Dead Even (28 page)

Isaac stopped talking and stared thoughtfully at the side of the van, lost in his thoughts. “At least I don't
think
he knows. Sometimes I've wondered, though. Surely he suspects.” Again he laughed, hysterically. “But he would never tell—never give me away.”

Isaac returned to his task, and Jason lay there, wide-eyed and frightened. If Isaac ever found out he was
not
his son, he was going to be in a lot of trouble. Maybe he would have a chance to make a run for it when they left the van.

Isaac reached over for the bottle of chloroform. “Just this one last time, Jason. Then I promise not to use it again.”

“No,” Jason screamed. “Don't use that stuff! I can't breathe! Please!”

Isaac clamped the rag over Jason's face, cutting off his protests. He held the squirming boy tight until he went limp in his arms. “Daddy's sorry, Jason. But he must be careful, mustn't take chances.” He leaned down and kissed Jason's cheek. “It will be all right. Daddy won't hurt you.”

*   *   *

Audra ignored the burning pain in her chest and the throbbing in her legs. She was a runner. She was used to running with pain. The pain meant nothing. It would not kill her. She had finished many a race with her body so exhausted she was certain she couldn't move one leg in front of the other. But she had.

“Don't give in to the pain. That's the difference between a winner and a loser.” She could almost hear the voice of her old high school coach. She would not give in. She would not slow to a walk. She had to get to a telephone. Call the police.

It didn't make any difference anymore what Isaac had done to her. That was over. Ancient history. All that was important now was saving Jason.

She had been so stupid. How could she have baited Isaac like that? Why hadn't she been content to let the police handle it?

Run. Keep running. Put one leg down in front of the other. Don't give in to the pain. Don't give in to the cold. Keep going. Just keep on moving.

Ahead of her, Audra could see telephone lines. She was almost to the crossroad.
Right. I have to turn right. Back to the west.

She had to keep moving—keep her legs working. If she stopped, she knew the cramping would consume her. Her eyes searched for a distant light as she jogged around the corner and headed west. There was nothing.

She was still on a country road, but at least now it could definitely be called a “road.” Surely it wouldn't be long now. There had to be farms peppering the area.

Keep going. You can do it. You're almost there.
She blinked back tears as she continued on.

Jason's face seemed to swim before her eyes, pushing her forward.
Oh, God,
she prayed.
Don't let Isaac find out Jason is not really his son. Please keep him safe.

*   *   *

Philomena sat sipping her last cup of coffee for the evening, listening to the radio. All of the roads were open, but motorists were being advised to take it easy on the snow-packed highways. She reached over and turned the volume up, as the announcer spoke of a missing person's report.

“And now we're asking all Hays residents to be on the lookout for a woman and boy, last seen sledding at the overpass. The woman is Audra Delaney, age twenty-seven, a kindergarten teacher at William's Academy. Missing also is one of her students, Jason Miller. Jason is five years old and the son of Katherine Miller. The vehicle Miss Delaney was using was found at the overpass, with her purse and other belongings still inside. If anyone has information about the whereabouts of Miss Delaney or Jason Miller, they are asked to contact Bess Truman at the Rock Road Inn. She is waiting there with Jason's mother, Katherine, for any news.”

Philomena sat her cup of coffee down on the end table. “Dear, dear. To be lost on such a night!” She reached over and picked up her rosary. At least there was something she could do.

Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN

Isaac plopped down on the attic floor, exhaustion overcoming him. He would have to wait a minute before pulling up the stepladder and inserting the false ceiling.

Carrying the boy two blocks had been bad enough, but it was nothing compared to the struggle he had lifting Jason's inert body into the attic.

The boy was coming out from under the effects of the chloroform. He was stirring slightly, making small whimpering noises. It wouldn't be long. Isaac forced his tired body back up to finish his chores.

He hated to take the time and energy to climb back down and run the sweeper, but he was afraid he might have knocked plaster loose getting the boy up. He lowered himself down and started the dreary task.

Jason awakened and tried to look around. At first he couldn't remember what had happened, or why he was in this strange dark place. He shook his head, trying to clear it. He could hear the sound of a vacuum, and crawled over to the light coming from an opening in the floor. He looked down and saw Isaac at work on the carpet. He drew back, startled, remembering.

Isaac glanced up, aware of movement. “Jason? Are you awake now?”

Jason didn't answer.

Isaac's voice became harsh. “Jason! Answer me!”

Jason cleared his throat. “Yes—Father—I'm awake.”

“I'll be up in a minute. There is a light located in the middle of the room, on the orange crate. You may turn it on.”

“Yes, Father.” Jason crawled over and found the light. He was surprised at the blue light which bathed the small room, and he lost no time looking for another exit. A window. Anything.

Isaac hollered up at him. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Jason yelled back.

“Yes, what?” Isaac said. “I like it when you call me Father. You will continue doing that. Understood?”

Jason raised his eyebrows. Isaac's voice had taken on a slightly different tone. He didn't know what it meant, but he decided he had better watch his step. Aloud he said, “Of course, Father. Anything you say.”

There was no other way out of the small room. No place even to hide. Jason's eyes flew around the room, memorizing the contents, looking for anything he might be able to use at a later time. He saw a small portable radio on a shelf, and what looked like one of those things that intercepted police calls.

Isaac pulled himself back up into the attic, brought the ladder up, then inserted the false ceiling carefully. He sat down cross-legged on the floor and smiled at Jason. “Isn't it wonderful? Our own special place. No one knows about this room except the two of us.”

“Why?” Jason asked. “Why do you have it?”

Isaac rose and walked slowly around the attic, brushing his hand over his possessions. At last he turned to Jason. “It comforts me,” he said simply. “I have another place—the one I told you about. But it isn't fixed as nicely as here. Hopefully, we won't have to use it.” He ran his hand down a row of books placed in a small wooden bookcase. “Did you see these, Jason?”

Jason shook his head.

“I have many of the classics. I'm certain you will find plenty of reading material here.”

“What about school? I don't want to fall behind in my classes.”

Isaac shook his head. “No school. I can teach you everything you need to know here at home. Like my father taught me.” He picked one of the books from the shelf. “I'm very intelligent, you know. And I can see how bright you are. You're a chip off the old block, eh, son? I saw the math problems in your notebook. You're quite advanced for your age.”

Isaac went over and put his arm around Jason's shoulder. “Just don't ever think you can outsmart me. We will make a good team as long as you always obey me.” His fingers dug into Jason's shoulders as he turned the boy to him. “Remember that. If you ever try to get away from me, I will kill you. Do you understand me?”

Jason tried to fight back the tears that were brimming in his eyes. He wanted his mother. Would he ever see her again? His voice broke as he answered Isaac. “Yes, F-Father. I understand.”

*   *   *

Katherine Miller's hands were clenched tightly together as she talked with Bess. She felt as though if she relaxed them, she would start screaming and never stop. Jason. Her baby. Out in the night somewhere.

Bess reached over and covered Katherine's hands with her own. “We'll find them. I promise you. I called all the radio stations again, and they promised to repeat the announcement every fifteen minutes. All the snow crews are on the lookout, and the police. We'll surely hear somethin' before long.”

Katherine turned large, soulful eyes on Bess. “And you're
certain
this man who was after Miss Delaney is in jail? It couldn't be him?”

Bess shook her head positively. “No, no. I talked with the police myself. They got that bastard locked up tight. Audra and your boy—they just must've left with someone else. Maybe got stuck in the snow somewhere.” Even as she spoke the words, Bess had a hard time believing them. It didn't make sense. There was nothin' wrong with her car—no reason for Audra to go off with someone else. And why would she have left her purse behind? No. Somethin' wasn't right. Somethin' sure as hell wasn't right!

*   *   *

Audra could see a pinpoint of light ahead. By now she could hardly feel her legs as they pumped up and down automatically. She was near exhaustion, and knew it.

It took fifteen more minutes, long minutes, before she was certain. Yes. It was a farmhouse. She entered the driveway, and made it to the porch before collapsing. She tried to stand again, but her legs wouldn't hold her. She crawled to the door, as piercing stabs of pain assailed her legs. She pounded on the bottom of the door.

The old man who opened the door looked for all the world like an angel to Audra. “Help me! Please help me!” she whispered.

Thomas Reivich knelt down and pulled the matted shirt away from Audra's face. “Lord help me, what do we have here?”

Audra raised her head. “I need to use your phone—call the police.” She tried again to get to her feet.

Thomas slipped an arm around Audra's waist. “Hang on to me. Let's get you in the house.” He pulled Audra up, supporting her as they stumbled into his home.

When he headed toward the couch, Audra shook her head. “No. Please. Just help me—walk—I've been running—legs are cramping.”

She forced her legs to move, wincing in pain as her muscles knotted and unknotted. “It's okay now. I can stand. Please call the police for me.”

Thomas nodded. “You have an accident?”

Audra shook her head. “No. I was kidnapped. He—he still has Jason. Please—just call. Hurry.”

It crossed Thomas's mind that the woman was delirious. Kidnapped? Well, whether she was right or wrong about that, one thing was certain. The police
did
need to be called.

He went into the kitchen and picked up the telephone.
Dear God! The line is dead.
He clicked the button up and down, then listened again. Nothing. “The phone lines are down,” he yelled in to Audra. “Happens sometimes when we get a bad storm like this.”

He walked back into the living room. “I don't imagine they'll be out long. Why don't I find you some dry clothes in the meantime. And how about some hot soup?”

Audra looked around, wildly. “No! My God, no! That man has Jason. I have to get to a phone. Get to town.”

“Now, hold on,” Thomas said carefully. “Don't go getting all riled up. I'm certain the phone will be back on in a few minutes. Always is. You—you've been through quite an ordeal. You need to just take it easy now.”

Audra could tell that the old man was having a hard time believing her story. She crossed over to Thomas and put her hands on his chest. She tried to speak calmly, rationally. “Listen to me. My name is Audra Delaney. I teach kindergarten at William's Academy in Hays. I was with one of my students, Jason Miller. We were kidnapped by a crazy man named Isaac Simpson. I think he was going to take Jason back to his house. He—he left me to die. I've been running for probably five miles to get help. You're it! You have got to help me!”

Thomas stared at the young woman, unsure of what to do.

“I am not a crazy person!” Audra tried to keep from yelling. “There is a five-year-old boy in extreme danger! I've got to get help.”

Thomas nodded his head, coming to a decision. “All right, little lady. What do you want me to do?”

Audra let out a long, shuddering breath.
Thank God!
“Do you have a car I could use? I'll go on into Hays, and you stay here and keep trying to get through to the police. I'll write down what you should tell them.”

Thomas thought of his new Ford pickup in the garage. “You'll have better luck on these roads if you take my pickup. The back is loaded with firewood, and the extra weight will help you in this snow.”

Audra closed her eyes, briefly. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for helping me.”

*   *   *

Isaac crossed the attic and turned on the police scanner. “Have you ever seen one of these, son? Handy little gadgets. Let's me know what is going on all over town. Sometimes I listen in for hours.”

Jason walked over tentatively. “How does it work?”

Isaac turned up the volume, and Jason could hear a woman's voice. “Hays P.D. to 14, there is a 1047 at the corner of Twenty-Seventh and Vine. Three cars involved. We need traffic control. Please respond.”

“Can you talk to them?” Jason asked.

Isaac turned to Jason and smiled. “No. All this thing does is let me know what the police are doing. I'm certain they have no way of knowing about me, but on the off chance that bitch made it out of the country, I'll leave it on. If we have to, we can always go to my other place. There is no way anyone would find us there.”

*   *   *