Defending the Witness, page 14
His strong hand flexed into her hair, grabbing at the roots, and he lifted her off the ground. She yelped, staggering to her feet.
He stood, inches from her face. Even in the dim light, Ayla saw the vicious glower on his face. He panted, chest heaving, and pressed the gun against her temple. “If Sutler didn’t need you alive, I’d kill you.”
She shook with adrenaline and fear, unable to form words in response.
Still holding her hair, he turned, as though surveying the property. “You’ll experience Sutler’s fury when I tell him about your call.”
He dragged her to the side of the house where double hatch doors slanted into the grassy hillside. An outdoor cellar.
Then the man shoved Ayla to the ground and drove his knee into her chin.
The hit forced her to bite her tongue, and stars danced in front of her eyes. She curled on her side, protecting her vital organs.
“Oh, no. You’re going to pay.” He jerked her up, twisting her arm so tight Ayla feared he’d snap the bone. He tugged open one of the cellar doors.
Ayla reared back, trying to steer clear of the cavernous pit he’d revealed.
He pressed his face against hers, scratching her skin with his prickly facial hair. “What’s wrong? Afraid of the dark?”
Terror squeezed her chest like a vise.
Ayla thrust her leg into his knee, causing it to hyperextend. He yowled and she took off, running toward the front of the house. Surely there was a road. Someone would see her.
The man’s curses trailed her, but she didn’t turn to see where he was.
She felt the sting before she heard the gunshot and dropped to the ground. Her calf burned with the intensity of a thousand torches.
Then he was on her. In one swift movement, he rolled her onto her back. Ayla sucked in a breath just as his fist pummeled her face.
Pain exploded through her nose, and her eyes watered, blurring her vision.
Several more punches resulted in an iron-and-copper taste filling her mouth.
He called her vile names, screaming and cursing her, but the hits caused her ears to ring with such intensity, she barely heard him.
The man yanked her to her feet, but Ayla’s leg refused to bear her weight. “I can’t walk,” she pleaded.
A stony grin stretched across his face, and he guffawed. “Well, good. You won’t be running away this time, will you?”
She tried shifting from one foot to the other, wincing with the pain.
“You know the best part of this? You’re so stupid that you ran right to the place I wanted you.” He tsked and chortled. “I’ll give you the knee strike, though. Well done.”
Her eyes drilled into his. I’m not afraid of you. Ezra’s instructions played in her mind. Let your will to live override your fear. You can’t afford fear’s drain on your energy.
The kidnapper chuckled. “Ezra taught you well. Too bad his training didn’t save him.”
At the words, tears threatened. No, she wouldn’t grieve for Ezra right now.
“Try another stunt, and I’ll make sure it’s your last. Sutler wants you alive, but that doesn’t stop me from inflicting agony. Got me?”
She glowered at him, fury at the man’s horrid threats rising within her.
“That’s a scary face.” He guffawed. “Save it for Sutler.” He slapped her upside the head, then hoisted her over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. The irony wasn’t lost on her. The guy had been a wannabe firefighter.
Bile rose in her throat, worsening at every bounce against his shoulder. She surveyed the house as they approached, gathering as many details as possible for her escape. The old clapboard farmhouse, circa 1930s, clearly neglected based on the lack of care. A single bulb flickered from the front porch, casting eerie light. Mature trees lined the grounds on the south side like guardians, concealing them from the road.
He carried her back to the cellar, then set her down on the ground.
“So.” He squatted before her, his dark eyes burrowing into hers.
Ayla fought the urge to headbutt him.
“This is how it’s going to go. Sutler’s on his way. He’s not nearly as nice as I am, so you’d better take advantage of my kindness. Tell me where RJ Warden hid the list. If you lie to me, I’ll hurt you.” He raised his fist, emphasizing the comment.
She flinched, the memory of his attack still fresh in her mind.
“I don’t know. After everything I’ve endured, don’t you think I’d hand it over? That list means nothing to me. It’s certainly not worth dying over.” Her words came out rapid fire, but she was desperate.
He shook his head. “See, now I thought you’d be smarter than that.”
“I’m telling you the truth!”
“No, you’re not. Guess I’ll let Sutler handle you.” He made a show of tsking and wagging his finger in her face. “Too bad. He’s got harsher methods of getting people to talk.” He hoisted her up over his shoulder again.
“No, please, no!” She pounded his back with her still bound fists.
He stood over the darkened hole. “Tuck and roll.” He laughed and tossed her inside.
* * *
Chance paced the living room in the Walshes’ basement, tackled from every direction by memories of Ayla. Her beautiful smile and delightful laughter. The way one side of her full lips quirked when she questioned him. Her emerald gaze that had penetrated his heart, prompting him to reveal things about himself he’d avoided admitting. And the truth of his feelings for her, despite everything that kept her off-limits.
Ayla consumed him, and the worry of dangers she faced alone, in the hands of a dangerous and lethal criminal, threatened to steal Chance’s composure.
The team sat in the basement, now converted to their base of operations. Over the past twenty-four hours, they contemplated scenarios, made endless calls and debated their next steps. They’d also sifted through the video, pulling every possible clue from the footage, and still came up empty.
Walsh’s cameras didn’t show the place where Chance and Ayla had shared the briefest kiss, but he’d confessed the truth of his botches in detail to them. None of the HFTF group had spoken a condemning word. Riker had met his wife, Eliana, while providing her protective detail, so they had firsthand experience of how the heart had its own agenda. Subsequently, Eliana had joined HFTF as the technical expert.
He half-heartedly listened, unable to focus past his unending prayers. “Lord, help us,” he said under his breath. In his peripheral, he caught Skyler’s compassionate expression.
“The fire marshal confirms Marissa sustained injuries from electrocution, thanks to whoever provided that creative—” Walsh spat the word with venom “—little setup in the tack room.” His rigid posture and the stiff line of his jaw showed the indignation they all shared at Marissa’s attack. “Looks like the criminal cut the power, baiting her to look there, and when she touched the panel, she was electrocuted. The subsequent blast was a result of a timed bomb rigged to explode as a secondary detonation.”
“Conceivably, the bomber assumed the first event would draw in Ayla, allowing him to kidnap her, then finish Chance and Marissa with the explosion,” Skyler said.
Chance winced. Had he done his job, instead of strolling the property with Ayla, he’d have noticed the bomber. Yet, the sweet moment with her was something he’d not trade, especially since it fueled him past hopelessness. The internal battle warred on, chastening him with should’ve, could’ve, would’ve scenarios while his heart clung to the awakening Ayla brought to him.
No. He’d failed. Protecting Ayla and Marissa was his sole duty. He should’ve stopped the whole thing before Marissa got hurt. And based on Walsh’s stony stare, he concurred. Condemnation cloaked Chance with an overwhelming weight.
“Agreed,” Walsh said.
“Sutler’s convinced Ayla has the list,” Graham said.
Reengaging himself with the discussion, Chance replied, “His unwillingness to accept anything else might be what keeps Ayla alive.”
“Or the catalyst for him to hurt her,” Riker added.
Chance shot him a glare. “Thanks for that.” He groaned and resumed pacing.
“Dude.” Graham chastised Riker with a glower.
Riker winced. “Sorry.”
“The statement is accurate.” Walsh’s phone rang, and he excused himself.
“Don’t say it, Graham. I know,” Riker said. “I need to work on my delivery method.”
“Yeah, maybe toss the words around in your head before you blurt them,” Graham replied.
“Cut him some slack. We’re not used to tragedies hitting so close to our own,” Tiandra defended.
Walsh returned, cutting the discussion short. “We have a lead.” The group stilled as Walsh relayed the information. “Ayla made a 9-1-1 call.”
“What? How?” Chance blurted.
Skyler tapped away at her laptop. “Listen.” She played the recording, and the breath left Chance’s lungs at the desperation and fear in Ayla’s voice.
“Contact Chance Tavalla at the Heartland Fugitive Task Force.”
“Ma’am, slow down. Where are you?”
“Listen! He’s going to kill me! Trace this call. I don’t know where I am, but send help. Please tell Deputy US Marshal Chance Tavalla!”
Chance moved closer to the laptop listening as Ayla spoke. “She’s trying to give the dispatcher information to find her.” Brilliant. The woman was facing a killer and still she had the wherewithal to think clearly.
Ayla. Oh, God, please show us where she is.
Unable to breathe at the panic in Ayla’s tone, Chance clung to the countertop. Though he wanted to run from the room, he required every detail from the call.
“What’s your location?” the dispatcher asked.
“Help!”
The muffled cries from Ayla tore at Chance. She’d needed him and he hadn’t been there. She’d called his name, and more than anything he wanted to respond. Then finally he heard, “Sorry, wrong number,” followed by a thud, and the line went dead. Chance fisted his hands to keep from punching the closest person.
He met Tiandra’s worried expression, but to her credit, she didn’t say anything.
Chance stared at the laptop as though doing so would produce Ayla.
“That’s all.” Skyler stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off.
He didn’t deserve comfort. He averted his eyes and turned to stare out the window to the empty pasture where Walsh’s rescue horses and his kind sister should’ve occupied the beautiful landscape. Instead, Marissa lay unconscious in the hospital, fighting for her life, and Ayla was in the clutches of an EastSide7 kidnapper.
“The dispatcher tracked the cell phone for most of the short connection. Since the account belongs to Walsh, we have authorization from the cellular company to triangulate the call,” Tiandra said. “I’ve got a search area established that should put us within five miles of the tower. However, since the trace started late, and the call ended shortly thereafter, we have a delayed tracking start point.”
“What’re we waiting for?” Chance moved to the door, and Destiny joined him.
With a few more swipes and taps on her computer, Tiandra sent the detailed map to each team member.
“Wheels up, people.” Walsh slammed a hand on the counter. “Let’s go.”
In a solemn but unwavering march, the team exited the house and loaded into three of the SUVs. Chance, Destiny and Bosco rode with Tiandra, Riker and Ammo in Walsh’s SUV, and Graham and Skyler in her vehicle. They rumbled off the property in a single line and headed south, taking them into central Nebraska. Chance perched on the end of his seat, drumming his fingers on the dashboard.
He didn’t stop until Tiandra put a hand on his bouncing leg. “You’re killing me.”
Chance glanced over at her, his hand paused in midair above the dashboard.
“If you don’t stop that, I’m pulling this SUV over and tossing you into the dogs’ kennel.”
He winced. “Sorry, the drive is just taking forever.”
“But we have a place to start. You’re not in this fight alone. We all want to find Ayla.”
“I know.” But that wasn’t enough. They had to rescue her before Sutler hurt her. And regardless, the twenty-four hours since her abduction meant time wasn’t on their side or in their favor.
Common sense said they wouldn’t find her at the cell’s triangulated location, but he prayed it would produce a lead. “Can’t we drive faster?”
Tiandra glanced over at him. “Not legally,” she teased.
Chance tried to control his fidgeting in the seat, but by the time Graham announced, “We’re almost there,” over the team’s dedicated police radio channel, he was crawling out of his skin with anxiety.
He visually scanned the area where the rolling hills had flattened to an endless landscape of cow pastures and cornfields. How had Ayla’s phone pinged from here? And the thing no one else had mentioned was the intermittent cell phone reception they’d encountered. That meant Ayla’s phone would’ve done the same and could’ve thrown off the location. No. He refused to think that way. Instead, Chance focused on the map, confirming they were in the right place.
Tiandra pulled onto a side lane, then turned onto a dirt road. She parked on the shoulder, the rest of the team following suit. Each hopped out, donning Kevlar vests, though the air was warm, and they likely wouldn’t encounter the kidnapper. He was long gone. Chance shook off the thoughts. All they needed was a lead to help them find Ayla. He and Tiandra released the dogs, giving them time to shake off the drive before attaching their twenty-foot leashes and joining the rest of the team.
“The cell phone pinged around here, but that could mean a lot of things,” Walsh said. “Let the K-9s handle the search. They’re going to see things we can’t.” He addressed Chance. “Do you have Ayla’s scent article?”
Chance held out Ayla’s same nightshirt he had used before with Destiny. The soft material had absorbed her faint, floral aroma, taking him back to the last moments of holding her in his arms and the kiss that didn’t happen. Scent was the closest link to memory, and it didn’t fail to do its job. He sucked in a breath, determined to control his emotions. He knelt, allowing each dog to sniff the fabric. Destiny took the lead, but Ammo and Bosco were both cross-trained in locating lost or missing persons as well as criminal apprehension. With the trio, they had the best possible equipment needed to find Ayla.
Each handler spoke the same command: “Seek.” The K-9s again sniffed the article, then turned and headed east.
The team stretched across the ground in a straight line and moved steadily in the grid search pattern.
“We have a triangulation of the area, not an absolute spot, so be watching for any clues,” Skyler reminded the group.
Chance absorbed the mission. This was his element. Finding people, seeking fugitives. A flash of the first meeting with Ayla crossed his mind. I’m not a fugitive. You are as far as I’m concerned. He’d spoken callously to her, but truthfully, the response was the same. He sought the lost. Hadn’t the Lord come to do the same? Chance had grown up in church, and he knew the stories and hymns, but those had been for Sunday morning. Yet he realized he longed for more than that. He needed God right now, in this place. As he gazed out into the vastness of the field, finding Ayla seemed impossible. Lord, working past the impossible is Your specialty. Please do that now. Lead us to her.
Destiny’s pace increased, and Chance jogged to keep up. She paused. Then bolted forward again. In his peripheral vision he spotted Tiandra, Bosco, Riker and Ammo mimicking Destiny’s actions.
They crossed the cornfield with the sun beating on them, the heat stifling except for the light breeze. The corn was high, ready for harvest, making it hard to see one another. He relied on the sounds of them tromping through the grounds, crunching stalks and earth, the panting of the dogs and swishing through the plants to indicate each person’s location.
They exited the field, and the dogs paused, lifting their trained noses into the air. Then, in unison, the K-9s shifted slightly and hurried across the pasture toward a grove of old oak and cotton trees. Again, the team jogged to keep up with the intensity of the animals’ pace. They entered the foliage, thick with overgrowth and brambles. A dove overhead cooed, annoyed by their disturbance, then flew off the branch where it had perched into the open field.
A knowing look passed between the team.
The dogs had found a scent.
“Destiny, seek,” Chance commanded again. Tiandra and Riker ordered their dogs the same way.
Immediately she took off, her nose to the ground, Ammo and Bosco in line with her. They crossed the field to an adjacent dirt road, then continued into a pasture where golden prairie grass swayed with the breeze. The dogs moved through it, carving a path in the yellow sea, tails lifted high like beacons for their partners to follow.
Chance glanced over his shoulder. They’d walked a substantial distance. But Tiandra had said the location might exceed five miles in diameter.
At last, Destiny dropped to a sit and barked twice. Bosco and Ammo mimicked her move. The dogs’ bodies were hidden by the swaying grass, leaving only their triangular ears peeking above. Chance bolted forward, outrunning Riker and Tiandra. He spotted the black cell phone, shattered, next to Destiny’s right paw. The area showed signs of disturbance where the kidnapper probably drove.
“Don’t touch it,” Walsh hollered.
Chance stood still, battling the urge to reach down and grab the device.
Skyler hurried behind, already donning a latex glove from her cargo pants. She lifted the phone, collecting the pieces and placing them in a clear plastic bag, and passed it to Walsh.
Chance’s stomach plummeted beneath his boots. He didn’t need the confirmation. She’d been here.
