Jake moved, twisted, then nodded his head.
“Reach for it and give it to me.”
The radios squawked, then the air outside was pierced by the whistle of an approaching train.
“Hurry,” Jenn whispered.
Moving his arm around the base of the seat, reaching with his fingers, Jake accidentally tipped the key to the edge. Gasping, Jenn glanced to the slit of view under the hood, seeing Cobb still working, then back to Jake, straining, stretching until his shaking fingers touched the key, dragged it slowly back until he snatched it and gave it to his mother.
The train’s whistle grew louder with the hammering of its engine.
Jenn moved fast but was careful, angling her hand to insert the key correctly, opening her cuff with a tiny click. She then reached back to free Jake from his cuff.
They moved quietly as she opened her door, bringing Jake to the front, slipping out just as Cobb noticed the shift of weight and glanced around the side to see them out of the van.
Eyeing the train, Jenn ran toward the tracks, about fifty yards away. Her pain flared but she was intent to cross the tracks, putting the train between her and Cobb.
“Run, Jake!”
He was ahead of her, nearly at the tracks, the train nearly at the crossing, its whistle blasting as Jake cleared it safely. Seeing vehicles coming toward him from the distance, he turned to see his mom clear the crossing, with the train bearing down.
Cobb cleared it too.
The passing freight train began thundering by, with Jake running down the road toward the vehicles racing toward them.
Cobb gained on Jennifer, seizing her wrist, pulling her to him.
“Don’t run! Our sister ran and it killed her! Stop! We’re family!”
Jenn struggled in vain. Overpowering her, Cobb manhandled her back toward the train as the first vehicle arrived, stopping within yards.
Greg got out and ran to Jenn and Cobb. Jake ran to Nate.
“Let her go, Cobb!” Greg shouted.
A posse of citizens and police vehicles arrived, and the helicopter circled overhead. Kozak and Carillo ordered Greg to stand back as they approached Cobb, weapons drawn.
“Release her!” Kozak said.
“There’s no way out!” Carillo shouted.
Cobb turned to the freight train still passing, looked above then at the growing force continuing to arrive.
Loosening his hold on Jenn, Cobb held up his hands.
Jenn flew to Greg and Jake, their arms locking around each other in a fierce, trembling embrace.
It was over.
BOOK THREE
THREE MONTHS LATER
Ninety-Eight
Alden, New York
Jenn squeezed Greg’s hand.
He ran his thumb over her rings.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked.
Nodding, she looked at the cold stone walls warmed by colorful artwork made by the children of inmates at the Wende Correctional Facility.
Since her rescue, Jenn had worked to take back her life, to be Jake’s mom and Greg’s wife, first, by doing the little mundane tasks that comforted her, restored order to her life, like cleaning her house, getting groceries, all while loving the people who loved her.
It helped her find herself again.
She’d reconciled with Kat; they’d grown closer. And Jenn assured Vince she was going to be okay but needed time.
She had returned to her optometric assistant’s job at Crystallo View Optical. She resumed her role on committees at Jake’s school, happy to learn that Principal Bickersley’s experimental treatment was working. She reconnected with her book club friends, who’d resumed their monthly meetings after Jenn told them she was ready.
Jenn had Greg drive her and pick her up for the first one. Each time they traveled the long wooded stretch where it happened in Ripplewood, it made her uneasy. On the night after the first book club, with Jake at Kat’s for a sleepover, Greg and Jenn went to a McDonald’s where Greg told Jenn everything about Brooke Bollman, the whole truth, and how nothing had come of it.
“And nothing will come of it. Ever,” Greg said. “Our business is picking up. We’ll be fine.”
Jenn told him everything about Porter Sellwin, how she’d planned to make a complaint against him, and how it didn’t matter now.
But Jenn hadn’t told Greg everything yet—she still was not ready.
Recovering from the abduction had exacted a toll. Jenn had nightmares, would sob unexpectedly, and nearly panicked the first time emergency lights flashed behind her while driving alone.
What had happened had left her with a black hole of uncertainty in her life, she told Dr. Stuart Maynart after she’d resumed her sessions with him.
“Cobb said things that day,” Jenn told Maynart. “I still need answers.”
Jenn and Greg had learned through the district attorney’s office that Cobb had pleaded guilty to all charges, but was awaiting sentencing. Investigators in New York and Ohio were still digging deeper into the case and his past, including his claims of being Jenn’s half brother and that the unidentified woman killed in Cleveland was Jenn’s half sister.
Then Kozak and Carillo alerted Jenn that Cobb wanted to talk to her. They told Jenn the decision to see him was up to her but that they would be interested in knowing what he had to say.
“I want to see him. I need answers,” Jenn told Greg after discussing it with Maynart.
“Talking with him might give you answers,” Maynart had said. “He could also try to confuse you with truth and falsehood, mislead or wound you with his statements, so be prepared, Jennifer.”
They went through the steps of a prison visit.
Cobb put Jenn and Greg on his visitors’ list. There was an option for a video visit, but she wanted to look Cobb directly in the eye. They completed a visitor application and on their scheduled day, drove some twenty-five miles east of Buffalo to the institution. Bordered with high fencing, topped with razor wire, it was a grim, two-story structure with high red brick walls. Inside, Jenn thought it smelled clean, like a hospital with a hint of high school gym.
They followed the visitor rules—the irony taking Jenn back to the bucket rules in the cell Cobb had made for her. They brought ID. Jenn didn’t wear tight, revealing clothing. She wore no jewelry, except for her wedding and engagement rings. They brought no contraband items and submitted to a pat down before being directed to the visitors’ room, a common area with tables and chairs.
“It’s a no-contact visit. He won’t be restrained. He’ll sit across from you and I’ll be right here,” a corrections officer advised them.