Читать книгу Cold Case Justice - Sharon Dunn - Страница 12

THREE

“You’re coming with me, lady.”

The blond thug jerked her up out of the wheelchair, making her dizzy from the pain. There were no other people in the hallway. The empty nurses’ station suggested the wing might be unused. Panic washed over her like a wave.

Rochelle did not have the strength to resist the man as he dragged her toward the exit. She turned to stare down at Matthew, who had already begun to stir. “Who are you?”

“Look, lady, I was hired by a man. I’m supposed to take you to him.”

“The man you work for is a bad man. He wants to kill me.” She tried to pull her arm free, causing her to drop Matthew’s phone. The thug kicked the phone down the hall out of view. Pain sliced through her torso like a thousand tiny knifes.

“That’s not true.” Blondie squeezed her good arm tighter. “Just come on. He said you’d be resistant. He only wants to talk.”

She doubted Elwood only wanted to chat. Why go to all this trouble for a conversation? The only thing Corben wanted from her was her silence, and the only way he could get that would be to murder her. It seemed odd, though. If Corben wanted her dead, why not hire someone to kill her outright?

With a grip like iron on her upper arm, Blondie pushed her toward the exit. Any resistance she put up only caused more discomfort and made her light-headed. He led her out a side door into the employee parking lot, which unfortunately was empty. He shoved her into the back of the car. She laid her head against the leather seat. The pain had grown so intense she was having a hard time focusing let alone moving.

He grabbed her uninjured arm and pushed it upward toward the one in the sling. He pulled a piece of wire from his back pocket and secured her hands together with the insides of the wrists touching each other. She glanced around hoping, praying, that someone had seen them. He placed a blindfold over her eyes and then pushed on her shoulder. “Now get down.”

The thug got into the front seat and sped off through the parking lot. Any hope that Matthew would recover fast enough to help her faded. He’d already done more than any stranger should have and for that she was grateful. But now she was on her own.

Her captor swerved through traffic and then picked up speed. They must be headed out of town. She tried to push herself up, but when the pain intensified, she collapsed onto the seat. Her heart raced as fear surrounded her every thought.

This was it then. She wouldn’t see Jamie again. He was all that mattered to her. Jamie had guardians, a nice couple from her church. She’d made the legal arrangements shortly after he was born. He’d be loved and taken care of, but she wouldn’t be with him. Images of her son as a baby and a toddler flashed through her mind. Her eyes warmed with tears. He was her whole life.

She slipped in and out of consciousness, uncertain how much time had passed. At one point, the noise the tires made indicated that the road had changed from paved to dirt. The car came to a stop, and she heard the driver’s-side door open. She struggled to push herself up, but putting any kind of pressure on her injured arm was excruciating.

The back door opened. She assumed it was the thug until she heard a soft tenor voice. “Rochelle, it’s me.” Matthew slipped the blindfold off her.

She stared into the deep brown of his eyes, and gratitude washed over her.

He tugged on the sleeve of her good arm. “He’s making a phone call. Sounds like he’s lost and getting directions. Crawl out this way so he doesn’t see you.”

She inched across the seat, careful to keep her head down. Matthew’s courage amazed her. If it wasn’t for him, Elwood might have a gun to her head right now. She slipped out of the car and crouched, taking in her surroundings. The sky had turned dark gray with the promise of evening less than half an hour away. They were on a country road. Elwood must have rented a secluded cabin somewhere. The thug continued to talk on the phone and look out at his surroundings, probably trying to assess where he was.

Matthew pulled her into the cover of the trees and then quickly untwisted the wire that bound her hands together. “My car is down the road. I turned around when I saw he’d stopped.”

Twenty feet away, she could hear the shouts and expletives of the blond thug as he realized she’d escaped.

Matthew grabbed her good hand. “Come on, it’s not far.” He pulled her through the shelter of the trees. Out of breath and barely able to walk, she stopped and bent over. He wrapped his arm around her waist and all but carried her the remaining distance. Finally Matthew’s car came into view. She yanked open the passenger-side door, glancing over her shoulder. Blondie’s car rounded the corner. Matthew pressed the accelerator of his car just as she sat in the seat and closed the door. She belted herself in. Every part of her body felt like it was on fire and each inhale caused physical anguish.

She glanced over at Matthew, who focused on the road in front of him. What was going on with him that he would take this kind of risk for her?

Matthew gained speed. The other car loomed dangerously close.

He gripped the wheel tighter and pressed the accelerator to the floor.

The other car bumped against them. Rochelle braced herself on the dashboard with her good hand as her heart beat out a wild rhythm. There was a second and a third bump and then their car rolled down a steep hill. The front end impacted with a fallen log, coming to a jerky stop. She flew forward but the seat belt held her in place. Her whole torso flared from the trauma.

Matthew’s hand touched her shoulder. Concern filled his voice. “You all right?”

The intensity of the pain nearly blinded her, but she managed a nod. The warmth of his touch calmed her.

His hand brushed over her cheek. “I’m so sorry. The last thing you needed was to be in another accident.” He stared at her so intensely it was clear he was doing his paramedic thing and assessing her responses.

“Why are you doing all of this?”

He looked directly at her. “I just figure a kid who doesn’t have a dad deserves to at least have his mom around.”

His comment pierced straight through her. He was willing to do all of this for Jamie.

He clicked the key in the car, but nothing happened. “I’ve talked to your kid a couple of times when we ran into each other in the neighborhood. He’s a good kid. He deserves a shot at a normal life.” He shook his head. “I don’t think this car is going to start.”

Still reeling from what he had said about Jamie, Rochelle was seeing Matthew in a new light. For nine years, she’d been alone in caring about Jamie’s future. With Dylan gone, she’d assumed it would always be that way.

Rochelle glanced around. They’d rolled down a steep, snowy embankment. The road was above them, a forest on the other side. Blondie had hit them with such force that his own car had rolled down the hill, too. It was upright, but the smashed roof indicated that it must have turned over at least once.

Matthew tried his car one more time. Clearly it wasn’t going to start. He drew his attention to the thug’s wrecked car. “I’m going to make sure that guy is okay. And see if his car will run.”

Rochelle was amazed. Matthew never stopped being a paramedic. Blondie had nearly killed them, and Matthew still cared enough about his fellow human being to check on him.

“Be careful,” she said.

“I can handle it. He’s not getting out of the vehicle. He’s probably incapacitated.” Matthew pushed open the door and stepped out.

She waited for a moment and then thought it would be better if Matthew didn’t confront their pursuer alone. Still in pain, Rochelle pushed herself from the car and trailed behind Matthew. She watched him reach through the broken window of the thug’s car and touch the unconscious man’s neck to make sure he had a pulse.

Concern filled his expression when he noticed her. “You should’ve stayed in the car.”

“I was worried the guy might hurt you,” she said.

“I’m not sure how much help you would have been. You’re in pretty rough shape.” The corner of his mouth turned up and a smile danced in his eyes. “We need to call for help.” He looked down at his belt. “I don’t suppose you have my phone?”

“I dropped it when he grabbed me.” She peered inside the car. “His phone must be in there somewhere.” She went around to the passenger-side door and opened it to search.

Blondie’s eyes shot open. He grabbed her hair and started pulling. “You.” His voice filled with rage. Her scalp burned.

Matthew ran up behind her, wrapped his arm around her waist and wrestled her free. The thug crawled across the seat, reaching out for her, but Matthew pulled her back. The thug emerged from the wrecked car, swaying on his feet. His injuries from the accident had left him debilitated, and he stalked toward them slowly, stopping frequently. Matthew helped Rochelle sit down. After patting the thug down for a weapon, he led him back to the car where he tied him up. Weakened by the accident and his outburst with Rochelle, the thug resisted only once.

After returning to Rochelle, Matthew glanced up at the road above them and then at the forest. “Follow me.” He raced over to his wrecked car and pulled a first-aid kit out of the backseat.

She staggered toward him. Her side hurt every time she wheezed in air.

He must have seen the pain in her expression. “You can’t keep running like this. It will mess you up more. You can’t walk back to town in your condition.” He stared up at the steep incline that led to the country road.

“We have to at least try,” she said. “Someone should be along to pick us up.”

She swayed, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. He glanced over his shoulder to where the thug remained slumped against the car. “Guess we don’t have a lot of options. We’ll call for someone to come and get him when we get to town. I’ve got you. Walk as fast as you can.”

They made it only a short way up the hill before she stopped, breathing heavily and leaning against him. This wasn’t going to work. She could hardly walk, let alone climb a hill.

“I don’t think we should stay out in the open long. Other people might be coming when that guy doesn’t show up with me,” she said.

He walked parallel to the road, still supporting Rochelle. “Where was that guy taking you?”

“He was taking me to a man, an evil man who I am pretty sure wants me dead.”

“Why does he want you dead?” He continued to hold her up and plodded forward.

“Because...I...witnessed him...kill a man. Jamie’s father.” Recalling the horror of ten years ago weakened her even more. Her knees buckled.

He caught her in his arms and then looked directly at her. His hand touched her cheek. “You need to get your strength back up. You can’t walk anymore.”

“Maybe it’s not such a good idea to go up there anyway.” She was having a hard time forming a complete thought. “They’ll be looking for us on that road when I don’t show up.”

“We’ll have to come up with a different plan, then,” said Matthew. He pulled her into the shelter of some trees. He ripped open the first-aid kit and doled out two pills from a packet. “Take these. They’ll help somewhat with the pain.” His face was etched with concern. “What you need more than anything is rest. We’ll have to walk awhile on the flat ground, find a hiding place. Can you do that for me?” He shoved other items from the kit in his pockets.

She nodded even as she felt herself growing light-headed. She peered over her shoulder wondering if the thug would be able to figure out which direction they’d gone and tell whoever showed up. The snow was patchy and their footprints faint. “I guess hiding is our best option for now.”

With Matthew supporting her, they walked until they came to a place where the tree cover was fairly thick. He gathered tree branches and laid them on top of the snow. Using the branches as a chair, Matthew helped Rochelle to the ground.

“You need to stay here and rest. I’m going to scout around and see if there is another more accessible road where we might be able to catch a ride into town.”

“What if they come looking for me or that man in the car gets away?”

Matthew knelt beside her. He touched her cheek with his palm. The warmth of his touch seeped through her skin. “I know this plan is not perfect, but I will do everything in my power to make sure you get back to the hospital and get well for your son.”

“This is above and beyond your job description.”

He hesitated. “It’s what I need to do.” He dug through his pockets and pulled out a granola bar. “In case you get hungry.” He removed his winter coat and placed it around her shoulders.

“I won’t be gone for more than forty-five minutes. If anyone does come looking for you, you should be able to hear him coming. Find a place to hide. I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

How long would it be before Elwood realized something had happened and he came looking for her? “Won’t you be cold?” The sweater Matthew wore looked like it was wool, but it couldn’t totally shut out the November chill.

“You’re the one who needs to stay warm. Rest. Try to regain your strength. I’ll find a way to get you back to the hospital so you can get better.”

“Thank you.” Though she doubted she’d be safe in that hospital, she was overwhelmed by the extent to which he had gone to help her.

Matthew tilted his head. “It’s almost dark. That works in our favor.” He turned on a flashlight that was attached to his key chain and set off, his footsteps crunching in the snow. The noise slowly faded. Rochelle sat in the dark listening for the sound of approaching footsteps.

Matthew wasn’t wrong. Both accidents had weakened her. She was in no condition to travel, but what choice did she have? She slipped into Matthew’s coat, surprised by how warm it was. The coat smelled like him, kind of a woodsy musk scent. Her heart was opening up to him in a way that hadn’t happened since Dylan’s death. Yet she didn’t trust her own feelings. These were desperate circumstances, and Matthew had made it clear that his concern was only for her physical health and a secure future for Jamie. She didn’t dare read more into his kindness than that.

Despite her hypervigilance, exhaustion overtook her and she nodded off, grateful for the warmth of Matthew’s coat and for his help. She only hoped he was able to find a way back into town before Elwood Corben’s brand of trouble caught up with her again.

* * *

Matthew crossed his arms over his chest to stave off the evening cold. He’d be all right as long as he kept moving. His back muscles ached more than they should have. He’d probably strained them in the accident. He might be sore tomorrow, but he didn’t think he’d sustained much damage.

So far he hadn’t seen anything resembling a road. He hated leaving Rochelle behind. But he would have done more damage making her follow him around with no clear direction to go. He’d made a tough choice when there were no good choices.

Rochelle hadn’t been exaggerating when she said she needed to leave town. Clearly, her life was being threatened. Her initial solution had been to run, but she was in no condition for any kind of travel. When they got back into town, he’d have to convince her of that. The police had to provide some kind of protection and find the man responsible for all she had gone through.

He shone his flashlight all around, still not seeing any sign of a road or an alternate route back into town. He slowed down in his jogging.

What had he gotten himself into? Rochelle had witnessed a murder. He was in way over his head. Had he been right to trust his gut feeling or had he been impulsive in thinking he had to rescue Rochelle and her son? His sense of duty had to end somewhere. As soon as he handed her safely over to the police, he could step back from all of this.

He’d had a moment after he’d been knocked down at the hospital that he’d thought to run back to where people were and get a nurse to call the police, but he knew he had only seconds to catch up with Rochelle and her abductor before she’d be lost for sure and then Jamie would be an orphan.

He checked his watch. He could search another ten minutes and still have time to get back to Rochelle if he ran. The looming darkness made everything look different, but his experience as a hiker had forced him to pay attention to landmarks in all kinds of conditions. He’d find his way back just fine.

His boots crunched on the snow, and a chill settled over his skin. He walked faster, shining the light in an arc. The silhouette of a structure came into view. He walked toward it and realized it was a house with no lights on. Probably nobody home. All the same, he knocked. He waited, staring up at the night sky, which had grown darker. Stars twinkled down at him, and the full moon provided some illumination. He knocked again, this time louder, praying that lights would come on and someone would open the door.

He peered in the window but couldn’t see much. The place might not be occupied year-round. There were plenty of vacation cabins out this way. It could be months before the owners came back. There was no garage, and he didn’t see a car anywhere. As expected, when he tried the door it was locked.

He needed to get back to Rochelle. As he ran, he weighed his options. Rochelle would be feeling a little stronger after resting. They might be able to hike out to the country road where the accident had occurred. They’d have the cover of darkness in their favor, and they could walk parallel to the road until they found a place that was less steep. He stuttered in his step. Not the best plan. He had no idea what additional injury Rochelle had suffered from the second accident and he wasn’t doing too great, either. His best guess was that she wouldn’t be able to walk very far. They would have to hope a car picked them up right away.

Rochelle had been pretty certain the thug had friends who would come looking for her. Her kidnapper had been in rough shape, but it was probably too much to hope that he would just get a ride back into town.

Matthew pushed tree branches out of the way. He was getting close to where he’d left Rochelle. He shone the light. He could see where the snow was pressed down and the pile of branches he’d gathered for her to sit on, but no Rochelle. He wasn’t panicked. She might have gotten up to keep warm.

He followed the footprints in the snow that indicated which direction she’d gone, but they ended abruptly in a dry patch of ground. He was about to call her name when he heard a rustling in the trees, and then a man grunted. He turned off his flashlight and slipped behind an evergreen.

The crunching of footsteps told him the man was maybe ten feet away. Matthew scanned the darkness. Rochelle must have heard the man coming and hidden somewhere, too. He caught a flash of color as the man walked past him—not the same man who had been in the car accident, not Blondie. This guy was thin. He waited for the footsteps to fade. He could still see the flashlight bobbing in and out of the trees moving farther away.

“Rochelle.” Matthew’s voice came out in a harsh whisper. His muscles tensed when he didn’t hear anything.

He angled out from behind the tree and returned to where he’d seen her footprints. He slipped into the forest. When he looked over his shoulder, the flashlight of the thug was coming back toward the clearing.

He darted through the trees, his feet pounding against the frozen ground. His voice filled with desperation as he whispered, “Rochelle.”

“I’m here.” She appeared out of the darkness, still wearing his coat.

He grabbed her hand. “He’s coming back this way.”

He pulled her through the forest. He could hear the rapid crunching of their footsteps. The light came directly toward them. They’d been spotted. With Rochelle lagging behind him as he held on to her hand, he knew they weren’t going to outrun this guy. He guided her toward some brush hidden from the moonlight by a canopy of trees. They huddled low and close together waiting for the sound of passing footsteps. He listened to the ragged exhale and inhale of her breath. All this movement was hard on her. Moments later, footsteps crunched through the dry snow. They remained still, their shoulders touching, until the noise faded.

Finally, she released a heavy breath. “I think he’s gone...for now.”

“We should get up to the road.” What choice did they have but to try to get out that way? He rose to his feet and put out a hand to help her up. She groaned in pain as she got to her feet. The accident and all the running had weakened him, too. If his muscles ached, hers must be in worse shape.

As though she’d heard his thoughts, she said, “I’m okay.” But the waver in her voice gave away how much pain she was in.

He took her hand. “Hopefully, a driver will come along quickly before that guy comes back.”

They wove through the evergreens, finally emerging from a cluster of trees. Matthew dove to the ground, taking Rochelle with him. She groaned when she hit the ground. Two cars with the lights on were parked along the road. He lifted his head and counted at least three men patrolling the road.

Rochelle gasped, her voice filled with fear. “That’s Elwood Corben, the man who’s after me.”

She pointed toward a man standing beside one of the cars.

What could they do? Rochelle couldn’t keep moving, not in her condition. Running in the valley parallel to the road until they were out of sight of the patrollers might be too much for her. This Elwood Corben had brought some manpower with him. What if he had someone patrolling the road in a car? They might have to run for miles before they were in the clear.

“Come with me. I know a place we can hide for a while.” Moving away from the path, he wove through the trees, listening for the footfalls of the man searching the woods for them. Rochelle lagged behind him. When he turned to look at her, she was bent over though trudging forward. She lifted her head.

“We’re almost there.” He pressed his hands against her cheeks. “Can you make it?”

She nodded but then her head tilted back as she swayed. He caught her and carried her the remaining distance to the cabin, setting her on her feet outside the door. She continued to lean against him for support while he broke the window and reached in to unlatch the door. Because crime was not a huge issue around here, security measures were usually not extensive. He’d leave a note with his phone number explaining why they’d broken in and offering to pay for the window.

The cabin was one large room with an adjoining bathroom. Whoever lived here had left behind a minimum of possessions. Rochelle collapsed onto a couch that must fold out into a bed. He found a blanket and laid it over the top of her. He dare not build a fire in case the men got this far out with their search. His guess, though, was that they’d be watching the road for a long time before they changed tactics on their search.

The gash on her head had begun to bleed again. He dressed it and dug through his pockets for the remaining ibuprofen. There was no running water but he found some tomato juice in the pantry. She took the pill.

Worry colored her expression. “What are we going to do if they come here?”

“I’ll stay awake. If we have to run, we’ll run. As soon as we have a little light, we’ll find a way back into town.”

“I know you want me back in the hospital.” She gazed up at him with wide brown eyes. “But when we get back to town, we have to get my son first. Please.”

“Of course.” After all this, her focus was still her son. He slid down to the floor using the couch as a backrest. He wondered what he had gotten himself into. In a million years, he couldn’t imagine that all of this was because of a murder. “Rochelle, why didn’t you go to the police when you witnessed this man kill Jamie’s father?”

She closed her eyes and covered them with her hand. “He threated to hurt my family. It was ten years ago. I was young and scared and I ran away. But now he’s found me.”

“You can go to the police now and tell them everything that happened then and today. They will help you.” She looked so forlorn, so defeated, that he didn’t regret listening to his gut feeling. Rochelle had needed him. Still, he was in over his head.

There was a long moment of silence before she answered. “I want to believe that, but I saw Corben talking to a cop in the courthouse and...this is a small police department and he’s a powerful man. He’s had police on his payroll in Seattle.”

Her voice faded.

He rose to his feet, needing to get an idea of the layout of the house and to think over what she had said. She grabbed his hand.

“Matthew, you didn’t have to do all this, but I probably wouldn’t be alive without you.”

Her hand felt like silk in his. As he looked into her eyes, affection for her tugged at his heart. He pushed his feelings aside. The trouble she faced was complicated. Way more than he had bargained for. Whatever had sparked inside him in that moment when she touched his hand—this was not the time or place to dwell on it.

“Yeah, well, it was for the kid.” He pulled away and wandered through the house, not finding anything useful—some canned goods, but not a gun or anything he could use in self-defense. When he returned to the sofa, she was fast asleep.

He listened until her breathing became steady and deep. She looked almost peaceful as she slept. He found another blanket that he wrapped around his shoulders. He slipped down to the floor using the couch as a backrest. His reaction to her thank-you surprised him. Maybe it was just about all they had been through in the past ten hours. Women he’d rescued on calls sometimes sought him out afterward. He recognized that glow of affection when they said thank-you, and he knew that relationships born out of trauma never worked out.

The best thing to do was to get Rochelle back to town and call the police so that kid had a fighting chance at a normal life.

Ten minutes passed and he felt himself nod off and jerk awake, bracing for the possibility that Elwood Corben and his thugs might burst through the door at any moment.