CAPTURED INNOCENCE (19 page)

             
On the far wall was another door, and he stepped eagerly toward it. He tested the handle. It was unlocked. He pushed it open and grinned. Propped in one corner was a shovel, which he took. He scanned the metal shelves. His gaze lit on a group of flashlights. After grabbing the nearest one, he pulled the door closed.

             
Opting to walk rather than risk the sound of the car’s engine waking anyone, he headed out a back door and cut across the lawn. Halfway across the manicured grounds the sprinklers came on, soaking his shoes. He groaned and sprinted into the trees that bordered the property.

             
Thick foliage blocked the moon, and he risked turning on the flashlight. Dogs barked as he raced behind properties. Lights flicked on. Voices called for dogs to be quiet. Conley squatted behind a bush and shivered in the evening’s chill. Once the night was again dark and quiet, he rose to his feet and set off.

             
He breathed a prayer of thanks when he reached Blake’s property and discovered it vacant. The burned house loomed before him like a mountain of freshly uncovered dinosaur bones. The acrid smell of smoke hung thick over the area and stung his nostrils.

             
He kicked at the fallen timbers and moved the flashlight beam from side to side. There! The tell-tale puddle shaped stain of an accelerant. Conley raised the flashlight, illuminating the taller pillars. Large, high-relief blisters covered several of the wooden beams, giving them an alligator skin appearance. The fire had been deliberately set, just as Conley suspected. But by whom? Was it Blake or someone else?

             
Using the shovel, Conley pushed aside several of the smaller, still smoking beams. He did this sporadically across the foundation, searching the concrete slab. After an hour, he quit and leaned against one of the few remaining pillars. His shirt stuck to his skin with sweat and his breathing was heavy. If Blake had a hiding place for abducted children, it wasn’t below this house.

             
“Hey, you!” A floodlight brightened the area, blinding him, and Conley threw up an arm to shade his face.

             
“What are you doing there?” A large, portly man climbed down from the driver’s seat of a utility van. He brandished a tire iron in one hand.

             
Conley clicked off his own flashlight and swung the shovel to his shoulder. With a leap, he cleared the foundation and sprinted back into the trees.

###

              A hand caressed her cheek, waking her. Jo smiled and stretched. “Conley.” She placed her hand over his.

             
He sighed and grasped her hand, squeezing and grinding the fine bones together until she squeaked.

             
Jo reached up and turned on the light. Blake sat on the edge of the bed. No light shone in his eyes. They were as cold and hard as the sapphire ring he’d once given her. One final, painful squeeze and he released her.

             
“Where’s Conley?” Jo drew the blankets up under her chin.

             
“Don’t hide, dear. I’ve seen it all before.” He whipped the covers from her. “I have no idea where your dear Conley is. I had intended to surprise you both, but, alas, you’re alone.”

             
“Where’s Alex?” Jo scanned the room. She searched for a weapon of some kind.

             
“Safe.” He trailed a finger down the satin covering her leg. He sighed again and rose to pace the room. He fingered the few items on her dresser as he muttered to himself. She strained to make out his words and willed her heart to quiet.

             
“All I want is for her to love me. Why can’t she? If she loved me, I wouldn’t have to do this.” He whirled to face her. “Do you realize that? If you loved me, you could prevent all this.”

             
“Prevent what?” Despite her efforts not to, her voice trembled.

             
“This!” he roared and whipped his arm across the top of the dresser, scattering her toiletries.

             
Jo sat up and scooted back against the headboard. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

Blake continued to pace, alternating between yells and mutters.  Jo’s heart pounded hard enough to rock her body, sending her back and forth on waves of apprehension. A sob caught in her throat
, and she choked it back.

             
Whirling to face her, Blake jumped to the bed beside her. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he yanked her face close to his. “Are you crying? Good. I want you to shed tears for me.”

             
“You’re hurting me.” Tears sprang to her eyes as he tugged again. He’d eaten a mint recently. Its peppermint smell drifted across her face as he breathed.

             
“As you’ve hurt me?” He released his hold on her hair and shoved her away from him. Her skull hit the headboard with a resounding thud.

             
Jo lifted a shaking hand to the back of her head. “Where’s my son?” she asked softly.

             
“You sound like a broken record. Where’s Alex? Where’s Alex?” Blake laughed, braying. The sound rang inside Jo’s aching head. “He’s not here. I’ve already answered that question.” His voice rose. “Stop asking it.”

             
“Why am I so important to you? There are plenty of women who would be willing to be your wife.” She reached for the blankets. His eyes narrowed when she did, and she rewrapped her arms around her knees, trying to still her shivering.

             
The blow to the side of her head knocked her sideways. Her teeth clicked together, and she bit her tongue. She rolled, stopping only when she hit the floor. Her breath left her lungs in a whoosh, and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. Her tongue throbbed and she struggled to breathe.

             
“I want you! You. You’re mine! I
chose
you.” Blake grabbed her by the upper arm. His fingers dug into the tender flesh, and he yanked her to her feet. “Once your
precious
Conley is out of the picture, you’ll realize you belong to me.”

             
Her eyes focused on the drop of spittle dangling from his bottom lip. It quavered as he spoke. She swallowed the bile of her fear as her heart cried out for Conley.

             
Blake lowered his head. His mouth crushed hers. His teeth ground against her lips, adding more pain to her mouth. Jo went limp. Visions flashed through her mind. Other men, some young, some old, spun like the reel of an old movie. Blake was there, as a young man, before their marriage. His image swam and was lost among the endless faces of the others.

             
With a shriek, she planted the palms of her hands on his chest and shoved him back. “You were there. I remember.” She wiped his kiss viciously from her lips. “You
did
choose me. I was lined up like a doll on display, and you bought me.” She grabbed the lamp from beside the bed and hurled it at his head.

             
He ducked and dove for her and taking her to the floor. “You should feel honored.” He grabbed at her gown, ripping the delicate fabric.

             
Kicking and screaming, she doubled her fist and swung, connecting with his chin. The impact sent shock waves up her arm. He swore and took control of her flailing hands, pinning them above her head.

             
“Let…go…of…me. You will not use me again. Ever.” The fury of her struggle left her breathless. Her chest heaved. “I will not let fear rule me ever again. And if you hurt my son, I will kill you.”

Blake lowered his face to hers again. She sunk her teeth into his bottom lip.

              He roared and leaned back, raising his fist. His handsome features twisted, and his eyes shone with a murderous light as he whispered, “If I can’t have you, neither will he.”

             
“Get off her.” Conley tossed the smaller man across the room. Blake crashed into the wall. He spared a quick glance at Jo before lifting the fallen man by the shirt front.

             
Conley’s face reddened. His jaws clenched. Rearing back, he slammed Blake to the wall again.

             
Blake’s head dented the plaster, raining flecks of white onto his dark head. He laughed. “I came for you big guy. I came to kill you.”

             
“What’s stopping you?” Conley released him. “I’m here.” He stepped back. His muscles flexed and quivered beneath his tee shirt.

             
His head snapped back with the first of Blake’s punches. Blood smeared across his lip, and he grinned. “That all you got? You didn’t even knock me off my feet.”

             
Blake roared and charged.

             
Conley’s leg shot out, tripping him and landing him on his back. As Blake lay there, Conley stepped over him. He planted a booted foot on the man’s wounded thigh. “How does it feel having someone bigger than you pin you to the ground like a bug? I’d like to squash you.” He increased pressure and Blake gasped.

             
“No, Conley.” Jo wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and stood beside him. “He isn’t worth it. You know how the people in this town are. He’ll twist the story, and you’ll go to jail. Prestige loves Blake. His family used to own the land this town sits on.”

             
For a moment, Conley stared at her then lifted his foot. Blake scurried to his feet.

             
“She’s used goods.” He set his chin, lifting it slightly to look into Conley’s face. “Trained in
every
way to please me. To know what
I
want.” He jumped back as Conley jerked toward him. “Let me know how you enjoy my cast off.” Blake straightened his shirt and smoothed his mussed hair. He cast a thin smile at Jo, and left.

             
Her legs shook and gave way beneath her. Jo collapsed on the edge of the bed. “He bought me, Conley.” She stared at her bare feet. “Like a piece of property he went out and purchased. I remember. I wasn’t alone. There were others. Boys and girls. I was young. Maybe eight or ten. Maybe even younger. My parents were there, only they weren’t my parents then…I don’t think. I don’t know.” She raised a tear-stained face to his. “Blake pointed at me and said ‘I want this one.’ Who am I, Conley?”

             
He sat next to her and gathered her in his arms. “I don’t know. But there’s a lot going on here, Jo. The pieces are beginning to fall together, but they’re still pieces.”

             
“Where were you?” she sniffed.

             
“Collecting some of those pieces.” He rubbed her back. “The fire at Blake’s was deliberately set. I found traces of accelerant.”

             
“Why would Blake burn down his own house?”

             
“I don’t know that he did. Maybe he’s covering up. Maybe he’s made someone mad at him.”

             
Jo shivered. “Where are my…Harold and Sylvia?” She couldn’t think of them as her parents anymore.

             
Conley shrugged. “I haven’t seen them.” He placed his fingers under her chin and tilted her face to his. “Are you all right?”

             
She nodded. “I want to leave here. We’ll stay in a hotel until we get Alex back.”

             
“Good idea.” He rose from the bed and held out his hand. “But once your parents show up, I’ve got a few questions for Sylvia Woodward.”

             
“Why her?” Jo stepped into the closet to change and gather their things.

             
“Harold’s tougher.”

             
“Really?” She pocked her head around the corner. “He’s always seemed like such a pushover.”

             
“Tough as nails.”

             
Jo withdrew into the closet and leaned against the wall. It was difficult to picture Harold as tough. Throughout her childhood, Sylvia seemed to run the house. Was Jo missing something? She wracked her brain, sorting through facts and memories, trying to dig up something to support Conley’s statement.  Her head ached from the banging against the headboard. Her thoughts made no sense.

The knowledge of the two people she’d grown up thinking were her parents, and now
knowing they weren’t, at least biologically, sent her heart plummeting. With a heavy sigh she dropped the ripped gown on the floor and wondered for the thousandth time where God was.

              Jo dropped her suitcase on yet another hotel bed and flopped down beside it.

“This isn’t having the effect I thought it would.”

              “What?” Conley placed his own suitcase in the closet.

             
“I thought Blake would give me back my son if he knew I was married.”