Till Justice Is Served (23 page)

"I'm so glad to see you," Erin said. "I truly appreciate you for the constant support and for believing in my innocence."

"There was never a doubt. I have your office key right here." Mrs. Henley stuffed her hand into her blazer pocket and pulled out a key. "We've all been waiting for your return."

"That's good to hear." She nodded her head in the direction of the principal's office. "Is he in?"

"He had an appointment downtown. But he wants to see you today."

"I'll check back in a couple of hours." Erin opened the door and stepped into the hall. She felt as if she'd just returned home from a long journey. The shining tile floor, the metal lockers, and the banners promoting extracurricular activities seemed to welcome her as she made her way to her office.

She placed her hand on the doorframe of her office, feeling the cool wood against her skin, and unlocked the door. Inside, she resumed her routine of turning on the lights, opening the blinds so the sun flooded her work area with light, and then she sat in her desk chair. Everything about being back felt right. Firing up her computer, she dug right into her emails and messages.

"Hey, stranger." Carla stood in the door. Her smile was just the distraction Erin needed.

Erin stood and hugged her friend tightly. "Gosh, it's good to see you."

"I hear there are a few covered dishes in the teachers' lounge. Maybe even a cake. Come on."

"Now I know why my stomach was growling." Erin fell in step with her friend and chatted away as they went to lunch.

The teachers had set up a stop-and-go luncheon. For forty-five minutes, Erin was welcomed with open arms. By the time she returned to her office, she was on the verge of tears because of the wonderful reception she'd received. She settled at her desk and went back to scheduling appointments.

A knock on her door drew her attention. She motioned for Principal Mueller to enter.

"Welcome back." A smile crept up his cheeks. "Do you have a minute?"

Erin glanced at the clock. "I'm sorry you had to come to me. Time got away from me. Please, come in." She waved to the same chair Penny had been sitting in when the entire scandal started. "I appreciate your support with the board."

He waved off her compliment. "Walk with me. The coach is concerned for a student, and I'd like you to speak with the boy."

Erin was on her feet before he finished the sentence. "Certainly." She grabbed her notepad and a pen before joining him. "What's going on?"

"It's Sean Porter. Coach is going to bench him if he doesn't get his grades up."

Erin easily matched the principal's stride step for step. "Why didn't he send Sean to my office?"

"Coach thinks the boy is also having problems at home. We thought he'd speak more freely if you both spoke to him."

Principal Mueller stopped at the exit to a stairwell and opened and held the door for her. "Sean's waiting in the coach's office. You go ahead. I don't want him to feel like we ganged up on him."

"I'll let you know how it goes." Erin jogged down the stairs. She stopped at the second-floor landing when she heard a scuffling sound coming from behind. Swallowing, she turned quickly. No one was there. Shaking off her jumpy nerves, she hurried down the final steps, pushed the metal bar on the door, and stepped outside.

The prick in her neck happened quickly. She opened her mouth to scream, and a cloth was stuffed into her mouth. Someone held her from behind. She struggled to free herself, but her legs and arms grew heavy. Fighting against sleep proved futile.

****

Casanova's heart pounded painfully against his rib cage. Absolutely everything rode on the next few minutes. The minute he'd heard she was returning to work, he'd known this was a sign. He'd parked his car at the side exit, out of sight and safe because the practice field was empty this time of day. Scooping his soon-to-be bride into his arms, he placed her in the backseat. As a precautionary measure, he covered her with an old blanket.

Casanova drove carefully, minding the speed limit and using care not to draw attention. It wasn't unusual for him to go home for lunch, so he pulled into his garage, got out, and lowered the door. Once inside safely, he almost wept with joy. He'd done it. He and Erin would be together forever.

Erin would write a letter announcing that she needed some time alone and would be out of touch for a while. By the time she rejoined society, they'd be an old happily married couple. People would see how happy they were, and no one would ask questions.

Time was critical, so he carried Erin inside and down the stairs to the storm shelter. The ladder's narrow steps presented a problem, and he slipped once, banging his elbow and her head against the wall. Her moan sent his heart racing again. Once he had her on the bed, he removed the cloth from her mouth then ensured she was breathing easily.

She was beautiful, eyes closed, resting peacefully. How stunning she would look in the wedding dress. He lifted it gently and laid it across her body. He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "I'll be home soon, my love."

Casanova hurried up the stairs, closed and secured the heavy metal door, then placed the carpet in its proper place. A flutter of irritation washed over him. He'd worked so hard for this moment, and yet, he couldn't stop and enjoy it. He shook off the self-pity.

Later, when Erin understood everything he'd done so they could be together, she would demonstrate her appreciation, making all his hard work and patience worth it.

****

Erin tried to ignore the headache while she fought her way to consciousness. She opened her eyes to total darkness. A scream hit the back of her throat, but she swallowed it back. Remaining calm would be difficult, but nothing good would come from her losing control.

"Hello? Is anybody there?" Silence answered her. "If somebody is here, please say something."

Erin pushed herself up. Something soft slid off her chest and onto her lap. A quick check told her it hadn't been a piece of her clothing. Whatever it was, it didn't belong to her, so she shoved it to the floor. Questions jammed her mind, flooding in like a high-speed train. Panic bubbled up again.

Stop. Get a hold of yourself.

There had to be a way out, and she had to find it. Cautiously, she stood and scooted one foot along the floor. Then she repeated the process, shuffling her feet and holding her arms out in front of her. Terrified of what she might find, but more afraid of what would happen if she didn't try, she moved at a snail's pace. The question "why?" kept coming to mind.

She'd taken only five steps when her hands found a wall. The surface was cool to the touch. If she could only see her surroundings, she could figure out what to do. One hand over the other, she shuffled sideways before finding a corner and second wall. Wherever she was, the room didn't seem to be very large. Best she could tell the room was the size of a jail cell. Something flicked across the top of her head. Startled beyond words, she stumbled backward. Her arms flailed through the air as she tried to maintain her balance. Unable to steady herself, she fell, landing on the cold, hard floor. Pain shot from her tailbone up her spine to her head.

Erin screamed her frustration and anguish. Her voice reverberated, bouncing back at her, sounding as if she was in a tunnel. She brushed a hand across her cheek to find tears running down her cheeks. When had she started crying? Angrily, she wiped her face dry. Now wasn't the time for fear or self-pity. But the dark was maddening.

She stood and resumed her hand-to-wall shuffle. Determined to locate a window or door, she clenched her jaw and forced herself to move.

Hope flooded her heart when her fingers wrapped around the bar of what might be a ladder. Yes. She ran her hand up the cool metal and grasped another rung. Searching, she located a secure place for her foot and started an ascent. Her footing was bad, and her sense of balance a disaster. The top of her head crashed into some barrier. Tears rushed to the surface with the impact, but she ignored them, running her hand over the surface until she found a handle or lever. Clinging to a rung with one hand and trying to move the metal bar used every muscle and ounce of strength she could muster.

"Help," she cried out. "I'm here." Refusing to give up, she pulled, pushed, and tugged until her voice grew weak and her limbs began to tremble and cramp.

Exhausted, she slipped and slid back to the hard floor. Sweat had soaked through her blouse, and a shiver raced across her shoulders. Erin gathered her strength and felt her way to what might be a small bed. Her hand felt something soft. Was that what she shoved to the floor? She pulled it next to her, tried to figure out what the yards of material were, using that to occupy her mind. Anything to blot out the word
trapped
, which circled in an unending loop through her thoughts.

To stave off the rising panic, she had to do something, anything. She stood, put her hands on the wall, and resumed her search. Her knee bumped into something, pulling a yelp of pain and surprise from her clenched teeth. She knelt and opened a small door. The interior light of an apartment-size fridge shone brightly. The bulb was small in size and wattage, but the faint illumination it provided was very welcome. Relief washed over her as her tense nerves relaxed a little.

Erin opened the door all the way and looked around. A chill shook her body. She'd been placed in a dull-gray metal bunker. One small cot, the fridge, and a camp potty left little room to move around. Hanging from the ceiling was a pull string attached to a bare light bulb. That's what had brushed across her head earlier.

She stood, reached up, and then tugged on the string. It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the glare. Erin picked up the pile of white material on top of the cot. Bile charged the back of her throat. In her hands, she held a wedding dress. She was to be somebody's bride. Expected to wear yards and yards of lace for some madman.

She charged the ladder, quickly reaching the top. She pounded with her fist until she couldn't raise her arm any longer. Despair wrapped around her like a damp gray blanket on a cold winter day.

What if nobody ever found her?

What kind of monster had done this?

Principal Mueller had left her at the top of the stairs, hadn't he? Had he helped set her up? He didn't seem capable of attacking Linc or murdering two young women and the photographer. He was a politician, an executive, and a bit of an awkward flirt. But she'd seen through his façade, known he was insecure, full of self-doubt, and that his handshaking and backslapping were a cover-up.

   Had he quietly followed her down the stairs? If not him, who? Had Coach Evans tricked the principal into sending her out the side door?

She had no memory of how she got to wherever she was. Where the hell was
here
? And how long had she been here? She didn't wear a watch, choosing to check the time on her cell. But without either one, she had no way of measuring what day today was or if it was day or night. She shut the fridge door, crawled onto the cot, and pulled her knees to her chest. Tremors racked her body.

Rafe. He'd probably gone in the school looking for her and by now was searching for her. Had he exploded in anger or kept his cool? He'd use all of his resources to find her. Of that, she had no doubt. The question most pressing was would she be alive when he found her? And who would tell Jeff and Lotty?

The silence seeped into her soul. The sound of her heart racing roared in her ears. Her imagination pulled at her sanity like a runaway horse.

How strong was her mind? Could she endure living in captivity? Damn right, she could.

Erin replaced fear with anger. Many years ago, she'd become an expert at being a survivor.

C
HAPTER 21

Parked in a visitor's spot right in front of the school, Rafe lifted his sunglasses off and put them on the dash of his car. Nothing would hinder him from spotting Erin when she came outside.

Today had been productive. Colton had provided his information from last night's surveillance to the narcotics squad, and bright and early this morning, the local PD had picked up Grace and hauled the sleepy young woman downtown. She'd recently turned eighteen, which meant she could be questioned without the department having to wait for her parents to fly home. Rafe would've liked to know what was going down, but this was Colton's case. Erin was his responsibility.

Funny how badly he'd missed having her around today. Even while he and Luke worked through family issues concerning their dad, she'd popped into Rafe's thoughts entirely too often.

His gaze shifted to the car's clock. Erin was five minutes late. The hair on his arms rose. The hell with waiting. He got out, jogged up the sidewalk, and walked in the school.

"Mr. Sirilli." Mrs. Henley met him just inside the building. "What brings you here so late in the day?"

"I'm giving Ms. Brady a ride home." He moved to go around her.

Shaking her head, she said, "She's already left."

An icy hand gripped his heart and squeezed. "Impossible. She promised to wait for me. I've been outside for over thirty minutes. She'd have seen me waiting."

"I don't know what to tell you." Mrs. Henley lifted a shoulder. "I just walked down to her office to remind her that Principal Mueller wanted to see her today, but she wasn't there. I assure you, her office is empty."

Rafe ran full speed, sliding to a stop at the closed door. Erin's office was dark. He tried the door handle. Locked. His stomach dropped to his shoe tops.

Erin was gone.

"I told you," Mrs. Henley said, arriving a few seconds after Rafe. She huffed out each word.

"Do you have keys for this office?"

"Not with me. Aside from there being confidential information inside, Ms. Brady is a stickler for everything being kept tidy."

"I need that door unlocked." Rafe felt the nerves in his jaw bunch. Her eyes widened. He was scaring her, but it couldn't be helped. She glanced back toward the front of the school as if looking for help.