She Can Hide (She Can Series) (9 page)

CHAPTER TEN

The accident file was officially relabeled
ATTEMPTED HOMICIDE
.

Ethan watched Abby process the news and arrive at the conclusion he and the chief had already drawn. Pity and anger churned in his gut.

Abby was silent. Disbelief and shock glazed her eyes. Her hands clenched into tight fists on her knees, and her gaze strayed to the door, as if she couldn’t wait to get out of the chief’s office. Which was the opposite reaction he’d expect from a normal person who’d just discovered she’d almost been a murder victim.

“What else are you doing?” Brooke’s eyes pinned him to the wall. “What about the school’s security cameras?”

Ethan nodded. “I reviewed all the school’s security tapes. Unfortunately, the cameras don’t cover the entire parking lot, only the building exits, the main halls, and a few other strategic spots. We have footage of Abby leaving the building along with kids and teachers. I’m going to ask you both to review a few screenshots and see if you notice anything out of the ordinary.”

Abby rearranged her face into a composed mask. Too composed. Why wasn’t she freaking out? Wouldn’t most women be crying if they’d thought they might have been raped?

She cleared her throat and straightened her spine. She might be reining in her emotions, but Ethan could see the distress deep in her eyes. “Can I use this computer? I need to check on the status of an inmate at Greenville.”

“Oooo-kay,” Ethan said, his turn to be stunned. “Want to tell us what’s going on?”

She gave him a nearly imperceptible shake of her head. Her face was bloodless, the skin on her face stretched tight. “After.”

Ethan opened the laptop, booted it up, and established a secure Internet connection. Brooke was on her feet again and pacing the tiny strip of floor behind her chair. He slid the computer across the table, turning it to face Abby. Then he got up and walked around to look over her shoulder as she pulled up the website for the Victim Information and Notification Everyday system, otherwise known as VINE, which was a nationwide database to help victims keep tabs on prison inmates. She typed into a few blanks. Her speed with the site suggested practice. She didn’t have to look up any of the inmate information either.

Abby pressed
SEND
. She interlocked her fingers while the computer chugged. Her knuckles paled under the pressure.

INMATE NOT FOUND
.

“No. It has to be a mistake,” she whispered to herself. She typed in the number again.

INMATE NOT FOUND
.

The air whooshed out of her in one huge exhale. Her face whitened, and her brown eyes went dark with shock. Ethan pulled her chair away from the table and put a hand between her shoulder blades. He guided her head down. “Breathe.”

“It can’t be right. There has to be a mistake.” She bent forward, hanging her face in front of her knees. “He had three more years before he was even eligible for parole.”

The chief leaned back in his chair and rubbed his jaw. Brooke stared in alarmed silence. Ethan kept his hand on Abby’s back. Her spine trembled under his palm. He wanted to wrap his arms around her but doubted she could handle it.

He moved his hand in a gentle circle. “Who, Abby? Who were you looking for?”

“Zeke Faulkner. The man who kidnapped me three years ago.” Abby spoke to the carpet.

Ethan’s heart dropped into his gut. He barely held back the
what?
that was screaming through his head.

Abby sat up. “I met Faulkner at my gym. He asked me out, but I said no. There was something creepy about him. I came home from work one night. He was waiting in the bedroom closet. I didn’t see his face, but I knew it was him. He wore very distinctive cologne, and I recognized his voice. He knocked me out. When I woke up, I was in a hole in the ground. It turned out to be an abandoned well.”

“How long did he keep you?” And what did he do to her while he had her prisoner? Ethan dropped his hand to her forearm. He needed to keep touching her, to maintain a connection. Without it he feared she’d withdraw again. She didn’t protest.

“Faulkner never came back. The school reported me missing when I didn’t show up for work. Several people had seen him following me around the gym. When the police started looking for him, they found out he was already in jail. He’d been picked up after a bar fight the same night he grabbed me. They didn’t find me for ten days. The farm was in the Pine Barrens. Luckily, there was a small amount of water in the bottom of the well or I would have dehydrated.”

“Faulkner went to prison?” Ethan asked.

“Yes.” Her voice was distant and disconnected. “They found my hair in his trunk, and he’d left DNA on a cigarette butt near the window he used to gain entry into my house. Faulkner pled not guilty, but he didn’t take the stand. With all the physical evidence, the trial was short, and he was sentenced to eight years. But the prosecutor told me he wouldn’t likely get parole until he’d served at least five.”

“Eight years for kidnapping?” Ethan said through clenched molars. “That’s ridiculous.” But Ethan knew the sentences for violent crimes were often horrifyingly short due to prison overcrowding, tight budgets, and other lame, horseshit-type reasons.

“I’ll double-check with the warden.” The chief stood. “Brooke, can you come with me? Ethan, get that slideshow going.”

Brooke followed the chief out of the conference room.

Ethan flexed his jaw, which ached from grinding his teeth. “While we’re waiting for the chief, I’d like you to watch some video segments to see if there’s anyone at the school who shouldn’t be there.”

“All right.” Abby brought her knees up to her chin and hugged her shins. Her gray skirt was long enough to cover her to the ankles of her black leather boots. Her brown eyes, usually warm, were desolate and vulnerable.

“Can you think of anyone else who has a grudge against you? Anyone else who would want to hurt you?”

A slight hesitation. “No.” She was still hiding something. How bad could it be? She’d already told them a horrific story. What could possibly be worse than that? Ethan’s stomach soured. She’d been kidnapped three years ago, and someone had tried to kill her last Friday. The sky was the limit on surprises after those events.

Abby’s curled body was stiffer than his dress blues. He opened the laptop. He doubted she would see anything, but the distraction might be helpful. Besides, she looked like she was withdrawing, and Ethan wanted to keep her engaged.

Her gaze fixed on the screen, her expression unreadable. Most people would be losing it if they’d learned they’d been poisoned, but Abby had gotten more composed after hearing the news. She hadn’t even flinched at the possibility that she’d been raped.

What. The. Hell?

Ethan tapped on the touchpad to wake the hibernating computer and clicked on the media player. The open file was paused. He clicked PLAY, and the segment rolled.

With bleak eyes, she watched the exodus of students and teachers. What was she thinking? “Let me know if you see anyone out of place or someone you don’t recognize.”

She slid further down in the chair and hugged her legs harder. “OK.” Staring at the screen, Abby pressed her knuckle against her mouth.

She’d only lived in Westbury for two years. Ethan needed to know everything about her life prior to the move. “Any chance you have an angry ex?”

“No.” She didn’t take her eyes off the computer screen. “I haven’t dated anyone since I moved here.”

“Social media accounts?” he asked in case he’d missed her pages in his Internet search. The last young woman attacked in Westbury had broadcast her every activity on the Internet.

“None.”

Ethan had thought maybe if they were alone, she’d talk to him. He was obviously wrong, and her one-word answers weren’t going to help him solve her case. If anyone had a chance to get some information, it was Brooke. Ethan hoped the chief was making that point to Brooke right now. But how could Ethan get Abby to trust him?

“How about family?”

She blinked. The corner of her mouth trembled, but she smoothed out her expression with a sniff. “There’s no one.”

“No one?” As soon as the surprised words left his mouth, Ethan silently cursed his lack of tact.

“My mother died shortly after the trial,” she said in a monotone voice. “I have no siblings, and I haven’t seen my father in years. He wasn’t a big part of my childhood.”

“I’m sorry.” Ethan tilted his head and tried to catch her gaze. Her eyes flickered to his and returned to the computer with a frightening lack of emotion. He’d seen her with her young neighbor and her dog. She wasn’t the cold, controlled person next to him.

What was going on behind that guarded expression? Why was she wearing it? Ethan had to find a way to break through the brick wall she’d constructed. She needed to share whatever secret she was holding back. What he didn’t know could get her killed.

The chief appeared in the doorway. “The warden just confirmed that Zeke Faulkner was released from prison two weeks ago.”

Abby opened her eyes to total darkness. Her head pulsed with pain. She blinked. Was she blind? She reached up and felt her eyelids with the pads of her fingers. Either something was wrong with her eyes, or the room was totally dark. She touched her forehead and scalp. When she probed behind her left ear, agony blasted in her skull like a bullhorn. Her stomach heaved. Riding the wave of nausea, she curled on her side and breathed through her nose.

The pain eased back to a dull throb. She lay still and listened. A faint scratch sounded on her left, so soft that she turned her head and strained her hearing to catch a repeat. But all she could hear was the muffled sound of wind from above.

She felt the floor around her. Dirt. Her palm slapped a puddle she sincerely hoped was water. Was she in a shed or basement? With slow and deliberate motions so as not to jar her aching brain, she lifted her head then rose to a sitting position. She raised her hands overhead but encountered no ceiling. With one arm still lifted to shield her head, she eased to her feet. She wobbled. Several moments passed until her legs steadied. She reached high over her head. Still she could feel no ceiling. She turned in a circle, arms outstretched.

Sliding her feet across the ground, she shuffled forward. In two steps, her hands hit a rough surface. Her fingers probed. The material was dry and crumbly. Some sort of rough stone.

Where was she? How long had she been here?

Long enough for her hearing to sharpen. A buzz sounded behind her. Following the sound, her head jerked around. An insect brushed against her face. Abby swiped at it, recoiling and banging her elbow on the wall.

She turned around and shuffled carefully in the other direction, each foot sliding forward to make sure the ground topography didn’t change. Two shuffles forward and her fingers hit another wall. She waved her hands horizontally. The wall curved. Her hole was cylindrical and barely wider than her arm span.

Something on her body jingled. Her fingers searched for the source. Straps crisscrossed her torso. She traced their presence around her chest, waist, and the top of each thigh. Cold metal rings hung from the ensemble.

A harness? Oh my God. Rappelling gear.

Even though everything was black, she looked up on reflex. He had lowered her into a hole in the ground. A well?

She stretched her hands high. Nothing was above. She’d been lowered deep into the bowels of the earth. Her eyes probed the darkness above. Fear crawled through her belly. Where was she? Where did the man go who’d taken her? And when was he coming back?

Abby sank into the cold leather of Brooke’s passenger seat and tried to shake off the memory of her kidnapping.

“Are you all right?” Brooke settled behind the wheel.

“Yeah.”

She gave Abby a flat-lipped, sad smile. “Mike wanted me to ask you again if you think there’s any chance you were raped.”

“I don’t think so.” Panic, intensified by her flashback, bubbled into Abby’s throat. “There’s really no way to know for sure, is there? It’s been four days. But my instincts and all the facts we do have say no.” She was going to hold onto that for now because at this moment she couldn’t deal with the alternative.

“I’m so sorry.” Brooke reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’re probably right, but you might want to see your doctor.”

Fortunately she was on birth control pills. But what about sexually transmitted diseases? She’d been healthy and hadn’t bothered to find a new doctor since she’d moved. Except for her house and job, she hadn’t done many of the things people did when they were putting down roots. In the back of her mind, had she known this new start was temporary and that eventually she’d have to find another place to hide? Tears burned the corners of her eyes. One escaped, sliding down her cheek.

She buried the thoughts, like so many others. She had to get home. Dig in. Hide from reality. It was what she did best.

Brooke started the engine. “Let’s collect Zeus and some of your things and go back to my house.”