Bug Man Suspense 3-in-1 Bundle (94 page)

“Alena!” he whispered.

There was no response.

“Alena, it's me—Nick!”

The body didn't move.

He took the wooden ladder from the hayloft and lowered it into the pit, then scrambled down and knelt beside Alena. He felt her face; it was hot and she was drenched in sweat, but her body was rigid from head to toe as if she were locked in a grand mal seizure—or as if she had died and rigor had set in. Nick placed two fingers under her jaw and checked her carotid just to make sure—he found a pulse. He took her by the shoulders and gently shook her, but she still didn't respond. He gently peeled the tape from her mouth, then rolled her onto her side and freed her wrists and ankles. He laid her on her back again and took her hands, rubbing them and shaking them vigorously.

“Come on, Alena. Come back to me.”

She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him without recognition.

“Hi,” he said. “Remember me?”

She reached up and touched his face. “Nick.”

“You know, you're a hard woman to locate. I think you take this privacy thing a bit too far.”

“How did you ever find me?”

“Trygg found you. Sorry it took so long. It was the bandannas—I couldn't remember which one told her to do what.”

“The blue one. It's for ‘putrefied remains.' The orange one—that's ‘distressed victim.'”

“That explains why we missed you on the first pass—I was telling her to look for the wrong thing. She went right to you this time; lucky thing you were ‘in distress.'”

“Yeah. Lucky me.” She looked over Nick's shoulder and saw Trygg staring down at her from the edge of the pit. “Nick—that man—he killed Acheron. He hit me—he brought me here—”

“We'll talk about it later,” Nick said. “Right now we need to get you out of here. Can you walk?” He helped her to a sitting position.

“My head,” she groaned.

Nick gently felt the top of her head. “You've got a real goose egg there, but I don't feel any blood. Look, I'm sorry—I know you don't feel up to this, but we've got to get you out of this barn before Riddick decides to come back again.” He helped her to stand and walked her to the ladder, then stayed close behind while she slowly climbed one rung at a time. When they reached the barn floor Alena crawled onto the dirt and sat with her arm around Trygg while Nick replaced the threshing floor and swept dirt over its surface again.

“That should do it,” he said, dusting off his hands. “It'll look like no one was here—at least until he opens it up again, and we'd better be long gone by then. Come on, let's get out of here.”

Nick eased the barn door open and looked at the house; the interior lights were still burning but he saw no sign of activity. Alena was woozy and wobbly on her feet; Nick kept his arm around her to steady her as they walked. He closed the barn door behind them and looked to the left and right, estimating the shortest distance back to the truck. The way he had come was definitely longer—the shortest route would be to continue in the same direction around the house, past the final outbuilding and along the edge of a field of tall grass. He looked at Alena and pointed; when she nodded they took off, making their way as fast as Alena's aching head would allow.

Fifty yards ahead they passed the final outbuilding—the one that Nick and Trygg didn't have time to search. It was a long, narrow building surrounded by a tall chain-link fence. It looked somehow familiar to Nick, as though he had seen it before or one just like it. He tried to remember, and then it occurred to him.

It was a kennel.

He straightened a little and felt the wind blowing across his face. It was blowing from left to right; it was blowing toward the kennel.

“Hurry,” he said to Alena, no longer bothering to whisper.

“I can't,” she groaned. “My head feels like it's going to explode.”

“Try,” Nick said. “See that building?”

Alena glanced over at it and recognized it immediately; she looked down and watched the movement of the wind through her hair, then looked up at Nick: “Too late.”

All at once the kennel erupted with the sound of barking dogs, as if someone had just removed the MUTE on a television turned up to full volume. There were at least a dozen dogs, all howling and yowling and baying in furious protest at the scent of an intruder.

“Do we smell that bad?” Nick asked.

“It's Trygg—she's coming into season.”

“Terrific,” Nick said. “Right when we pass a fraternity house.”

The security light behind the house switched on again and the entire area lit up like a Friday night football field.

“Run!” Nick said. “We've got to make it to that tall grass before he spots us.”

“I can't,” she said.

“We don't have a choice.” They ran side by side with Nick's arm still around her waist; he caught her when she stumbled and dragged her when her legs went limp. They reached the edge of the field just as they heard the door open behind them. They collapsed in the grass and lay panting; Alena hooked one arm around Trygg's neck and pulled the dog down beside her. Nick twisted around and looked out through the tall grass; he could see Riddick standing in the center of the lawn and turning back and forth, searching for the source of the intrusion.

“Stay down,” Nick said. “When he goes into the barn to look for you, we'll have to run for it. It'll take a minute or so before he finds out you're gone—maybe we can get to the truck by then.”

“Do you think we can make it?”

“We'd better—because he'll be coming after us.”

A few seconds later Nick saw Riddick turn and charge across the lawn toward the hay barn. “Get ready,” he told Alena.

He watched Riddick throw the barn door open and duck inside; he could hear the piercing shriek of the wheels even above the barking dogs.

“Now!” Nick said, grabbing Alena by the arm and hauling her to her feet.

They stumbled forward through the tall grass. The thick strands wrapping around Alena's ankles made progress exhausting and agonizingly slow. She stumbled more than once, then finally collapsed on all fours and vomited in the grass.

Nick squatted down beside her. “Take a minute—catch your breath.”

“Go on without me,” she whispered.

“Not a chance.”

“I mean it—take Trygg and go.”

Nick paused. “You know, I never realized what a whiner you are.”

She turned her head and looked at him. “What?”

“Look at Trygg—she's only got three legs, and you don't see her complaining.”

“I got hit on the head. It feels like my brains are coming out my ears.”

“What a drama queen. Should I send the dog out for an ice pack?”

“You know, you're really starting to make me mad.”

“That's the general idea. Can we go now?” Nick poked his head up from the grass and looked back at the barn—still no sign of Riddick. “Let's go—we won't have long.”

They started forward again, keeping to the tall grass, working their way past the house and up the road toward the grove of trees where Nick had ditched the truck. Nick glanced back as he ran, watching the barn door for any sign of Riddick; when Riddick finally did appear, Nick dropped into the grass and pulled Alena down with him. “He's back— he knows you're gone and he knows I'm the one who took you. He has to find you again—his life depends on it.”

Nick poked his head up just enough to see; he saw Riddick turn to his right and start across the lawn toward the kennels.

Nick turned to Alena. “What kind of dogs are those, anyway? Can you tell by the way they bark?”

She listened. “The big ones are July hounds or English Fell hounds— maybe a Bouvier or two. I hear a PennMaryDel in there—you can always tell their voice. The higher pitches are beagles—why?”

“Are they good trackers?”

“They're foxhounds, Nick—what do you think?”

Nick took her by the arm. “I think we'd better run.”

41

Nick looked at Alena. “Are you sure you should be driving?”

“Do you know these roads as well as I do?”

“No—but if you drive the way you run, we could have a big problem.”

“I'll be okay.”

The pickup truck sped down the narrow road away from Bradenton; the stacked stone walls that lined both sides of the street looked like nothing but gray streaks of paint in the truck's brilliant headlights. The engine emitted a constant high-pitched whine, and the dashboard rattled and clicked until Nick wondered if the old Toyota would shake itself apart.

He glanced at the speedometer. “How fast will this thing go?”

“I don't know, but it sure beats running.”

They had made it safely to the truck before the hounds could reach them; they hurriedly loaded Trygg into the back and sped out of the grove of river birches and left the indignant hounds baying in the moonlight behind them. They had seen no further sign of Riddick, but Nick knew exactly where he was—he was not far behind them, driving just as fast as he could to try to stop them before they could tell anyone what they now knew.

Alena looked in her side mirror. “Is he following us? Can you see him?”

Nick leaned out the passenger window and saw a pair of glowing pinpoints in the distance. “I see headlights,” he shouted. “What kind of car was he driving?”

“Beats me—I woke up in a dungeon.”

“Well, we should know soon enough.”

“Who is he, anyway? What did he want with me?”

“His name is Chris Riddick—he works as a security guard for John and Victoria Braden. He wants to kill you.”

“Why?”

“It's a little complicated. There's an old woman who lives in Endor. She's the librarian there—her name is Agnes. Do you know her?”

“I know who she is—she's the one who killed my father.”

“Who told you?”

“That man—the one you called Riddick. What I want to know is, why did she do it?”

“To keep your father from uncovering a secret.”

“What secret?”

“That Victoria Braden is actually her daughter.”

“But—how could my father have uncovered that?”

“He couldn't—but apparently a couple of other men could have over the years, so Agnes killed them. She only killed your father to keep him from finding their graves. I'm guessing that Riddick was after you for the same reason. I think the Bradens were involved; maybe they didn't want the information coming out just before the election.”

“The Bradens? I don't understand.”

“Neither do I. I'm still piecing it together.”

Alena abruptly jerked the wheel and steered the pickup onto a smaller road.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my place. I know a shortcut.”

“That's no good. We need to find a police station.”

“Great idea—just tell me where to turn.”

Nick stopped. His entire focus had been on reaching the truck and getting Alena out of there before Riddick knew she was missing; he hadn't thought at all about where they would go next. “We could look for a town,” he suggested. “Pull off someplace where there are lots of people around—maybe a mall or a restaurant.”

“There are no malls around here—why do you think they're building the Patriot Center? There's practically nothing between here and Endor, and nothing's open this time of night anyway. There's a thousand acres of forest at my place and I know every inch of it. If we can just get there a few seconds before he does we can duck into the woods and hide—I know places that he could never find.”

Nick considered her idea. “Okay—we'll go to your place. We'll hide out there until he gives up and quits looking for us—then we can contact the authorities.”

“I think that car is getting closer. Are you sure it's him? Can you tell?”

Nick looked out the window again and saw the headlights turn off onto the same smaller road that they had—and they were definitely closer now.

“It has to be him—he'll be on us in another couple of minutes. Step on it—maybe we'll get lucky and pass a cop along the way.”

They raced past a green sign pointing to I-66 West.

“You just missed the freeway entrance!”

“I saw it,” she said. “We don't want the freeway.”

“Why not? It's the fastest way.”

“Maybe for him. We'd never outrun him on the freeway—not in this old wreck. What's he driving?”

“Looks like a silver BMW 550i sedan. Probably belongs to the Bradens—it's too pricey for his pay grade.”