Flying in Shadows (The Black Creek Series, Book 2) (37 page)

Sure enough, the backlog of empty food shelves, gaps in volunteer servers and an employee
schedule that looked like a third-grader put it together were just what she needed
to make her feel normal again.

After spearheading a couple smoking dope in the back of the building, she took advantage
of the outdoor air and had a moment of alone time.

* * *

Rose, too, made efforts to change her routine, but animals simply didn't work that
way. They had routines, needed routines. She wasn't about to trade places with Grace
and put her in danger. She tried to work with someone around whenever she could, something
she rarely did.

Keeping an eye on her surroundings, she checked the smaller animal habitats from both
inside and out of the main building. An opossum mother and her babies were a more
recent addition. She had gotten tangled in a plastic six-pack ring, became infected
from the wounds and rejected her young. Rose checked on the interns as they syringe-fed
the babies while the antibiotics worked on mom.

The week that had passed didn't settle Rose, but it did allow her time to imagine
Miguel with new funds and possibly working on some prosperous illegal gambling deal
somewhere far away.

* * *

They decided to have a regular girl's night out, one with bridal magazines, mothers,
future mothers-in-law, sisters-in-law, and sisters. Rose waited with Brie for the
others while they mixed spicy cream cheese dip and arranged sun-dried tomato crackers.

"Did you know your mother and Dave plan to remarry?"

Rose paused and considered. "I guess I expected they would, sure."

"Did you know they plan to make a stop at the law and justice center and grab the
nearest person as a witness?"

Rose set down the box of crackers and looked at Brie. "That's awful."

"That's what I said. You know what I think? I think you only get married to your husband
for the second time just once in your life."

Rose turned that around in her head as the others arrived. Five women gathered around
a giant table in Brianna Reed's kitchen, talking about colors, dates, locations, and
of course flowers.

"So, you're thinking fuchsia and sky blue?"

Rose couldn't read her mother's expression with the question. "Dark pink and the color
of the sky, sure." Ugh.

"In the fall?"

Oh, Rose got it, now. "I just want to get married." She hated this stuff. Was no good
at it. "What colors do you think?" she asked less curtly.

Her mother leaned forward. "This is your day, honey."

"What colors?" Rose asked a little more forcefully.

Her mother and Brie held some kind of secret flower person meeting with their eyes.
"What do you think about russet orange and sun-dried yellow?"

"Deal."

"It will look lovely with your hair." Brie was looking at her, judging and deciding.
Rose could tell.

They flipped through pages of a magazine that could have been mistaken for a New York
City phonebook.

Jessica took her turn to confuse Rose. "What are you thinking regarding table decorations?
I liked using the flowers from the aisle guest seats for the vases in the centers
of the reception tables."

"Whoa." Rose stood, arms out in surrender. "You and you." She pointed to her mother
and Brie. "What do you think about being in charge of the flowers and ... flower stuff?"
Next, she turned to her sister and Hannah, who were uncharacteristically quiet. "What
do you two think about taking care of the chair thing and reception... ya know, looks?"

As if they'd planned this all along, Hannah and Jessica stood and gave each other
a high-five large enough to make someone think they were guys at a pro ball game.
As if that wasn't bad enough, her mother and Brie did the same.

* * *

Rose set a bucketful of water and three live fish on the trailer behind her four-wheeler.
She heard her assistant start up the second four-wheeler that carried the gear for
training the new interns. Although Gracie would see the fish no matter how far around
the aviary she chose to drive, she purposely took the long way around the enclosure.
She wanted Gracie to get a good, long, predatory look at her dinner.

Never once looking at the fish, the eagle followed her with both body and yellowing-eyes
all the way around the frame of her aviary. With a lifeless glare, the bird stared
her down. Perched on her artificial tree, she waited for her moment. Her posture was
clearly that of a challenge.

Stopping at the entrance, Rose turned to face her. "Listen, girl. We can do this the
hard way or the easy. Up to you. You're not getting one bite if you come at me." Rose
couldn't hold back her smile.

Grabbing hold of the five-gallon bucket, she set her hand on the door and gave Gracie
her best threatening posture. They both knew it was fake. Gracie loved the game...
and the fishing. Rose loved the eagle. Using her free hand to unlock the door, she
shook her head at the sudden, potent, acidic smell. She took in a shocked breath of
air, felt the cloth that covered her mouth and turned. Gracie shrieked behind her.
In the seconds before Rose collapsed, she looked into the all-too-familiar eyes that
matched her own.

* * *

"That's too many switches for one box."

Andy tried to explain to Duncan that more than three switches on an electrical plate
and even the owners wouldn't remember which went to what. Duncan didn't argue. They
arranged and rearranged electrical boxes, leads and tubes that would carry all the
wire to the mother box. He convinced Duncan to use an extra dummy tube that traveled
up all three stories of the home as a place to run wire for any future changes in
heart after the drywallers had finished. Looking around at the work accomplished,
Andy warmed at the sight of his cousins joining in the work.

Andy had to admit Hannah had some damn good ideas about hiding extra outlets under
cabinets, around the kitchen and along the top of the fireplace mantel. Jonathon,
of course, knew his way around a work site; he'd spent plenty of summers working for
Andy. James was going to be more of a suit and tie kind of guy but didn't wince at
working with his hands. Both twins helped the roofers scatter boxes of shake shingles
over the roof.

* * *

Miguel had parked the four-wheeler in the back of the cottage. He should have had
at least another hour before the girl woke up if he followed directions good enough.
He had taken his time checking to make sure the ride was out of sight from the road,
all the shades were pulled, and the windows and doors were locked. It didn't matter.
She wasn't going anywhere.

He pulled up a wooden chair from the rental cabin's kitchen table, spun it around
and sat in it backward as he faced her. Lifting her lifeless head by the chin, he
pulled open one of her eyelids. He couldn't tell with her face all limp like that.
The timing was right, though. How could Mandy have hidden this from him all this time?
Fuck.

Slapping Rose a few times firmly on the face, he tried to rouse her. He'd been waiting
for this, anxious. Sighing deeply, he let her chin drop back on her neck, stood up
and walked to pour himself a shot of gin.

* * *

Rose sat with her hands tied behind her back and then to the back of a chair. She
was awake, could hear a voice, but wasn't lucid enough to piece everything together.
Sheer instinct told her to play dead, or in this case, unconscious. She had vague
memories of being dragged through dirt, her feet bobbing over a threshold and her
head hitting a doorjamb. The mountain of a headache told her the memories were real.

She smelled musty wood and floor cleaner mixed with the smell of cigarette smoke.
Her nose burned like she'd been breathing in lacquer, but her mouth wouldn't open.
It felt like it was sealed shut with cotton. The voice was unfamiliar and the man
wasn't speaking English. Where was Grace when she needed a translator?

At that moment, her mind cleared. Grace. She was supposed to meet Grace behind the
action center to help her with Gracie and the new interns. She could feel the duct
tape covering her mouth. The rag, the man, her father—it all came together and made
her dizzy with bubbling fear.

She worked to keep her breathing slow and kept her head down. How long had she been
like this? Surely they knew she was missing by now. Her neck ached enough for her
to think she had been in that position for a significant amount of time.

* * *

"When do you go back? The folks like it when you stick around." Andy sat on the dirt
with his forearms resting on his lifted knees. Through the opening to the window for
Duncan's front room, he could see his cousins in a heated debate. He grinned.

Duncan leaned against a tree, sipping from a bottle of water. "Soon. I've nearly finished
the first portrait. Not bad, if I say so myself."

"You just did. At least stay for some grilling with Hannah and the twins. They leave
for college in a couple weeks," Andy said.

Andy's cell phone rang. He stood up to dig it out of his pocket. Not recognizing the
number, he almost didn't answer, but something sent a chill running down his back.

* * *

Rose waited until she heard him moving around in the room next to her. She opened
her eyes slightly, trying to judge her surroundings. Miguel must have been in the
kitchen. She opened her eyes completely and saw she was in a small cabin. Recognizing
it as one of the models a few miles from the center, her mind began swimming through
scenarios. They were a long way away from people.

She was alone. She was alone and drugged and tied to a chair with the man who raped
her mother. Bile rose to her throat. Her fear turned to an ice that gripped her arms
and legs. How did they get here? Who would know?

Hopelessly, she tried to maneuver her secured hands to one side of her or the other.
She could move them about a foot before the rope caught. Shifting her hip, she worked
to get to her pocket. Her phone was missing, but her father must have stopped searching
after he found it because her Swiss Army knife was jabbing her hip. She could just
get her thumb inside and reach the compact knife.

Miguel was ranting. She could hear him pacing. Every so often, he slammed down a bottle.
She had worked the knife to the edge of her pocket when the sound changed to soft,
approaching footsteps.

* * *

"Andy Reed," he answered his phone with brows creased.

"Oh, Andy. Son of a bitch, get over here. I called 911. I called and they're com—"

"Slow down. Is this Grace?" Her accent apparently accentuated when she was excited.
Andy was already slinging his leg over the seat of Duncan's Suzuki as his brother
climbed on behind him.

"Yes. Yes, I'm sorry." She took a short breath "Please come. To the center. It's Rose.
She's missing."

Andy stopped before turning the key to the ignition. "What do you mean, 'missing'?"

"She would never leave the door open to Gracie's enclosure. Her phone. It was in the
grass."

Andy wasn't sure what else Grace said. He hung up and flipped the bike out of neutral.
The door left open was enough for him. He spun out of the drive with the gears ringing
at a high pitch as he raced down the gravel drive to the highway with Duncan hanging
on in back.

* * *

Dave drove in focused silence with the hidden lights blazing from his head, tail and
back window brake lights. Nick sat in the passenger seat as if he hadn't just taken
the last corner nearly on two wheels. As Rose's dad, he called Amanda to let her know.
As detective, he called for backup.

Nick turned and yelled over the noise of the engine and the siren. "Get the dog."

He didn't let off the gas. "What?" he asked in frustrated disgust.

"The dog. Get the dog. It knows his scent. It hates him. Do you remember? If he's
taken her somewhere, the dog might be able to follow."

"Damn it." He darted his eyes as he considered. He sure as hell hoped she was right.
He checked the back mirror, then did a screeching u-turn.

Chapter 31