“The truth?”
“I’m sure that this morning she wasn’t trying to help anyone. It was a setup, Ellison. She was setting us all up. She was helping them get Amy. He’s wanted to take her down.” He took a deep breath and added, “Now the bastard has her. But I’m going to get her back.”
20
It seemed forever that Amy lay in a strange state. She was aware, and not aware. She was floating in some distant place, and she couldn’t remember where she had been or how she had gotten where she was.
Then the pain at the side of her head grew and she was rudely reminded that she had oh-so-stupidly allowed Zeke Morrison to come up behind her.
How? How the hell?
Was Casey in on it all—or had she been followed herself, duped?
Well, there was one thing the pain in her head was doing for her; it allowed her to know that, at this moment, she was still alive.
How long she’d stay that way, she wasn’t sure.
She slowly slit one eye open.
And she still had no idea where she was.
It was inside, somewhere. A rustic shack like the one out in the Everglades down farther south. They were far north in the state—out of the Everglades—but that didn’t mean that hunters and weekend campers didn’t keep cabins.
She was tied up, hands and feet tied singly to bedposts. But there had to be a way...
She pulled on the ropes that held her. They were tight and secure.
She heard a grate and a squeaking sound; someone had just opened a door.
She closed her eyes, waiting. She was sure that she could pass for still being unconscious; it had been one good wallop on her head. She could feel the bump rising where the pain seared her.
A stifled sob sounded, and she realized that someone else was in the room; not the someone who had just entered, but another hostage.
Billie? Wilhelmina? The missing woman some had tried so hard to help?
Had she found her at last, right when she could do nothing for her?
No.
The abduction of a state agent would bring down the wrath of the state of Florida. And, with Hunter attached to the case, the resources of the federal government.
But whoever had her intended to kill her. That she knew. So, what was the end game? Did they really think that they could get away with it?
Apparently so.
It was a man who had entered the room. She listened to every little movement. He was stooping down, talking to the other hostage in the room.
“Billie, Billie! See, I brought you company so you wouldn’t be so alone. How are you feeling? You seem so sad and scared. But you shouldn’t be sad or scared. Don’t you understand? You’re going to be a great sacrifice! And you’ll rise so high... You’ll see. Yes, yes, there will be some pain in the here and now. But after that...”
He started laughing.
The man, Amy thought, wasn’t religious in the least. He didn’t even believe in God, she was certain. He believed in himself—and his great agenda, whatever it might be.
Money or power? Seriously, how could ruling a little place like Maclamara be all that he craved? It couldn’t be. Whatever he was doing was supposed to take him farther along his path. And Amy would bet he didn’t care if every single resident of the place died if it got him where he wanted to go. Not even the lives of those he should have loved most, his acolytes, like Phin Harrison, meant anything at all. Men like Phin just received their rewards when times were good, and they knew to end it when times were not.
If only Phin had talked! There had to be someone out there who valued their own life more than loyalty to a madman.
There was, surely. But would they come forward in time to save her or Billie?
Someone else came into the shack.
“She’s still out?”
“Yep. You hit her hard. You might have killed her.”
“I had to hit her hard and fast. She’s dangerous.”
“She’s a woman. What kind of a sissy are you?”
“She’ll come to. She’s breathing, she has a pulse.”
“I want her alive to see how she’s going to die.”
“She is alive!”
“Well, get ready. They’ll know that she’s missing now. They’ll start tearing everything apart to find her.”
“They’ll never find her here.”
“Let’s hope not—for your sake.”
The door opened and closed again. The men were gone.
Amy cracked her eyes open again. “Billie?” she asked softly. The sobbing continued. “Billie—Wilhelmina? Is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me. And you’re...well, I know who you are. I saw you come... I was so afraid. I thought you were one of them, and now...now you’re with me. And we’re going to die. And he will make it hurt. He’ll make it hurt so bad!”
“Billie, how did you get here? You were down south—I know that several people were trying to help you.”
“They caught me,” Billie said. “I was walking on the road from the diner to the motel and they came with their van and... I ran. But they caught me.”
Billie had an accent, but her use of English was fine. The young woman had studied hard, Amy was certain, to make her way to the United States.
“They’re going to kill us!” Billie sobbed again.
“No, they’re not.”
“How can you stop them?”
Amy struggled against the ropes binding her. Damn, they were tight.
Hunter would know by now that she hadn’t arrived back at the inn. Hopefully, he would figure out that she had most probably been set up. By Casey? Or had Casey been a pawn, followed during her every movement?
Yet, how could anyone know Casey was meeting Amy—unless she had told them?
“How can you stop them?” Billie asked, her words partially a whisper, partially a sob, as she repeated her question.
“I don’t know, but I will,” Amy promised. Yes, Hunter would be searching for her by now. “I have friends out there, coworkers, lawmen who will stop at nothing to find us, Billie. I’m telling you we’re going to survive this! Now, tell me—how do they have you tied up? The first thing I have to do is find a way to get out of these ropes.”
* * *
The word was out.
Between them, Hunter and Roger had called local police in five counties, the FDLE, the Highway Patrol and the FBI.