Gem Stone (20 page)

"We can't carry him, but if we can get out, we can get him help."

At her sound of disagreement, Reid shot her a look of disbelief. "I'm not staying here just because he's unconscious. That's not going to help any of us." A moment later, his rope dropped to the floor and with a flourish he set to work on the ropes around his ankles.

Gem struggled with her ropes. "Too bad Stephen isn't here to help. He's resourceful."

"Maybe, but better for him that he's safe. Who knows where the hell we are or what we're still going to face."

Gemma was a little slower. But not by much. Her own feet however, were proving to be much more difficult. "Damn it. I can't get these undone."

"Hang on." Reid looked up briefly and went right back to work. "I'm almost there."

Just then Mark groaned.

Gemma moved faster. She didn't want anyone hearing them and coming to investigate. Her panic was making her fingers all thumbs. "Shit, this is taking forever."

"Here, let me." Reid brushed her hands aside and quickly loosened her bonds. She was free.

Rubbing her chaffed ankles, she smiled her thanks and went to work on Mark's bonds while Reid studied the area outside the window.

A moment later, Gemma pumped her fist in the air. "His hands are free. Help me with his feet. And I think he's starting to come around."

Reid raced over and worked on the knotted ropes while she spoke quietly but firmly to Mark, explaining where they were and what happened. By the time she'd finished, his eyes were open and lethally hard.

"You sure?" he whispered.

He looked like some romantic hero, ready to avenge the world's wrongs. She shivered her approval. Her head low to his, she nodded, and because it seemed so natural to do so, she dropped a kiss on his lips.

"Let's go." She gave him a hand up then the three headed to the window. "I can only presume that we're running from the same assholes again. But I don't want to be here to find out for sure."

"Try to stay together if we can. We have nothing but the clothes we went to bed in. No phones, wallets, nothing."

Temper played across Reid's face. "Buggers. They better not have my phone. I had it programmed just the way I want it."

"I doubt they took the time to grab it. Let's go." Mark took a deep breath of fresh air, then lifted himself up and jumped out the window. A heavy thud made Gem stare nervously at the closed door. "You'd think they'd have checked up on us by now."

"Go. Hurry. I'm right behind you." Reid was sounding really nervous. And no wonder.

Gemma didn't like the height but given the choice of staying here or jumping for freedom, she jumped. Landed and rolled. It was all she could do to stop herself from crying out in pain. Damn her back hurt. Still, she knew it could have been so much worse. Thank heavens for street jumping, although that had been years ago.

Reid landed cleanly beside her. "Let's go. Left. Now."

They raced around the corner of the house and came up against a six-foot fence. Gemma hit it at a full run and scrambled over the top. The boys were right behind her. On the sidewalk, she stretched out into her full stride and turned right, careful to stay in plain view. She tossed one quick glance behind, enough to see that there was no one in the front of the house and that the boys were still behind her.

At the end of the block, they kept going right through the intersection, walking as if they belonged. A street light further down indicated a bigger intersection ahead.

So far, there was only silence behind them. As if this were a normal day in a small community. The thing was, she didn't recognize the place. Or the countryside around them.

They waited at the intersection for the light to turn green.

Gemma bent over, grateful for the short reprieve to catch her breath. Not that they'd been walking that fast, but panic had stopped her from finding a comfortable pace.

"Which way?" she asked when she had slowed her breathing.

"To town. More people, stores, a phone." Mark pointed to more street lights up ahead.

Reid, the ever practical, asked, "How are we going to call if we don't have any money?"

"Let's find out what town we're in first. We might be able to walk home."

Gemma frowned. She hadn't considered that they might have been moved to another town, but with a whole night gone, they could be anywhere. The light changed and they padded across in their bare feet.

Staying to the bigger streets, they wove their way around until they finally came to a small strip mall.

"You guys do realize we're in our PJs, right?"

Mark grimaced. "Not me. Boxers. I hadn't expected to have to make any mad dash in my underwear."

Reid pointed out the first storefront in the mall. "There's a laundromat. We can slip in there and see if there's anything that might fit. We might not even have to steal anything if there's a lost and found pile."

The Lazy Suds Laundromat was small, with a couple dozen machines hard at work. The other machines sat idle. A few people sat reading books and one woman folded laundry. She didn't even looking up when they walked in. Reid headed to the back and returned within minutes with a hoodie and a pair of flip-flops. "Here," he said, handing them over. "These should fit someone."

The flip-flops fit Mark. The hoodie was a bit small but wearable. He still needed something to cover the snug cotton boxers. Reid waited a few minutes then went back again for another look. He gave a casual glance to the stack of folded laundry beside the woman and then at another machine with a full hamper sitting on top. Coming back again, with empty hands, he told the other two to go outside, he'd wait for the washing machine to finish, then join them.

Understanding he was establishing a cover, the two walked out and around the side of the building. They wouldn't be able to go much further, dressed as they were, without causing a lot of attention. They needed to find something fast. The town was waking up quickly and they were starting to receive odd looks.

There was a dumpster beside them. Mark opened the lid and Gemma looked inside. There was some clothing, looked like it had been tossed from someone's laundry. A pair of jeans that looked miles too big for Mark but she hauled them out anyway.

He stepped into them and grinned. "My old man would have fit these perfectly. Should've brought one of the ropes they tied us up with so I could belt these."

"At least you're covered up, and are fairly normal looking. A bit of a homeless-looking thing going on, but you're decent. Maybe we can find something to use as a belt or tie." She glanced down at her camisole and pajamas. "Girls wear bottoms like this all the time, but a shirt would be helpful." She lifted one bare foot and grimaced at the blackened sole. "And shoes."

"You're wish is my command."

Reid stood in front of them – a long t-shirt covering his scrawny frame. It went down to the fly front of his pajama bottoms. He smiled at her and held out a pair of ballet-slipper looking things. Gem's eyes lit up.

"They're stretchy and just might fit." She slipped them on and smirked. "What a fashionable trio we are." She studied the two guys. "Yep, you'll do. Except what about your feet, Reid?"

"I don't know. Anything in there?" He tilted his head to the dumpster.

"That's where I got his jeans. Let's see."

Gem frowned. The second trip in wasn't the most pleasant, but being beside a laundromat meant the dumpster was a convenience for people who decided that some items weren't worth paying good money to clean. They found a couple of other items that they hung onto in case the weather turned. Finally they pulled out a worn out pair of runners and several odd socks. The shoes fit Mark so the flip-flops went to Reid.

"Now, we're good to go."

They turned their attention to finding a phone. "The women inside has a phone. I hate to steal it from her though."

"What about asking her?"

"That would be Gem then. She'd talk more openly to her if approached alone.

Gem tossed that one back and forth. "True. Okay, let me go see what I can find out."

She approached the woman a couple of minutes later and first asked if there was a washroom around.

"There's one at the library on the other side of the mall."

"Oh that's great. I didn't even see one when we drove in. I'm not even sure exactly what town we're in, we seem to have gotten off the beaten path." Gem smiled nicely and slouched slightly, remaining far enough away so the woman didn't feel threatened.

"You're in Dayport."

Gemma blinked. "Really?"
Where the hell was that?
So much for borrowing the phone. No one wanted long distance charges. "Maybe I'll wander down to the library then and get some more information about this place. How big is the town, just roughly?"

"Oh, maybe twenty, twenty-five thousand people. A lot of people live here but work in Portland as it's just an hour's drive away."

Gemma smiled brightly, while inside her stomach was sinking with fear.
Portland?
As in Portland, Oregon? She didn't dare ask that part, so walked out to share what she'd learned with the guys.

"That's actually good news."

"Yeah, we're only hours from home. It could be much worse," Reid pointed out.

"So we need a phone where we can make a collect call. That means the library." Gemma led the way. That would also be the best place to get some information.

They entered the library through double glass doors and the cool air that greeted them was refreshing.

The librarian smiled sweetly at them. "Can I help you?"

Gemma stepped up again. "We're lost. Do you have a map here showing where exactly we are?" They'd all read: Dayport Library, on the door. It still meant nothing to them.

"Also is there any chance there's a pay phone around here? Or a phone where we could make a collect call to our parents?"

"Oh, now I don't know that there is. I hated that the town pulled all those phones out. It's wrong to assume that everyone has a cell phone in this day and age." She pondered the situation for a moment. "You're sure it's a collect call you want to make?"

"Yes, you can dial it yourself, if you'd like. I really need to let my family know where I am." Gemma tried the whole big-eyed thing she'd watched Misty do so often.

The librarian melted, her expression softening. "What's the number?"

Gemma rattled it off and the librarian told the operator. When she was sure the phone was ringing, she handed it over to Gem. Gem listened anxiously with the boys crowded around her.

"Hello?"

"Doris? Doris is that you?"

The operator cut in doing her spiel, telling Doris that the call was from Gemma, Mark and Reid. In the background, they could hear Doris screaming for John.

Finally they got through. The librarian admonished them about raised voices, so they kept their voices down after that and walked a bit away to get some privacy.

Quickly, Gem explained to John and Doris where they were and what had happened. "We don't know any more than that. We just woke up and booted it. Now we're calling from the Dayport Library, supposedly an hour out of Portland. Can you come and get us?"

The three heads crowded together to hear John's answer.

"That I can, but I'm gonna need a few hours. You should have gone to the police."

"First we'd have to find them, and second how do we know they aren't in cahoots with these guys?"

John's frustrated growl came through the lines. "I'm on my way but I'm gonna stop by Sheriff Jerome's office and have him contact the law in Dayport. Someone there will come and keep you safe."

John rang off to deal with Doris's high-pitched happy squeal. Gem grinned at the others. She replaced the phone in the cradle. She smiled thanks at the librarian as she returned the phone and turned to the others. "Let's find a place to sit."

"He's right. We probably should have contacted the police."

That started an argument that lasted for a good twenty minutes. Thankfully, Gem wasn't hungry, but by the end of it she'd kill for a coffee. At least they were warm and dry and safe – for the moment. Even so, she constantly looked around nervously. She couldn't help it.

"Excuse me."

The three froze. Gem immediately bolted for the nearest bookshelf, while Reid and Mark stood up and took on an aggressive stance.

"Yes?" Mark stuck his chin out. Gem could only imagine he'd had enough of being kidnapped and chased. The next fight would have a different outcome – at least that was suggested by the way he stood. She grinned.

A strange sheriff stood in front of them, hat in hand. "I just received a call from Sheriff Jerome at Oxford, Oregon? According to him, you three need help."