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She pounded on the window and screamed her daughter’s name several times before leaning her forehead against the cool glass and gulping back tears. “I don’t think she’s in there, Jon. You can put me down.”
He carefully carried her to the porch, then bent over to deposit her on the floorboards. Once she was off his shoulders, he sat on the top step and exhaled.
“You okay?”
“Just give me a second. I’m okay.”
While he rested, she texted Mason about what they’d found and asked him to check on who owned this property.
Tires popped on the gravel, and Annie looked around to see Bree’s Jeep pull into the drive. Her friend hopped out of the driver’s door and went around to the back to let out Samson. Naomi climbed out of the passenger side and retrieved Charley. The team joined them at the porch in minutes.
Naomi touched Annie’s arm. “I know what you’re going through, Annie. Timmy and Emily were missing when Em was eight. It’s terrifying.”
Naomi’s gentle words were a balm, but they also brought tears to Annie’s eyes. “We have to find her.”
“We will,” Naomi said. “Do you have a scent article?”
“Yes, in the car. I’ve got a pair of shorts.” Annie ran to retrieve the clothing.
Each of the women had their dogs get the scent, and they were all heading for the woods to their right in the next minute. Annie and Jon ran after them. As they followed Kylie’s trail, the dogs led them to the left. Annie was familiar with this section of forest, and she began to hear the sound she’d been dreading.
“We’re near Hungarian Falls,” she said. “It can be dangerous for a child to try to navigate the cliffs and rocks.” She eyed the setting sun. “Especially in the dark.”
Jon’s grip tightened on her fingers. “Then we’d better find her fast.”
Thirty-Five
Taylor had yanked at the door so much that her palms throbbed. The other woman, Michelle, had told her it was no use, but she had to find out for herself.
The crescent moon didn’t offer much illumination in the dark cabin, and they had no flashlight. Taylor didn’t have her phone either. Lissa had confiscated it.
Michelle reached for a bottle of water. “Here. Rest and let’s discuss next steps.”
Taylor sank onto the hard wood floor and took the bottle. “Thanks. How long have you been here?” She put the bottle aside and hugged her knees to her chest, which sometimes helped when she was having an attack of claustrophobia.
“Eight days. I think.”
“What happened to your leg?”
“ATV accident. What’s your name?”
Taylor hesitated. Being Taylor hadn’t brought her anything but heartache. She’d thought she could choose who to be, but she’d chosen poorly. “Sarah. Sarah Vitanen.”
The name felt foreign on her lips, and she focused on her identity to stem the rising tide of hysteria. Could she be a different person? After seeing Kylie run off into the woods andrealizing what she’d gotten the little girl into, Sarah had hated herself. Maybe it was too late to change, but she had to try.
Had anyone found Kylie? If she thought God would hear someone like her, she’d try praying.
“Why are you locked up in here instead of in the hospital getting that leg treated?” Sarah asked.
When Sarah had been brought in during the late afternoon, she’d taken a good look at her fellow captive. Michelle appeared bedraggled and weak. Her brown hair had hung in greasy strings around her face, and circles created shadows under her brown eyes. There were no shower facilities in the cabin, and the woman probably longed for a nice, hot shower. How long was Sarah going to be trapped here too? She’d be looking as rough as Michelle in three days.
Michelle shuffled in the dark, and Sarah realized she had tuned out the first part of Michelle’s story. “After a year, I came out of hiding from my husband and was ready to start life again. I came out to the forest to work on a magazine piece about mountain lions, and I found another woman running from her ex. I tried to rescue her, but I had an ATV accident and Grace was killed. Some guy picked me up and brought me here. He brings me supplies, but he won’t let me leave. He wants me to lead him to my stuff. Supposedly there’s something there he wants, but I don’t know what it is.”
“What did you take? From where?”
“I’m not sure. I worked at the shelter where I lived for a year, and I do have a copy of some of their records, but that’s hardly explosive enough to warrant kidnapping. I keep trying to think of what I took from our house when I ran away, but it was only my personal items—jewelry, makeup, clothing. The laptop. Myex used it some, too, so I wondered if there was sensitive information on it.”
“Where is all that now?”
