AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ellie thanked him and hung up, hope warring with panic. Night was setting in and Christmas Eve was upon them. Endless farmland and winding mountain roads led deeper into the hills that stretched in all directions. Clapboard houses and rustic cabins were spread out in darkness, yet most were decorated with twinkling lights, Christmas blow ups, and a manger scene glowed on the lawn of a church.
They passed a salvage store, stone yard, and garage and outbuildings erected for a weekly flea market. Yard art crafted from metal in the shape of bears, bobcats, and birds of prey sat in front of a country store boasting boiled peanuts and local honey for sale.
A few scattered snowflakes had started to fall as they passed the sign for Big Daddy’s Barbecue. Red and green lights flashed along the awning of the store and a neon sign advertised a Christmas Eve special of pulled pork, black eyed peas and collards.
Ellie remembered coming here with her father for a NASCAR event, and every year hikers began their trek on the AT from the input trail here.
But the serene beauty was lost as she feared the isolated countryside had become a haven for a child kidnapper. All Ellie could think about was Lara and Priscilla and how excruciating each day was for them. The holiday had to accentuate their anguish.
She drove through town, then followed the GPS along a country road that led towards a Christmas tree farm that had been advertised in the town.ENJOY AN OLD FASHIONED FAMILY HOLIDAY – Cut Down Your Own Tree! Hot chocolate, homemade decorations and sleigh rides!
But judging from the fact that there were no lights glowing from the Spruce Tree Farms, they’d obviously already closed for business. The hair on her arms rose. Off the road, with no other houses or businesses nearby, the land looked eerie and lonely.
She veered down the drive to the farm to check it out, snowflakes swirling in a blinding haze and dotting her windshield. A brisk wind battered the spruce and fir trees still remaining. One section held saplings not yet mature enough for cutting while a larger section looked as if it had been picked over, only sad trees that needed loving left. Ellie used to beg to take one of them home and nurture it, but Vera insisted on having the perfect ones, just like she’d wanted Ellie to be perfect.
There were no cars or lights, and the sleigh and outbuilding were void of decorations.
Seeing no one was there, she wove to the right and followed the narrow ribbon of road up an incline and over a bend where an older farmhouse was perched on the hill.
The white paint had faded on the wood, black shutters slapped in the gusty breeze, and a wide front porch wrapped around the side of the house. Flowerbeds that probably held an array of colors in the fall and spring were now dusted in white, and icicles dangled from the windowsills.
“Looks like lights are on inside,” Derrick said. “One downstairs and another in an upstairs room.”
The tiny window at the top suggested an attic room or bedroom. Were the girls being held captive here?
She cut the car lights, eased off the gas and veered onto the shoulder to keep from being seen. Climbing out, she and Derrick crept along the bush-lined drive until they neared the house. The wind whined through the bare branches of the pines and snowflakes spattered her coat and cheeks as they approached.
Ellie pointed to the silver Lexus beneath the carport. “I don’t see the van.”
“They may not be here,” Derrick mouthed.
But there were lights on in the house, so they couldn’t assume anything. Pulling their service weapons, they darted along the weeds and bushes until they reached the front porch.
Slowly inching up the steps, Ellie paused every other second to listen for voices or signs someone was inside.
A quick peek and she didn’t see anyone. A deadly quiet echoed around her. Derrick motioned that he was going around back, and she indicated that she understood. Slowly, she turned the doorknob and tiptoed inside the house.
The wood floor creaked, the furnace whirring in the silence. The scent of cinnamon hung heavy in the air along with the smell of pine and spruce.
A Christmas tree glittered with lights and ornaments and the kitchen table held signs of Christmas crafts left unfinished. Three angel costumes hung across the doorway, similar to the ones that had been worn in the Angel Pageant. She paused to listen, then went to the back door and waved Derrick inside.
He surveyed the scene, then they began to search the first floor. Somewhere down the hall they heard a noise, and she led the way and found a bathroom then a locked door. Derrick jiggled the doorknob, and she braced her gun as he shouted, “FBI! Anyone here?”
Pushing open the door, Ellie illuminated the space with her flashlight and found an empty bed. Derrick checked the bathroom and she rushed to the closet. It was dark inside and the door was locked, but as she pressed her ear to the door, she thought she heard a moan. Her heart tripped in her chest. Were the girls locked inside?
Shaking with anger at the thought, she slammed her shoulder against the door, but it didn’t budge. “Who’s there?” she shouted.
Silence mushroomed around her, thick and stagnant. Maybe she’d imagined the moan.
Fueled by the need to save the girls, she raised her foot and kicked the door in. Wood splintered and cracked and it crashed in.
Quickly she shined her light across the interior. The girls weren’t inside, but a man lay on the floor half-conscious. She moved forward, shining the beam over his body. Gray slacks and white shirt, both bloody. Teeth gritted, she stooped and focused on his face. Broad jaw, short brown hair, a gash on his forehead.
Silas Gooding. She recognized him from the online article about the accident.
She pressed two fingers to his neck to feel for a pulse and held her own breath as she listened for the sound of his.
One Hundred Thirty-Five
