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Peter’s attitude, once again, shifted on a dime, and he suddenly looked pleased with himself. “Now you lay there like a good little doll while I go out and buy some supplies. I have a feeling we’ll be here for a while, so I want to make us as comfortable as possible for the duration.” His face morphed back into something twisted. “How long you last, depends entirely on you.”
Pixie wanted to scream. The man was officially loony-tunes.
With one final, disgusting caress down the front of the dress she now hated, Peter walked to the door. Once he stepped outside and closed it behind him, she heard him turn several locks.
Finally, Pixie had time to think. She let out a long, slow breath as questions flooded her head.
How long had she been knocked out? Would Doug and his team be looking for her by now? Had Peter screwed up and left clues at the wedding site that would lead Doug to this remote cabin?
Pixie slowly shook her head as the reality of her situation settled in.
She really couldn’t count on help coming.
She’d have to figure a way out of this on her own.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Doug had seen and gone through a lot of horrifying things in his life, but this, with Pixie, was by far the worst he’d ever experienced. He’d make a deal with the devil; suffer the fates of his childhood repeatedly if it meant Pixie would be safe.
“We’ll find her,” Mike told Doug, with conviction in his voice. The entire team, including Talia who had swiftly shed her wedding finery, and Quint their esteemed guest, had convened at the bus, angry as hornets and armed to the teeth. They were gathered around Harvé and his dog Muddy who would begin tracking Pixie, but Doug feared that the dog’s nose to the ground wouldn’t be enough.
Chances were high that Pixie had been dragged off into the woods only to be thrown into a car. Which meant they’d lose the trail almost as soon as they picked it up.
Mason turned to Doug. “You named three possible suspects. Do you have addresses?” The chief’s mind had obviously come to the same conclusion as his.
Doug didn’t have that information, but for two of the perps, he could easily find out. “Skowhegan PD will have records on Harlan Depree because they’ve been to his house. And they should damned well know Zablov’s whereabouts because theasshole attacked Pixie at school this week. But the other guy, Peter, the remedial reading teacher at her school? I don’t even know his last name.”
Mason got down to business and barked at Mike who was standing at the ready. “Get on the horn and call SPD. We’ll start with what they can give us for locations. Talia, call anyone you can who might know Peter’s last name, then we’ll have Opal and Nolan do their thing to find him on the internet.”
Opal and Nolan were the team’s tech experts and would have an address once they could start working their computer magic.
“Pixie’s best friend Julie might know,” Talia bit out. Ian had come down with a case of food poisoning, so they couple hadn’t been able to make the wedding.
Stress was coming off the LT in waves equal to Doug’s. The difference being, her husband Fleet was within eyeshot of her, and her gaze continually sought out his for comfort. There was no love of Doug’s life who could ease his fear. If Pixie were here, his eyes would have sought out hers, and…Yes. It was time to admit it to himself. He loved Pixie. With all his heart. But she was in danger, and if he didn’t get a chance to tell her of his feelings, he just knew he’d go back down a very dark path.
It wasn’t an option.
The people who cared for him wouldn’t even begin to fill the emptiness that would swallow him whole.
Doug relatives would stand by him, of course. They’d loved him for years. But for comfort? He wouldn’t distract them now. At this moment, his aunt was busy consoling Pixie’s parents inside, while his uncle stood with the SWAT team, assuring Mason he’d mobilize as many OPD officers as were necessary, once they had a direction in which to head.
“Make the call,” Mason instructed Talia, snapping Doug out of his horrific thoughts.
“Chief?” Mike spoke up, the phone still to his ear. “I’ve got a Detective Roper on the line at SPD. He says he knows Doug and is familiar with Pixie’s case.”
Doug nodded, suddenly all business. “I met him when he came out to investigate the tire tracks in back of Pixie’s house, and again at the school after Zablov’s attack.”
Mike waited for a second. “He has two addresses for us. One for Depree, and one for Zablov.” He rattled them off. “Roper is sending patrols out, now.”
“Wait. Two addresses?” Doug snarled. “Isn’t Zablov behind bars?” He’d thought the man would have been detained until his initial hearing, since he’d proven dangerous.
Mike conferred with the detective. “The asshole posted bail, even though it was set high.” He named a figure.
Mason whistled. “Kyle, call for a warrant,” he ordered. “If Zablov was able to come up with that kind of scratch, he’s got something illegal going on at his house. I’m thinking drugs. And Mike, tell Roper I’m sending two squads his way. One to Harlan’s and one to Zablov’s.”
Mike acknowledged the command with a dip of his chin, and rattled off the two addresses to Mason before conferring with the detective on the phone again.
Kyle had already pulled out his device, and was clearly scrolling for the local judge’s number.
