Lonestar Angel (35 page)

Half turning, she felt a hand on her arm. Then something sweet and moist pressed against her nose and mouth. Struggling, she tried to scream but only succeeded in sucking in more of the chemical on the rag pressed against her face.

Then she was falling into a darkness even more profound.

The flashlight beam probed the darkness only a few feet as Clay walked back toward the house that he knew had to be back here. But there were no lights to guide him. Surely Eden hadn’t turned out the lights and gone to bed. Frowning, Clay strode in what he thought was the right direction. He stopped and shined the light higher, then saw the outline of the bunkhouse. Finally. He mounted the steps and poked his head inside.

“Eden?” He flipped the switch on the wall but nothing happened. He caught his breath. A thrown breaker or something deliberate? “Eden?” he called again.

Where was the breaker? He tried to remember. He’d seen it somewhere. In the kitchen maybe? He made his way to the kitchen. The scent of chili hung in the air. He hadn’t smelled it when he came in the first time, so Eden must have been warming it for him. He touched the stove and found the pot warm. Where was she? Alarm bells were ringing in his head.

He shined the light around the room. No sign of the breaker box. Wait, wasn’t it on the outside wall right here? Letting the flashlight guide his way, he shoved open the screen door and stepped onto the back porch. The electrical box was mounted on the siding. He aimed the light at the panel and opened the cover. All the breakers looked okay. Frowning, he studied them, then stared at the main. It was flipped off. His gut clenched.

He stepped back into the kitchen. “Eden?”

It didn’t matter if he awakened the girls now. He had to find his wife. Room by room, he turned on lights and searched. The bright lights did nothing to lift his fear. Not in the living room. Not in the bathroom or their bedroom. In the children’s room, they all slept in spite of his voice calling for Eden.

He had to get help from Rick. He went out to the living room and called her name once more, then stepped to the porch, pausing to turn on the porch light. The bulb pushed back the shadows, and he could see the swing and the chairs on the porch. No Eden.

Cupping his hands to his mouth, he called for her again. When there was no answer, he went down the steps to the yard, sweeping the flashlight beam over the area. Something glittered in the weeds. He focused the flashlight. A spoon covered with chili.

“Eden!” He raced to the main house and pounded on the door. When Allie opened it, he looked past her. “Get Rick. Eden’s missing.”

“Oh no!” She turned and called over her shoulder. “Rick, hurry!”

Rick came through the kitchen door still chewing on his dinner. He swallowed. “What’s wrong?”

“I think someone has taken Eden.” The words caused cold terror to curl in his belly. “Call the sheriff.” He sagged against the door frame and wondered if he would ever see his wife again.

33

E
VERY BREATH DRAGGED IN A SICKENINGLY SWEET TASTE
. E
DEN TRIED TO OPEN HER EYES
and couldn’t. Another odor penetrated the smell of chloroform. Mouse droppings. She managed to lift her lids and squinted in the dim light.

She lay on a dirty sofa littered with chewed paper and mouse dung. Every instinct told her to spring to her feet, but her muscles refused to obey. The most she could do was to lift her head away from the disgusting mess.

A soft hand touched her arm. “How do you feel, dear?”

She stared into the face of a woman in her late forties or early fifties. Dark hair, sweet smile, compassionate eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses.

Eden tried to smile back, but she was sure it was more of a grimace. “My head hurts.”

The woman helped her sit. “You’ve been unconscious all night.”

Eden’s head throbbed so badly she found it hard to think. “Where am I?”

“I’m not sure. In a cabin somewhere in the desert. I can’t make out much. The windows are boarded up and there are only tiny cracks to see out. The door is padlocked on the outside.”

It all rushed back to Eden. The lights going out. The attack. She wobbled to her feet. “I have to get out of here!” Brianna and the other girls had to be okay. And Clay.

The woman grabbed her arm. “Settle down, honey. Neither of us is going anywhere.”

“We’re prisoners here?”

The woman shrugged. “The only power over us is what God has allowed. When he’s ready to release us, nothing will stand in his way.”

Her manner drew Eden. Such confidence and trust calmed her. She wished she was so quick to have faith. “Have you seen our captor?”

“Only vaguely. I could tell little through the windshield as I tried to escape being struck by the truck. I hit my head when I was forced off the road. When I awoke, I was here.”

Eden eyed the woman, realizing who she was. The lady wore a black skirt and white blouse that was a little wrinkled. Where was the habit, the wimple? “Forced off the road. You’re Sister Marjo?”

“Why, yes. How do you know of me?”

“We were expecting you at Bluebird Ranch. I’m Eden Larson. My husband and I are counselors for the girls.”

She took off her glasses and polished them on her skirt. “Then you’ve been taking care of our Lacie.”

“I have.”

“What did you see when you were taken?”

“I was drugged in the dark and saw nothing.” She could still smell the sickening odor of the chemical and wished she could have a sip of water. “Is there anything to drink?”

“Let me get you water.” The nun went to a plastic jug by the door.

A sleeve of cups was beside it. There was also a loaf of bread, a jar of Jif peanut butter, and a can of nuts beside it, but Eden wasn’t hungry. Her tongue wanted to stick to the roof of her mouth, so she drank the water greedily when the sister handed her the red cup.

“Did you see him bring me in?” Eden asked after she drained the last drop.

Sister Marjo shook her head. “I was sleeping, then heard the door shut. I found you on the floor just inside the door. I assume he dropped you inside.”

“You carried me to the sofa?”

The nun shuddered. “I couldn’t let you lie on the floor. Spiders and scorpions.”

Eden shivered too. “Thank you.”

She peered around the dim space. The one-room cabin held only a battered table, the shredded sofa, and a bank of open cabinets that were empty. The place smelled of dust and disuse. And mouse.

“Where did you sleep?”

“I curled up on the table.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was nothing, my dear. I was quite comfortable.”

Eden went to the boarded-up window on the wall by the door. She tried to slip her fingers under the board, but she couldn’t even get her nail beneath it. “I think these haven’t been up long.”

Sister Marjo came to stand beside her. “I thought the same. They appear to be quite new.”

Eden went to look into the old sink, layered with cobwebs. “If we only had something to pry them up with.”

“I looked everywhere. There isn’t so much as a spoon.”

Eden glanced to the door. “What about the peanut butter? How are you spreading it?”

“I haven’t so far. I assume he expects me to use my fingers, but there’s no way to wash so I’ve had a handful of nuts only. I didn’t want to contaminate the whole jar of peanut butter with my filthy hands.”

No help there, then. “If there was even a stray nail,” she said. “It’s so dim in here. Can you tell what time of day it is?”

“I believe it’s morning. It was still dark a couple of hours ago, then the room began to lighten a bit.” She pointed to threads of sunshine coming in through cracks in the walls and the roof. “I don’t have a watch.”

Eden was already feeling a bit claustrophobic. She wanted out of here. If she had the nerve, she would crawl on her hands and feet along the floor and feel for anything that might be helpful. She slipped off her shoes and swept her stocking foot back and forth across the surface.

When she heard something roll across the floor, she pounced on it. “It’s a nail!” she said, holding it aloft. Maybe they’d get out of here yet. She had to live, had to raise her daughter.

The first board held fast to the wall. Eden’s initial high hopes began to fade when she couldn’t pry the nail under the second board either. “I need something to hit it with,” she said. “Maybe the nut can?”

Sister Marjo ran to get it. “Here you go.” She handed it to Eden.

Wedging the tip of the nail under the lip of the board, Eden smacked the head of the nail with the can. “It’s under!”

She knocked it again and it slipped a tiny bit more. Little by little she drove the nail under the edge.

“You need something to exert leverage now. The nail is too small to maneuver,” Sister Marjo said. She glanced around the room. “Let me see if I can get the table leg off.”

She flipped the table on its side and began to wiggle one of the legs. “It’s loosening!” The leg clattered to the floor, and she brought it to Eden. “Push on the nail with this.”

Eden wedged the edge of the nail into a crack in the end of the table leg and pushed on it. The board seemed to give a little. Patiently she repeated the movement so many times she lost track. “I’ve got it!” she said when the board came up far enough that she was able to get the table leg under it. One more hard shove and she was able to wrench the board from the window.

Sunlight streamed through the opening. There was no glass in the frame.

The nun peered outside. “Any idea where we are?”

Eden stared too. “Not really. I don’t see any other houses or roads around.” Even if they got out of here, which direction should they head? “I think I can get the rest of these boards off now.”

She grabbed the board she’d removed and used it as a fulcrum to pop the next board loose. Once it was out, she and Sister Marjo might be able to squeeze through the window sideways. But once it was free, she decided to take another board out. Then the entire window was open to the elements. The heat poured in, and she wiped her brow.

“You’re very inventive, young lady,” the nun said. “Shall we get out of here?”

Eden smiled. “I’ll go first so I can help you out.” She put on her shoes. With one arm through the window, her shirt snagged on the rough wood, and she heard the material tear. Jerking it free, she managed to get outside the building. She could toss the blouse.

“This should be fun.” The sister hiked up her skirt and put one leg through.

Eden grabbed her arm and helped her onto what was left of a front porch. They were free! She turned and stared at the barren hills. There was no sign of civilization in any direction. No sound of tires on pavement. Only the caw of a crow overhead. The wind rustled through the cacti and grasses and made her feel alone and vulnerable. A lone coyote cried somewhere in the distance and the sound raised the hair on the back of her head.

“I can see you’re frightened,” Sister Marjo said. “Don’t be. God sees us.”

Eden knew that too, but there was something in the nun’s voice that was more confident than a platitude. “He talks to you?”

“Not in audible words, but with impressions.” The nun put her hand on her chest. “I feel it here. And we should go that way.” She pointed to a distant desert peak.