Page 27 of Vanishing Point (Bent County Protectors #1)

Thomas arrived at the address Jack and Carlyle had originally taken to search.

It was a lot like the one he’d just been at.

A kind of overgrown entrance, and Thomas really would have missed this one if not for Jack’s patrol car parked out front, half in the ditch since there was no shoulder along the road here.

Jack and Carlyle were standing in the ditch.

Thomas pulled up behind him and was already getting out of the car even as he pushed it into Park.

Jack wasted no time to explain the situation.

“Like I said in the message, we got here and did a quick canvass. The rental car that my deputy pulled over this weekend was parked behind the… Well, it’s kind to call it a house anymore.

After I left you that message, we let the dog out, just to see if she’d get a hit for Vi specifically.

The dog alerted that she smelled Vi with a bark. ”

Thomas didn’t like that. A bark could alert those inside of police presence, especially someone like Eric who was police, and could have experience with K-9s and how they worked.

“We had a visual on the door, but kept out of sight,” Jack continued.

“A man fitting Eric Carter’s description came out.

He was carrying a gun—semiautomatic. He didn’t see us or the dog, as we’d called her back.

He scanned the yard, then went back inside.

I don’t think he suspects police, but you never know. ”

Thomas was already itching to move, but Jack was still talking.

“We’ve called Sunrise and Bent County for backup. Sunrise should be here in ten minutes, tops. Bent might be a few more with the regional SWAT team.”

Thomas shook his head. “No SWAT.”

“This is, essentially, a hostage situation,” Jack said pointedly. Like Thomas might not have the most objective handle on the situation.

And he didn’t, but… “Yeah, and I know how to handle a hostage situation.”

“But maybe you shouldn’t handle it in this case,” Jack said.

Thomas looked from Jack, to Palmer, to Carlyle.

He’d worked in some capacity with each of them over the past few years.

When he and Jack had been deputies at Bent County.

Then with Hudson Sibling Solutions, their cold case investigative business, and then over the past year with dangerous situations that had cropped up with their family.

And not once had they backed off when people they cared about were in trouble.

So Thomas didn’t even bother to tell Jack he was wrong.

He just kept talking, like Jack had never voiced an objection.

“We have a volatile criminal who is trained SWAT—hence why I don’t want them going in there.

He knows their moves, the training. It isn’t safe,” Thomas said.

“We have a postal inspector we don’t know much about likely in there unless they have a second vehicle.

Seems unlikely. She’s also trained law enforcement, though, and we have to keep that in mind.

Likely also inside we have the…” He couldn’t use the word victim .

“…kidnapped subject, Vi Reynolds, who at the very most, knows how to shoot a gun because her cousin taught her how.”

Thomas tried to hold on to that thought. Vi had learned how to protect herself some, so there was hope. He had to hold on to hope.

“You need to draw the bad guys out,” Carlyle said. She held the dog by the collar, but her gaze was on the entrance with a frown.

“That would be ideal, but we have to make sure they come out of their own accord. And that they leave Vi safely out of range.”

“I have an idea,” Jack said. “This happened on a case a while back. A car fire was used as a distraction to draw people out. It worked pretty well then. So, what if we set a fire in their car? Maybe they’ll come out to try and stop it or get anything out of the car they might have left in there.

If they’re concerned enough about the property, they might leave Vi in the house. ”

“Destruction of property? That doesn’t sound like you, brother,” Palmer said, at almost the same time Carlyle rubbed her hands together and said, “Ooh, I’ll do it!”

“ Can you do it?” Jack asked.

“Of course,” Carlyle said with a shrug. “I’ll need five minutes. Tops.”

“All right,” Thomas said. Maybe it wasn’t the best plan, but it was a plan. Better than letting SWAT take a crack at it. “Jack, do you know anything about the property?”

“Not really any more than the listing told us.”

Thomas nodded. “We’ll need to surround the house best we can before Carlyle starts the distraction. At the very least cover any exit points.”

“I can follow this fence on the other side down the property line, past the house a ways, then jump the fence and come in from the rear,” Jack said, gesturing at the dilapidated line of wooden fence along that marked the edge of the property.

“Okay, I’ll find some cover and try to get eyes on the front…”

A car crested the rise. A Bent County patrol car. And not far behind it, a Sunrise one. Both cars parked behind Thomas’s, then got out. Bent County was Laurel and Copeland. Sunrise was a deputy by the name of Clinton.

“We were already on the way when we heard Jack’s call go out over the radio,” Laurel said as she approached. “What’s the situation, the plan?” she asked and looked right at him. She didn’t suggest he might not be involved, or someone else might take over.

It gave Thomas the slightest amount of relief that he wasn’t doing the wrong thing by refusing to step aside.

Thomas filled them all in. Laid out the plan. They’d all spread out around the house, out of sight as much as possible at first. As more police came, they could fill in gaps. Once they had a good presence, Carlyle would start the distraction.

Ideally, it was that easy. Eric and Dianne emerged to stop the fire and were instead immediately arrested.

When another car came up, Carlyle scooted closer to the entrance. “Uh-oh, that’s Cash. I better get in there before he tries to stop me. I’ll draw it out. Someone signal me when you’re ready for the blaze.” Before anyone could agree or argue with her, she jogged off, through the entrance.

Cash pulled up behind the Sunrise patrol car. He got out and walked over with a scowl. Rosalie hurrying up behind him.

“Where exactly is my wife?” Cash demanded, like he already knew.

Palmer and Jack exchanged looks and then rocked back on their heels. “Well…”

“Setting up a distraction,” Thomas supplied.

“She’s going to be the death of me,” Cash muttered.

“You’re the one who fell in love with her,” Palmer returned.

Cash only grunted. “I’m going to load up the dogs to get them out of the way, unless you think you’ll need them?”

Thomas shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Best to handle this from long range.”

Cash nodded, then whistled for the dog that had been with Carlyle, and let the one in Thomas’s car out. So Thomas focused on the task at hand.

He had a small group of trained law enforcement.

They could do this. “We spread out and surround the house. We surround, then approach, hoping the distraction lures Eric Carter and Dianne Kay out. As more cops get here, we add them to the mix. Eric Carter is our number one target. Dianne Kay is an accomplice.” Thomas turned to the Sunrise deputy. “Make sure you know who’s who.”

“I’ve read the descriptions of everyone.”

Thomas nodded. “Rosalie…” She wasn’t going to like this. “I need someone to stay here and—”

“Bite me, Hart,” she said. “I’ve got a gun I’m licensed to use, and like hell I’m going to stay here when you’ve got two civilians who can.”

“I’m not exactly a civilian,” Palmer said with a frown. Then sighed when that earned him quite a few sharp looks. “Fine, I’ll stay here and coordinate. Make sure any new officers know the players and descriptions, then send them out to plug holes.”

Thomas nodded, then looked around. A decent police presence. A lead. More officers on their way.

Vi wasn’t spending another night out there.

V I MANAGED TO hook the zip tie around her wrists on the doorknob. She carefully pulled down. She couldn’t position the weaker part of the plastic exactly where she wanted it, but there was no other option that she could find here in the dark.

So, she pulled. Then leaned forward so most of her bodyweight was pulling against the plastic. The bonds bit against her skin, but she was so scared and desperate, she barely even noticed the pain.

She heard a creak, like the wood of the door splintered, and she was about to scramble up so she didn’t break the damn knob off, but she heard a snap .

And her hands fell apart.

Apart. For a singular, shocking moment she just stood stock-still and breathed . Then slowly she lifted her hands up, moved her arms apart.

She’d done it.

She wanted to crumple to the ground and sob, but this was hardly a war won. This was one tiny battle and there were quite a few to go. She inhaled deeply, let it out and tried to decide what to do now.

Her ankles were still tied, and she didn’t know how to change that without something sharp enough to cut the plastic. There might be something that sharp in this pantry, but she’d already felt around on the floor and shelves and hadn’t found anything here in the dark.

She could shuffle a little with her ankles tied, but she could hardly attack or run.

But if someone was out there… She didn’t know where Dianne had brought her except out of town.

South out of town. Would dogs really just be running around without owners?

Didn’t that mean there had to be neighbors or something?

Or someone coming to find her. She sat with that feeling, the horrible, overwhelming tide of hope. But if she let it infiltrate, she’d just wait. Wait for help, wait on hope, and what if it wasn’t anybody?

She couldn’t hope. She had to fight.

She reached out, slid her hands along the wall in front of her until she found the doorknob again.

She tested it. It was locked, of course, but she could maybe fling herself at the door enough times to break it open based on the way the door had splintered when she’d used the knob, but that would make too much noise, draw too much attention.

Unless Eric was outside the cabin searching for people snooping around… Could she take that chance?

She pressed her ear against the door and listened. For a door to open, for footsteps on the porch stairs. For anything.

Just when she was about convinced that he’d left, because the house was just too still and silent, she heard the distinct sound of a shotgun being pumped.

She knew that sound, because he’d once done it a few times in front of her to scare her.

So he was still inside. She was stuck here until she heard him leave. He would leave, wouldn’t he? Or was he just going to sit around with a loaded gun and wait?

It didn’t matter. She couldn’t worry either way. She had to set herself up for every chance, every possibility of survival. She touched the doorknob, trying to discern what kind of lock held it closed.

She could detect the tiny hole in the middle of the knob, like it was one of those Thomas had in his house where you only had to stick the little key—which was just a straight piece of metal—into the hole and then get it to catch on the mechanism inside, turn and it would unlock.

She put everything out of her mind except moving around the pantry, painstakingly slowly with her little shuffle, running her hands over every shelf.

She felt cans, boxes, bags. Her fingers drifted over what were no doubt dead bugs, among other unpleasant things she wouldn’t let herself think about.

God only knew how long it took. It could have been minutes or hours—she had no sense of time in the dark. In her focus.

She inhaled sharply as a slice of pain went through her finger. Damn it. She’d given herself a splinter. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel a little sliver of wood in her finger. Of course that pain had nothing on what Eric could inflict, but it… It gave her an idea.

Could she find a splinter of wood small enough but strong enough to shove it into the keyhole of the door and undo the lock mechanism?

She carefully moved her fingers back over the wood shelf until she thought she was at the place she’d gotten a splinter. She felt around with her nails, trying to find a loose place in the wood that she could peel back and break off a chunk.

She pulled a piece off, shuffled over to the door, realized immediately it was too short and too flimsy to get the job done. So the next time she did it, she broke off multiple pieces, trying to make them thicker, sturdier, longer.

She didn’t let herself think beyond that. She ignored the splinters she was getting, the pain, the fatigue. She didn’t even listen for Eric. Nothing mattered right now except finding a way to unlock that door.

She was shaking by the time she got to a piece she thought might work. She was dizzy, even in the dark. No doubt because she hadn’t eaten or slept, and she’d been knocked around. She probably didn’t have much left in her if she didn’t get out of this soon.

She bit down on her lip, hard, to focus. She worked tediously to get the piece of wood splinter in the keyhole, to find the right place. It took multiple tries, nearly sobbing in frustration and giving up and breaking all the sticks into a bunch of tiny pieces.

But she thought of Magnolia, and her cousins, and the possibility that Thomas was out there even now trying to save her, and she gave it another try.

Then another.

And another. Until finally it felt like something gave inside the knob.

She was shaking again, and nothing seemed to stop it. She worked hard to give the knob a careful test, just to see if it would turn.

It turned completely. She didn’t push it open yet, though, and carefully let it go. She blew out a shaky breath, then moved back to the shelves. She grabbed the two heaviest cans she could find. Her shaking made them hard to hold, but if she could use them as weapons, she would.

She went back to the door, sucked in a steadying breath. She tucked one of the cans underneath her armpit, leaving one free to open the door. But before she could even reach out to feel for the knob, a gunshot exploded outside the door.

Far, far too close.