THE COTTAGE
Chapter 10
They stood like that for a long moment, locked in a tight embrace as their emotions slowly settled and their breathing returned to normal.
Tim gently broke the embrace first. He rested his hands on her shoulders, seeing the question in her eyes.
“I know what you want to ask, Caroline. I promise I’ll tell you more, but right now…it’s just too hard.” He lowered his hands to his sides. “Tell me you understand.”
She nodded.
What other secret is he holding back? she wondered.
He turned toward the door.
“Don’t leave me, Tim. I’m afraid.” She reached out, but he was already at the door.
“Lock every door after I leave.” He turned once more.
“I just need some fresh air. Too many thoughts racing. I’ll get your dad. You won’t be alone long.” He managed a weak smile. “You need some rest. We all do.”
Just before closing the door, he added quietly, “Don’t open it until you hear my voice—or your father’s.”
He gave her one last reassuring smile and closed the door behind him.
Her gaze lingered on the closed door. Then, almost automatically, she carried the breakfast dishes to the sink.
Why did I pour out my heart to a virtual stranger? I don't even know his last name. Yet in so many ways, he's a stranger no longer. How can that be? He makes me feel safe in his presence. She pondered these mysteries as she dried the last plate and put it away.
The first rays of morning sunlight stretched across the horizon as Caroline climbed the stairs wearily.
“Good grief.” She sniffed beneath one arm. “I stink.”
Outside, Tim slowly scanned the property, the pistol resting comfortably in his hand. He realized he had been holding his breath. He forced himself to relax and look over the grounds again.
Nothing moved.
Everything appeared peaceful. Nature relaxed.
He glanced toward the cottage. Through the kitchen window he could see Caroline at the sink. She looked tired, but safe.
He allowed himself the faintest smile.
At the barn he paused and whispered, “Ned.”
Silence.
He eased the door open. The old hinges obeyed with barely a sound. The familiar scent of weathered wood and hay drifted toward him. Darkness pooled in the corners.
“Ned,” he whispered again.
A faint scurrying sounded behind him, an alarm. He spun
“God, Tim! I almost clobbered you.”Ned lowered the heavy pipe he had been gripping like a baseball bat.
“We need to talk, Ned. We’re in grave danger. Everything is falling apart.”
“No joke, Tim.”
Tim hesitated, not sure whether to say anything. Finally, he blurted out, “I told Caroline about my family.”
“You did what?” Frustration sharpened Ned’s voice. “For God’s sake…why?”
“It just happened.” Tim’s voice was almost apologetic. “I don’t even know who started talking first.”
Ned sank heavily onto an old wooden crate. Tim sat across from him.
Ned buried his face in his hands.
For several long moments neither man spoke.
Finally Ned looked up.
“They weren’t accidents, Tim.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been replaying Caroline’s accident over and over in my mind ever since I learned what happened to your family. Something has never felt right. The police called both tragedies accidents…but my instincts keep telling me otherwise.”
Tim stared at him.
“My daughter’s family…your family…” His voice cracked.
“You don’t think…”
“Yes.” Ned swallowed hard. “I do.” He leaned forward.
“Their accidents are connected.”
Tim felt the blood drain from his face.
“Oh, God…”
“I think they were murdered.”
Neither man spoke.
Tears welled in Tim’s eyes.
Steam still lingered in the bathroom as Caroline crossed into her bedroom, towel-drying her hair. She picked up the hairbrush and brushed the tangles from her hair. Satisfied, she tied it into a knot. “Ahh, two more inches and I'll be able to make a proper chignon, like yours, Mom,” she said, touching her mother’s photo lovingly.
The cottage, usually filled with gentle whispers and settling sounds, had grown strangely quiet.
Too quiet.
Wasting no more time on reverie, she dropped her robe and dressed in blue jeans and a chambray shirt. She was about to tuck it in, but she stopped. She stood perfectly still.
Silence settled around her like a heavy woolen blanket.
No birds.
No creaking floorboards.
Only the steady ticking of the old clock downstairs on the fireplace mantle.
Tim had warned her to lock the door after he left.
Did I? I think I did.
Her heart beat like a drum so loudly she could barely hear anything else.
You’re being ridiculous, she told herself. Calm down. Deep breaths.
Then she heard it.
A footstep. Behind her.
She spun around.
A man dressed entirely in black stared back at her.
She lashed out instinctively, driving a hard kick into his mid-section.
He crumbled to his knees. “Bitch!” he cried.
Caroline bolted for the stairs. She flew into the kitchen, snatching up the heavy iron frying pan.
Through the back door she caught sight
of her father stepping out of the barn.
Hurry, Daddy!
The attacker was right behind her.
She spun and swung with every ounce of strength she possessed.
The frying pan connected with a sickening crack.
The man collapsed at her feet. She jumped over him.
The back door was blocked!
Her lungs burned. Adrenaline screamed through her body.
Run, Caroline!
She glanced once at the unconscious man, then toward the window again.
Her father was gone.
She raced for the front door. Her trembling fingers fumbled with the lock.
Come on…
Come on…
Finally it clicked open.
A gunshot shattered the morning silence. Birds exploded from the trees.
Then came an eerie stillness.
Her hand froze around the doorknob.
Behind her, the man groaned. He was waking up.
“Daddy!” she screamed. “Help me!”
She threw the door open.
Bright sunlight blinded her.
As her vision cleared, she saw a man lying on the paving stones.
It was her father.
He rolled weakly onto one side, clutching his shoulder. Blood spread across his sleeve.
“No…Daddy…”
Before she could move, a huge gloved hand clamped tightly over her mouth.
She bit down as hard as she could.
The taste of leather filled her mouth. Bile burned her throat.
She kicked wildly.
A low growl rumbled in her ear. “Cut it out, Caroline, or I’ll really have to hurt you…just like we hurt your dad.”
She fought even harder.
“You asked for it.”
A sharp sting pierced her neck. A needle.
Ned struggled to lift himself.
“Caroline…” he gasped. “Run!”
“Daddy…” The word dissolved into cotton as the drug swept through her body.
The kidnapper laughed.“Go, little girl. You won’t get far.” His laughter sounded to Caroline like the howl of a wolf.
He shoved her forward. “Go to your daddy, Caroline. Can't you see he needs you?” His laughter was like gravel.
She stumbled several steps.
The world tilted.
The trees swayed.
Her legs no longer obeyed her.
She reached toward her father, but he seemed to slip farther and farther away.
Then everything slipped away.
Dear Readers,
Chapter 11 gets very real! Suspense builds! Get ready for it next week!
I am listening!
ettlainie92@gmail.com
elainestories.com