Devil's Lake (Bittersweet Hollow Book 1) (22 page)

She’s such a damned heavy sleeper. Always was.

“Grace!”

Finally in the hallway, she skidded around the corner and entered the bedroom, fuming. “I need you, for crying out loud. Get up.”

She stopped. Inhaled a deep breath. Her hand flew to her mouth.

The bed was empty.

“Maybe she’s in the bathroom?” Portia said to the dogs, who sniffed and growled at the bedclothes.

“Grace? Baby Cakes? You in there?”

She knew. She knew before she looked into the empty bathroom that she wouldn’t find her little sister. 

No, Grace wasn’t in the bathroom.

No, she wasn’t anywhere in the house.

Murphy had stolen her.

 Chapter 51

W
hen Dunne answered the phone this time, he sounded pissed off. “Dunne here.”

Portia hesitated for a split second, then croaked out the words. “He’s got her, Dunne. He’s got Grace.”

“What? Portia, is this you? You mean Murphy took her?”

“Yes. Please. He took her in the police car. I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, hold on a sec. Let me report this. Just hang on the line.”

She heard him barking instructions into the radio for three long minutes. Finally, he came back on the line. “Portia?”

“Yes. Listen, Sheriff, we need ambulances. I think Murphy drugged your officer and Anderson. I smelled the chloroform. And he must’ve hit them over their heads first. Anderson’s got a bad injury on his head.”

“Already called the whole fleet out to your place. They’re on their way. And I see my tow truck coming.”

She heard sirens in the background.

“And there are my reinforcements. I’m commandeering one of these cars and I’ll be there in just a few minutes, okay?”

Portia kept the phone to her ear, but ran outside to check on the men again. “Okay.  See you in a few.”

She tried calling her father, but got no answer.

Ned still lay in the tack room. She knelt beside him. His breathing seemed regular. She tried to rouse him. “Ned? Are you okay?”

He moaned and slowly turned his head. “I feel like I’ve been kicked in the head by a horse.” He pushed himself up slowly and leaned against the door. “What happened?”

Portia ran to the sink and wet a wad of paper towels with cold water. “Murphy happened. Here. Take this and press it against that bump on your forehead.”

“Just give me a second.” He took a minute to orient himself, then stood up shakily. “Where are the others?”

She motioned outside. “He got them, too. They’re all out cold.”

“What?”

Ned came to life, grappling on the floor for his weapon. “Where’s my gun?”

With a guilty start, Portia realized she’d left it in the house. “I’ve got it. I’m sorry, we can grab it in a sec. But Murphy’s gone, Ned.”

Still holding the makeshift compress to his head, he turned his eyes to hers. “How do you know?”

“He stole the police car.”

“How’d he…”

“I don’t know. But there’s more.”

“More?”

“Yes. He took my sister, too.”

Ned’s color drained to pale white. “Oh, God. He took Grace?”

“The Sheriff’s got men chasing him. But I haven’t heard yet…”

She helped Ned up and he hobbled outside with her, gaining strength as he moved. “Boone and the others are over here,” she said.

The dogs followed close on her heels, and when they neared the downed men again, they once again began to try to lick them alive.

Ned fell to his brother’s side, and she checked on the others. The policeman was quiet, lying on his back. This time, she noticed he was snoring.

Alive, and hopefully well.

Anderson’s head wound scared her. “I’m going in to wet a towel for his head,” she said. “It looks pretty bad.”

“Okay.” Ned finished checking Boone’s pulse. “And grab a few blankets. It’s kind of cold on the ground here.”

“Will do.”

When Portia reappeared on the porch, she saw the Sheriff and several other officers jump out of two vehicles and trot toward the men on the ground.

“Portia.” Dunne called. “Ambulance is just thirty seconds out.”

She nodded and fell to Anderson’s side, dabbing at his wound gently with a warm, wet towel. “Thanks, Sheriff.”

He crouched beside her, feeling for Anderson’s pulse. “They lost him.”

Portia’s heart slammed beneath her ribs. She turned to Dunne, whose serious eyes drilled into hers. “He got away?”

“I’m sorry. They found the squad car abandoned out on the access road leading to your woods. It’s got an electronic retrieval signaler, or else we wouldn’t have found it so fast. Tracks there showed another vehicle had been parked before the rainstorm started, then left just recently.”

“So he’s in a car we can’t track?” she said solemnly.

“Right. We’re getting the tire tracks analyzed. We might know at least the class and size of vehicle. It looked like a truck or SUV to me.”

“You know where he’s headed, don’t you?” she said, holding in the tears.

“Where?” Dunne said.

“Devil’s Lake.”

Chapter 52

A
n hour and a half later, the sun finally rose over the eastern hills, infusing the clouds with bright taffy pink and warming the air. With Boone and Ned awake and drinking coffee on her couch, Portia ferried cups to Sheriff Dunne and his men. After the ambulance took Anderson and the police officer to the hospital, they’d been piecing together the “Murphy” situation and reconstructing his clever attack.

Four men down in the middle of the night. One attacker, who apparently never drew his gun. One bludgeon, and that damned bottle of chloroform was all it took.

How could that be, she thought.

The bastard owns one stealthy set of skills.

How did he sneak up on each man, one by one, disable him, and then move up to the next one with such calm purpose?

He’d surprised them. And somehow, he’d weathered the thunderstorms without getting caught or injured.

Portia settled on the couch between Boone and Ned. Ned was in deep conversation with the Sheriff, so she turned to Boone. “How’s the head?”

He moved the ice pack to be able to see her better. “Getting numb.” A half smile slid onto his lips. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Grace is one tough girl,” he said, reading her mind.

“I know. She’ll probably give him a helluva fight.”

He smiled again. “Yeah.”

“Do you think he’s headed out west? Toward Devil’s Lake?”

“Maybe. But he probably won’t return to the cabin for a while. Not until things cool down.”

She got up and paced, suddenly realizing how close she’d been sitting to Boone. And hell, she hadn’t even cared. In fact, it had felt pretty darned good.

Maybe with all that had happened, her stupid fears and panicked ways would finally go away for real?

She paced around the room, looking outside.

Portia didn’t know where she should be, she felt pulled in a dozen different directions.

She should be with Grace, first and foremost.

But no one knew where Murphy had taken her.

Dunne had alerted the local Baraboo authorities, and they’d already staked out the cabin. Maybe he’d return to it, but after thinking about it, she figured he’d avoid the place.

She should also be with Anderson, who’d been whisked away to the hospital, with what the EMTs thought was a concussion. He’d need stitches in his scalp wound. For Grace’s sake, she should be at his side.

She wanted to be with her mother, too, in spite of the fact that she’d stayed behind to face Murphy. She still hadn’t roused her father on the cell phone. But it was early, and she’d try again.

No. Here she was. Useless and fretting over something out of her control.

What good had it done to stay home?

All she’d done is to get her sister kidnapped.

Why had he taken Grace, and not her?

Did he think Grace was me?

It was dark in the house when he’d come inside. Maybe he’d confused them?

Her mind kept returning to Devil’s Lake. Murphy loved that place. His fishing Nirvana. He’d be lured back there, Portia was sure of it.

And she knew he’d had a place not far away where he kept other girls.

Another cabin he’d commandeered? A house? Some deserted building?

“Sheriff?” She approached Dunne, who’d just thumbed off his cell phone, looking frustrated.

“Hey, Portia. You holding up okay?”

“I’m fine,” she lied. “But I want to talk to you more about Murphy.”

“Shoot,” he said. “Let’s go sit at the kitchen table. It’s quieter there.”

Boone followed them. “I’m part of this, too. Don’t leave me out, just because I look like Frankenstein.” When he lowered the ice pack, the ugly wound bulged from his forehead.

Portia pulled out a chair for him. “You do look pretty scary. But we’ll let you listen in.”’

Boone shot a surprised glance at her. “You’re making a joke.”

“So?” she said. “What if I am?” She tossed him a smile and grabbed a set of maps from the cabinet, settling at the table.

“That’s a good sign. You’re one strong woman, Portia Lamont.”

“Damned right I am,” she said. “I’m from good Vermont stock, you know.”

Dunne smiled, but he wanted to get right to business, which was fine with Portia. She had an idea.

She spread out the map of Devil’s Lake and its surrounding areas. “I think he’d go back here, guys.”

Dunne leaned forward to study the map.

Boone nodded. “It’s so remote. There’d be a million places he could crash. Lots of camping spots and cabins.”

Portia nodded. “He knows these woods like the back of his hand. And I’m positive he had another site where he kept at least one other woman.”

Dunne looked at her with interest. “What makes you think that?”

She took a deep breath. “When he got tired of me, he’d disappear for a while. He’d come back with fresh clothes, pants and shirts I’d never seem him wear before. He’d be kind of…sated. That’s the only way I can describe it. And he told me…” she hesitated for a minute. “He told me a man needs variety. That he gets tired of the same old thing.”

“Whoa.” Dunne questioned her about the timeline again, trying to hone in on specifics. When they were done, Boone pointed to the map he’d been studying.

“What’s this place?”

All three leaned forward to study the markings more closely. Portia sat up straight. “Wait. It just came back to me. On the trip up there, even though I was groggy, I remember seeing signs for an old munitions plant somewhere up in the woods. It’s not far from the cabin.”

Dunne punched it in on his cell phone. “Baraboo, right?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay. It’s an abandoned site. Partially demolished.”

Boone and Portia exchanged glances, and he stood, locking eyes with Dunne. “I think we should check it out.”

Dunne raised one hand. “Wait a minute. ‘We?’”

“Hell, yeah. I know how to get there. Ned could come up with us. You ready for a road trip, Sheriff?”

Dunne shook his head. “This isn’t television, Boone. You can’t just grab your guns and go in shooting. You’re a civilian. This is police business.”

Portia exploded. “Who cares whose business it is? My sister’s been taken! And Murphy might be on his way right now up to Devil’s Lake. You need to do something, or we will.”

Dunne spread his hands wide. “Whoa, little lady. Hold your horses.”

“Hold my horses?” she said. “Is that all you can say, Sheriff?”

He ducked his head. “Sorry. It’s just I don’t want you two going off half-cocked and getting yourselves killed. Or getting your sister killed, for that matter.”

Portia calmed down, taking a deep breath. “I understand. But the longer we wait to do something, the longer he’s got her.”

Dunne’s phone rang. He answered it, grunted, and hung up. “We’ve got a lead.”

PART IV

Payback

Chapter 53

M
urphy dumped the sister onto his bed in the old Army munitions plant where he used to work. He knew the place inside and out, and although many buildings had already been demolished, he knew about them, too, because he’d been part of the crew that worked on it. There wasn’t a building or trail in this massive complex that he didn’t know by heart. And this particular old building, tucked way off in the corner of the seventy-five hundred acre campus, had been a refuge for him for many years.

He’d taken other girls here, and it worked great. Nobody from the public was allowed on the grounds, not yet anyway. Somebody wanted to turn it into an RV park. Another group lobbied for a bird watching haven. But so far, no decisions had been made except to allow turkey hunters in during April and May. Since that was over, there was little activity in the area except off on one far corner where they’d begun cleaning up the trails. It was well away from him and his little nest. And he’d stayed hidden just fine.

His generator made a little noise when he needed to use it for power, but it wasn’t too bad and he had camouflaged it after rigging it up to the old electric and water systems. In fact, it could be quite cozy in his little corner of the building.

He had a mini-refrigerator, a Coleman stove, a space heater for winter, and lots of blankets. Plus he’d even figured out a way to get his old television to work with a converter box and rabbit ears.

He could figure out anything, anywhere. His mother always said that about him.

He was smart.

Smarter than all those girls.

And sure as hell smarter than the cops.

He’d almost laughed at how easy it had been to trick the cop in the patrol car. He’d been nodding off for a while, anyway. Murphy brought the dogs down from the woods and stuck them in the tack room with a cat, letting them bark a little. The cop had started to come out of his car to investigate, and when he opened the car door, Murphy had sprung at him and knocked him out in seconds. A little chloroform kept him quiet.