Saving Me (Finding You #3) (9 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Kyle

Even though it was Sunday morning, Daniel and I made our way to the police station to find out what they were doing to find Dakota. I couldn’t take it anymore. There had been no updates at all overnight and it was doing my head in. Valuable time was being wasted. There must be something that could be done.

I hadn’t slept a wink. Zilch. Zippo. It was showing in the bags under my bloodshot eyes. I purchased a drive through coffee on our way in an attempt to rev me up a bit but the worry of Dakota’s disappearance thwarted that attempt.

I needed to call Dad to see if his friend Mike had any leads.

We also needed to retrieve Dakota’s Lexus from the old apartment complex and take it to the new house. First things first, though.

The gravity of the situation was starting to weigh heavy on Daniel too. The normally chirpy thirteen year old boy was somber and quiet as we parked outside the small police precinct not far from our local neighborhood and entered to find a one-man show. The boy hadn’t opened up too much about what was going through his mind but I could only imagine.

The officer looked up as we entered. “Hello. What can I do for you?”

“Hello. I’m Kyle Rutherford. I spoke with Officer Clarke yesterday about my missing wife and I’m here to find out how I can assist.”

The middle-aged man, slightly overweight with balding, greying hair, scratched his face as he scanned the desk that was littered with paperwork. “Ah, yes. Officer Clarke is off for the day, but I have a file here made up with some notes. He mentioned the case. Let me see.” He proceeded to open the file and flick through some pages as he picked up his coffee cup and took a long swig. “Missing since yesterday morning, one Dakota Livingston, female Caucasian, 32 years old, last seen exiting a Hollywood apartment complex with a male, also Caucasian, resembling her ex-husband John Hansford. Is that correct, sir?”

I nodded. “Yes, that’s correct. Officer Clarke was going to run a check on the license plate and get in contact with the Australian Federal Police about charges Mr. Hansford is wanted for there. Has he commented on any of that?”

“No sir.”

The officer puffed out some air and proceeded to spread the sheets of paper across his already messy desk to see if anything jumped out at him.

Daniel hovered, peering all around, never having been inside a police station before, seemingly unimpressed at the small, bland space.

“Why don’t you go and sit on that chair, champ? There’s some magazines you can look through while I speak with the officer.” I pointed to a padded metal chair against the wall.

“Okay.” He shrugged and walked to the chair, picking out a luxury boat magazine to read.

“It seems the vehicle in question is registered to a Mr. Peter McDonald. Does that name ring a bell to you?” The officer looked up and took another swig of his coffee.

“No. I’ve never heard that name before but John Hansford will be using another alias.”

“Seems as if the registration checks out. Nothing suspicious or unusual about it. No unpaid parking or speeding fines connected to the vehicle. It’s been registered to the same name for the last four years.”

I thought about that. “Well, it doesn’t sound as if John has registered the vehicle under an alias because he hasn’t been in the country for that amount of time. Is it possible he’s using a friend’s car?”

“It’s possible. I’ll get Downtown to check it out, maybe pay a visit to Mr. McDonald. Start asking some questions. It may or may not be a lead.”

I was starting to feel annoyed with the officer’s casual regard to Dakota’s disappearance. Was he taking it seriously? It didn’t appear so.

“How soon can you get men onto this? I mean, she’s already been gone over 24 hours now and don’t they say that those first hours are critical?”

“I’m aware of your concern, Mr. Rutherford, and we are working on it. In the meantime, I need you to fill out an official statement.”

The officer moved to a cabinet beside the front desk and pulled out some stapled sheets of paper, attaching them to a clipboard before placing them in front of me with a pen. “You’re welcome to take a seat and fill it out. We need as much detail as possible.” The officer waved his hand in Daniel’s direction, offering me the adjacent chair.

Moving in a stupor, I sat, astonished at how the weekend had panned out. Gripping the clipboard, my hand began shaking as I clutched the pen. Daniel must have picked up on it too.

“Are you okay, Kyle?” His hand went to my arm in comfort.

“No. No, champ, I’m not. I won’t be okay until we find her. It sickens me to even have to do this. It makes it real.”

Daniel turned slightly, bending his right leg up on the chair. “She will come back to us. If anyone can do it, Dakota can. I saw her when she first arrived on Ragged Island. She was a mess. I mean she actually survived a plane crash when no one else did. She never gave up. She won’t give up now. She took on my father…” Daniel stopped, eyes wide.

“She took on your father? What do you mean?”

“Oh…I mean…she wasn’t afraid of him. He could be mean to me sometimes but Dakota stood up for me.” He looked back to the magazine.

That would be something Dakota would do. “I know you didn’t have a very good life with your dad and I’m sorry. I’ll do everything I can to make up for that. As for Dakota sticking up for you—well yes. That’s her to a tee. She would always stick up for a child. She loves kids…” My mind wandered again, wondering if she would survive to even have kids and then decided to push the mental torture I was inflicting upon myself aside and just take one step at a time.

I returned to the task at hand and began filling out the paperwork.

Chapter Sixteen

Dakota

“Get out here now! Don’t make me break the frigging door down!”

Bang. Bang. Bang. “If you’re not out here on the count of three, I’m coming in and I promise you don’t want that! One…Two…Three…” I opened the door.

“About fucking time! What’s wrong with you? You got the shits or something?” When I didn’t answer, he swiped me across the side of the head. “Answer me, damn it!”

“N…n…no…my bladder was full.” He was so unstable. Anything could trigger a violent outburst. The simplest of things. I never knew what those things were going to be so it was a case of me always having to tread on eggshells, hoping I did or said the right thing. In this case, I had pushed him by purposefully stalling but it still didn’t warrant a slap around the head.

“Change of plans! As much as I know you were looking forward to continuing our ‘getting to know each other again’ session, I need to get food. We’re both going to need our energy for what I have in store.” He licked his lips, causing me to vomit a little in my mouth.

He yanked my arm, towing me into the kitchen, driving me into a chair. “I’m going to tie you to this while I run to the small store beside reception. Can’t have you trying to get away, now can I?” He smirked snidely, his words filled with innuendo.

The rope was wound around the chair, incapacitating my hands at the same time.

I didn’t put up a fight. My plan of succumbing to John’s charms, causing him to let his guard down, no longer applied. He was going out. It was precious time I needed to use to my advantage.

Once I’d been restrained to his liking, he picked up his wallet and headed out the door, turning before he was out of sight. “I won’t be gone long. If you think you can break free in that time, think again.”

***

As soon as I heard the SUV take off in a cloud of dust, my body was wriggling.

Focus, Dakota. You can do this. Ignore the pain. Ignore the pain. This is your last chance. Make it happen.

I stood up, hunched over with the chair on my back and turned side on to see if I could work the rope loose or free by chafing it against the edge of the table, which was made of glass but encased with a metal edging.

Every second counted. John would be back as quickly. The clock on the wall read 9:30 a.m. He’d already been gone three minutes.

Practically in the squatting position, I worked my arms up and down on the underneath edge of the metal table frame. Everything was burning. Arms, legs, lungs. Still I pushed on, listening for any sound of a vehicle.

After a couple of minutes of fruitless, energy draining rubbing, I decided I’d have more luck with a knife. My head shot towards the kitchen drawers.

I waddled over to the top drawer and turned so that my fingers could ease the drawer open. Looking inside there was only basic cutlery. I closed it, bending at the knees to open the second one, hitting my target. Bingo!

A serrated steak knife looked like the best option. It would be tricky to grasp it when my arms were bound, but not impossible. Sweat dripped down my face as I felt the handle of the knife and wrapped my fingers around it, pulling it out. Using the chair, I pushed the drawer closed and proceeded to twist my hands and wrists to position the knife so that the blade sat flush with the rope. I wasn’t going to be able to cut all of it as it circled too high, but if I could slice through a couple of the heavy strands, maybe it would be enough to unravel the whole lot.

Ten minutes had now passed. I mentally timed how long it would take to purchase some groceries and get back to the cabin. The store was around two minutes’ drive by car, each way. Depending on if there were other people lined up at the counter, I guessed that maybe I had another five minutes, tops.

Don’t think about anything else. Just cut, damn it! Try not to panic. Focus!

A car sounded in the distance, causing me to suck in a lungful of air as I craned my head to listen intently.

Shit! Shit!

Willing my aching hands to keep moving the knife backwards and forwards, I decided to sit back down on the chair to rest my legs and stabilize it so there was less movement. This seemed to help.

The roar of the car got louder as it approached. I cried out in frustration.

“Come on! Cut! Cut!”

Blood pumped in my ears. Time was running out.

I felt a pop as the knife worked its way through one of the strands of rope. My restraint seemed to loosen slightly. I tried wriggling free but my body was still too tightly bound. More rope needed to be cut. Feeling like my hands were about to drop off, I forced them to keep working. If John got back and saw what I was up to…well, it wasn’t worth thinking about. It would be bad.

The whine of an engine and tires chewing up gravel had me pushing the limits. Just a little bit more and the second strand of rope would break away.

It sounded like the car was nearly at the cabin. Peeking at the clock I saw that fifteen minutes were up. In my own head, I knew it was all over. John was almost here. He’d finish me off for sure.

Pop! The second strand broke, giving me more breathing space. Fighting against my broken ribs, a high-pitched screech tore from my throat as I wiggled on the chair, hoping beyond all else that the rope would now work its way loose.

Just when it sounded like the car would pull up out front, it veered off to the left.

I wilted with relief. It hadn’t been John. It had been someone else.

Still, I needed to get out of the cabin before he got back.

With the two bottom strands of rope broken it was easier to shrug my shoulders and work the rope higher, pushing myself down into the chair, slowly inching forwards and backwards.

Another car sounded in the distance. John. It’s not as if the place was teeming with visitors at this time of year.

Cutting through one more strand of rope would guarantee me freedom. I was almost there. So close.

The car was flying along the dirt road. I could almost picture John’s menacing scowl behind the wheel as he opened up the throttle, having wasted enough time already away from his victim.

The seed of determination seemed to grow in my mind. There was no way on earth I was going to undergo another beating from that asshole. He would not break me. I had too much at stake to let him win.

I imagined Kyle’s face. His handsome features and kind eyes lifted my spirit as it had on so many occasions before. I could almost hear him pushing me on. “Come on, beautiful girl. You can do it. Fight harder. Daniel and I need you. We love you.”

There was nothing I wanted more than to return to them. My life. People who cared.

Keeping Kyle’s face in my mind, with a surge of adrenalin that wouldn’t last long, I managed to cut through the third strand of rope.

At that, it seemed to cave in on itself, loosening to the point where I dropped the knife and shimmied out, exhausted but amazed at my ingenuity and strength.

As the car rounded the final bend to pull up outside the cabin, I picked up the knife and staggered towards the bedroom to pick up my dress and underwear. It was probably a stupid act on my behalf when I could have been out the door and away but if I was going to make a run for it and come into contact with strangers, then I wanted to be clothed.

The vehicle came to a screeching stop outside the cabin. The driver’s door slammed shut.

Shit! Where are my clothes?

Stumbling across the bed I found my dress and panties in a heap. I didn’t have time to put them on as I heard the back door of the SUV open. John was getting out the groceries.

I fumbled with the glass double doors which led outside, cursing under my breath when I found it locked. Of course it was.

The door of the SUV closed.

Panicked and looking around the room, I tried to find something that would break the glass. It was the only way out. He had caged me in like an animal.

The only way to flee was to break out. With what, though?

I mentally ticked off items in the room that may be of use. Vase, wooden chair, bedside lamp. Crap! Would any of those be heavy enough to go through glass?

The vase seemed like it might work so I scurried over, hearing John’s heavy boots on the gravel outside, nearing the front door.

I sat my clothes and the knife at my feet, pulling the fake lilies out of the vase and throwing them onto the floor. The vase was heavier than I thought. It may just work.

There wasn’t much fuel left in the tank but with everything I had I pulled my arms back and smashed the vase as hard as I could into the glass a second after I heard the key go into the lock on the front door.

The pane of glass exploded, spraying me with shards and pieces of the vase, splintering my hands and arms as I used them to shield my face.

Pain was no longer registering as I grabbed the dress, panties, knife and sandals, which I quickly stepped into without doing up the straps, and shouldered my way through the door, breaking any residual glass.

At that point the front door flew open, hitting the wall, John screaming out. “What the fuck?”

I moved quickly out the broken door, looking left and then right, figuring it was probably best to head in the direction of the general store.

Turning right, I limped, holding my clothes and weapon while clutching my searing rib cage. That would definitely slow things down. John roared, curses echoing into the quiet as I made for the closest thicket of trees before he could spot me.

My arm was now bleeding from the ceramic that still protruded but that could be dealt with later.

Finding help was instrumental to my survival.