Page 46 of Their Haunted Hearts (Detectives Kane and Alton #27)
Forty-Five
Outside, the hum of the generator masked all the noise around Julie.
She walked quickly, eyeing the strange shadows created by the flickering signs.
They seemed to move as if someone was hiding there waiting for her.
Exhausted, she glanced around, searching the shadows as she pumped the gas.
Alone, she’d become vulnerable and, carrying a can full of gas, she’d be slow and ripe pickings for a serial killer or a hungry bear.
She screwed on the lid to the can and lifted it with a moan.
It was heavier than she figured or she’d suddenly lost all her strength.
She started when a scraping of boots came from the darkness and spun around but it was just the man returning to his truck.
“That looks heavy and it’s starting to rain again.” The man stood beside the door to his truck. “Can I give you a ride back to your vehicle?” He gave her a reassuring smile.
Hesitating, Julie stared at him. Overwhelmed with tiredness, the idea of walking along the highway alongside the dark forest frightened her, but she’d made it to the roadhouse okay.
The highway was deserted and she could think of no reason why she wouldn’t get back safely.
She stared into the distance and saw only black.
Her attention moved back to the man. He appeared to be rooted to the spot waiting for her to answer as if he’d got all the time in the world. “I don’t think so. I don’t know you.”
“Sure, but if that’s your truck I passed on the way here, it’s not five minutes by car, three maybe, and you look tuckered out.” He shook his head. “I feel bad about leaving you alone. I couldn’t live with myself if something bad happened to you.”
She swayed, feeling so desperately tired that she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Suddenly his offer made sense. She handed him the gas can. “Thanks.”
“It will be my pleasure.” He stowed the gas can in the back of his truck and opened the passenger door for her. “It’s strange how people meet, isn’t it? You needed help and I came along just at the right time.”
Mouth suddenly dry, Julie’s vision blurred and her dad’s voice screamed in her head. He’d lectured them about date rape drugs and how they felt. She blinked. Had this man slipped something into her coffee? She needed her dad, Jenna, Dave, anyone to help her. A memory slid into her foggy brain.
Your tracker ring is now like a satellite phone; you can get a signal out anywhere.
She pressed her ring, waited ten seconds, and pressed again.
One press went to her dad, two went to everyone on the team.
She lifted her hand as if to push back her hood.
“I’m parked about a quarter of a mile from the roadhouse.
It was so kind of you to give me a ride.
I can’t believe how sleepy I feel. I figured the coffee would have revived me after the walk. ”
“Then sleep.” The man smiled at her. “I’ll wake you when we get there.” He started the engine.
Julie’s hand went to the handle and she pushed the truck door open and fell onto the wet driveway. “I’m trying to get away, Dad. I’m running down the ramp from the roadhouse to the highway. I figure this guy is going to kill me.”
With legs like lead, Julie ran but it was like running in slow motion. The truck was on her before she got to the end of the ramp.
“You’re not getting away from me. You’ll never rise again.” The man jumped out, grabbed her, and tossed her back inside.
She screamed and kicked out at him, landing one in his groin. When he buckled, she dropped to the ground and crawled away. “Hurry. He’s going to kill me.”
Staggering to her feet, she ran into the shadows, trying to find a place to hide, but he was up and had seen which way she had headed.
She dodged and lurched from one place to the other as if in a drunken stupor but then she heard him chuckle from behind her.
Pain shot through her head from a single hard punch.
Dizzy, she fought with rubber limbs as he lifted her and tossed her over one shoulder.
In a few strides he was back at his truck.
This time he tossed her into the bed. She hit the metal hard and all the air rushed from her lungs.
“You can’t win.” He reached for a toolbox and grabbed a roll of duct tape. “You’re mine.”
The drug was paralyzing her and she had one last chance before she passed out. Her words sounded slurred and she tried hard to make sense. “Silver pickup, Montana plates, heading north. Tall broad man wearing a cowboy hat and shiny boots. I’m in the back of his truck. Daddy, help me. ”