Page 52 of Stormswept Colorado (Hart County #3)

FORTY-FOUR

Ayla

The police SUV’s trunk was totally enclosed. Dark. I heard the wheels rolling over asphalt.

It smelled like metal and oil back here. There were doors to storage areas, maybe for police equipment or guns, but they were all locked tight. There was nothing in here I could use as a weapon or means of escape. I felt around for a latch to get out, but there was nothing. He’d taken my phone.

My breaths started to come faster. Shallower. I hated being cooped up like this. Trapped. Like the basement when I was a kid…

Teller, please find me . Thinking of him calmed me. I imagined his arms holding me tight.

All I could do was wait.

The SUV drove for a while. Enough time that I had nothing else but my thoughts and my imagination to keep me company.

This man had to be my real stalker, right? I assumed he wasn’t actually named Duncan. But how had he gotten Officer Duncan’s uniform?

At first, I’d refused to get in the trunk when the man ordered me. But the black circle of his gun’s muzzle had been aimed at me. The sharp smell of the previous shot that killed Paul lingered in the air.

His hands had shook as he held the gun. “ In the trunk, Ayla. I’d rather not hurt you, but if I have to… ”

So I’d done as he asked. I had to stay strong. Stay in one piece so I could fight back and escape.

Every one of my senses had been heightened as I climbed into the SUV’s rear compartment. I was surprised my kidnapper didn’t tie me up or handcuff me, but maybe he thought I’d be secure enough. He’d made me lie down, then closed the door.

Who was he?

He was young, early twenties. I racked my brain, trying to remember if I’d seen him in Silver Ridge before. At the station?

Yes, that had to be it. I’d seen him at the station the day Teller arrested me. Seth Duncan had come into the office to chat with me, but this younger man had been on the fringes. One of the onlookers when I walked through the station in cuffs.

He worked for Teller. Or at least, worked at the same building.

Then my kidnapper’s features struck a deeper chord of recognition inside me, especially given my dream from just a couple nights ago.

The one of Sergeant Carpenter.

I realized, with a terrible sinking feeling, who my kidnapper reminded me of.

The SUV came to a stop, and the engine shut off. A door opened. Footsteps crunched over gravel. The door to the trunk lifted, and I blinked at the sunlight.

“We’re here,” he said. “Climb out.”

I did what he asked, eager to be out of the dark and the stale air of the trunk. My bare feet hit the gravel. Ouch. “Where are we? Is this your house?”

He shook his head. “It’s somewhere safe. Don’t run. There’s nowhere for you to go.”

I tried for a smile. “But you said you don’t want to hurt me. ”

“I don’t. I’m not stupid, though. You can’t trick me, okay?” His voice wavered, a contrast to his words.

Unlike Teller’s home in the woods, this place was in a valley with open meadows of grass all around. No other buildings in sight. The home itself was a classic farmhouse style. Cream-colored siding, a large porch. It looked deserted.

A huge blotch of red spray paint marred the side of the house, like a wound. A looping abstract flower.

I turned back to my kidnapper, studying his features. Was I right? Was this really the boy I remembered from all those years ago?

I had one play. Should I use it now? Or wait until I was alone in that house with him? Then again, the thought of going inside with him had me nauseous. I had no idea what he wanted from me.

“I know who you are,” I said softly. “Jarod.”

His eyes shone, the gun sagging in his grip. “You…you remember?”

“I do now.”

The boy next door who I used to babysit. I hadn’t seen him since he was twelve years old. Had barely even thought of him.

I saw the resemblance now. Jarod reminded me of his father, Sergeant Carpenter, but with features I’d once believed were innocent and kind.

So carefully, I took a step toward him. Tears pressed at my throat, welled in my eyes. “Jarod, I don’t understand any of this. Whatever it’s about, we can figure it out. Please. We can talk. But you have to put down the?—”

“ No .” He raised the gun, aiming it at my chest. “I’ll tell you everything. But only after we go inside.”

Dammit. I really had no choice.

He gestured for me to go first. I walked toward the house. My eyes stuck on the spray-painted flower. “Did you do that, Jarod? The graffiti? The vandalisms?”

“You know about that?” He scoffed. “Of course you do. He told you, didn’t he? The chief.”

“Jarod, why would you do it? You scared people.” I tried to keep my tone steady and mildly disappointed, like I was still his babysitter, and he’d simply broken a house rule. Like I hadn’t seen him murder Paul right in front of me a half hour ago.

“They weren’t safe on their own, Ayla. I had to show them how easily someone awful could come and hurt them.”

Someone as awful as you? I wanted to say. But I couldn’t risk making him angry.

“You mean the women?” I asked. “They were home alone, so they weren’t safe?”

“Like you were alone back on the base when we were kids. Of all people, you should understand what I was trying to do.”

I wanted to scream at him. Tell him this was all madness. But he had a gun pointed at my back.

I led the way inside the house.

The interior was warm, lovingly cared-for.

There were baby bottles on the drying rack by the sink, a high chair at the kitchen table.

A family lived here. But from the lack of any other cars outside, it seemed like they’d left.

Or… oh, please tell me Jarod didn’t hurt them .

I hoped they’d left because of the vandalism.

“Keep going,” Jarod said. “The door up there on the left.”

I reached the door. Opened it. A rough wooden staircase led down into darkness. Stark walls. An unfinished basement.

“No,” I whispered. “Not down there.”

“Ayla, go.” The muzzle of the gun nudged my back. “This is important.”

“But my father used to lock me in the basement in the dark.” Panic started to claw at my throat. I wasn’t claustrophobic, but I still couldn’t stand being trapped. And down there, in an actual basement? “Please.”

“I know. You told me about that a long time ago. You used to trust me, remember?” He reached to flick the light switch. “See? It’s not dark anymore.”

“But I don’t want to.”

The gun pressed harder into my back. “You won’t be alone for long. Wait for me down there. And before you know it, I’ll come to you. We can finally be together. Like we were always supposed to be.”