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Damien Nicholson. The name sounded familiar and she searched her memory banks for some kind of recognition. Then it came to her. He was one of the cops who’d worked the very first child abduction case, back in Port Pirie. Had been on the frontline of the investigation. One of the cops she’d accused of misconduct during the case. Of making mistakes and mishandling evidence.
Was that because he’d been involved the whole time?
The magnitude of this man’s deceit was only now beginning to dawn on her. He was a police officer. A cop was supposed to protect the innocent. But he’d used his position of power for evil. Used it to cover up his own tracks. And Sierra had come too close to the truth. That’s why he’d started the hate mail, to try and lead her away from the evidence.
Sierra felt sick, as if she was going to vomit. She wretched. She cast a horrified glance at Reed, and he stared back at her, wide-eyed. He began to struggle against the ropes Evan had tied so cruelly around his hands and feet, and Sierra wanted to go to him. To help him. So they could escape this madman.
Her memory kicked up the image of her on the pathway with Evan, about to get in his car when he’d offered her a lift home. Holy shit. What if Reed hadn’t come along then? What if she had gotten into his car? Had he planned to abduct her that day, too? To get rid of her once and for all?
And Evan had helped with the search for Jessica. But it’d all been a ruse, a ploy to make him seem innocent. One of the many concerned citizens who only wanted to find the little girl, bring her back to her mother, safe and sound. How could he possibly live with himself? He was pure evil.
“You know you shouldn’t keep so much cash in your house, Sierra,” Even berated in that horrible teacher’s voice she was coming to hate.
“What?” Then it dawned on her what he meant. “It was you?” The extent of this man’s reach was beginning to frighten her.
“Yes, I broke into your house. I took the money to make it look like a normal old burglary. But I got what I really went for. Your computer. I needed to see if you were writing more articles. You should really choose a better password, though. Jon Snow was just too easy.” Evan gave a high-pitched giggle, and Sierra was struck by the edge of hysteria in it. Was he having a breakdown? Or was he permanently crazy and just very good at hiding it?
“The good thing about owning the post office? You get to take a peek at everyone’s lives, through their letters. And deliveries. It’s really interesting what you can find out about a person by opening their mail.” He’d been tampering with her mail? Was he opening other people’s mail as well? “I know that bitch back in Adelaide sent you a box of files on those missing kids. She wanted you to do another exposé, didn’t she? Fucking bitch, why is she always interfering?” It was now starting to make a horrible kind of sense.
“The two girls who were abducted in Adelaide. That was you, too?”
He gave another evil chuckle, but ignored her question. “Stealing your laptop was a piece of cake. And there wasn’t too much incriminating on there, I have to say.” Evan’s eyes glazed over and he glanced back at the little girl. “But then things happened. Things that were out of my control. Jessica came into my life. And I knew I had to have her. It wasn’t planned, but there she was, just waiting to be rescued.”
Sierra knew. Knew what he meant. He’d found Jessica standing by the side of the road, looking for her beloved kangaroos. This abduction had been a spur-of-the-moment thing. Like an addict, he’d seen the little girl all alone, and couldn’t resist temptation.
“I needed time to let the heat die down. Before I could move her. And I needed you not to poke your interfering nose in where it wasn’t wanted. Killing your chickens was more satisfying than I could’ve imagined. I would’ve loved to see the look on your face when you discovered them.” A grin split his face, like a fissure opening up across his repulsive features. “Pity my little plan to disable your car didn’t work so well.”
Before she knew what she was doing, Sierra was up on her knees, bound hands raised in front of her face. She was going to kill him.
“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic, luv,” Evan said in his high, nasal voice. “And you, stop trying to be the hero.” He slowly moved the gun around so it was pointing at Reed. Reed stopped endeavoring to free himself, but glared at Evan, pure hatred in his eyes. Sierra froze, as well.
“Stop it.” A high-pitched wail started from the dark corner. “Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.” Jessica was sitting on the bed, rocking back and forth with her hands over her ears. The poor girl was terrified. Her wail got louder and louder, so high it felt like needles going through Sierra’s brain. Sierra half-rose up on her haunches. She almost forgot about Evan and his gun in her need to go to the girl. That mothering instinct to soothe.
But Evan beat her to it. He was on his feet and bending over the small child, patting her on the shoulder like she was some kind of frightened pet. It was obvious he didn’t have a clue what to do. And it was also obvious this girl was special to him. In his sick, twisted mind, he’d become attached to her, and she’d become his property. He’d kept her alive for this long, after all.
It came to her in a flash. He wasn’t going to kill the girl. He wanted to keep her. Earlier, he’d said, we need to get off this island. She hadn’t twigged at the time, but now she thought she knew what he meant. He was going to try and smuggle Jessica off the island. Take her to the mainland, and then disappear. Perhaps wait till the investigation had died down. There were many ways to get off the island unseen. He could charter a small boat. Or he might even own one, himself. But now that Sierra and Reed had interfered, he would have to change his plan. Move more quickly.
Evan was still hunched over the girl, and in that split second, Sierra made her decision.
She cast one more, despairing look toward Reed, praying he’d understand what she was about to do. Hoped that he didn’t just think she was saving herself. Because that’s not what she was doing. She glanced at the door, which stood wide open, and Evan with his back to it.
She sprang up and in two long strides was out the door and down the short corridor to the back door. The door rattled on its hinges as she barged her shoulder into it, then took off like a startled gazelle toward the nearest trees, one hundred meters away. Running was harder with her hands tied in front, but she still made a good pace.
Her panting breath and pounding feet were the only sounds to break the silence. Until there was a loud crack, and she heard a buzzing noise over her left shoulder. A bullet. She increased her speed. Fifty meters. She zigged, then zagged, not daring to look back. Willing her sore knee not to buckle underneath her. Another bullet hummed past, closer this time. Twenty meters. She daren’t look back to see if he was coming after her. Ten meters.
She dived into the long grass beside a large tree like she was a world-class baseball player diving for first base. Damp clods of earth crumbled under her hands and she lay panting for a moment. Was he chasing her?
“Come back, or I’ll shoot the little girl.” Evan’s words stabbed her to the core, but she could hear the hysterical note in his voice. And she knew. Knew he wouldn’t shoot the girl. Knew he’d come after her. He couldn’t afford to let her get away. Couldn’t take the chance she’d betray him to the police. But also, his ego wouldn’t allow it. He had to come after her. It was the only way her plan was going to work. Biting down with her teeth, she worked at the knot around her wrists. It was too tight and she grunted with frustration. She got up onto her hands and knees and began an unwieldy crawl though the undergrowth, needing to get farther away.
“Come back, or I’ll shoot lover-boy cop.” Evan’s words drifted to her over the growing distance. She faltered, mid-crawl. Reed. She couldn’t let Reed die. She turned around.
No, she had to keep going. Forcing her hands and feet to move again. If she kept going, Evan would follow, she had to believe that. If she went back now, they were both as good as dead. It was the only way.
“You stupid fucking bitch, get back here.” Evan had lost all pretense of playing the refined guy. “You’re going to ruin everything.”
Yep, that’s exactly what she hoped to do.
Stopping for a second time, she worked at the rope knot again. This time she felt it loosen. He hadn’t bound her as tightly as Reed. He needed her to drive the cars, to put them out of sight, while he held a gun to her head. Then, when she’d done the deed and locked the cars away, he’d really only tied her hands as a precaution. Probably he’d meant to bind her up properly once they reached the cottage.
