Cubby shook his head. “Most are used for the tourists now, but this one was let go because it was in a bad state. When old Mr. Lever passed, his people decided to let it rot.”
Ethan looked at Jake, Buster and Newman. “Okay, we’ll take it, and you keep in radio contact, Cubby.”
The sheriff looked at the three men before speaking. “The thing here is that while a few of you irritate me to hell, I don’t want any of you shot, so if you find anything, you radio it in, and then we go in and see who’s inside. You got that, Tex?”
“I got it,” Ethan said, knowing there wasn’t a shit show in hell of anyone stopping him if he thought Annabelle was in there.
“Jake, I’m not real confident that your buddy here’s telling the truth,” Cubby said.
“I’ll watch him.”
They were all armed in minutes and walking into the redwoods. It was still early, and the air was cool, but none of them felt it. They were all focused on what they had to do.
“I’m running this,” Jake said, “and you’re gonna listen, Ethan.”
Ethan grunted but said nothing further, concentrating on calming his breathing and focusing on what had to be done to get his girl back safe.
Buster followed Jake, Ethan came next, and Newman brought up the rear. They’d penned him in and for now he’d let them. They kept the pace brisk and no one spoke again until Jake raised a hand and they all stopped. When Jake pointed downwards, Ethan saw tracks and felt his heart start a steady thud in his chest.
“It’s up ahead about twenty feet. Newman, you and Buster go around the back, and Tex and I will take the front.”
Ethan watched his friends slip into the trees silently, then he and Jake moved slowly forward. The place was small and run down, raised up on stilts, with half its roof missing. One window faced out onto a small porch, but he couldn’t see anyone inside.
“There’s a camper,” Ethan said.
“Could belong to anyone,” Jake cautioned.
“I’m going underneath the house,” Ethan whispered, then ran forward without waiting for Jake. In seconds Jake had followed, spitting out several foul words, eyes shooting sparks at Ethan.
He heard the voices then, male, definitely two, but no woman’s voice. Closing his eyes, he prayed she was safe, and that it was her up above him.
“We have to get them outside,” Jake whispered.
“We need a decoy,” Ethan mouthed.
Newman and Buster arrived then, moving quietly to where he and Jake were standing.
“They’re both in there. I looked in a window and Annabelle’s next to Cooper on the sofa, sitting up, looking ready to bite whoever comes near her,” Newman said.
Ethan felt his knees buckle, the relief was so intense.
“We need a distraction,” Jake whispered. “Something to draw them out.”
“Okay, give us a few minutes,” Buster said, then he and Newman were on the move again.
Minutes later, they heard the sound of loud singing. Ethan watched, tense and waiting, as Buster and Newman came up the trail with their arms around each other, weaving all over the place.
“You have got to be shitting me,” Ethan whispered.
“Fuck me,” Jake said. “I’d be tempted to shoot them just to shut them up.”
Their voices were so off key, Ethan was sure any wildlife had run for the hills.
“Let’s go.” Ethan pulled his gun and ran towards the rear of the house, then up the steps. When he reached the door, he quickly tested the handle and when it turned, he pushed the door open.
Annabelle and Cooper were sitting close to each other on the sofa facing the rear of the old Lever place, so they saw Ethan and Jake before the men did, because the men had their faces pressed to the window, trying to see who was making the racket outside.
“It’s two drunken idiots,” one of the men said.
