6 Maple Leaf Hunter (10 page)

“Please,” I begged. “Let me sit down. You can see I can’t walk. I’ll tell you where the coins are.”

He motioned with the gun for me to sit on a chair. I managed to get to the table, but I felt lightheaded, and pain caused flashes of light to occur in the periphery of my vision. I sat down and put my head in my hands.

“The coins,” he said.

Thunder sounded in the distance. The storm would be upon us soon. The longer I kept the man talking, the better chance I had of being rescued.

“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.

“Nothing, if you tell me what I want to know,” he said. He waved the gun back and forth and reiterated, “The coins.”

I couldn’t tell him they were on the dresser in Alex’s room at our house. I couldn’t risk one of his accomplices going to the house and hurting Mick’s parents, or worse, Lizzie.

Another wave of pain shot across my ankle. I winced and said, “They’re in plastic dishes in the living room at our neighbor’s house.” I regretted the words as soon as they came out of my mouth.

“The smaller house next to yours?” he asked.

I nodded and put my head in my hands again.

“Ok. Let’s talk about the gold bars again,” he said.

Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. There wasn’t any rain yet, but the wind had picked up and the weather conditions were turning ugly fast.

I looked up at the man and said tiredly, “I don’t know where they are. I tried to find them in the RV, but I don’t know where you hid them.”

He gave me a look of disgust. “The gold bars weren’t hidden in the RV,” he said. “They were in the bag of rocks my son gave to the kid with you.”

My head snapped up with that bit of information. “No,” I said emphatically. “I looked all through the bag right away when it was given to him. There weren’t any gold bars.”

“We’re not stupid,” he said. “We didn’t put them in with the rocks. They were sewed into the bottom of the bag.”

The light flashes popped at the outermost corners of my eyes again. The stitch returned to my side. Pain was everywhere, and I knew I was close to passing out. I struggled to hold onto consciousness. My words were slightly slurred as I repeated his words. “They were sewed into the bottom.” I had picked the bag up earlier today. If there were gold bars in it at one time, they were gone now. “Someone got them,” I said.

“Get up,” he ordered.

“I can’t walk,” I said.

He stepped closer and raised the gun again. “Get up right now,” he said firmly. “Grab the stick and let’s go.” He smiled before saying, “You’re going for a swim.”

Now I knew why he was at the rock quarry looking into the water. He had probably planned to dump Alex there if he didn’t tell him where the gold was, but now he intended to use the pool of water to threaten me.

It took every bit of strength I had to get upright and stand on one foot. I couldn’t bend over to pick up the stick. He thrust it into my hand and gave me a push toward the door. My first thought was to club him with the stick, but I was so weak, it might as well have been one of those foam fingers in my hand.

I took a step forward. I didn’t doubt that he was capable of shooting me right here, but the long, slow walk to the quarry would buy more precious minutes for Alex to come back with help. I managed the last few steps to the door and opened it.

Large raindrops were just beginning to fall. I stepped out from the cabin. There was no sign of Alex or any help. I had no idea how much time had passed since he left. I took two more steps forward. They were exhausting.

A loud crack sounded behind me. I turned to look at the man, but my world went dark.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Alex cried out, but a sharp crack of lightning drowned out his cry.

He took great gulps of air, desperate to take oxygen into his lungs. Despair washed over him. Susan was gone, and he knew his dad would never forgive him.

His tears mixed with the rain and poured down his cheeks. He clawed at his face and pulled his hair before screaming as loud as he could. Suicidal feelings were quick to surface. He would never be able to live with himself knowing he was responsible for her death. He knew he should have told them about the gold when he first found it instead of burying it in the woods.

He ran to the cabin and stared at the man lying face down on the ground. The back of his head was bloodied. He might still be alive, but he didn’t attempt to find out. He turned and ran down the path.

When he reached the fork, he chose the path to the rock quarry. They were never going to find Susan, and he would make sure they never found him either.

He never flinched as he walked the path. He was impervious to the now raging storm around him.

When he crested the hill, he climbed onto a large rock to look down on the quarry. He sat motionless, void of all feeling. It would be easy to slip into the dark water.

Every hair on his head, and all the hair on his arms, stood up at the same time. He realized he had become a conductor for a lightning strike, and he instinctively threw himself forward off the rock. He barely had time to tuck and roll before the lightning struck with a ferocious crack.

The near-death lightning strike, and the pain from rolling on the sharp rocks, brought his full senses back to him. Maybe Susan wouldn’t be the first. He knew he had to tell his dad right away. He ran as fast as he could back to the lodge.

When he burst through the door and into the lobby, everyone was waiting. Even Beau was in attendance and seated near the fire.

Mick stood first and rushed forward to him. “Where have you been? Are you ok?” he asked. “Where’s Susan?”

Tears flowed again as he threw himself into his father’s arms and lost all composure.

Emily was quick to grab a heavy throw from one of the sofas and slip it around his shoulders. She rushed off for towels.

Darby and Nate stood. Seeing Alex break down brought tears to Nate’s eyes. He quickly brushed them away. Both guys knew the news he was bringing wouldn’t be good.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said. “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault, and I’m really sorry.”

Mick guided him to a sofa and sat down beside him. He struggled to remain calm as he asked, “Alex, what? Where’s Susan? What’s happened to her?”

“There was a man,” he said. “He forced his way into my cabin today. He was looking for the gold bars that were stolen from the Pirata exhibit at the mall.”

Mick frowned and appeared confused, “There were gold bars stolen from the exhibit? Why would he ask you for them?”

Alex didn’t want to confess to his stupidity, but he had to tell them everything. “Because they were in the bag of rocks the man gave me in Niagara Falls. I found them in a false bottom Tuesday night. I tested them, so I knew they were real gold, and I got scared. They used me, Dad. They used me to get the gold into the country, and I freaked. I didn’t want the cops finding the bars on me, so I buried them in the woods.”

Mick lost all patience. “Alex, I swear, if you don’t tell me where Susan is this instant, I’ll -”

He stopped himself. He didn’t really want to threaten him. He wanted to know where Susan was and if she was all right.

Alex said again, “I’m sorry. I’m trying to tell you. The man saw the empty bag in my cabin. I told him I didn’t know where the gold was, but he didn’t believe me. He searched the room and then forced me at gunpoint to the abandoned cabin at the end of the trail. He gagged me and tied my hands and feet. He left, but he said he’d be back. Susan found me there.”

Mick’s eyes lit up. It wasn’t that he wasn’t upset about what happened to Alex, and the thought had already crossed his mind that he would find the man who abducted him and beat him to a pulp, but here was finally something about Susan.

Alex continued, “She cut me loose, and we were ready to run back here, but she tripped on something and sprained her ankle. She couldn’t walk. She made me leave her there and come back here for help.”

Mick jumped up. “Well, let’s go,” he said. “We can get her back here. Why didn’t you tell us where she was when you first got here?” His exasperation was on full display.

Alex yelled, “Because she’s not there. The man with the gun came back.”

Mick’s face went rigid.

Tears spilled from Alex’s eyes again. “I was running down the path, and I heard the Sasquatch scream – twice. I felt guilty for leaving her there. I was afraid something would happen to her, so I went back. I hid in the woods and watched the cabin for a few minutes, and that’s when I saw the man at the window. I waited. I thought there might still be a way to help her.”

He stopped talking. The next part was too hard for him to tell.

Mick’s voice was soft as he sat down next to him again. “Just tell us, Alex,” he said. “Whatever it is, just tell us.”

He nodded and struggled to find his voice. His voice was strained as he said, “The door opened, and Susan came out. She took a few steps, but it was hard for her, and she had to stop. She had her head down, so I don’t think she saw what happened.”

“What happened,” Darby whispered.

“The Sasquatch came around the corner of the cabin and clubbed the man on the back of the head. Susan fell, but it picked her up and threw her over its shoulder like a rag doll.” His look was tortured as he said, “Dad, it took her. She’s gone.”

Mick covered his face with his hands. Nate burst into tears.

Pain swirled around me. Sharp, shooting pains wreaked havoc on my ankle. The stitch in my side refused to go away. At the moment, dying was preferable to the pain.

I opened my eyes. I was in a bedroom in someone’s house. I definitely wasn’t in our room at the lodge. The room was dark, but I could see light under the door.

Thunder rumbled overhead. Lightning flashed through the window, momentarily casting shadows about the room. My hair and clothes were wet, so I knew I hadn’t been here very long. I attempted to sit up to get off the bed, but pain held me back.

Darkness closed in again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Loud voices broke through my brain fog.

A man and woman were arguing. I couldn’t make out their words, but they were angry with each other. I tried to call out, but my mouth was incredibly dry. I barely heard the sound myself.

My mind focused on my body. My clothes were drier now, and there was no pain. No pain! The relief was overwhelming, but it was short lived. The minute I moved, it returned to flood my body.

Tears slipped out, but I wasn’t really crying. I was too weak and tired to cry.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Someone shook my shoulder.

“Can you wake up, dear?”

The voice was female and non-threatening.

I opened my eyes, but only one of them opened fully. Sunlight poured into the room, making it even more difficult to keep the eye open. I blinked both of them several times before they cooperated.

I turned my head to see a middle-aged woman standing near the bed. She was wearing a dress and a full apron. Her face showed kindness.

“My name’s Martha,” she said. “I’m here to help.”

I noticed a first aid kit at the foot of the bed.

“Where’s my husband?” I asked.

She smiled warmly. “Let’s get you fixed up a bit, and then we’ll talk about your husband.”

The woman poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the dresser and handed it to me. The water felt wonderful in my dry mouth, but I could only manage to swallow a few sips.

I glanced down at my ankle and saw my shoes had been removed, and my right ankle was at least three times its normal size.

“My ankle is sprained,” I told the woman, “and I think I have appendicitis. I’ve had pain in my side for the past two days, and it’s worse now. I don’t know if it’s inflamed or if it already burst, but I can’t move.”

She showed signs of being flustered, even fearful. “My son might not be back for a while,” she said. “He snapped a picture of you, and he’s out asking around if anyone knows you.”

“I’m staying at Emily and Dan Boling’s lodge. Do you know it?” I asked.

“Of course, I do,” she said. “But I’m afraid that’s the last place my son will look. No one stays there anymore.”

“Can I use your phone?” I asked. “I can call home collect and have someone get in touch with the lodge.”

“I’m sorry, dear,” she said. “We don’t have a telephone. Let’s just make you as comfortable as we can until we find your people for you. We’ll work it out when my son gets back.”

She set to work wrapping my ankle and foot. She left the room for a few minutes and returned with several bags of frozen vegetables to put around my ankle.

“How did I get here?” I asked.

“We thought a tree came down on our chicken coop during the storm,” she said. “My son went out to investigate and found you lying on the ground. We couldn’t imagine how you ended up in our yard.”

“The Sasquatch,” I said. “It put me there.”

She patted me on the arm and said, “There’s no such thing as a Sasquatch, dear.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue with her. I distinctly remember seeing the Sasquatch mere moments before I passed out at the cabin. I even had a fuzzy recollection of it carrying me.

She put several pills into my hand. My first instinct was to deny them, but something in me hoped they would help with the pain. She hadn’t hurt me yet, so I downed all of them.

It wasn’t long before I drifted off into a deep sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~
~

More pills. The woman woke me to press more pills into my hand. This was at least the fourth time she had given them to me. Her clothing alarmed me. She was wearing a different dress and apron than I remembered. Had I really been in and out of consciousness for an entire day? Where was help? Where was Mick?

My pain had diminished greatly, so I assumed some of the pills were definitely for pain. How did she have so many pills in the first place? Fear crept into my mind.

I popped the pills into my mouth and tucked them here, there, and under my tongue. When she handed the glass of water to me, I pretended to swallow all of them in one big gulp. I settled my head on the pillow and closed my eyes. I was perfectly still as I pretended to go right back to sleep.

When I heard the door close, I spit all of the pills into my hand and shoved them under the pillow. I took another sip of water from the glass on the nightstand.

My heart and mind raced. Was I a prisoner here? Had these people kidnapped me? Would I ever see Lizzie or Mick again? My eyes filled with tears.

The house was quiet, but an occasional noise let me know Martha was moving around. I was careful not to move, and I held back tears for fear I would end up sobbing.

The bedroom door opened. I did my best to breathe as if I were sleeping. It closed a few moments later, and I heard another door bang shut. There were no more sounds of movement in the house, and I assumed Martha went out. I sat up on the edge of the bed and waited for a bout of dizziness to pass. I desperately needed to find the bathroom, and I wanted to look outside to see if I could determine where I was.

I stood on my good leg and hopped twice to grab onto of the edge of the dresser. I reached out and opened the door. “Martha,” I called out. “I need help. Where’s your bathroom?”

It was a silly thing to ask, because I could see it was directly across the hall from me, but I wanted to be certain I was alone in the house.

Two more hops, and I was in the bathroom. I flipped the light switch. The decor was vaguely familiar, and I assumed Martha had previously brought me in here. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was matted and my face dirty.

When I finished my business, I washed my hands and used cold water to wipe some of the dirt from my face. The coolness helped to eliminate more of the drugged feeling.

Using the walls as support, I hopped a few steps at a time until I was in the kitchen. I looked out the window into the backyard and saw a small grassy area surrounded by forest. There weren’t any downed trees, and there was no sign of a chicken coop. Why did she lie about that?

Standing at the window, I noticed the pain in my side had become a dull ache. The reduced pain gave me hope that the trouble might not be my appendix after all.

I looked around the room. The counters held more junk than dishes, and I spotted three prescription bottles. The pills were for Ramsey Otis. One was a strong painkiller, and one was an antibiotic. The last bottle was a sedative. No wonder I had been sleeping for so long.

I picked up the bottle with the painkillers again. The dose was one every twelve hours. She had given me four of them so far. Four! Had I been here for more than forty-eight hours? Why hadn’t anyone come for me?

Panic set in. I frantically searched the table and countertops for anything that would tell me where I was and what day it was. There was nothing. I hopped into the living room to look for a newspaper, but the room was clean and tidy. I pulled back the curtain and peered out the window to see a long driveway leading down to a dirt road. Across the road was the edge of a heavily wooded area that bordered a farm.

I had no idea where I was.

I turned from the window and lost my balance with the first hop. I pitched forward onto the carpet. There was pain, but it wasn’t nearly as sharp as it had been before. I rolled over with the intention of grabbing onto the easy chair to pull myself up, but instead, I screamed when I was suddenly face-to-face with a Sasquatch – stuffed into a shopping bag!

I pulled myself into a sitting position and stared at the bag. It took a moment before my brain registered the bag held a costume. The Sasquatch wasn’t real.

I was reminded of the morning in the cove when Darby and I had seen it. That’s why it seemed non aggressive – because it was. But how did the person wearing it make the horrible screaming sound? And if there was a man in the costume, was he the one who saved me from Ralph? If the Sasquatch was a Good Samaritan, why was I being held here like a prisoner? I picked up the shopping bag to set it beside me.

Before I could pull the costume out and look at it, I cried out with relief. A telephone was on the floor. A pink princess telephone. This was another lie Martha had told. Why wouldn’t she let me use her telephone?

I lifted the handset. There was no dial tone. I checked the cord in back and saw it was plugged in. On hands and knees, I followed the cord to the other end, where it lay on the floor next to the sofa. It had been unplugged from the wall outlet. I plugged it in and scooted back to lean against the chair again. I let out a small sigh of joy when I heard the dial tone.

It never occurred to me to try 911. I automatically placed a collect call to Detective Bentley at the Carbide City Police Department. The officer on the other end of the call responded, “I’m sorry. We don’t accept collect calls.” The operator refused to place the call again.

I sat stunned for a moment. The woman had given my name to the officer. I couldn’t imagine there weren’t standing orders to put any call from me through to the Detective. I never called him unless it was an emergency.

I struggled to recall his personal cell phone number. It wasn’t a difficult number. The area code and exchange were easy to remember, because they were standard for our area. But what were the last four digits? It was something as simple as one, two, three, four. Why did I have to have a mental block on this now?

I struggled to pull up a memory. Before Mick had become friends with the detective and put him on speed dial, he entered Detective Bentley’s number on his phone one evening. He muttered under his breath, “Christmas.” That was it! Christmas – twelve twenty-five. One, two, two, five.

I dialed zero again and placed the collect call. The detective answered his phone and agreed to accept the charges.

“Susan, I thought you were supposed to be home yesterday. Where are you that you’re calling me collect?”

Yesterday? Did he say yesterday? If that was true, I had been held captive for longer than I thought. Mick would be worried to death.

I could barely speak. “Chuck,” I said. The desperation in my voice was evident. “What day is it?”

“It’s Sunday,” he said, “Where are you? Are you all right?”

“No. No,” I said. “I’m not all right. We’re still in Canada, and I’ve been abducted and drugged. Mick doesn’t know where I am, and neither do I.” I started crying. “Chuck, please, tell me what to do.”

“Aw, hell, Susan,” he exclaimed. “I thought we were past all this.”

My tears came harder, but I knew he wasn’t really mad. The concern in his voice was evident over the complaint.

“Ok,” he said. “First things first. Are you in a safe place?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I’m in someone’s house. There’s no one here right now, but I haven’t been restrained. I have a sprained ankle and probably appendicitis, so they know I can’t go anywhere.”

“Have you looked outside?” he asked. “Is there anything that would give you a clue as to your whereabouts?”

“There are trees,” I said. “Trees, trees, and more trees. And a dirt road. And a farm. That’s it. I could be anywhere in all of Canada for all I know.” My voice bordered on hysterical.

“Susan,” he said sharply. “Calm down. Are there any signs along the road?”

I shook my head.

“Susan? Signs along the road?” he asked again.

It was the word
sign
that gave me pause. “No,” I said. “There aren’t any signs along the road, but the farm across the street has a barn with a tobacco advertisement on the side. I didn’t recognize the brand, but it had a black background, and it reminded me of the old Mail Pouch ads on old barns in the states. And the farm borders the edge of the forest. I don’t know what color this house is, but the driveway up to it is kind of long. It’s heavily wooded behind the house, too.”

“That’s good, Susan,” he said. “That helps. Is the telephone number on the phone you’re using?”

I checked the phone, hoping to find the number in the center of the dial. “No,” I said. “There’s no number.”

“Do you know the telephone number where you were staying with Mick?” he asked.

“They don’t have a phone there,” I said. “They only have email. Even for emergencies.”