Secrets in the Shadows (39 page)

She knew that if she got in the vehicle with Mary Margaret, she probably wouldn’t survive the night. She thought about the conversation she’d had earlier with Charlie. He’d mentioned coming by later, but she had declined his offer. She wished fervently that she had not, but at the same time, she knew that if he had been there, he could easily have been another target. Walking as slowly as she could, she felt the tip of the gun prodding her back.

“Hurry it up. You think if you go slow, someone’s gonna come riding to your rescue? You’d better think again,” she said, laughing bitterly. “Nobody cares about a whore like you. The only thing you’re good for is spreading your legs for some man, and there’s a dozen more just like you, waiting to take your place. Ain’t nobody gonna be worried about you until it’s too late.”

As Lauren listened to her rant, she felt a cold, deadly calm wash over her body. Taking a chance, she turned her head and looked at her captor.

“What are you planning, Mary Margaret? What are you going to do with me?”

“I’m going to take you back to where you ruined my life and give you what you deserve.”

They had reached Lauren’s car. Saying a prayer in her head, she took a deep breath and twisted around, using her bound hands as a club. Screaming, she knocked the gun against the car and shoved as hard as she could.

The older woman cried out, losing her balance and falling against the side of the car. She dropped the gun, and Lauren managed to kick it under the vehicle. She pushed past Mary Margaret, shoving her again to keep her off balance, and ran into the street, screaming the whole way. Porch lights were coming on all around her, but she didn’t stop running. A vehicle was coming down the street, and Lauren ran toward it, hoping the driver would see her in time to stop.

She could hear Mary Margaret yelling behind her, and glanced back to see where the woman was. A large rock in her hands, she was running toward Lauren, cursing and screaming the whole way. Turning back toward the oncoming vehicle, she saw that the driver had slowed down. She almost collapsed with relief when she saw that it was Charlie’s truck. Moving to the side of the road, she watched as he maneuvered the truck so that it was between her and Mary Margaret. Braking with a screech, he jumped out of the truck, pistol drawn, the barrel pointed down at the ground.

“Oh, God. Charlie.” She ran into his arms. “Thank God.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. She has a gun. I kicked it away, but she might have found it.”

Mary Margaret had stopped in the middle of the street when he pulled up. Now, as Charlie moved Lauren aside and started around the front of the truck, she hurled the rock in his direction and took off running back toward Lauren’s house.

He started after the angry woman. “Stay here.”

“Charlie, don’t! Please, don’t leave me.” Lauren ran after him, and when he saw that, he stopped, cursing. “Don’t be a hero. Please. Let her go. She’s not worth dying over.”

“Damn it, I can’t just stand here while she gets away. Don’t ask me to do that.” He grasped her shoulders and moved her back around the truck. Pulling a knife out of his pocket, he cut the tape away from her wrists. Lauren drew in a sharp breath as the tape pulled at her skin. “Now stay here.”

Before he could run after Mary Margaret, however, the sound of sirens reached their ears, and a sheriff’s department cruiser rounded the curve. It stopped behind Charlie’s truck, and Jason Hudson emerged.

“Lauren? What’s going on here?” he asked, moving cautiously.

“Jason, it’s Troy Vernon’s mother, Mary Margaret. She tried to kidnap me.”

He hurried over to them. “Where is she?”

“She ran back toward Lauren’s house,” Charlie told him. “Lauren said she had a gun earlier.”

Jason cursed and radioed for backup. “And Dispatch, can you get a K-9 unit paged out here? I think we’re going to need them.”

“Affirmative, unit sixteen. Backup is one minute out.”

“This subdivision backs up to the woods, and this street is the only way out. I want the two of you to get out of here. Go to your parents’ house, Lauren, and we’ll get someone over there ASAP to take your statement. Are you armed?” he asked Charlie.

“I am.”

“Good. Get out of here, and stay at your folks’ place until we tell you otherwise.”

“Deputy, my house is next door to theirs. I can keep them safer there.”

“Fine. Just get out of here.”

Charlie helped Lauren into the truck, and as he followed, Jason rushed back to move his cruiser out of the way. As they left, he was pulling forward slowly, using his spotlight to look in between houses and into darkened yards. They passed the second sheriff’s car as Charlie turned onto the street where her parents lived.

“God, please keep them safe,” Lauren prayed. “Do you think they’ll find her?”

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

Within a couple of minutes, they were pulling into Charlie’s driveway. He hit the garage door opener. “Okay, listen. We’re going in my house, and I’ll call your parents to stay inside… Shit.” Her parents were hurrying across the yard, apparently having seen him come back.

“Charlie? You found her? Thank God.” Molly started around the truck toward Lauren but he stopped her with a sharp word.

“We need to get inside, and I’ll explain everything. Go on in the garage.” Thankfully, they didn’t argue, and he drove the truck inside. Once they were all in, he put the door down and he and Lauren got out of the truck.

“What the hell is going on?” Winston asked as he and Molly went to Lauren.

Molly gasped when she saw her daughter. “Oh, my God, you’re hurt!”

In the well-lit garage, Charlie could see the abrasions and bruises on Lauren’s face and legs. “Let’s get you in the house.” He led them into the kitchen, turning on lights as he went. “Have a seat at the table. Win, you know how to use a gun, right?”

Lauren’s father scowled. “Of course. Why?”

Charlie handed him the pistol he carried, then closed the shades on the windows over the sink. “Because Mary Margaret attacked Lauren, and she’s on the loose. They’re looking for her now.” Both parents let out shocked gasps.

Winston looked from Charlie to Lauren and back again. “She what?”

“I’m going to get the first aid kit and another gun. Win, make sure the doors and windows down here are locked. I’ll be right back.” As he took the stairs two at a time, he could hear Lauren answering her parents’ questions. Making a quick circuit through the rooms on the second floor to make sure all the openings were locked, he grabbed the pistol from his bedside table and tucked it into the empty holster at the small of his back. After a trip into the bathroom for the first aid kit, he climbed back downstairs. The adrenaline rush was starting to wear off.

Lauren sat at the table with Molly, her face pale as she tried to convince her mother she was okay. “I promise you, she didn’t hurt me. I’m just banged up a little.”

As he set the kit down on the table, Charlie apologized. “I didn’t mean to be so short and bark out orders. I just needed to get everyone inside and safe. Lauren—what the hell? You’re bleeding!” He dropped to his knees behind her chair and carefully raised the hem of her shirt. She had two vicious puncture wounds just under her bra, and they started to seep a little from where he’d pulled the shirt away. Gently probing the skin around them, he stopped when she hissed.

“She tasered me, and the probes came out during the struggle. I’m okay.”

Charlie couldn’t handle it. Using a hand to brace himself on the table, he rested his head against his arm, his composure cracking. When Winston moved behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, he shook his head. “It was too close. Damn it!”

“Let’s take a walk, son. Come on. Let Molly clean her up.”

He let Winston help him to his feet. Without looking at the women, he fled the kitchen and moved into the dark living room. A tight band had wrapped itself around his chest, and he nearly doubled over with the pain. A car drove down the street outside, and he walked to the large window to look out, grateful for the privacy the darkness afforded him.

Winston moved to stand next to him. “She’s okay, Charlie. Thanks to you, she’s okay. Try to focus on that.”

The look he shot the older man felt incredulous and not a little wild. “How can I focus on that? If things had been just a little different tonight, she’d be gone.”

With a sigh, Winston put his arm around Charlie’s shoulders. “I know. And I’m sure we’ll have nightmares. But she’s safe now. Ava wasn’t with her. You’re safe. We have a lot more to be thankful for tonight than we do to regret.”

They stood like that for a few minutes, until Molly interrupted with a soft cough. “Charlie, can we borrow a t-shirt and a pair of shorts or sweatpants?”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t meet her eyes as he left the living room. Upstairs, pulling the clothes together, he let himself sag against the dresser for a minute. Seeing Lauren running toward him tonight, hands bound, and Mary Margaret coming behind her, he’d literally felt his heart stop. In that instant, he’d realized just how much Lauren meant to him. The thought that he could lose her, that she could be killed, was devastating. Win was right—he would definitely be having nightmares about that for years to come.

The depth of his feelings shook him, leaving him raw. He felt exposed, angry, and he had to fight hard to regain control of his emotions. It was going to be a long night, and he knew he had to pull himself together before going back downstairs.

~
* ~

Down in the kitchen, Lauren struggled with her own emotions. She’d given up on convincing her mother that she was okay—clearly, she wasn’t. The reality of how close she’d come to dying was starting to sink in, and she had to fight hard to hold back tears.

“Thank God David called when he did,” Molly said. She brushed the hair back off Lauren’s face and carefully wiped away some of the dirt with a wet cloth. “When he couldn’t get hold of you on any of your numbers, he called us and sounded the alert. You should probably call him, by the way, let him know you’re okay.”

Lauren nodded. “Do you have a phone? Mine is… somewhere.”

Charlie came in and placed the clothes on the table. “Here’s a shirt and some jogging shorts. They should work.”

“Honey, can we borrow your phone to call David?” Molly asked. “He’s probably frantic, wondering what’s happened to all of us.”

“Sure. It’s right there on the counter. I’ll, uh, go back to the living room with Win and keep watch while you call. If you need anything from the fridge, help yourselves.”

Lauren stood and faced him, her hands smoothing down her dirty shirt. “Where’s the restroom?” When he wouldn’t meet her gaze, she felt a sharp pang of regret.

“It’s down the hall. I’ll show you. If you’re going to change clothes, we probably should bag up the ones you’re wearing for evidence.” He went to the pantry next to the door and pulled out a large zippered storage bag, which he handed to her.

Grabbing the clothes, she followed him down the hall. He flipped the light on and turned to leave, but Lauren stopped him.

“Are you angry with me? Mad because I stopped you from going after her?”

“No. God, no. I just—Lauren, do you have any idea what it felt like for me, seeing you running for your life? Do you have any idea what that did to me?” She reached up to touch his face but he stepped back.

“You can’t touch me right now. If you do, I’ll lose it. Go ahead and get changed. You can put the old clothes in that bag.” With that, he fled back down the hall.

Lauren slumped against the door. For someone who wasn’t angry, he certainly was doing a damned good job of acting like he was.

It was nearly two in the morning by the time the ordeal was over. Jason had come by just before one o’clock to let them know Mary Margaret was in custody. The deputy gratefully accepted the coffee Charlie offered him as he sat with them at the kitchen table.

“We found her hiding in a garden shed two streets over. She screamed like a banshee when the dogs found her, but she didn’t fight too much.”

“So what happens now?” Lauren asked. “What about my house?”

“We locked it up. You told Ethan that she’d only been in the entrance way, right?” Ethan had stopped by earlier and taken their statements.

“Yes.”

“Then you can go back whenever you feel like it. We took all the pictures we needed, did fingerprinting. That left a little bit of a mess. Sorry.”

She waved his apology away. “Don’t. You could fingerprint the whole house, and I wouldn’t care, as long as she’s safely locked away.”

“Well, she is that.” Finishing the coffee, he stood. “Folks, I’m heading out. I’m glad this turned out the way it did. I don’t know if we could have gotten there in time or not.”