"The spinning lights?" he echoed. "It was Dillon who picked you up?"
"I think so. It wasn't a police car. It was the party van."
"Are you still at Tom's house? I'll come to you."
"I'm not there. I followed Dillon. He went through a drive-thru, and then he brought food to a cabin in the woods."
"Willow, you need to be careful."
"I am being careful. I parked in front of a cabin a good distance away. He didn't see me. In fact, he just left the cabin, going back the way he came. But he didn't have the envelope in his hand anymore, and I need to see what was in it. Since he's gone, this is my best chance to find out what he needed to take out of Tom Ryan's house so soon after his death. It could be Melanie's diary. If Dillon picked me up in the van, then he might have had the diary. Tom could have been protecting Dillon all these years."
"It makes sense, but damn—Dillon? I can't imagine he would hurt Melanie."
"It's hard to believe. She really loved that kid. I'm going to check out the cabin."
"But you said Dillon dropped the food off. That means someone else is there."
"I was thinking that, too," I conceded. "But Dillon could have just eaten the food while he was driving and dropped off the trash and the envelope at the cabin before leaving again."
"Don't go in there without me. Where are you?"
"I'm not sure. There was a sign for Gold's Beach. I think I was there a long time ago, but this area doesn't seem that familiar."
"I know where you are. Just stay put. I'll be there as soon as I can."
I set down the phone and thought about staying put, but as minutes passed and there wasn't a soul or a car around, I got out of the car and moved through the trees, careful to stay in the shadows, not that there was anyone around to see me.
The motorcycle I'd seen Dillon on earlier in the week was parked by the garage. This had to be his home. But I had no idea if anyone else was in the cabin. I moved toward a nearby window and peeked inside.
My heart stopped. There was a woman in the cabin. She had her back to me, but the long, blonde hair was very familiar. My breath sped up. Was it Kelsey?
I wanted to tap on the window, to call out her name, but I didn't know if she was alone or if there was someone else in the cabin. I backed away and hid behind a tree. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and tried to call Drake, but there was no signal. I didn't want to take time to run back to the car. I could wait.
But what if Dillon came back? What if this was the only chance I had to save my sister?
I walked around the back of the cabin. There was a door that appeared to be off the kitchen. I twisted the knob, but it was locked. I moved around to the other side of the building and saw a window that was half open. It was about five feet off the ground. I looked around for something to climb on and saw a paint bucket by a shed. I dragged it over to the window, then climbed up. I shoved the window higher, cringing at the noise it made. It probably wasn't that loud, but it felt exceptionally loud to me. I waited, wondering if someone would come to investigate, but I didn't hear any movement.
I put my hands on the sill and lifted my body through the window, landing on my feet in a small bathroom. There was a brush on the sink, blonde hair wrapped around the roller. I held my breath as I moved to the door. It was closed. That was a lucky break. I turned the knob and quietly opened it. I was in a hallway. I stepped out, now hearing a television in the background.
I crept down the hall and peeked into the room. My breath stalled in my chest. Sitting at the kitchen table was a blonde woman. She was sipping on a milkshake, her hair falling forward, covering her face. But I knew her. I'd known her from the minute she was born. I took another step forward.
She lifted her head, her startled gaze meeting mine.
"Oh, my God! Kelsey!" I cried. I had no idea if there was anyone else in the room, and at that moment, I didn't care. I just needed to get to her. I ran forward as she got to her feet. I threw my arms around her thin body. "You're alive. You're all right."
"Willow," she murmured in wonder.
As her shoulders start to shake, I stepped back to look at her, keeping my hands on her arms. That's when I realized she had a handcuff on her wrist that was attached to a long metal chain.
Tears of relief dripped from her blue eyes, her gaze exhausted and terrified. "Willow," she said again. "Is it really you? Where did you come from?"
"I climbed through the bathroom window." I knew that wasn't exactly what she had meant, but it was all that came to mind. "Are you hurt?" I didn't see bruises or blood, but her hair was dirty, and she didn't look like she'd slept in days. She was barefoot and still wearing the dress she'd put on for the bonfire three days ago, but she also had on an oversized gray sweatshirt.
"I'm okay. I just didn't think anyone was ever going to come." She cried harder and moved forward, wrapping her arms around my neck.
I wanted to hold her forever. This was my baby sister, the girl who'd once looked to me to take care of her. Over the years, we'd lost that. We hadn't hugged like this in forever. We'd been so different that Kelsey had turned to Brooklyn and not to me, but now it was just us again.
The heavy weight of the chain hitting my side reminded me we didn't have time for this. I gently disengaged from her. "I've got to get you out of here."
"You can't," Kelsey held up her arm. "I've tried to break the cuff open. Nothing works."
"Dillon did this to you?"
"Yes."
"I can't believe it."
"He said he's trying to save me. He has told me wild stories, Willow. I don't believe any of them. Dillon is crazy. He thinks Gage killed Melanie. That's why he kidnapped me so that Gage wouldn't kill me, too. Dillon is insane. Gage wouldn't hurt me; he loves me."
Her words took me back to my original thought—that Gage had killed Melanie. But then I'd started thinking it was Dillon. Now, I didn't know what to believe. "Maybe Dillon isn't crazy," I said slowly.
Shock widened her gaze. "What are you talking about? Gage is not a killer. He's a good man. I'm the bad one. I did so many bad things. You don't even know."
I knew more than she thought. "We can talk about it all later. I need to get you out of here before Dillon returns. Does he have a key to the handcuff? He must let you up to go to the bathroom."
"The chain is long enough I can reach the bathroom. He has never taken it off. He kept saying he was doing it for my own good and that one day I'd thank him. Even if I didn't, I'd still be alive."
I didn't know what to make of her story. Some of it made sense, but a lot of it didn't. I was considering our options when I heard an engine. I ran to the window and saw the van. "Damn. Dillon is back already."
"He just went to get me some ranch dressing. They forgot to put it in the bag. He knows I like it with my fries."
My gaze narrowed at her words. She'd just painted a picture of a very thoughtful kidnapper. "Dillon has been feeding you, taking care of you?"
"Yes."
"Did he…touch you?"