Chapter Thirty
The car bumped along, slipping and sliding, sending Cait and the other body jostling back and forth. After some time, the other person woke up and started squealing.
“Who are you?” Cait whispered. “Where’s he taking us?”
Squeal, squeal, squeal. The high-pitched voice sounded like either a young boy or a girl having a panic attack.
“It’s okay. It’ll all be okay,” Cait said, not feeling the least bit okay. She rolled her body close to the flailing one. “Can you at least get this hood off of me?”
“It’s not a hood, it’s a pillowcase,” the kid said.
“Okay, then get the pillowcase off me.”
“You two shut up back there,” the man yelled.
“You’re going to be in a lot of trouble, Mister.” Cait gritted her teeth, putting on a brave act. “My husband’s a firefighter and he’s sure to come looking for me.”
“Oh yeah? Your husband tried to kill you.”
“How do you know?” Cait felt a squirm of fear dig into her gut.
“Everyone in town knows he cut your brake lines. I’m here to save you.” The man laughed nastily. “He’s a real piece of work. I’m surprised you stayed married to him all these years.”
How did this guy know how long Brian was married to her? Word sure got around in a small town, which meant the criminal was someone local. She’d remember this detail in case she got away, and it would help authorities narrow down the suspect.
“Let us go.” Cait banged her head against the back of the seat. “If you were really saving us, you’d drive us to the police station.”
“Not in this weather, I wouldn’t,” the man said. “I have a better place for you.”
The car made a sharp turn, throwing Cait and the kid against the door. The kid squealed in pain and Cait gritted her teeth, not wanting to give the kidnapper the satisfaction that he’d hurt her.
The car descended a steep slope and skidded to a stop, wedging Cait between the front seats. The man opened the door, hitting Cait with a blast of frigid air, and shouted, “We’re here. Get out and no funny business.”
Without the use of her hands, Cait was unable to extricate herself, not that she was going to make it easy for the kidnapper. She laid still, taking inventory of her aches and pains. The neck she had strained earlier was stiff and sore, and her ribs throbbed from being thrown around without seatbelts.
The kid squealed, “I want my dogs. Where are my dogs?”
“Hopefully dead.” The man grabbed Cait by the armpits and dragged her up a slippery drive and parked her on a bench. She still had the pillowcase over her face and her wrists and ankles were bound together, so she couldn’t make a run for it.
“I want my dogs,” the kid whined, stomping his feet.
Poor kid didn’t know Sierra was hurt and Melia had run out into the cold. Cait breathed a prayer that someone would come to the cabin and find Sierra. Hopefully, Melia was lurking around and would return once she saw that the dog-hating crook was gone.
“Shut up and pick the locks,” the horrid man growled.
“My dad has a security guard. There’s an alarm.”
Why was the kid arguing instead of making a run for it?
Cait heard the click of the safety of a pistol being released. Okay, now she got the picture.
“Disarm it, kid,” the man growled.
“But, Wonderman, I thought you were nice,” the kid complained. “You said I can get my dogs.”
“Glen, listen to me.” Cait’s voice croaked from her tight throat. “This man isn’t my husband. He’s an imposter.”
“You shut up.” The man cuffed Cait’s head. “Brian Wonder’s going to pay for what he did to me. Hurry up with the locks. It’s freezing out here.”
