Up in Flames (29 page)

Bile rose in Sophie’s throat. She stared at him, but Emmett seemed to have dismissed her. She supposed this solved the mystery of who’d run her off the road on the way home from Artie’s. Frantically, she looked around. The back of the van was empty, devoid of both seats and cleaning equipment. The windowless interior gave her chills. Outside, heavily treed slopes climbed at a steep angle on her right, and plunged into a pine-choked ravine on the left. The road was so narrow that opening her door all the way would nearly clip the trees, and it descended through turns so tight they made speed limits unnecessary.

She glanced down at the narrow shoulder between the van and the side of the mountain. It was dangerous as hell, but there would be no better opportunity.

She slipped her hand over the door handle, prepared herself to drop onto the narrow shoulder, and lifted. The handle moved, but the door remained closed.

“It won’t open,” Emmett informed her, as pleasantly as if they were discussing the beautiful view of the valley below. “And to save you the trouble, neither will the back doors.” He flashed a smile.

She swallowed hard, wondering how she’d imagined only a minute ago that his smile had carried any sex appeal. Now it simply looked predatory.

19

S
ophie hugged the
door panel as she eyed Emmett. He sent glances her way but didn’t seem concerned that she’d try anything. He had good reason—with the drop-offs and dangerous twists in the road, she’d be foolish to do anything that would make him lose control of the van. She was trapped inside and guaranteed to be compliant as long as they were moving down the mountain. There was only one thing he hadn’t taken into consideration—the phone in her back pocket.

The phone that was now in her hand. She kept it behind her back as she angled sideways in her seat, ostensibly keeping an eye on him. And discovered the first thing she didn’t like about her phone—the touch screen. How could she dial without seeing where to tap? The phone icon was in the corner, and she hoped her thumb tap had opened it and not some useless game or news app. Needing an excuse to look at the phone, she asked, “Where are you taking me?” She gazed out her side window like a tourist, then down at the phone. Yes! Her contact list had opened and someone’s name was on the screen.

“Not far,” Emmett said. The answer didn’t matter, and barely registered.

She couldn’t see whose name had come up, and couldn’t risk a longer look, but it had to be the last person she’d called, which was probably a family member. She tapped what she hoped would place a call.

The phone vibrated in her hand and rang with an incoming call, shrill in the quiet van.

She nearly dropped it from surprise, then met Emmett’s startled gaze. She could see him realize his mistake as his brow lowered. “Hand it over,” he snapped.

All she had to do was take the call! She pulled the phone from behind her back, looking at the screen as she did. Cal. She tapped the screen to accept the call.

“Now!” Emmett barked.

She whipped her arm up, away from him. What could he do while driving? But he wasn’t driving anymore; he had stomped on the brakes. Small and distant, she heard Cal say, “Hello?”

“Hel—” It was all she got out before Emmett’s flashing right hook landed on her jaw, cutting off her scream and sending her into darkness.

Zane didn’t know how long he’d spent sitting on the rear bumper of his truck, trying to come up with a way to discourage Sophie. She wouldn’t give up until he was finally in prison, and that could take another six months to a year—more than enough time to thoroughly trash her reputation, or worse, let her fall into Emmett’s hands. All he could do was end the process sooner. Plead guilty and go straight to sentencing.

The very idea was appalling. But this was about Sophie’s life. His was already ruined; at least one of them should have a shot at success and happiness, and she wouldn’t as long as she insisted on tying herself to him.

Zane had his phone in his hand, working up the courage to call his lawyer, when it rang. The screen showed Cal Drummond’s name.

“Hey. How’d you get my number?” Stupid question, seeing that cops probably had access to stuff like that, but he wasn’t used to getting calls from cops.

Cal ignored his question. “Is Sophie with you?” he asked.

The question was sharp and fast, sending prickles of fear across Zane’s scalp. “No, she went up to the commune. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. She just called me, but we got cut off. She yelled something that could have been
hello
, but sounded more like it was going to be
help
, then nothing.”

The same urgency he’d heard in Cal’s voice jumped to life in his chest, knocking his heart against his ribs. He had his truck keys out as he ordered, “Call her back!”

“Did. She doesn’t answer. I’m heading up that way, and I’ll have someone from the commune start checking from their end. There’s only one route she could take.” He paused. “Zane, how sure are you that Emmett didn’t kill Rena Torres?”

The question sent an icy dagger into his body, chilling him to the marrow. Knowing Cal had the same fears he had was no reassurance. “I can’t be sure. But Carl Reznick—”

“He’s refusing to let us into his studio without a search warrant. We’re trying to get one now. There’s an outside chance we’ll convince the judge, because Reznick admitted meeting with Rena, but clammed up as soon as he realized we were looking for evidence.”

Zane couldn’t imagine Carl Reznick as a cold-blooded murderer. Emmett, on the other hand, required no imagination to cast in that role.

“I’m going up there, too,” he said, starting his truck.

“Zane.” Cal’s voice held a sharp warning, but he didn’t miss the fact that the cop had used his first name for once. As if they might be on the same side. “If you find something suspicious before I get there . . .” He didn’t finish the thought. “Where are you?”

“Jase and Zoe’s house.” Which he was leaving as fast as he could.

“I’ll meet you on the road.”

Sophie came to with an aching jaw and fuzz in her mouth. She sputtered and spit at the fuzz, which turned out to be part of a smelly blanket in the cargo area of Emmett’s van that fell away as she moved. She tried to lift her head, then caught her breath as pain shot through her jaw and down her neck.

“Welcome back, princess.”

She blinked and rolled her head. Emmett squatted just inside the open back doors of the van, picking his nails with the pointed tip of a hunting knife. Obviously, they’d stopped somewhere.

She wished she’d had the presence of mind to fake remaining unconscious until she felt more alert. Instinctively scooting away from him, she found her wrists bound together in front of her. He smiled with satisfaction.

“Can’t have you running off now, can we? Or fighting. Girls can scratch pretty hard, so first thing, I always make sure that can’t happen.”

Her mind recoiled from the thought that he had experience in abducting women. She focused on the view beyond the van’s doors—no more dense forest. The trees here were sparser, and much smaller, and the breeze curling inside the van noticeably cooler. Emmett must have taken her to a higher elevation, although the small slice of mountain beyond the doors gave no clue as to where it might be. “Where are we?”

“Someplace real special.” His eyes glittered with cold satisfaction. “Get to your feet, you’ve been passed out long enough.” Her head felt like splitting open at the slightest movement, and she didn’t want to try standing, but he gave her no choice. Stepping out of the van, he yanked her ankles, sliding her across the blanket, which bunched beneath her. Pain shot through her jaw as her head bobbed helplessly. While she was still groaning, he jerked her to her feet, leaving her to wobble on unsteady legs as he stepped back.

She was barefoot. She hadn’t realized it until she stood on cool earth and prickly pine needles. It only added to her problems.

Sophie closed her eyes and hung her head, moaning at the pain and dizziness. All he’d done was sock her in the jaw—was she really that much of a wimp? In movies, men took repeated shots to the face and stomach and recovered within seconds. Either Emmett had superhuman strength, or Hollywood had some explaining to do.

She straightened slowly and opened her eyes, to find him watching impatiently. She squinted against the bright sunlight, trying to figure out where they were. “How long was I out?”

The corner of his mouth curled upward, and she was struck by the incongruity of evil looking so handsome. “Long enough,” he told her, apparently enjoying the memory. She shuddered to think how he might have touched her while dragging her into the back and tying her up. It was probably exactly what he wanted her to think. “I gave you a whiff of something to keep you out. The effects don’t last, though. I know, so don’t try to fake it.”

Meaning, she could have been out ten minutes or an hour. She took in the hillside with its rock outcroppings and scattered trees and thought it looked familiar, but also knew it looked like a million other slopes in the high Rockies. The van had stopped on what looked like a neglected fire road, half-grown over by pine saplings. No one had been this way in the last few years.

“Time to go.”

They were going to someplace more remote than this? “Go where?”

He motioned uphill. “That way. Start walking.”

She looked at the trackless hillside, wondering what was beyond the boulders and trees. A building? One of the many abandoned mines dotting this part of the Rockies? Or just a ravine where a body might molder for years and never be found?

She hesitated. She’d already broken a cardinal rule of safety by allowing him to take her to a new location. Every step seemed as if it would only increase the danger, taking her farther from any hope of rescue. Whatever lay beyond those rocks and trees would almost certainly be the last thing she saw in this world.

Following orders like a lamb to the slaughter was insane. She should fight. Determined to resist, she turned toward Emmett and met the gleaming point of his knife.

It flashed in the sun, a mere foot from her chest. Before she could react, he flicked it across her forearm, drawing a hiss of pain from her along with an immediate welling of blood. She jerked back, cradling her stinging forearm to her stomach and watching him with new fear.

“You prefer right here?” he asked.

She preferred whatever gave her an extra minute to think. An extra minute to live. Biting back tears of pain and the profanities she wanted to spit at him, she turned and started walking uphill.

Zane stood next to Sophie’s Jeep, fighting off the terror that churned at the edges of his mind. Fresh tire tracks on the narrow shoulder of gravel and weeds showed that at least one other vehicle had been there recently. She had to have gone with whoever it was. Or been taken.

“Did they get a location on her yet?” he called out to Cal, who’d been exchanging terse messages on the police radio.

The police SUV was angled behind Sophie’s Jeep, a few feet from where Zane had pulled up in his truck. Cal stood beside the Ford Explorer police unit with the radio cord stretched to its limit. “Her phone’s been turned off; they can’t track it.”

“Son of a bitch,” he growled, wishing he’d done some preemptive ass kicking and bone breaking when he’d had the chance. He’d suspected Emmett posed a threat to Sophie, and he could only blame himself for letting her drive off alone under those circumstances. He’d practically invited Emmett to abduct her.

There had to be a way to find them. Emmett obviously had the presence of mind to turn off her phone, but his brother was no genius. “Can they find out if Emmett has a phone?”

“Already thought of it,” Cal replied grimly. “Checking now.”

Zane kicked dirt impatiently and scanned the surrounding slopes. Above a postcard-perfect vista of trees and meadows, the summer snowcap on Two Bears glistened brightly. He turned. From the side of the road where the Jeep stood abandoned, the mountain dropped into a dense tangle of trees. If she’d gone in either direction on foot, tracking her would be almost impossible. Their only chance was to home in on a cell phone signal, and the odds of that had just been drastically reduced.

Cal’s sudden exclamation of, “Give it to me!” made him jerk his head up, then hurry over to the Explorer. Cal scribbled on a pad of paper, thanked someone, and slid into the front seat to begin tapping information into his navigation system.