Part 11 (1/2)

She pointed off the roadside, and through the high weeds, he saw the gravel road. He turned off the road and muttered, ”Glad I didn't go with that sedan.” The big Tundra ate up gas, but it took the rough, poor excuse for a road like a dream. As the road started to climb, he glanced over at Taige and saw she had worked forward, even with the seat belt on, so that she sat on the edge of the seat. She had her hands curled around the edge, knuckles gone white.

”Turn,” she said, her eyes closed. She didn't open her eyes as she pointed to the right. It was another sorry road, more of a trail than anything, and it climbed up, up, and up.

There were no more turns, the road going up at such a high angle, it climbed up the side of the mountain. It kept going up until the ground leveled out. They were d.a.m.ned high. Cullen climbed out of the car and looked around, staring at the cabin in front of him. He noticed the generator, saw a huge water tank, an empty spot in front of the cabin where it looked like somebody parked regularly. But the cabin itself looked d.a.m.ned empty. As secluded as this place was, if somebody had been in that cabin, they would be at the door.

Or maybe not, Cul en thought. If the sick f.u.c.k who had taken his baby was inside that house, the last thing he would want to do was announce his presence to anybody. ”Don't suppose I can convince you to wait in the car, huh?” Taige asked as she came up to stand beside him. She'd put a holster on, and Cullen could see the b.u.t.t of a gun peering out from under her right arm. With her weight resting lightly on the b.a.l.l.s of her feet and a grim, intent look on her face, she looked as much a warrior now as she had that first summer when he'd watched her break through the waves like a mermaid, a drowning child in her arms.

”No. You can't convince me to wait in the car.”

As one, they turned their attention back to the house. ”Can you use that gun left-handed?”

”Almost as good as I can with my right hand,” Taige replied. She closed her eyes, and her shoulders lifted and fel as she took a deep, slow breath, followed by another. ”But I don't think I'm going to need it. She's in there alone.”

”How can you be sure?”

Her misty gray eyes slid toward him, and Cullen blew out a breath. ”Okay, dumb question.”

She rolled her shoulders, looking like she was getting ready to step into the ring with a professional boxer, but she didn't look scared or even worried. She pulled the gun from the leather shoulder holster, palming it in her left hand.

”I thought you said he wasn't here.” Instinctively, Cul en s.h.i.+fted and placed his body in front of hers. Pointless, considering she was the one with the weapon. A very mean-looking weapon at that, matte black, and she held it like it was part of her.

”I did. And I'm certain he isn't.” Then she slid around him and planted herself squarely in front of him and gave him a hard look over her shoulder. ”But I've been wrong before.

Now, please, stay behind me. We're both worried about your girl. Don't make me worry about you, too.”

So I'm supposed to worry about you? he wondered. But he kept the question behind his lips, and when she started to walk toward the house, he stayed exactly two steps behind her, close enough that he could grab her and throw her behind him if he had to.

The door was locked. He watched as Taige tried to open it by shoving against it. It didn't even budge. The door boasted three s.h.i.+ny, rather new-looking locks. She glanced at him and asked, ”Don't suppose you can pick locks, can you?”

Cullen scowled. ”h.e.l.l, no. Can you?”

She lifted her casted hand and said, ”One-handed? Hel , no.” She stepped back and studied the house. Cullen took her place and shoved against the door. It was like pus.h.i.+ng against a brick wall. He took a step back and threw his weight into it, striking it with his shoulder, and it still didn't give.

”Don't bother. If he's been using this as a place to keep his victims, he's going to do his d.a.m.nedest to keep people out. That door is probably reinforced, and those locks are heavy-duty.”

Cullen ignored her. If his little girl was on the other side of that door, the door could be made of t.i.tanium, and he'd find a way through it.

”Cullen.”

He heard the thud of footsteps on the porch, heard gravel crunch and the truck door open and shut. He glanced back as Taige came striding back toward the porch. His shoulder throbbed, and the door still felt as solid as a redwood.

The sound of gla.s.s shattering finally had him looking around. Taige stood in front of a small, narrow window. She had her left hand wrapped in what looked like a T-s.h.i.+rt, and she was using it to knock shards of gla.s.s from the window. She glanced toward him and shrugged. ”I'm already bruised and battered enough,” she said.

As she unwound the T-s.h.i.+rt wrapped around her forearm and hand, he saw that she held her gun and had used it to break the window. Little shards of gla.s.s rained down as she dropped it onto the porch.

Still holding her Glock, Taige peered through the window. It was exactly as she'd seen in those few brief moments from earlier, one room that served as kitchen and bedroom, and a wall that bisected the house nearly in half. The door was in the middle of it, and Taige's heartbeat kicked up a few notches when she saw it.

Jillian- She pulled back and slid Cullen a glance before ducking inside, first one leg, then the other. She wobbled a little and ended up smacking her busted hand on the wall when she went to catch her balance. Pain streaked up her arm, and she just barely managed to keep from crying out. Biting down on her lip, she did her best to push the pain aside and focus on the situation at hand.

It was hot in there. Dangerously so. The windows were closed, and although there was an AC unit in the back window, it wasn't on. The air was close and tight, and there was a faint scent of something that set her teeth on edge.

Taige felt a mad vibration on her hip, and she looked down at her cell phone. Moving to the door, she undid the series of locks before pulling her phone off the clip and reading the message. Jones. Impatient b.a.s.t.a.r.d. He was a good hour away stil , according to the message, although there was a helicopter en route that would be there within thirty minutes.

I plan on getting them out of here in less than ten, Taige thought grimly. Despite the heat in the room, she felt chilled, and the skin on the back of her neck was crawling. She opened the door to let Cul en in, and she stepped to the side as he came through the doorway, taking in the room with one quick glance.

His mouth compressed down to a thin, tight line as he started for the door. Taige shoved the phone into her pocket and rushed to cut Cullen off. She hadn't seen any kind of trap on the door earlier, but looking through the gray didn't always allow for the clearest view, and she wasn't going to take the chance that something nasty was waiting to happen if somebody opened the door unwittingly.

She slammed a hand against Cullen's chest and said, ”Slow down.”

He went to move her aside, and Taige shoved him. ”Wait a d.a.m.n minute, Cul en. Let me make sure it's safe.”

He looked down at her, and there were a few seconds when she wondered if he was really even aware of her as a person. He eyed her as though she was nothing more than an obstacle in his way. Even though she understood, it hurt. Softening her voice, she said, ”Just let me check the door, okay?”

There had been a case three years ago when a dad, a certified lunatic who was convinced the government was trying to brain-wash his wife, had kil ed her and then kidnapped his three kids. For three months, the guy had gone off the map. It wasn't until after the mother's body was found that Taige was brought in. She led Taylor's unit to where the man was hiding his kids, but there had been a trap rigged to the door. When one of the agents opened it, bullets started flying. If it had been anybody other than a very cautious law enforcement agent, they would have needed some body bags.

Taige stil had some bad moments over that one, but it had taught her a very important lesson: people were f.u.c.king crazy.

By the time she was satisfied the door was safe, several minutes had pa.s.sed, and she could all but feel Cullen's impatience as she wrapped her hand around the k.n.o.b and turned it.

Slowly. Easing it open an inch at a time and standing off to the side, just in case. It opened completely, and she felt her legs go watery as she saw Jillian lying on the cot, her face slack, her chest rising and falling. It was every bit as hot in the bathroom as it was in the main room, and a nasty, cold ball of fear settled in Taige's belly as she saw the girl's flushed red face.

She started toward Jillian. Two steps, though, and she froze in place as screams started to echo through her head. Screaming voices, begging for help, begging for death; children begging for their mothers before their voices were forever silenced. A moan rattled up through her tight throat, but she wasn't aware she'd made a sound. Bile churned in her gut, and she fell to her knees, vomiting on the floor.

Her eyes were wide open, but it wasn't the gleaming white tile she saw-or rather, it was, but the tile was covered in blood. Not streaked, but covered so that the white wasn't even visible. Face after face flashed through her mind, and she could hear their voices.

Help me . . .

Don't hurt me . . .

I want my mommy.

There was a laugh, ugly and monstrous. The man's voice was distorted, and try as she might, Taige couldn't see his face. She saw his hands, big and cruel-looking, rising and coming down. Taige flinched away as she felt their pain. So many-there were so many.

”Son of a b.i.t.c.h,” she gasped. ”You son of a b.i.t.c.h.”

Tears blinded her, and she had to wrench herself out of the vision. Her skin crawled as she shoved herself to her feet and stared at the room. The stink of vomit permeated the air. Staring at the narrow cot, she saw them. Children, ranging from mere toddlers to teenagers: black, white, Hispanic, male and female.

Slowly, she turned her head and stared at Cullen. He held Jillian in his arms, patting her face and talking to her in a voice thick with tears and terror as the little girl continued to lie there, unresponsive. ”She needs a doctor,” Taige said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lying in this close, confined heat, the girl was dehydrated. At least. Taige closed the distance between them, and although part of her didn't want to touch the girl at al , she reached out and laid a hand on Jillian's narrow chest. The girl was breathing far too quickly, and her heartbeat was weak and erratic.

But the girl's soul was powerful. Taige felt it wrap around her like a blanket warm from the sun. Relief rushed through her, and she almost sagged to her knees. Thank G.o.d.

Then she pulled her hand back and turned to stare at the room. There was a cabinet under the sink, and Taige crossed to it, opening it up and finding white washcloths, as brilliantly white as the tiles. Grabbing a stack, she turned on the tap water and soaked them through, carrying them back to Cullen and the girl.

She laid one the girl's forehead. Jillian whimpered but didn't open her eyes. ”You got water in the truck?” she asked, draping the other rags over his shoulder.

He lifted his head and stared her, his eyes practically sight-less. ”Yeah,” he murmured.

Then he looked down at Jillian. A sense of hopelessness wrapped around him like a shroud.