Taken - Before her very Eyes (20 page)

Hitting the top of the hill, she
scanned the countryside for the truck and watched as it disappeared out of
sight, down on the main roadway at the end of the service lane. She knew she
had to keep close. She couldn’t afford to let him get a huge lead otherwise
Sabrina’s life may be in jeopardy. If only Nate would’ve listened and stayed
back at the farm house like he’d promised, then Sabrina would be sitting right
beside her.

She pushed the Malibu harder than
she normally would’ve, given the condition of the laneway. The car wasn’t made
for off-roading in the countryside, but it seemed to be holding its own just
the same. The rutted, pitted laneway appeared to have been abused for years by
large tractors, making it difficult to navigate the course.

It looked like he’d chosen this
drop location after careful consideration. Even if someone tried to follow him,
there was little chance of the police cars making good time following him
across the countryside. The big truck tires were definitely designed for this
type of environment.

Summer remembered the tire prints
that were at the farm house. They belonged to a smaller vehicle, not a large
truck. And the pattern, it was definitely different. There was no way he was
driving this truck earlier, so where was he getting the vehicles from? He could
be stealing them, she supposed, but why take a chance when you’ve already got
the cops scouring the countryside for you. Maybe whoever the kidnapper was
working for had set him up with the hiding place and the vehicles?

The car bounced wildly, the
undercarriage coming crashing down on the roadway, bringing a jarring pain
ripping through her head as it smashed against the head rest. Summer cranked
the wheel, fighting to keep the car from bouncing off the lane into the death
trap of mud as she approached the smooth paved road fifty feet away.

She could feel the anxiety
building, just imagining how fast she could go once she reached that roadway.
The left tire spun as the car sank deeper into the rut at the side of the lane,
pulling her ever so close to the smooth pool of mud soup. Summer cranked the
wheel toward the side of the road and instead of fighting the rut, she turned
into it, gaining speed until she was dangerously close to sudden death, then
cranked the wheel slightly and floored the pedal. The wheels grabbed, then spun
as the muffler scrapped on the mixture of gravel and rocks beneath.

“Shit!” The car was slowing,
being dragged down by the exhaust. She heard the sound of metal tearing apart
and a second later the rear of the car flew up, catapulting over the muffler
that had been ripped right from the vehicle, sending the car over it like a
pole vaulter making the most important jump of his career.

The car came crashing down,
bouncing a few times as the tires took advantage of the lack of friction and
sent the car screaming up the rut, toward the blessed asphalt. With the muffler
gone, the car roared down the final stretch sounding like a stock car on a
Saturday night.

“Sorry, Nate,” Summer muttered as
the front wheels grabbed the welcomed flat surface, pulling the car easily from
the muddy gravel that had helped give the kidnapper such a huge lead. She sped
down the road, mud flinging from the tires as the last of the gravel pounded
the wheel wells, challenging the roar of the open exhaust. She knew there was
no way of sneaking up on the kidnapper now. Not with this thing screaming for
miles away.

With the pedal pressed against
the floor, Summer gripped the steering wheel so tight there was no way her
hands could twitch. The roar of the engine was so loud, she doubted she’d be
able to hear the phone ringing if the kidnapper called, so she tucked it under
her leg, praying that it would vibrate and she’d get another chance to save
Sabrina.

The road ended up ahead, splitting
in two directions, one back toward the highway and the other down toward the
cliff surrounding the lake. Summer had driven along the lake a few times,
enough to know there were plenty of hiding places along the cliffs. Houses were
built, perched on the ridge, overlooking the expanse of water, while others
found their seclusion building their homes down in the valleys, hiding from
view of passersby. He could be in any one of these homes, seeing how most were
now empty with the approach of winter.

Summer turned left, down toward
the lake, hoping she was using the same logic as the kidnapper. She had to stop
thinking like a cop—or a mother—and start thinking like him.

“He needs a place to hide,”
Summer muttered. “And where better than in the valleys, along the lake.”

The changing landscape blurred
past in a rush of fall colours as the flat farm land began slowly rolling down
toward the lake front. She glanced at the map, following her current course
until the road she was travelling ended at the Talbot Trail Road, which ran
along the edge of the lake.

Most of the homes were located
along this stretch of road, allowing easy access to the city, but there were a
few side streets that jogged down the steep cliff toward the water’s edge. The
houses on these streets were hidden from the view of the roadway, secluded from
the rest of the world, making them the perfect hideout for the kidnapper. The
only problem was there were so many side streets and homes, not to mention tiny
boathouses along the water, plus tiny shacks everywhere that he might be held
up in.

When the road ended at Talbot
Trail, Summer sat for a second, glad that the roar of the exhaust had subsided
temporarily as she gazed out over the cliff, across the seemingly endless body
of water before her. It looked so beautiful as the sun glistened off the
surface and she remembered how much Sabrina loved going to the beach. She loved
building castles and playing in the breaking waves as they crashed ashore, and
today the waves were crashing, easily eight feet high, dangerous for anyone
playing in them.

Summer hopped out, limped before
the car and examined the pavement, hoping for a sign. Maybe there was a minute
drop of mud from the truck’s tires as he rounded the corner, knocked free from
the sideway’s force of the turn, which would indicate the direction he’d gone?
But finding no sign, she stepped onto the quiet highway, glancing in both
directions, looking for a clue, but finding nothing.

“Damn it!” Summer screamed at the
top of her lungs.

The ringing of the phone barely
made it over the rumble of the exhaust, sending Summer running to the car and
grabbing for the phone. “Where the hell are you!”

“Right where you left me,” Nate
said. “Waiting for an ambulance.”

“Nate?” Summer leaned against the
car. Her legs were weak and tired all of a sudden. “I can’t talk to you. I
can’t tie up the phone.”

“The l—lab called. They found the
prints. Matched them to Percy Campbell.” Nate paused for a second. “Stephens
and Malroy are headed for his place right now.”

“Any chance it’s down by the
lake?”

“No, just on the outskirts of
Chatham… Summer?”

“Yeah.”

“Be careful. He’s done time at
Fenbrook for drug and gun possession. We know he’s armed and dangerous so if
you find him, please wait for backup. I can’t stand the thought of losing you
again.”

Summer could hear the wail of the
ambulance siren in the background and it brought a feeling of relief, knowing
that Nate would be all right now that help was arriving. “Nate, see if Percy
has any ties to the lake. See if he owns any property down here.”

“Don’t worry, I—I’ll get Stephens
to check it out.”

“If he finds anything, I want to
be the first to know.”

“Fine.”

“Nate?”

“Yeah.”

“Be nice to the paramedics and
try not to be such an ass.” Summer closed the phone and climbed back inside the
car. She turned left, seeing the fingers of land creeping out to the lake and
guessed the lower lands would be of more interest to the kidnapper than the
high cliffs.

Each house she passed, she
slowed, searching for fresh tire prints in the soft gravel leading up to the
homes. The early morning rain was helpful, giving a tiny shred of hope at
finding tracks that normally wouldn’t be there, but snow, a light dusting of
snow would be a saviour right now. But alas, luck seemed like something of the
past. Something restricted from her life for good.

The road dipped down suddenly,
rounding to the right, heading back toward the water. Summer squinted at the
approaching dirt lane up ahead on the right. It was pitted and cratered with
mud puddles and Summer felt a brief surge of excitement at seeing the
glistening wet ring around the puddles. She pulled off to the side of the road,
careful not to disturb the water and opened her door.

There was definite wetness
surrounding the puddle, a dead giveaway that someone had disturbed the liquid
not long ago, and seeing how traffic was all but dead this morning, she knew
there was a good chance the kidnapper had come this way. She glanced down the
dirt laneway, eyeing the thick overgrowth of trees and bushes as the land
neared the open water of the lake, knowing that he could be hiding behind any
one of these bushes with his rifle trained on her head.

Summer drove slow, keeping the
rumble of the exhaust to a minimum as she scanned every worn, decrepit shack
she passed. Any of these would make a perfect hiding place. They were in such
disrepair that nobody would come looking inside. She hoped that Sabrina had
been kept warm and safe, even if she was being held captive.

Creeping along, Summer saw how
far the huge waves were breaking on the land, coming closer and closer to the
laneway as the wind began intensifying off the lake. As she turned the corner,
she saw the fresh tire tracks heading to the first liveable home up ahead and
pulled to the soft shoulder, then killed the engine. The tire tracks led
straight inside the single car garage, but the door was closed, keeping the
vehicle’s identity a secret.

Cautiously, Summer climbed from
the car, reaching for her gun as she went. She knew she wasn’t authorized to
have a weapon until she was reinstated, but she didn’t care. He was armed and
definitely dangerous, and she wasn’t stupid.

Stepping into the thick of the
brush, Summer slowly made her way to the front corner of the garage, careful
not to expose herself to the house. The garage door was closed and after
reaching around and pulling on the handle with everything she had, she
determined that it was also locked.

“Shit!” She tiptoed back around
the side of the garage, peering in the backyard at the waves which were crashing
against the retaining wall, splashing plumes of water high into the air,
soaking the entire weed choked lawn.

There wasn’t any sign of the
kidnapper or of Sabrina in the windows, but somehow she didn’t think they’d be
sitting in the window, watching the waves crashing out back. He’d be busy
formulating a plan or he’d be disposing—

Summer drew a deep breath, holding
it as she darted across the slippery lawn until she was standing, pressed
tightly against the house, beside the patio doors. As she peered around the
frame, movement in the far corner of the room caught her eye. She froze,
feeling her hand begin to shake. What if it was him? What if he was standing
right inside that room? Could she pull the trigger? Could she gun him down
right there before her daughter’s eyes?

Summer shook her head.

She had to do it. She had no
other choice but to eliminate him from the picture. Taking a second glance, she
saw exactly what it was she’d seen. The black cat cautiously crept to the side
of the door, curious to see who was outside the glass wall. Summer felt
relieved, but silly at being caught off guard by the animal. She tensed when
she heard the footsteps inside, moving toward the cat—and the door. They were
heavy footfalls, not that of a child. Summer prepared herself to step to the
side and take aim at the bastard’s head and, if he so much as flinched, pull
the trigger.

Just as she was about to step
into the door opening, her phone rang, scaring the shit right out of her. She
fell back against the house, the gun shaking uncontrollably in her hand as she
dug in her pocket to silence the alarm. Once she retrieved the phone, she heard
the lock on the door being thrown and the heavy glass pane sliding slowly open.

Summer took a step backwards and
held the gun out, pointing it at the old man’s head as he looked out with huge
unblinking eyes. He looked as scared as Summer felt right now. His shirt was
soiled and filthy, covered with stains and his hands reeked of fish, like he’d
been busy cleaning his morning catch.

The old man grabbed the cat
before it could slip out the door. “What’s going on out here?”

“Just stay where you are!” Summer
tightened her grip on the gun, careful not to squeeze the trigger and
accidentally shoot the man. Suddenly she didn’t think this was the kidnapper.
There was no way this was the same person who’d knifed Dean, but Summer wasn’t
convinced that he wasn’t involved.

“What?” She barked into the
phone.

“Nate said you wanted to know
first. We’ve run Percy through the registry and he’s got a place he inherited
from his grandmother out at the lake on Talbot Trail Road. 4479's the house
number. Looks like it hasn’t been lived in for a while. No record of power or
water service.”

“Thanks Stephens.” Summer felt
stupid standing there, holding her gun on an old man when the kidnapper was
miles away. “I appreciate the information.”

“No problem, but you understand I
have to report it to the chief and the place will be swarming with cops in no
time.”

“I know. Thanks anyway.” Summer
flipped the phone closed and lowered her gun.

The old man let the cat lick his
hands as he stepped back toward the patio door. “I don’t know what you’re
looking after, but I couldn’t help but overhear. Talbot Trail is back the other
way, on the main road.”