Lillian Duncan - Until Death Do Us Part (13 page)

CHAPTER 34

His arm snaked around her neck, cutting off the air supply.

Reggie kicked at the person without success. She
attempted to turn toward him and pushed at him but he was bigger and stronger. He kept a firm grasp on her arms without much effort.

She choked out,
“can’t breathe.”

“Then s
top fighting.”

Her body stilled. He loo
sened his hold on her neck. Air. Taking another deep breath, then she kicked at him again. The back of her foot made contact with his knee. He uttered an oath and his grip on her neck tightened. He lifted her off her feet.

She screamed for the dogs. “Patches. Snappy. Protect.”

The dogs didn’t come.

She twisted her head toward her captor. A
ski mask over his face prevented her from seeing him.

He laughed. “Those dogs won’t be protecting you or anyone else
ever again.”  For emphasis, he applied more pressure to her throat.

She moaned.

“Now you be a good girl. And there won’t be any problems.”

The man spoke with a Hispanic accent—a bad imitation of one at any rate. Fake. She struggled against him but the moment she did, another pain shot through her shoulder. Tears filled her eyes.
God, help me.

She kicked and struggled, but didn’t come close to landing one.
After realizing it wasn’t helping, she stilled. He loosened his hold on her neck and she managed to ask, “Where’s Billy? Where’s Theresa?”

“If I wanted you to know that, chica, I’d tell you.”

More of the phony accent.

W
hat was going? Where was everybody?

The man dragged her through the dining room and ba
ck to the master bedroom. She screamed but it didn’t seem to bother him. He only laughed more. Once in the bedroom, he pushed her back on the bed and laid down on top of her. The smell of horse filled her nose.

She gagged.

Her mind filled with terror.
Not that. Not that. Please God, not that.

Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, she brought both arms from behind her back and pushed at him.
He shifted his weight and flipped her over on her stomach. The next thing she knew he had both of her hands held tight in his one hand, then taped her hands behind her back.

“Don’t worry, chica
. I’m too busy.” His warm breath burned her neck. She cringed. He jumped off the bed and turned her around.

She kicked up and her foot landed under his chin. He grabbed her foot and twisted. More pain. She screamed. In spite of the tears filling her eyes, she focused in on her attacker. She memorized every detail. Couldn’t see his face thanks to the mask, but as he held on to her foot, she saw a Bible verse tattooed on his upper arm.

Like this man even read a Bible. How dare him put God’s Word on his body and then go about doing evil. What a creep!

“Look, I already told you that I’m not going to hurt you. So, chill out.” The fake accent disappeared
, but his next words were thick with it again. “I’m going to tie you up and do what I came to do and then leave. Your friends will be back sooner or later and everyone will be happy. Well, almost everyone. Not sure about the sidekick. He may not have survived his little surprise.”

The sidekick. That ha
d to be Dylan. What had he done to Dylan? Why wasn’t anybody here? She glared at him. “What did you do to him?”

The man shrugged. He pulled out a roll of black electrical tape. As he wrapped her feet, he said. “I didn’t do nothing to him. He was alive and well the last time I seen him. But whatever happened to him, it was his own fault. He should have minded his own business and stayed out of mine.”

She kicked out at him but he was ready this time and simply grabbed her feet and laughed. He loomed back over her. “Mmm. I think the closet will do nicely, don’t you.” He picked her up and carried her across the room. He tossed her in the closet as if she were a sack of potatoes.

He slammed the door shut.

Her prison turned dark.

****

The vehicle stopped.

Arms gra
bbed Theresa from where she laid.

“Let’
s go.”

The man kept a firm grasp on her arm as he guided her forward. After a few steps
, he turned her around and pushed her against a wall. “Sit. If you try to run, I’ll shoot you in the back and it won’t be hard since I don’t have a blindfold on.”

She slid down and sat.

This was the third time they’d moved her. She couldn’t even begin to imagine where she was. It was quiet. No traffic around.

At least they’d fed her. She was grateful for that. She assumed they weren’t going to kill her. Or what would be the point of feeding her so that gave her some sense of peace.

A grinding noise made her jump.

No, not a grinding more like a drill
or a saw. What was he doing?

The noise came to a stop and then he lifted her up by her arms. “
Okay, this is it.” He walked her into a room and again pushed her against another wall. “Sit.”

She did as she was told.

“Nothing to panic about. Just sit here and be a good girl. This will all be over in a few days.” 

The door slammed.

And then she was alone.

CHAPTER 34

Fear crowded in like weeds in her flower beds. Dark. Couldn’t breathe. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths. Reggie struggled to regain her composure. It wasn’t the first time she’d been locked in a closet. But she wasn’t a child now, and she didn’t believe in monsters any longer.

At least not the
kind that scared children.

Unfortunately
the monster who locked her in here was much more real—and evil. And he was still in the house. She could hear him moving around.

But her God was stronger and more powerful than any person, no matter how evil.

Her breathing slowed.

That’s it. Focus on God and His goodness
. Not on her present circumstances. This was only a temporary problem. As Dylan always said, it would all work out, one way or the other.

She searched for the verse. Romans 8: 28.
And we know that in all things God works for the good
of those who love him,
who
have been called
according to his purpose.
She loved God and He would work this out.

It was a promise and He kept his promises.

Her mind slowed and she was able to think clearly again.

She smiled.

Apparently the man hadn’t checked the closet before putting her in. As with all things, Billy never did anything small. Theresa’s closet was more like a small room. Not only were her shoes and clothes kept in it, but Theresa used it the way most people used a junk drawer.

There had to be something in here t
o help. If she was going to get out of the closet, she had to get the tape off her wrists. She could stand up and turn on the light. But if he came in and saw it, that wouldn’t be good.

The room would have to stay dark for the moment. And she needed to be quiet.
The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself. Using the wall as an anchor, she managed to stand up. She maneuvered her way through the closet, her hands searching for something—anything to help.

She lost track of time, but she knew people were still in the house. Their whispers reached her ears every now and then.

She moved from shelf to shelf, her fingers moving over objects. Her shoulders were killing her. Her fingers curled around a small object. A bottle. She picked it up, puzzling over the small object. Nail polish.

Where there was nail polish, there was a finger nail file. She put the bottle down and her fingers brushed over several other bottles and then she found it.

Her fingers touched cold metal. Cuticle scissors. Even better!

She
managed to pick up the tiny scissors. She maneuvered them into position and snip. It cut through. Surprised, she hadn’t actually thought it would work. It might take awhile, she hoped they wouldn’t break before she freed her hands.

B
anging started somewhere in the cabin. Startled, she jumped.

It sounded as if someone was hitting things with a sledge hammer. In the basement? Billy’s office was down there along with all his computers. Was that what this was all about? Billy’s computers.

Her heart skipped a beat.

That had to be it. Someone wanted Billy’s computers and they were willing to kill for it. Is that why no one was here? They’d already been…she couldn’t bring herself to think the words. Dylan wasn’t dead. She refused to believe such a thing.

Dylan and Billy were two of the brightest and most capable people she’d ever met. Between the two of them, they would stay safe.
Still, she closed her eyes and prayed. Harder than she ever had.

She kept snipping.

Snip. Pray. Snip. Pray.  After losing track of how many snips, she decided it was time to see if she could get it off her wrists. Summoning all her strength, she spread her hands in opposite directions.

Tape gave way but not enough. She took a deep breath and spread her arms again. She heard the rip of tape and then her arms were free.
Thank you.
She ripped at the tape circling her ankles.

Mor
e banging. What were they doing down there?

As much as she wanted to,
she didn’t dare leave as long as they were in the house. All her effort would be for naught, if they caught her sneaking out. Not to mention, she didn’t want to remind them she was there.

He might come back for her. Her skin still crawled from when the man laid on top of her. His smell. His breath. Repulsive. He’d enjoyed having that control over her. That
wasn’t hard to figure out.

Patience was a virtue.

Tired of the dark, she wondered if it would be all right to turn on the light.

Patience was a virtue.

Fine. No light.

If
he came back, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. Was there anything in here to protect herself? Maybe a gun? She discarded the thought. Theresa hated guns and insisted Billy keep them in his areas not hers.

She needed to get out of the closet, but how was she supposed to do that
while they were still here? They’d been here a long time. And it had been an even longer time since she’d eaten. Her blood sugar was on the downward swing and she needed food.

Even if she managed to kick the door down, he was still in the house
.

As quietly as possible, she scooted to the door and put her ear against it.

Talking, but she couldn’t make out the words.

Footsteps headed toward her and a moment later,
“Hey, you awake in there?” It wasn’t Mr. Fake Mexican accent. Another person. His voice was soft, almost a whisper. He almost sounded compassionate, sorry for what was happening.

She didn’t answer.

“I don’t know who you are. Nobody was supposed to be here. Nobody was supposed to get hurt. I’m sorry.” A pause. “Really sorry.”

What did he mean?

A moment later she understood.

The
nauseating smell of gasoline overpowered her senses.

The darkness and the silence closed in around her. She felt her ten-year old self screaming to take over.
No, I am not that scared little girl. I will not panic. God is with me.

She gagged but refused to succumb to her body’s wishes
.

Had to get out of this tomb.

She pushed against the door. It wouldn’t budge. Her fingers trailed down the door. Finding the knob, her fingers curled around it and turned. It turned easily. The door wasn’t locked. Then why wouldn’t it open?

She pushed again, only harder. It still wouldn’t move. Something must be blocking the door.  She moved backwards until the wall prevented her from moving. She took a deep breath…

Smoke.

Her pulse rate vaulted as the scent grew stronger.

With all her strength she charged forward, her shoulder leading the way. She winced as it came in contact with the door, but she felt a slight movement of the door. Moving quickly, she went to the wall again and smashed into the door again.

Pain shot through her shoulder and into her neck. A slight movement, but not enough. Sweat oozed from her pores as she body-slammed into the door again and again.

Her breathing grew ragged from the effort. She stopped to ca
tch her breath. As she sucked in air the coughing started.