of the car. The little white cat sat quietly, and she kept her stare on me even as Zach and Remy jogged away, Remy going to the left side of the house, Zach to the right.
“I’ve got food, sweetie,” I told her, “but I’m taking you inside to eat it.” She didn’t resist at all, other than a flinch when I first picked her up, but she gave a small meow and sat quietly in my arms.
Then I looked at the ghost, who was watching with a spark of interest in her eyes. She’d talked to Lucy in Lucy’s…dream, so she knew why I was there.
She drifted to the door, then looked back at me before she slipped through. “Hurry,” she said. “The girl is not doing well.”
I rang the doorbell, the cat securely in my arms, and waited.
I heard footsteps on the other side of the door, even though the person was trying to be quiet. I was a wolf, and my hearing was exceptional. I heard him gently and nervously clear his throat as he peered through the fisheye.
I rang the doorbell again. “I’ve found your cat,” I said, trying for loud and cheerful, but any idiot would have heard the threat in my voice.
He opened the door, which was good, because I really didn’t want to have to kick in the door while holding an already traumatized cat. She might have tried to jump from my arms and run off to hide, and I did not want to lose her.
More than anything else, she’d be the thing that brought Emma out of her despair. Because at first, and maybe for a long time to come, Emma wasn’t going to believe she was truly free of her husband.
Lee Shope was around my height, bulky with muscle, buzz cut, cold green eyes. “Can I help you?” he asked, his voice soft but with an unmistakable and likely constant layer of anger beneath it.
“I found your cat. She was sitting on your porch, poor thing, looking quite hungry and scratched up.”
“You can have the cat,” he said. “I don’t want it.”
“Oh,” I said. “Okay. I’ll need her carrier, please.”
He pushed the door closed and went back in to grab her carrier, probably thinking it was just going to be that easy. When he returned with the carrier, I took it and set it in the doorway so he couldn’t close the door.
The cat was pushing herself away from him and as far against me as she could go, and my anger grew.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” I told her, then urged her gently into the carrier.
I opened the small container of food and put it in there with her, but I wasn’t sure she’d eat while she was so obviously frightened.
I slid the carrier to the side. “I’ll be back for you in just a minute,” I told her.
He frowned. “You can’t leave it there.”
I stood. “It’s just for a moment. I’m going up to the attic to get Emma first.”
He gaped at me. “What?” Then he immediately tried to slam the door in my face.
But that wasn’t happening. And when he figured out I was coming in after him, he did what he liked to do to women. He attempted to beat me up. To control me.
I let him get in two good punches.
And that gave me my excuse to kick his ass.
“Kait,” Remy called, coming into the room. “Smile for the camera.”
He took a couple of quick pictures of my bloody face, just in case, and Zach came in through the front door with the cat carrier and gave me a wave as he went on through the room and out of sight.
Then Remy put his hands in his pockets, whistling as he walked around the room, looking at the knickknacks, the books, the paintings.
I didn’t want to knock Lee Shope unconscious, so before I was quite ready to stop pummeling him, I shoved him from the room. “Take me to her,” I told him, “or I will really hurt you.”
Still, he resisted. He knew if we found what was in the attic, it was the end of him. And he knew we would find the attic, but maybe he held out some hope that he’d escape. People had strange thoughts when they were stressed.
He reverse headbutted me, breaking my nose and splattering more blood.
My rage exploded then, and I turned him around, slammed him against the wall, and let my wolf come out to play—but only for a second.
Only enough for him to see rage, fangs, and my wolf’s eyes.
I roared into his face, and he screamed like a bobcat during mating season.
Then he passed out.
“Dammit,” I said, forcing myself to calm down. “Remy, restrain this useless bastard. I’m going to take Emma her cat.”
I let Shope fall to the floor and turned to find the ghost standing beside me, insubstantial and fading, but smiling. “I’ll show you the way,” she said.
“You don’t need help crossing over, do you?” I asked.
She shook her head and faded a little more. “Come.”
I lifted the cat out of her carrier and followed the ghost all the way to the attic.
The house itself was pleasant. Nice furniture, clean, perfect wood floors. Apparently Lee was a bit of a neat freak.
The attic, though, was a whole different story.
There were narrow, somewhat rickety stairs leading up, and when I pushed open the door, I saw none of the sterility of the house. The attic was packed, dusty, depressing.
And way back in the large room was a bed. The frame was metal, and Lee had chained Emma to it with a cuff around her ankle and a chain.
She was a small woman, dark hair, pale skin. He’d dressed her in a sleeveless nightgown, and there were bruises on her arms, her legs, and her throat. Some were old and fading, some were fresh.
The bare mattress she lay on was stained with blood and God only knew what else. She kept her face turned to the wall, but I was sure that when she looked at me, I’d see bruises there, as well.
“Emma,” I said, rage warring with pity. “My name is Kait. Lee has been…controlled, and you’re safe. I’m going to get you out of here.”
She didn’t respond at all until I placed her little cat at her side. The cat meowed, and Emma gasped and then came to life. She sat up, her movements careful, and snatched the cat to her chest.
She buried her face in its fur and began to sob.
I took pictures with my phone camera, which I’d give to Rick later. I took photos of the chain, the cuff, the bruises.
And just when I started to text Zach to ask him to find the key to the cuffs, I saw it hanging on a hook on the wall, maybe an inch out of her reach. I wondered if she’d tried to reach it, in the beginning, while he watched and laughed at her failed attempts.
Rick arrived as I was unlocking the cuff. He took one look at the girl and her battered body, then took my arm and pulled me aside.
Emma didn’t attempt to move off the bed, even with her ankle free of the cuff. She didn’t seem to notice us much at all.
“I think he’s been torturing her since she married him,” I told Rick.
“I have a team coming.” He sighed, and for an instant, he hooked my hand with his. “It never ends, does it?”
I thought of all the ghosts I saw. “Maybe,” I murmured. “Eventually.” I squeezed his fingers, worried because he looked so tired. “I think Lee Shope would have killed her soon.”
Finally, Emma was ready to talk to us. Her eyes were huge and dry in her pale face, her lips chapped and peeling. I had no idea what was going on inside her battered body, but I had to believe she would be okay.
“I’m Kait,” I told her, “and this is Detective Moreno. He’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
“Can I have a drink of water?”
I knew better than to give her food or water. “The paramedics are on the way, Emma. You’ll get everything you need.”
She nodded. Then, “Is he dead?”
I felt guilty for having to tell her that the monster she was married to was still alive. “He’s not dead. He’s in police custody.”
“He won’t ever leave me alone. He will find a way to kill me. Even from jail. If he even goes to jail.”
I clenched my teeth, anger flaring once again.
I honestly wished I’d killed him. “If you need me, please call me.” I slid my fingers into my pocket and pulled out one of the business cards Max had made, then handed it to her.
“Lee won’t get near you again, Emma. But if anything at all happens and you need me, you call that number. I mean it.”
I felt Rick’s hand on my back. “Kait,” he said.
I straightened, hesitant to leave her. “People are coming to help you,” I said. And because there was nothing more I could do, I turned to leave as the room began filling up with police and paramedics.
I was glad Lee Shope was no longer downstairs, because I wasn’t sure I could have controlled myself. Some people shouldn’t exist.
But Emma was alive, and I believed she would eventually find joy in life, with her little cat.
I really believed she would.