Captured Again (18 page)

“H
ere’s another one!” Emma shouted excitedly, holding it up in the dark.

Dusty hopped back over the rail and pointed the flashlight at Emma’s hand. Another penny... flat and smooth. He felt lit up inside. It made him happy to see Emma so excited about such a simple trick. He’d wondered if she’d think it was lame when he came up with it, but he was desperate to get her alone... to feel his lips on hers again.

“That’s it, then. We found every one of them,” Dusty answered proudly. “I can’t believe you’ve never heard of smashing pennies before, Emma.”

“Seriously, Dusty, I haven’t,” Emma said. “I’ll admit it was a neat trick. I can’t wait to show these to Rickey! He’ll think this is too cool,” she said as she continued to run the pennies between her fingers, feeling the smooth texture, the sharp edges and the absence of all that made metal into money.

Dusty’s heart seemed to stop mid-beat. That wasn’t what he had wanted to hear. He didn’t want Emma showing or telling that dweeb anything they’d done together. He blew out a frustrated breath and shook it off.
So what, they’re friends. They do work together. Not a big deal, Dust. Let it go,
he thought to himself.
It’s not like that white shirt is smart enough to figure out the train schedule and a secluded place to do this. He’d probably be afraid, anyway.

Dusty shined the light down onto his watch. “Emma, didn’t you say you only had two hours? We’re closing in on two hours in”—he looked up at Emma—“just a few minutes.”

Emma looked alarmed. “Yes! I need to get back to my car, Dusty.”

“What’s the hurry? You gonna to turn into a pumpkin or something?”

Emma didn’t answer. She’d already managed to shimmy down the embankment without his help or the flashlight and in a flash was heading down the trail toward the truck. Wherever she needed to be, it must be important, and she wasn’t sharing.
Maybe she’s seeing Rick tonight?

He tried to put that paranoid thought out of his head as he hurried after her. They’d had a moment up there, alongside the train trestle, and he didn’t want anything to run it over.

CHAPTER 21

GABBY
slowly pulled down her long driveway, unable to shake the feeling someone was watching her. She looked all around, cringing at the loud crunch of the gravel under the tires. With her wooded lot and the house sitting so far off the road, anyone could be hiding in the trees alongside her yard or behind her house, especially now, in the dark. She hit the garage door button but stopped the truck just before pulling in, letting her lights poke the shadows for anything out of place before trapping herself inside with the door shut behind her. She didn’t see anything. She finished pulling Jake’s truck all the way in and remained inside with the doors locked until the garage door was all the way down.

She turned off the truck and looked around again, using the dim light over the door opener. She would need to hurry if she was going to get into the house before it went off, leaving her in the dark. She wished she’d thought to keep a flashlight in her purse. She could always hit the garage door button again to reset the delayed light, but that would open the door and she didn’t want to do that.
What if someone saw me pull in and they’re just outside the garage? They could quickly roll under the door before I could hit the button again to stop and reverse the door.
Gabby shuddered as chills went down her spine; she was scaring herself.

Hesitant to get out of the car, she tried to talk sense into herself. “There’s no one here, Gabby. It’s like Olivia said... You’re seeing things where there’s nothing,” she said out loud to herself, only causing her to jump at the sound of her own voice flooding the quiet shelter of the truck.

Her little pep talk did nothing to calm her nerves, so she reached into her purse and pulled out the gun she’d taken from Jake’s closet. The gun scared her nearly as bad as the thought of someone stalking her. It didn’t even have a safety switch. Jake had explained to her repeatedly that this gun, a Glock, had a built-in trigger safety—just to be sure she kept her finger off the trigger unless she meant to use it. But what if she accidently touched it just carrying it into the house? Her nerves were getting the best of her, and her mind was flashing every possible worst scenario. She needed to get out and get moving before she ended up having to sleep in the truck, frozen in fear.

Gabby pulled the long strap of her purse over her head, like a messenger bag, to keep her hands free for the keys and the gun. She hit the garage door button, giving it just enough time to trip the light, and then quickly poked it one more time, shutting the door again. She pursed her lips together and quietly blew out the breath she’d been holding. She opened the door and hopped out of Jake’s truck, first looking behind it to be sure no one squeezed in through the small opening she’d allowed by reopening the door. She squatted to see all the way to the other side of the garage under the truck, seeing no one, and then tried to shut the truck door as quietly as she could. She nearly tiptoed to the exterior door leading to her laundry room, which opened into her kitchen, and breathed a sigh of relief. Realizing she was being silly, she tried again to shake it off. No one could get into her garage now without the button or her code and no one knew that except her and Jake. She was safe in here.

She smiled at her stupidity.

But then another thought struck her as she looked down at Jake’s key ring. What happened to
her
garage door button, the one from her wrecked car? Could someone have thought to get it? And what happened to
her
house keys? No one had mentioned them, and she hadn’t thought to ask. Her key ring had not only her car key, but keys to both the front door and the door in the garage. If they’d been given to her family, they would’ve returned them to her already...

The hairs stood up on Gabby’s neck. Someone could have been going in and out of her house all this time. Someone could be in her house, right now, waiting for her.

The garage seemed too quiet, unnaturally quiet. She couldn’t hear anything except the ticking of Jake’s truck cooling down. It was eerie. Even the sound of the crickets and cicada’s she could normally hear from inside her bedroom were quiet tonight.
Why can’t I hear them from in here, in the garage? Does that mean something is out there? Something they aren’t comfortable with?
Gabby started shaking. She wasn’t sure whether she was safer in the house or in the garage. If someone were here, where would he be?

She should call Nick or Emma or Olivia, she thought. But everybody had jobs to go to. They were all asleep. She couldn’t keep putting her burdens on her family. She had to deal with this on her own—that’s why she’d gotten Jake’s gun out, after all.
I can do this,
she said in her head, trying to convince herself.

Holding the gun in her right hand, Gabby sorted through the ring for the correct key to the house, using only her left hand. In her nervousness and awkwardness, she fumbled Jake’s keys and they clattered loudly to the concrete floor, the noise startling a little scream from her. Gabby froze, looking up at the door, half expecting someone to jerk it open and pull her in. Nothing happened. Carefully, she picked up the keys again, trying to make as little noise as possible.
Although, if someone’s here, they can probably hear my heart thumping in my chest.

As she found the correct key and quietly put it into the lock, her heart started beating even more wildly.
What if someone’s in there? Can I really shoot someone?
She turned the key, unlocking the door, then stood there breathing heavily but silently, trying to gather the last bit of her courage to open the door before the garage light went out, leaving her in the dark again.

Too late—it clicked off. Gabby couldn’t see the gun or the door in front of her. But she knew they were both right there; she hadn’t moved. Her hand was on the gun, and the door was right in front of her—unlocked. All she had to do was open it, but she felt paralyzed with fear, certain now that maybe she hadn’t looked everywhere. Maybe someone was in the garage with her, making their way quietly to her now...

Stop it! You’re scaring yourself. You can’t stand here all night, Gabby. At the count of three,
she told herself in her head.
One... Two... Three!
Gabby grabbed the doorknob with her left hand, shoving it hard, and then grasped the gun in her right hand, pointing it into the dark house, staring blindly into the shadows while holding her breath, waiting for someone to jump out at her.

Icy cold trails of sweat dripped down her sides, soaking her bra under her arms. Her hands were shaking and clammy from holding the heavy gun. She wasn’t used to it, and she was scared of it, but not as scared as she’d be without it. She stepped into the laundry room and flicked on the light. There was no one there. She turned around and turned on the garage light—nothing there but Jake’s truck. She turned back and walked the few steps toward the kitchen, reaching with her left hand to flick on the kitchen light and pulling it back quickly to join her right hand in steadying the gun. The kitchen was empty. Gabby continued to hold the gun, still standing in the laundry room, looking through the kitchen to the darkness beyond. She tried to take the first step into the kitchen. She’d have to go through the entire house and turn on lights holding the gun, but her feet wouldn’t respond.

She heard a noise, then jerked around to see if it came from the garage. There was nothing there. She spun back around, pointing the gun into the kitchen, waiting to see if someone was coming for her from inside the house. Nothing moved. She couldn’t tell which way the noise came from. She slammed the door leading into the kitchen, then closed and locked the door going into the garage. Her legs gave out and she slid down with her back against the garage door, leaving her knees up to help her balance the gun. She kept it pointed at the closed door leading into the house, trying to control her shaking hands. She stared and waited, with her finger just brushing the trigger guard, now noticing the sound of the refrigerator, humming too loudly, forcing her to strain her ears to hear what might be coming.

There wasn’t a lock on the interior door to the kitchen. She had to think of a way to keep whoever made that noise away from her. Gabby knew her fear was getting the best of her, probably pushing her into a state of panic, but she didn’t think it was paranoia. She had seen the dragonfly with her own eyes; it was real. What if it was René? What if he’d heard she was all alone now and had come back for her?

Gabby jumped up, opening the cabinets over the washer and dryer, looking for a way to secure the interior door.
Soap, fabric softener, clothes pins... dammit! Nothing! Nothing that can help!
She carefully placed the gun and her bag on the floor in the farthest corner and opened the dryer door. Putting both her hands in it and grabbing onto it, she pulled it away from the wall as far as she could.

It was almost far enough to block the door.

She climbed up over it, getting behind it in the space she had made, and jerked the plug and a strange crinkly hose out of the wall and pushed the dryer some more. Then she worked on the washing machine, one little push at a time, struggling to push it from behind until it blocked the door to the garage.
There, both doors blocked,
Gabby thought.
No one can get to me now.

She crawled back over the washer and dryer into the space left, which barely was enough room for her. Exhausted from the fear and adrenaline, and physically overexerted, she lay down, panting, with her purse bunched up under her head and her knees pointing at the ceiling.

Gabby looked up and around. She was surround by walls of metal and paint, all closed in. As her body calmed down, her mind realized... René was able to get her trapped in that box after all.

CHAPTER 22

“Emma,
where are you?” Dusty asked again. “Slow down and speak calmly to me,” Dusty instructed her over the screech of his radio.

“I’m at Gabby’s house. She’s locked in the house, inside her laundry room, all closed up and having a panic attack!” Emma shouted. “She won’t open either door and keeps telling me to just leave. She’s afraid someone is in the house and doesn’t want me to go in.”

“Emma, I’m on duty. Has she called 9-1-1?”

“No, Dusty. She’s afraid if she’s wrong, they’ll think she’s crazy and send her back into the hospital. She says she’ll just wait him out,” Emma explained. “Can’t you come out here and look around... secure the house and the perimeter, and...
I don’t know
—that thing the cops do on TV?”

Dusty sighed.

“What, Dusty? I heard you sigh. Isn’t this your job?” Emma snapped.

“Emma, I’m a city cop. Gabby lives in the county. If one of you will just call 9-1-1, they’ll send someone out. I’m on duty and that’s not my jurisdiction. I’m sorry!”

“Forget it, Dusty. We’ll deal with it. Do. Not. Call. The. Police. Am I clear on that?” Emma asked brusquely.