The Baby Thief (34 page)

She promptly vomited a small stream of clear liquid. Sarah looked back and motioned her to keep moving. Jenna forced herself to continue through the rows of plants, past a group of giggling young girls, and finally out into the open air where a pale sky stretched to the horizon.

Sarah stopped and turned to Jenna. “Are you all right?”

She was aware of pain in her lower abdomen, upper legs, and right shoulder. Her whole body felt weak as if she’d just recovered from the flu. But she free!

“I’m fine.” Jenna quickly scanned the area. Beyond the plowed fields was dense forest. “Where are we?”

“About twenty-five miles from Blue River.” Sarah grabbed her arm, and they started running toward a harvested cornfield, the earth hard and cold under Jenna’s bare feet. The sweet mountain air was cool against her legs, and tiny pebbles bruised her feet. The discomfort was strangely wonderful. With each deep inhale, Jenna’s brain sharpened a little more. She had never felt more alive.

“I’ll show you a path to the main road, but then I have to go back.” Sarah kept running, glancing over her shoulder, and speaking in short bursts. “I’m sure he knows you’re gone already, but I think I can slow him down. Turn left when you reach the road, then keep going for about ten miles until you hit Deercreek, then go left again. Eventually you will come to Blue River.”

“Can you call the police from here?” Jenna was scared to be on her own, scared of being picked up by the crazy man before she got very far.

“I’ll try. He has a satellite phone, but his office may be locked.” At the edge of the field, Sarah stopped and pointed. “There’s a path beyond that first clump of trees. It’s rugged, but it’ll keep you off the road for now and save some time. Good luck.”

Her angel turned and ran before Jenna had a chance to thank her. Jenna headed for the clump of trees, running for her life.

Chapter 43

12:34 p.m.

Eric stopped at a Texaco/Starmart to buy a bottle of ibuprofen. From the waist up, he was a walking, pulsating wound. Just hanging on to the steering wheel hurt his upper chest. He also picked up a jumbo-sized coffee, two Snickers, and a tank of gas. He had a feeling this would be a long day. Especially without his cell phone, which he had not been able to find among the blood and breakage in his house. It had to be in the hospital somewhere.

A few blocks later, he scooted onto the expressway that would connect him with Springfield and 126 East. He had to find Carmichael’s hideaway. Jenna could be at the compound, imprisoned, drugged, and/or brainwashed. The police were waiting for directions and subpoena, but he wasn’t. Eric had to find Jenna. In a way, he’d looked for this woman all his life. He wasn’t giving up now.

Subconsciously, he kept looking for the black truck. Not knowing exactly where he was going, he half-heartedly hoped he might run into Grafton, the ex-con, who would lead him to the secluded church. Eric knew it was wishful thinking. Just as finding Jenna was not likely. Yet he couldn’t stop trying any more that he could cease to breathe. Letting go of things had never been easy for him.

He pulled off the road in the tiny town of Leaburg to call Joe, but got his message service again. He started to call Jackson, then changed his mind. What was the point? Even if Jackson learned the location of the church, he wouldn’t share it with Eric. The police were like that. Moving stiffly, Eric climbed into the Firebird and continued west.

The sky had cleared to a pale gray, and the temperature was dropping. He had the heat turned up high but couldn’t seem to get warm. Eric ate one of the Snickers, thinking it would help his blood sugar, but the trembling continued. He wished he’d bought and installed a new radio like he’d planned. Music, or even the sound of someone’s voice, would help keep his spirits up.

After a while, he felt lightheaded. Eric opened the window to take in extra oxygen and kept going. He was determined to make it to Deercreek Road before he pulled off to rest. As the day wore on, traffic increased in both directions. He worried about drifting out of his lane and causing an accident. Eric quit watching for the black truck, downed most of the coffee, and fought to stay alert.

Half an hour later, he rounded the sharp curve that came before the turnoff to Deercreek. Eric slowed and watched carefully to the right. The gravel road was about seven miles this side of Blue River and unmarked by anything other than an old sign that had fallen down years ago. The only reason Eric knew the location was that he’d ridden out here once with an environmentalist who wanted to show him a particularly heinous clear-cut.

The narrow gravel road twisted its way slowly uphill into the cool, dark pines. Relieved to be away from traffic, Eric relaxed his grip on the wheel. The heat in his car was stifling, yet he continued to shiver. His chest wound throbbed with a steady, hot rhythm. Eric broke into a cold sweat.

He knew he needed to stop and sleep for a while, but he pushed ahead, navigating each curve as cautiously as an old woman. Eric kept going until his head lolled from side to side. He braked to a stop, shut the car off, and promptly dozed off.

Chapter 44

1:27 p.m.

Once the embryos were transferred, Carmichael felt a tremendous relief. He whistled softy as he moved around the lab, sterilizing equipment and listening to Liz talk about pregnancy. As soon as he put everything in order, he could load Jenna into the van and get her out of his church. He wished Zeke were here to help him. Liz wouldn’t be able to get up for hours. He chuckled softly to himself. Liz wouldn’t be much help anyway.

Rachel burst into the room. “Jenna’s gone!”

“What?” Carmichael spun around.

“I just went to check on her, and she’s gone.” Rachel seemed more nervous than frightened. “Her restraints had been undone. Someone let her go.”

Carmichael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You let her go, didn’t you?”

“Of course not!” Rachel shouted back. She was obviously distressed and Carmichael believed her.

Minutes! He’d been minutes away from transporting Jenna out of here. God damn it to hell anyway. Carmichael turned to Liz. “Don’t get up or you’ll lose the embryos. I’ll find her.”

He grabbed a syringe and dashed from the room before she could respond. A thunderous roar filled his ears, and he didn’t trust himself not to hurt anyone who stepped into his path. Fueled by panic, he sprinted up the stairs. Carmichael could feel it all sliding away, the church, his clinic, his chance to be a father again.

He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let Jenna see the compound or be found anywhere near his property. She needed another hearty dose of ketamine and a long trip north before she started talking to anyone.

Carmichael reached the central tower room. Danielle, a young timid woman with a horrible scar on her face, was coming down from the platform.

“Reverend Carmichael! I just saw the strangest thing. Sarah and a woman I’ve never seen before just ran across the south field to the edge of the woods.”

Stunned, Carmichael thought he must have misunderstood. “Tamara’s Sarah?”

Danielle nodded. “I’m as surprised as you are, but I’m sure of it.”

Carmichael shook his head. What was going on? “Thank you, Danielle.” He touched her on the shoulder. “Now get back up and keep an sharp eye out.”

“Yes, sir.” She scurried up the circular steps.

Rachel came panting up from the clinic, calling out to him. Carmichael ignored her and ran toward the kitchen, the most direct route to the south field. Sarah’s involvement was such a mystery. The last he’d heard, Sarah had ditched Rachel in Eugene after they left the hospital. How had she gotten back to the compound and into the clinic? Had he left the labor room door unlocked after Jenna’s oocyte retrieval?

Carmichael wished Zeke was by his side. Zeke would track Jenna down like a hunting dog after a fox. Why hadn’t he heard from him?

He charged through the kitchen, oblivious to the women who called after him, their voices shrill with confusion and drama. Their tranquil lives had been subject to more commotion in the last few days than they usually saw in a year. Lungs aching, Carmichael burst through the mudroom into the greenhouse. He ran straight into Sarah, knocking her to the ground. Concerned that he’d injured the girl, he stopped and turned.

“Are you all right?” He reached out to offer help. Eyes blazing with anger, Sarah grasped his hand in a painful grip and pulled herself up.

“Answer me, Sarah, are you all right?”

“No, I’m not. I need to talk to you.”

Exasperated, Carmichael jerked his hand free. “Not now. If you’re hurt, see Rachel. She should be coming along any second.” He turned and started to jog away.

“Why did you make Darcie pregnant?”

Carmichael froze. When had she talked to Darcie? And for God’s sake, why was everything coming apart now? He turned to face her. “I didn’t! Darcie is confused and untrustworthy. Now, please. I have to go. We’ll talk about this later.”

The look of disbelief on Sarah’s face hurt him deeply. Carmichael wanted to reach out, draw her back into the fold. It would have to wait. He turned and trotted into the field. Jenna had to be found and brought back, at least for now. It shouldn’t be too difficult, he told himself. After nine days in bed, she would be weak and disoriented from the drugs. She wouldn’t get far.

Carmichael heard Sarah running after him, and he silently cursed her. If she didn’t back off, he would be forced to use the syringe he’d brought for Jenna on Sarah instead. In a few moments, the girl caught up to him and grabbed his arm.

“Why was Jenna being kept here?” Sarah shouted and pulled against him, trying to slow him down. Her strength surprised him. “What kind of man are you, Reverend?”

Carmichael stopped and shook free. He took a moment to speak as gently as he could, considering the magnitude of his stress. “I am the same man you have always known. Jenna is a drug addict and her family asked me to keep her here until she was free of her addiction. Now I must find her before she hurts herself or becomes lost and dies of exposure.”

Sarah’s expression progressed from relief to confusion to disbelief. “Why did you do a laparoscopy on her?”

Carmichael started to give her the same story he’d told Rachel, then decided he didn’t have time. Sarah was working against him and needed to be put on hold. Carmichael grabbed her shoulder and plunged the needle into her deltoid, giving her only half the dose. Sarah started to protest, but muted squawking sounds came out instead. She staggered backwards and collapsed.

Carmichael left her prone in the barren cornfield. The sun was warm and she would be fine. She would wake in a few hours and not remember a thing, maybe not even how she’d helped Jenna escape. He would deal with Sarah later. Carmichael turned back to the compound. Jenna had too great a head start on him now. He needed to get the van and cut her off where the trail reached the road. Jogging, he headed east across the field to where he kept the van outside his office. He noticed several women watching him from just inside the greenhouse.

Had they seen him with Sarah? Of course they had, he thought bitterly. He would have a lot of explaining to do, but the Sisters loved him and would take it in stride. Once Jenna was safely transferred, he could put his church and daily routine back together. Damn Elizabeth! Damn her selfishness. She had made it seem so simple, so harmless. Just grab the woman, pump her full of hormones, then harvest and transfer a few eggs. Throw in a few memory repressing drugs and drop her a hundred miles from home and she would never know what happened.

They hadn’t counted on the reporter witnessing the kidnapping. Or Sarah getting nosy. Carmichael still couldn’t figure out she’d become involved. He remembered at the last moment to dash down to the clinic for another syringe of ketamine and Versed. He ignored Elizabeth’s questions and pleas to be careful. He knew it must be killing her to stay on the examining table and depend on him to get the situation under control, but he couldn’t take time to reassure her.

Carmichael rushed up the stairs. At first he ignored the women and children who’d come out of their sewing circles and classrooms to whisper and stare. But they had been loyal, and he owed them something.

“Pray for me,” he called out as he ran through the foyer and into the chapel. He ducked into his office to grab his keys, then out his private entrance to the van.

Chapter 45

1:33 p.m.

The path wasn’t really a path at all, but a barely discernible trail. The pinecones cut her feet and Jenna kept stubbing her toes on rocky inclines. But she kept running, breathing in a slow, steady rhythm that was very familiar. She checked over her shoulder a few times, but no one was back there.

She was free. She was free. She was free. The words kept playing in her brain like a mantra. As she moved farther and farther from the prison, her fear gave way to exhilaration. She wasn’t even sure what she’d escaped from. Her mind was still a mess of foggy images and long dark blanks, but it didn’t matter at the moment. She was free.

She hurt everywhere, but she was alive. Jenna’s legs stayed strong, despite the pain, all those miles of jogging paying off. She was cold and hungry and didn’t know where she would find sanctuary, but she was free.

The sun was up beyond the shade of the trees, still high in the sky. Jenna guessed it was early afternoon. Sarah had said Blue River was twenty-five miles away. It felt wonderful to know her actual time and place after being in a black hole, drugged and disoriented, for God only knew how long.

Jenna pushed herself, trying to keep up her pace even when the trail went uphill. Her feet eventually grew numb to the stinging pine needles and cold rocks. She planned to run until she hit the first road Sarah mentioned. After that she would run and walk in intervals as long as she could. Twenty-five miles to Blue River. She could do that in five hours.

Maybe.

By the time Jenna reached the dirt track, she was ready to collapse. She sank to a bed of pine needles and leaned her head against a tree. Her heart worked overtime and her legs trembled with exhaustion. She had never felt so vulnerable. Wearing only a nightgown, weak and disoriented, she was stuck in the middle of nowhere. The silence itself was frightening.