Chapter Fifteen
Finding the cabin was easy this time. She basically walked straight to it. The only real problem Charly had was that it was approaching full-on dark. She had maybe thirty or forty minutes, possibly a little more, before she wouldn’t be able to see without her flashlight.
She had to move fast. But first, she needed to get her bearings, so for a long moment she stood very still and considered where she was relative to the rental cabins on the Rogerses’ property.
She pictured north and south in her mind.
The front outer boundary of the Lost in the Woods Getaway should be straight ahead of where she was standing.
Of course there were acres and acres of woods between her and that front entrance.
But it was all about imagining where she was with respect to everything else.
Her father had taught her to do that whenever she thought she was lost. The way she had explored when she was little, she had gotten lost in their woods plenty of times.
“Here goes nothing,” she muttered as she set off.
The rifle was slung over her shoulder, the leather strap digging into her flesh with the weight of it.
She’d tucked the bottle of water into one back pocket and her phone, set to vibrate, in the other.
She held the old-fashioned Maglite flashlight in her right hand.
It had been her father’s. It was a damned good flashlight and heavy enough to be used as a weapon if needed.
She would much prefer using it to aim the rifle at someone.
But she would do whatever necessary to protect herself.
She walked with a light step. That was something else her father had taught her.
There was walking and there was stomping.
Deer walked. People stomped. At least when it came to exploring the woods, he would explain.
The man had been over six feet and about one hundred eighty pounds and he walked like a cat. Soundless. Purposeful.
As she traveled through the trees, skirting the thicker masses of shrubs and undergrowth, she thought of how Briana and her husband may have escaped the old cabin.
Had they been caught and taken to a different location?
Maybe another place on the property. Or was all the effort too late?
Maybe those signs of movement around the cabin were from when they were picked up by the really bad guys.
They could be far away from here by now. Or worse…dead.
What kind of person sold another human being like a piece of furniture?
She was just about to click on the flashlight when she heard a voice. She stopped…didn’t move…didn’t even breathe.
A light came on in the near distance.
Cabin.
Charly must have reached the edge of the Getaway area. Like the cabins at her place, these were scattered at good distances apart to provide greater privacy. She estimated the one she was approaching sat the farthest from the property entrance and business office.
“Just calm down.”
Male.
Not a voice Charly recognized, at least not from this distance. That he’d growled the words didn’t help, either.
If she was going to identify the person speaking, she needed to be closer. Slowly…carefully…she eased in the direction of the light. She paused just long enough to shift the Maglite so that she was holding it like a hammer ready to swing.
Another voice shattered the silence. “You don’t understand. He may say the wrong thing if we don’t intervene.”
Female. Shrill.
The woman speaking was upset, and Charly recognized her identity as well as why she was upset.
Laney Rogers was distraught that her son was being questioned by the sheriff. Was the man whose voice Charly heard the woman’s husband, Kerwin?
Charly moved closer. She needed to hear what they were saying. Surely, Laney and her husband had no idea what their son was doing…but Charly couldn’t be certain. No, she decided, that couldn’t be right. Laney was condescending and sometimes rude but she wasn’t…
“The single problem we have is the necklace,” the man said.
Not the husband.
Charly went cold…ice-cold. She recognized the voice. Laney said something else but the words were lost to Charly’s utter denial.
No. That couldn’t be right. She had to have heard wrong.
She needed to hear him again. She needed to hear better.
A few more steps and she would be right next to that window. She would be able to hear far better. The windows in these older cabins were single pane. Everything could be heard through them if standing fairly close.
Charly’s chest felt tight as she eased in nearer to the structure.
“What are you doing?” Laney demanded.
Charly listened intently to see what the man would say next. Was he calling someone?
“Charly.”
She swung around, her heart in her throat. Flashlight raised.
Even in the darkness she could see the barrel of his handgun. Maybe the dim light from the window made it more visible…made it all the more eerie. But the sight of it was not as startling to her as the man’s identity.
“Charly. Charly. Charly. What am I going to do with you?”
She had been wrong. So so wrong.
How could a man she had known and trusted…one whose shoulder she had cried on…whom she had adored like an uncle be involved in this?
She fought back the shock and squared her shoulders. “Hello, Paul.”
Marshall County Sheriff’s Department
Blount Avenue, 8:45 p.m.
BILLIE HADN’T CALLED one of the agency attorneys.
He had known the sheriff would have to release him sooner rather than later.
He had nothing to hold Billie on unless trespassing or breaking and entering was being charged.
Since that hadn’t happened, it was only a matter of time before he could walk.
The door opened once more and Billie waited while the sheriff made himself comfortable on the other side of the table. “Cohen tells me,” Malone said, “that you’re sticking to your story about knowingly trespassing and breaking and entering.”
“I wouldn’t think of telling you anything less than the truth.” Billie held his gaze until the other man flinched.
“Well, you proved the necklace—or at least one like it—belonged to your sister. Considering it would be a pretty big coincidence if it belonged to someone else and we’ve established that you don’t believe in coincidences, I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt here and assuming the necklace you found belonged to Briana Willard. ”
“Belongs,” Billie corrected. Malone looked confused. “Belonged is past tense. My sister is alive. We just have to find her before it’s too late.”
“If we’re lucky,” Malone agreed. “To that end, I’m holding Kerrick Rogers overnight. See if he’ll give us anything.”
“Did he call an attorney?” A smart man would. Billie hoped he wasn’t that smart.
Malone shrugged. “He would if I let him but I’m not.”
Billie laughed, couldn’t help himself. “You’re telling me you’re ignoring his legal right to counsel?”
“Nope.” Malone shook his head. “I just didn’t give him the chance to ask for one.
” His gaze narrowed. “I’ve been doing this job a long time, Mr. Jagger.
I can read people pretty good. Kerrick has something to tell me.
He just hasn’t worked up the courage to do it yet.
I’m giving him time to get right with himself without outside interference. ”
Billie gave him a nod. “I’m sure you are aware that you can’t pull a tactic like that on me.”
“I’m aware all right.” He stretched his neck, right then left. “This is what I think, Mr. Hotshot PI. Kerrick has gotten himself involved with some bad people and he’s acting as a scout—I think they call them in the business.”
They might not be on the same page but they were certainly in the same chapter, so Billie waited for him to go on.
“I can’t be sure, of course. Maybe one of his friends dragged him into it. I don’t know that part yet but we’re rounding up Perry Hillard and Finn Grayson. We’ll put a little fear in them, see what they spill.”
“Does that mean I’m free to go?” Billie asked, weary of the waiting game.
“That’s what I came to tell you.” Malone pushed back his chair. “You are free to go. Your SUV is waiting outside. If we have more questions or if the Rogers family wants to pursue any sort of charges, I’ll be in touch.”
Billie had a feeling the Rogers family had no idea about any of this just yet. Not that he minded. He stood and followed the man from the room. In the corridor he asked, “Where’s Charly?”
Malone mulled over the question a moment. “Oh yeah. Deputy Lathan took her home just after seven.”
Worry nagged at Billie. “Thanks.”
He strode out of the station and hurried to his SUV. If Charly had been taken directly home, Billie didn’t trust her not to go off on her own. As he drove away, he called her cell.
Three rings and then voice mail.
“Damn it.”
He drove faster.
It took what felt like a lifetime to reach Deep Woods Trail. He made the turn and pulled up to her cabin, parked next to an SUV he recognized as belonging to Shelly…the assistant that helped Charly out from time to time.
He exited the vehicle, scanning the area around him for any sign of trouble.
Whatever else had happened tonight, at least some of the players Billie was convinced were involved in Briana’s and Martin’s abductions had been given a wakeup call.
They now knew with a full measure of certainty that he was here, and he intended to take them down just as soon as he found his sister and her husband.
But he did not want Charly to pay the price for his moves. He’d already allowed her to grow far too deeply involved, putting her directly in the line of fire.
He knocked on the door. Waited for her to answer, but when the door opened it was Shelly. Judging by the look on her face, she was in serious distress.
“Where’s Charly?” he asked as he stepped inside.
“I don’t know. She left just before eight. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t listen.” Her hands wrung together in front of her. “I haven’t heard back from her in all this time, and I’ve called her cell and it just goes to voice mail.”