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She dragged her thoughts back to the man in front of her. “What about your family? Has anyone heard from Michelle? A sister, your mom, her best friend?”
“She didn’t get along with my family, and she’s always been a loner. We had some friend couples, but she didn’t go out to coffee or lunch with anyone special that I know of.”
His gaze cut away, and she immediately knew he was lying. Why would he want her to think Michelle had no friends? Would a friend contradict his version of events? Maybe Michelle’s mother would know.
She noticed a flicker of movement and saw a woman at an upstairs window. The woman disappeared before Annie could make eye contact.
She glanced at Mason to see if he had any other questions,and he gave a slight shake of his head. She took a step back. “Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else, you have my number.”
It was only after his car vanished through the gate that she realized he hadn’t asked if they’d found any evidence that Michelle might be hurt. Did he simply not care, or did he know more than he let on?
***
Imprisoned for thirty-six hours.
The sunshine slanted through the dirty cabin windows, and Michelle sat up with a slightly clearer head. She’d awakened on Wednesday night, and it was now Friday morning. How long would it be before she lost track of time? The pain had kept her tied to the bed most of yesterday, but she had to move past it somehow. The packages of jerky the man had left pushed away her hunger pangs for a while, and she tried to conserve them since she didn’t know how long they would need to last.
The man hadn’t returned, and she had three jerky sticks left along with two bottles of water. What happened if he didn’t come back? What if he decided to let her die out here by herself?
And why had he even taken her? He mentioned her belongings, but she had nothing of real value.
She’d prayed for deliverance, but sometimes God expected action too. She couldn’t lie here on this cot and expect help to come to her. The past year of hiding from her husband had taught her that she was stronger than she knew and that she had the courage to take the next unknown step.
She had to figure out a way to make a crutch. This area wastoo vast and wild to be able to crawl out, especially when she had no idea where the man had taken her. Without a compass or anything to guide her, she could wander in the wrong direction too. She’d peered out the window a couple of times yesterday, but the thick forest prevented her from seeing any kind of landmark that might indicate her location. She’d have only the sun to guide her, and it wouldn’t tell her which way to go to find civilization.
But she couldn’t lie here and wait to discover her fate.
There was nothing inside the cabin to use as a crutch. If she could get out into the forest, maybe she could find a tree branch that would work. And a clearing where she could find a landmark.
She’d tried the door countless times without success. And without being able to stand, she couldn’t crawl out the window. This morning she felt stronger, though. Maybe she had the upper body strength to pull herself up the wall and through the window.
Gritting her teeth from the pain in her leg, she slid down to the floor and crawled to the window a few feet away from her cot. She managed to get onto her good knee and reached for the windowsill above her head. Her fingers just grazed it, and she grabbed hold to pull herself up. For a moment she thought it might work, but the wood gave way under her fingertips, and the rotted windowsill came away in her hands. She fell back and wrenched her broken leg as her knee twisted.
The pain pulsed up her leg to her knee, and she groaned as she bit back a scream. She tasted blood and realized she’d bitten her tongue. She lay on the floor inhaling the stench of small rodents and dirt until the agony ebbed. Once she could think past the pain, she sat up and looked around.
Now what? Her legs stretched out toward the cot, and sheeyed it. What if she could move it under the window? Sitting on it on her knee might let her crawl through the window. She moved around until she was sitting with her feet under the head of the bed. She gripped the cold metal with both hands and drew it toward her. The cot legs scraped across the pine floor. She managed to move it toward her by six inches.
This might actually work. She scooted toward the window on her behind and tried again. A few inches at a time, she drew the cot with her toward the window until the length of it was centered under the window. It was still a few feet from the wall, so she maneuvered herself along the wall and pulled it closer to the window. She had to stop a foot out from the wall so she had room to get out from behind the cot.
She scooted out until she was at the head of the bed again, but her strength was gone, and she had to lie on the floor until her panting eased and she didn’t feel so shaky and spent.
The sunbeams were at a different angle, and she thought it must be close to noon by now. The man had come in the night last time, and she suspected he’d continue that if he even came again. He wouldn’t want her to see his face. So she had time to rest and regain her strength. She crawled to her provisions and consumed half a bottle of water and one stick of jerky.
Her progress lifted her spirits, and for the first time, she thought she might get out of here. She returned to the side of the cot and heaved herself back onto it. Her lids were heavy, so she closed them for a few minutes to rest. Drifting off to sleep wasn’t an option, though, not when time was ticking away. Her eyes popped back open, and she sat up.
She got on her good knee again and winced at the tweak of pain. It was the wrong angle for her leg, too, and the painescalated quickly, but the height now was perfect for her to be able to struggle with raising the window. Years of dirt and grime made it sticky, and she was sweating with exertion and pain by the time she raised it a few inches.
She got her fingertips under the edge of the window and managed to force it open. She put her arms all the way through to the outside of the cabin and pulled her body up onto the ledge. She teetered on it with her head and shoulders out into the wind and her legs still in the cabin. If she fell through onto the ground, she’d never be able to get back inside if she failed to find help.
If she went out there, she had to be prepared to stay there, and the fall might do more damage. Tears burned her eyes, but she wiggled back inside and onto the cot.
She’d have to prepare to be on her own first. That included figuring out a way to take what little food and water she had. Her escape wasn’t something she could do on a whim.
Nine
Kylie sat on the Dunstans’ pier behind the cabin with her legs dangling above the blue waters of Lake Superior. She had been quiet and standoffish since Annie dropped her off on her way to Mason’s office this morning, and Jon wasn’t sure how to bring a smile to those blue eyes, so like Annie’s.
His dad approached with two fishing poles, and his gaze slipped past Jon to Kylie out on the pier. “I thought a little fishing might cheer up her gloomies. Fishing always fixed yours.”
