Fatal Vendetta. Sharon Dunn
gone. Darkness consumed the road a couple of hundred yards ahead of him. To one side was a stretch of forest. Not even the mechanical clang of a distant car engine met his ears.
Time to call in one of his cop friends. He yanked on the car door.
Zach climbed back into his car, fumbling for his phone at the same time he turned the key in the ignition.
“Hey, Dan, it’s Zach,” he said as soon as the other man picked up. “I think I need your help. I’m out on Old Forsyth Road.” He gave Dan the details of what he’d witnessed as he pulled out onto the road. He scanned three hundred and sixty degrees around him. He wasn’t going to give up, and he wasn’t going to wait for the police.
Whatever it took, he’d find the guy. There couldn’t be that many roads out this way.
He turned onto a side road.
Backup would be nice when it arrived, but he couldn’t wait around for it. A woman’s life was at stake.
* * *
Hope rose up inside Elizabeth when her kidnapper switched off his lights. She turned her head and stared out the back window, seeing only shadows on the road. Someone must have seen the kidnapping and come after her. Why else would he turn off his lights?
As her body jostled on the seat from the car speeding down the road, Elizabeth wondered who had spotted them—maybe one of the police officers on the scene?
She lifted her head even as pain coiled around her rib cage and pulsated. “Why are you doing this?”
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
A jolt of fear shot through her, and for a moment, she wondered if the man who had date raped her in college had come back to torment her. She shook off the rising terror. This man had a big build. Craig had been short and muscular. She’d remember her attacker’s gravelly voice forever. She heard it in her dreams. This wasn’t Craig Miller, the man who had nearly destroyed her, and the reason she had left a promising career in Seattle.
She struggled for breath as the memories flooded her mind.
Hold it together.
She stared at the back of his head. With the baseball cap, she couldn’t see his face or even what color his hair was. All she had to go on was that momentary connection she’d made when he’d been a face in the crowd. She couldn’t even recall any of his features. “Where would I know you from?”
“Ha, nice try. The intrepid reporter always knows what questions to ask.”
Even his voice wasn’t distinctive. She twisted her hands, working the wires around her wrists loose.
Someone was looking for her. That gave her a fighting chance. All she had to do was stall for time. They drove for what felt like at least half an hour until he came to a stop. The back door cranked open, and he grabbed her arm just above the elbow. Squeezing hard, he yanked her out. She fell on the ground. Though the wire was now loose enough for her to slip free, she kept her hands behind her so her kidnapper wouldn’t know.
“Before this night is over, you’ll know who I am.” His voice held menace that made her shiver.
She lifted her head, noticing the outline of a house. The broken window and dilapidated porch indicated it was abandoned.
“Get up.” His words were filled with venom.
She tried to push herself to her feet, but movement made her torso hurt. She must have broken or bruised a rib when he slammed her against the car. Each breath caused a stab of pain.
He grabbed her collar and pulled her to her feet, pressing his mouth close to her ear. “Don’t even think of trying to escape.” Violence undergirded each word.
Fear was like a thousand knives stabbing her vital organs. She couldn’t get a deep breath. The same two words pounded over and over in her head.
Buy time. Buy time.
She could barely speak. “Please, I want to remember you. Have we met?”
He hesitated before pushing her. “Quit stalling.”
His voice carried a nuance of emotion she hadn’t heard before. She’d touched a nerve.
She purged her voice of the terror that gripped her. “Clearly, I was important to you. We have met.” She managed a soft coyness in her tone.
“Stop. It.” He spat the words out, but loosened his grip on her collar.
She detected weakness in his voice. She was getting to him.
She dared a look out on the dark horizon. Help should have arrived by now. Her stomach clenched. What if her kidnapper had only imagined he was being pursued? She hadn’t seen any car lights.
Maybe it was up to her to escape on her own. She squeezed her eyes shut. Think, Elizabeth. He’s stronger than you, but he’s not smarter.
“It would be nice if we could talk. If you would just tell me why I matter to you.” She chose her words carefully, struggling not to go into reporter mode. She wanted to know where this man knew her from, but the wrong sort of question might fuel his violence. Instead, she tried for an emotional connection to him.
His rough fingers rubbed against the vulnerable spot on her neck where he gripped her shirt collar.
His reaction was slow in coming as though he were processing what she had said. Did he realize she was manipulating him?
“Elizabeth Kramer, big-time reporter.” He expelled the words in a single breath as though he’d been punched in the stomach. “You’re just so smart, aren’t you?”
She kept her voice to a soft whisper, hoping that would persuade him. “Why can’t we talk? Can you tell me your first name?”
He tightened his grip on her neck. Panic shot through her like a bullet. She’d overplayed her hand.
“You should know who I am.” His words dripped with indignation.
“Really, why?” Talking to him didn’t seem to be helping, but she refused to let the fear win. She would get away no matter what it took. Her father had taught her how to defend herself.
While he was distracted by her question, she leaned against him and rammed her elbow into his stomach. He grunted. The grip on her neck loosened. She burst forward and angled to the side, wriggling her hands free from the wire. In the darkness, she could feel his hands on her, grasping, trying to get a hold.
Keep fighting.
She stumbled forward into the dark forest. He grabbed her shirt at the hem, yanked her back. She turned and smashed her flat palm against where she thought his face was. Skin smacked against skin.
She ran again, his footsteps at her heels. She could make out very little in the darkness. The roughness of the terrain told her she wasn’t on a road or trail. If she could get back to the car, maybe he’d left the keys in the ignition.
Her heart raged in her chest as she zigzagged, turning in a wide circle back to where they’d been. The sound of his footsteps dimmed. She ran faster.
The abandoned house came into view. She slowed her pace. No human noise reached her ears. The trees thinned, becoming more like bushes. She crouched lower.
She slipped out from behind a bush. Still bent over, she started toward where she remembered the car being. The landscape was nothing more than shadows.
She peered through the darkness, trying to discern objects. No car. She must have come around to the back of the house. A branch broke off to the side of her. Desperate to hide, she scrambled toward the house, slipped inside and pressed against a rough wooden wall. The drumming of her heart in her ear threatened to drown out all other sound.
She still couldn’t see the car through the window. It must be on the other side of the trees.
She crouched on the floor, working