Page 61 of Operation: Discovery

They quickly made their way through the wooded area. From listening to sounds, she could tell where the barn and dog kennels were in relation to where she was, and they were going further from the lodge than she wanted to go. Her ankle twisted painfully on a tree root, and she fell, unable to catch herself with her bound hands.

He gripped her arm and hauled her off the ground, then hit her, propelling her forward. “Don’t do that again.”

She couldn’t respond even if she wanted to, so she blinked away the tears gathering in her eyes. If she couldn’t see, she’d fall again. She trudged forward, keeping an eye out for a clear path and a potential escape route.

He veered her away from the sounds until she could hear nothing but silence and the noises of them walking through the woods. Brendon had mentioned security cameras and she prayed there were some where they were walking that this man didn’t know about. He seemed to have a good lay of the property and where he wanted to go, as if he’d been there before many times.

Sunlight peeked through the thinning trees as her captor launched her forward, stumbling over fallen branches and rocks.

“The boat is there. Climb in and don’t do anything stupid. If you do, I’ll just kill you. We don’t need you bad enough to put up with you.”

Which meant that, whatever reason they’d kidnapped her for, would be the end. Once she gave them what they wanted, they’d just kill her. Her breath caught as she fought the urge to cry. Her life had only just begun again. Without her phone, she had nothing she could drop and let them know she’d been there. Her pockets were empty, and she’d taken off her sweatshirt to run. Her ponytail holder was probably the only thing she could leave, but with her hands tied behind her back, reaching it was impossible.

“Get going. I’m not playing around here.” He yanked her ponytail almost toppling her over.

The boat was small out of necessity because the river was small. If she made it out of here, she’d have to let Connor know that the river was a breach in his security system. This guy had rowed right down the river onto their property. Hopefully, he’d also managed to walk by a camera. If she couldn’t leave anything else, she prayed for that visual evidence.

Her shoes sunk into the sand near the boat, soaking her to the skin. The water was frigid, and she shook from the cold but couldn’t rub warmth into her arms. She hadn’t worried about the temperature when she was running, but now she wished she had it.

The man stepped into the boat, making it rock precariously, and she realized he hadn’t even bothered to cover his face. He didn’t think he’d be seen by anyone but her, and he was sure she’d never make it out of the situation alive to tell anyone about his face.Lord, I could use your help.

Hope felt far away as her kidnapper rowed the small canoe-style boat away from Wayside. Away from life and rescue.

ChapterTwenty-Five

Focus on the task.Brendon tried to pay attention to his coming visit with Evie and what he had to ask her, but all he could think about was Dee. He’d called her phone, thinking maybe she’d answer if he was the one who called, but it had gone right to voicemail. Not even a ring.

She’d talked to him that morning about going for a run, then working with Rebecca. That had been her plan, so where could she be? He rolled along a shadowy cement hallway, painted an industrial yellow as if someone had thought the color might bring some cheer, but all it did was make him nauseous.

“The phone room is up ahead. You two will sit on the one side and wait for someone to bring Evie into the other side. You will pass nothing between you. There is an opening for sharing small things, but you will not use it. If you do, you’ll be immediately removed from the room. Understand?” The officer was direct, yet monotone, as if he’d delivered the memorized statement a hundred times.

“Yes.” He had nothing he would give her besides a piece of his mind if he were free to do so. A pen and pad of paper sat on his side of the small room that reminded him a little of the music rooms in college where people could go and practice piano or singing so no one could listen. Otto had been silent since they arrived, and now he wished the man would talk and relieve some of the stress coursing through him.

Otto pulled the other chair in the room to the back corner and removed the other so Brendon could sit facing Evie. “Thanks,” Brendon muttered.

This was it. The one and only chance he’d have to talk to her, and he still hadn’t been blessed with what to say. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to be there. Maybe he was, but information wasn’t why God wanted him there. He kind of wished God had a way of telling him loud and clear what he was supposed to be doing.

He closed his eyes and prayed safety over Dee. He didn’t want to worry about her. He didn’t want to believe for an instant that her disappearance was anything sinister, but how could it be anything but? She was responsible, kind, dutiful. She would never leave Rebecca to fend for herself.

A squeak from the other side of the room drew his attention away from his prayer and he looked up as Evie walked in. Despite being in prison for months since there was nowhere else to house women awaiting trial, she didn’t appear unkempt. In fact, her hair was combed and styled, her jumpsuit fit her well, and her face was clean. She didn’t look overly thin, nor like she’d been sitting in a cell. As she sat down, she leaned forward for the guard to remove her shackles. When he had, she sat back in her chair and looked at him.

“Evie, I’m Brendon Ruse.”

She cocked her head to the side and stared at him, conveying that she knew exactly who he was and why he was there.

“I want to know what you know about Adam Bixby.”

The side of her mouth tipped up in an evil smile, but she made no response.

“I know you own the house where he lives and that you have Frank managing it. He’s in jail, so who is managing it now?” Surely, she could answer that.

Evie made no effort to shrug or give him an answer in any way.

“How are you connected to Viceroy?” That question should’ve been off the table, and he felt Otto suck in his breath, but he wanted to shock Evie out of her silence.

Evie smirked, then picked up the pencil on her side of the plexiglass. Her pencil was fat, like those used for new writers. There was no way to sharpen it enough to be truly dangerous. After a minute of scribbling on the sheet, she tore off the paper and wrote in swirls. The image could’ve been doodles or an answer. It only said ‘none’.

“That’s not true, and we both know it.” How could she deny a connection? Did she really think a judge would believe her?

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