Innocence Taken (20 page)

The man drove all night. He was exhausted. In just over eight hours, he had made it past Nashville. No cops with their flashing lights glared behind him. In fact, the cops paid no attention to him at all. It was as if he did not exist. He liked it that way.

The pink rays of sunrise flowed across the brightening sky, chasing away the darkness of the night. He admired the beauty of it as he drove. The sound of a blaring horn brought him out of his reverie; he had almost fallen asleep behind the wheel. He straightened and waved at the driver of the other vehicle as it passed. He pulled the truck to the side of the road. Within minutes, the other car's rear lights were nothing but specks on the horizon.

To leave the truck where it was for too long was to invite disaster. The owners may have already reported it stolen. The cops may already be on the lookout for it. As tired as he was, he knew he had to keep going. Pulling the gear into drive, he merged back onto the highway.

After driving another fifteen minutes, he was almost to the point of finding a spot to park when one of the blue highway signs flew past. Several emblems showing which food places were off this exit caught his attention. He sighed with relief. Some strong black coffee would help revive him. He exited and followed the signs. When he parked, it took some effort to get his legs to answer.

The coolness of air conditioning hit him when he entered the building. He shivered. Walking up to the counter, he smiled at the older woman standing there. He was saddened that one of the pretty teenagers weren't there; they were probably getting ready for school. Placing his order, he glanced around the sitting area.

An elderly couple sat at one table, a man in a suit at another. Tucked in a corner was a woman who appeared to be in her twenties. She had long straight dirty blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her figure was thin, almost too thin, but her eyes were beautiful. He had to have her. Her attention was focused on the paper in her hand, she was not aware of him watching her.

The crinkling of a bag being set on the counter drew his attention back. He smiled as he paid for the food. Moving to the side so others could order, he opened the drinking area of the lid and took a sip. As predicted, the contents were strong and hot. With a final glance at the woman, he left.

He sat in the truck eating his breakfast and watched the door leading out He knew the woman had to leave sometime. He only hoped she would exit on this side of the building. As the last bite of his sandwich disappeared, she walked out and started toward an SUV parked near by. He washed down the food with a gulp of coffee and started the engine. She got in, took a second to reposition herself, started the engine and backed out. She was still oblivious to the man interested in her. Her mind was on the things she wanted to accomplish today, not on her surroundings.

Clouds had moved in while he was inside the building. They grew dark and ominous. A bright flash of light caused him to close his eyes. He opened them when a loud clap of thunder rattled the truck's windows. It was going to rain. The man hoped it would wait.

The woman turned right and went under the bridge for the highway above. The man kept a discrete distance between them. He did not want her to notice him yet. At a stop light, she again turned right. She was heading away from the small town, away from all the traffic and unwanted attention. She was heading home.

For Miranda, the daily trip to the local fast food restaurant was a way to get out of the house and mingle with people. She lived alone with a dog and a cat to keep her company. Even though she went out each morning, she seldom spoke to anyone. She was severely shy. It was something she had never outgrown. Working from home was a way to pay the bills and avoid all the crowds.

She was about a mile from home, braking for the stop sign at the corner, when her SUV lurched forward. She was shocked by its suddenness. She glanced into the rear view mirror. A truck with a camper shell on it was behind her. It was so close; she had a hard time seeing the hood in the mirror. The driver was getting out of the vehicle. He walked up to her, a look of embarrassment etched on his face. He tried to talk through the closed window. She couldn't hear him very well. She cracked the window open.

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention. Are you okay?"

She nodded her head yes. She was afraid to talk to him; he was so good looking. His dark eyes were mesmerizing. They held her gaze. She felt as if they were seeing into her soul. She turned away. It was her turn to be embarrassed.

"I'm afraid I did a small amount of damage to you bumper. I'll pay for it. It was my fault after all."

When she felt she could look at him again, she turned back. He smiled. She melted. He stepped back, waiting for her to get out and inspect the bumper. She hesitated, aware that the world was full of sickos who would love to get their hands on a woman like her. Taking another look at him: his innocent smile, his polite manners, and the fact that they were out in the open for others to see; she decided it was okay to get out.

Several flashes blinked above. Thunder rolled across the area, seeming to answer the light. Miranda looked up at the increasingly darkening sky. She liked thunderstorms, but in the safety of her own home, not on the side of the road, exposed to the elements, next to a strange man He indicated for her to lead the way to the bumper, something she wasn't used to. She always followed, never led. She bowed her head and moved to the back of the SUV.

A dent was on either side of the silver bumper about a third of the way in from the edges. She saw they were caused by the pieces sticking out of the truck's bumper to prevent it from becoming damaged. They worked. The trucks bumper was smooth.

A flash, followed immediately by a loud clap of thunder that sounded like it was directly overhead, almost made her jump out of her skin. She let out a little squeal. The man was beside her. He did not touch her, for which she was grateful. She did not think she could handle it. A few fat drops of rain began to pelt them. They were soon joined by many more.

"I think we should sit in you vehicle to exchange information, don't you?"

Again, she could only nod her head. She cursed her shyness. If only she was like the rest of the family, she would give this guy her phone number. She would invite him to her place for lunch and hope things progressed from there. As it was, she remained silent.

She returned to the driver's seat and unlocked the passenger door. The man got in and shook himself. He ran his fingers through his dark wet hair. The muscles in his arms rippled with the movement. She watched at a sideways glance, too embarrassed to do anything else. He smiled at her. She smiled back. Shifting slightly in the seat, he reached for his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"I don't have a pen. I hope you won't mind writing all the information down."

"S ... s..sure.” She grimaced at the stutter that came out of her mouth.

"You live close?"

"Just up the road.” She was finally able to make her voice work.

"I have family out here somewhere. I was trying to find their house on my map and wasn't paying attention to the road, hence the reason why we met. You're family live with you?"

"Only Ralph and Mr. Cuddles."

"Ralph and ... Mr. Cuddles?"

"Yea, my dog and cat. The rest of my family lives up north. I moved here to get away from them."

"Sometimes it's nice to get away from family.” He became distant, as if remembering something from his past. Realizing the woman was watching him, concern in her eyes, he flashed her one of his wonderful smiles. “Oh well, back to business."

He pulled out a card and extended it to her. Her hand shook as she reached for it. Never in her life had she remembered anyone letting her decide what to do, or even asking her how she was doing. Her family had always made her decisions for her. She never had a voice in anything. It felt weird to have a say now. She wasn't sure if she liked it.

The moment her hand touched the paper, his hand flew up and hit her across the face. Her head bounced off the window. Spots of light juggled around before her eyes. They mingled with the lightening outside, making the world a little too bright. She looked at the man, shocked. Before she had time to react, he hit her with his fist. The lights dimmed and the world outside disappeared.

The man hugged Miranda close when she slumped over. He smelled her hair, it smelled like strawberries. He pulled her slight body onto his and shifted her enough so that he sat behind the wheel while she remained in the passenger seat. It was still early. No one drove past during the altercation. No one saw what happened. The desire to leave crept into his being, but he had to make sure the woman was restrained before doing so. If she awoke while he was driving, she might fight him or try to escape.

Reaching over the seat, he rummaged around the back area until he found some rope in a small storage compartment. He used it to bind the woman's extremities. He leaned her back, her head resting on the support behind it, and groped her small chest. Unsatisfied, he unzipped her jeans and pulled them down slightly. He pulled her panties away from her body and saw the bush of blonde hair. He pushed the soft cloth down next to the jeans and ran his fingers through it. A rush of excitement surged through his groin when he touched her vaginal lips.. He let go, leaving the pants open so he could see the hair while he drove. He would have time later to give her immeasurable pleasure.

The windows fogged due to their body heat filling the small, enclosed area. The man clicked her seatbelt into place and started the engine. He turned on the defogger. Pulling a u-turn, he made his way back to the highway. The newer model SUV responded smoothly and with power when he pressed the gas pedal down.

He left the truck sitting in the middle of the road. He didn't care. He had something better; he had a vehicle no one would be looking for. He also had a way to reduce the pent up pleasure that was inside. As if responding to his thoughts, the area around his crotch grew. He released his swollen penis and stroked it lovingly, matching the up and down motion with the rhythm of the wipers.. The dark tinted windows prevented any drivers from seeing what he did.

The man knew his intended love would not mind if he had sex with other women. If he remained too pent up, as he was now, he would not be able to perform at his best.. He wanted to be ready. He wanted to make her happy. He wanted to spend the rest of his natural born days with the woman from the television, with The One, with the woman who called herself Nature Kranderson.

The mere mention of her name caused him to soar with happiness. His search was almost over. Finally, he could have a life free of unrealistic expectations, free of bothersome people. He and Nature would live in his cabin, without the need for clothes, without interference from the rest of the world.. He would make love to her often. He would make sure she remained filled with pleasure. And, he would never have to worry about hunting again, unless she said it was okay. That last thought was the one that kept him going, kept him driving through the exhaustion. He would stop soon to rest ... and release. Until then, he would close the distance between them.

Behind them, in a little home, a cat and dog waited for their owner to return.

Nature and Web sipped on their cups of coffee when Franklin entered. Making his way through the diner, they could see the frustration in his step and the frown covering his face. He grabbed a chair from another table and brought it to theirs. He refused to sit next to either occupant in the corner booth. The tired waitress came up and took his order for coffee. The detective wasn't interested in food. After she left, he crossed his arms in front and glared at them.

"Well ... are you willing to talk now?"

"In due time, Detective. In due time,” Nature said.

"Have a piece of the pie, Franklin. It's pretty good.” Web scooped another chunk of apple pie onto his fork and shoved it into his mouth.

"While you're pulling this bullshit, another girl could be tortured and killed.” His words came out in a harsh whisper. He did not want the other patrons to hear what he said.

Web swallowed the food and said, “Maybe you should have thought of that yourself, Detective, when you were pulling your ... as you called it ... bullshit with me."

"I told you not to interfere, but you wouldn't listen."

"Listen to what ... your ignorance?"

"Sheriff Westerly, if you don't stop...” Franklin shut his mouth when the waitress returned with his coffee.

The waitress arched an eyebrow as she set the cup down in front of Franklin. She glanced at each person before stepping away, returning to the counter for the tray of food waiting to be delivered.

Nature watched her pick the tray up with ease. She carried it to another table and set the plates before each of the occupants seated there. When the woman shot a quick glance at their table, she smiled.

Nature only half listened to the men as they argued. She reflected on what the detective had said about another girl being tortured and killed. He was right; they were being asses. Interrupting the men before blows happened; she cleared her throat to get their attention.

"Gentlemen, if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to the subject.” She set her cup down, but kept both hands wrapped around it. “About the van ... the man who drove it was dark in nature."

Franklin sat forward, his argument with Web forgotten, eager to hear what Nature had to say. “Dark. As in how?"

Web kept a close eye on the woman across the table. If he saw one iota of distress, he would end this. He didn't care if it meant causing a scene in the diner.

"Dark as in his soul.” She shivered. “I think his appearance matches his inner self."

"What leads you to that conclusion?” The detective knew about the inability to see the kidnapper. He tried to guide her into noticing something that would help.

"The haze, where his head appears, is darker than the rest of him. I don't know if it's because of dark hair or because he is so evil.” She shrugged her shoulders. “He seems to be of average build. I can't make out much because he is so shrouded.” She looked at Franklin, “I do get a sense of searching. As if he is looking for something, something he has not been able to locate for a long time.” Taking a sip of the lukewarm liquid still cupped in her hands, she added, “Detective, I haven't mentioned this before but...” She hesitated, “he has killed many times, at least eight times that I know of."