Chapter 38

Candace stared at the light bulb until her eyes burned, but she didn’t blink and didn’t look away. She needed to get the hell out of that locked room before Abraham returned. Hours earlier, she’d heard a muffled sound of a distant door slamming. Since then, silence. He’d left. Maybe he’d gone for supplies. But she was alone. Of that she was certain.

A horrible thought entered her mind…what if he never came back? What if he’d left her there to starve? No one knew where she was. No one would find her. She’d never see Aiden again. Despair weighted her heart, and she lay on the cold cement floor, her knees drawn to her chest, hot tears washing her face.

With no outside light penetrating the tiny cell, she had no way of knowing if it was night or day. The hours blended one into another. Thirst raged through her, and her stomach growled with hunger. The last food she’d eaten was the soup and crackers. How long ago was that?

She had no idea where she was being held or what Abraham’s plans for her were, but judging by the string of dead and injured women he’d left in his wake, unless she escaped, no one would see her alive again. She’d disappear. Just like Charlene, and that poor girl the police had found dead in Lynn Canyon. Like Amanda Jacobs.

Maybe he was also responsible for the death of the anonymous girl whose bones she and Aiden had discovered in the park cave. A sob clogged her throat.

Tears streamed from her eyes, blinding her, seeping down her cheeks, dripping onto her dirt-crusted shirt. Somehow, she had to escape. She scrubbed her hands over her face. Think. Study the room. Examine every inch. There had to be a way out.

The walls were made of solid-looking concrete. There weren’t any crumbling patches through which she could dig a hole and escape. Besides, she was chained to the wall. She jerked her leg and rattled the chain like she had a thousand times before, but the metal ring embedded in the cement didn’t budge. She’d spent countless hours fighting to break the clamp around her ankle, but other than broken nails and blisters on her hands, she hadn’t made any progress.

Think! There had to be something she could use to escape.

She took inventory—a plastic water hose, a metal chair, six empty plastic water bottles, and a heavy-duty plastic bucket filled with her waste. She grimaced. Not even a Special Forces expert could finagle a weapon with those simple supplies.

She curled back on the floor, too exhausted, too filled with hopelessness, to do anything other than cry. The tiny, windowless room would be her crypt. She’d die there. Not now, maybe not tomorrow, but Abraham would kill her. Of that she was certain.

She’d almost accepted the inevitable. The oblivion of death was preferable to lying on the cold, hard floor, in that brightly lit room that smelled of rot, despair, and her own waste. Her only regret was she’d never see Aiden again, never again feel the comfort of being held in his arms, his lips on hers… She squeezed her eyes closed.

****

The twenty-minute wait for the helicopter felt like twenty years. Aiden passed the time pressing Sam for more details on the snowmobile warming hut and the surrounding terrain.

Joe waited in the car, the motor idling, steam from the car’s exhaust clouding the air. He’d asked Aiden if he wanted to join him, but Aiden was too fired up to sit twiddling his thumbs in a warm vehicle.

Adrenaline pumped through him, and his body vibrated with the need for action. He couldn’t stand still, and so he paced. From one side of the empty parking lot to the other, again and again, listening for the rumble of a helicopter over the roar of the wind. The temperature had dropped a dozen degrees, and the snow swirling in the air was thicker and starting to stick to the ground.

He raised his coat collar, huddled into his light suede jacket, and shoved his cold-numbed hands deeper into his pants pockets. Questions swirled like the snow through his brain. Was his gut instinct right? Had Abraham Strawski taken her? Was Candace being held in the snowmobile warming hut? Would they find her? Would she be alive when they did?

And what about the perp? Would they take him down? He sure as hell hoped so. If Abraham Strawski somehow managed to escape, Aiden vowed he’d track the bastard through the very gates of Hell and make damn sure he paid for what he’d done. Not just to Candace, but to all his other victims.

“Aiden.”

Joe’s voice broke through his inner storm, and Aiden turned to the car.

Joe had the window rolled down and gestured for Aiden to come closer.

Aiden strode over. “What’s up?”

“Get your ass in here, and I’ll tell you.” Joe punched a button, and the window rolled up.

Aiden heaved a sigh and walked around to the passenger door, yanked it open and climbed in. A blast of warmth hit him. Joe had the heater cranked up, and the air inside the car was tropical. The windows were fogged and beaded with condensation. He unzipped his jacket. “What’s going on?”

Joe wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “The captain radioed. Looks like they caught the guy who raped Laurie Ann Carson. He broke into a girl’s dorm room and attacked her. Lucky thing her roommate walked in and called the cops.”

Aiden’s breath whooshed out. “So, he’s not our guy.”

Joe shook his head. “Doesn’t look like it.” He reached over and turned the heater down a notch. “The chopper pilot just radioed. He’s delayed. This weather isn’t helping. The visibility is crap.”

Aiden’s heart sank. “How much longer will they be?”

Joe shrugged. “Another couple of hours at least. They can’t take off until the storm eases.”

“What?” Aiden pounded his fist on the dash. “No way. We have to get in there now. We can’t wait two hours. Candace’s life is at stake. Every second could mean the difference between life and death.”

Joe’s eyes narrowed. “You really like this girl, don’t you? She means more to you than just a pretty face.”

Aiden chewed on his bottom lip, and then decided to hell with it. “You’re right. I like her. I like her a lot.” He smoothed the palm of his hand over his damp hair. “I don’t know what it is, but she’s special to me, and we have to find her.”

There was a beat of silence, filled by the smooth rumble of the motor and the blast of hot air from the vents.

Joe cleared his throat. “Well, then you should go and get her.”

Aiden furrowed his brow. “What are you saying?”

“You can’t let your past control you. You made one mistake. So what? Everyone screws up. It may surprise you, but even I’ve messed up a few times.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Candace Cooper isn’t a mistake. And she’s in danger.”

Joe was right. He needed to find her. And fast, before he was too late. But how? That was the million-dollar question, the one that tore at his heart.

“Look, man.” Joe gripped Aiden’s arm. “I made a mistake a long time ago.” He licked his lips. “I didn’t act when I should have. I thought I knew better than anyone. I regret that. I’ve regretted it every single day since and…” His voice broke, and he released his hold on Aiden’s arm and sat, staring straight ahead at the fogged windshield, blinking.

Another long beat of silence.

Were those tears glimmering in Joe’s eyes? Aiden had never seen his partner express any emotion other than sarcasm. And what was he talking about? What case did he regret?

“Aiden?” Joe’s rough voice was loud in the thick silence. “Why the hell are you sitting here on your ass when your girl needs you?” He arched his shaggy brows. “Go get her, Loverboy. Be a hero.”

Aiden sagged against the seat. “But you just said the helicopter’s delayed.”

“I’m willing to bet my pension there’s more than one way to get in there.”

Aiden stared at the falling snow melting on the hood from the heat of the engine. Was Joe right? Was there another way to access that old warming hut? The bigger question was—did he have a choice? Candace was in deep trouble. He knew where she probably was being held. He had to save her. It was as simple and as complicated as that.

An idea popped into his brain, and he wrenched open the door and jumped out of the car. “You’re a genius, Joe.” He slammed the door behind him and rushed over to Sam’s truck.

The retired ranger was sitting inside the rumbling vehicle, keeping warm.

Aiden tapped on the driver’s-side window.

Sam rolled the window down. “What’s up, Detective?”

“The helicopter’s delayed due to the weather. Is there any other way to reach that hut?”

Sam pursed his lips. “I’m not surprised about the chopper. This snow’s pretty heavy, and with the wind, there’s no way anyone would fly. You’ll be lucky if the storm ends before tomorrow.”

Aiden fought against despair. “Could I walk to the cabin? Is that a possibility? Or ride an ATV?”

Sam shook his head. “It’s too far to walk, and like I told you, the trail’s washed out. You’d never make it. Not even on a quad.”

The energy seeped out of Aiden’s body like air leaking out of a balloon, and it was all he could do to remain standing. “So that’s it then? We have to wait for the chopper.” A dozen scenarios flashed before him, each more terrifying that the next. The longer Candace remained with her abductor, the greater the risk. It was simple statistics that every cop knew.

Sam shoved his hat back from his forehead. “There is another way.”

“There is?”

“Yep. It won’t be easy though, especially with this storm.” The old ranger studied Aiden. “You look tough enough. Maybe you could handle it.”

“Tell me. What do I have to do?”

“How good are you on a horse?”