Page 97 of High Frequency

A series of well-aimed whacks, and I notice the door having a bit more give. I put my shoulder in again, and then once more, when I hear the wood splinter as the ends of the screws break away from the post. Picking up the walking stick I dropped, I push open the door and walk inside.

“Are you okay?” is my first question as I crouch down beside Shelby.

Her blouse is ripped open, exposing a lacy shelf bra supporting ample breasts. She’s shaking and clearly terrified, eyeing the open door behind me. Any edge she had this morning at the feedstore is long gone.

“He’ll be back,” she sobs.

If someone is coming back, I realize they’d be able to tell something was wrong from a distance with the door open. If it’s the same person who shot at me, they have a rifle and could shoot up this place and us in it without coming close enough for me to stand a chance with my gun.

I get up and close the door. He’ll have to come close enough to see the broken hinge. It’ll give me a fighting chance.

Unless I can get us out of here first, but looking at those heavy metal chains bolted into the wooden beams, I’m not so sure. Those are bolts, not like the wood screws holding the door lock together. The cuffs on her wrist are not standard handcuffs but look like something from the Middle Ages; rusted, with a wider metal band and an actual keyhole.

“Who is coming back?” I ask her as I crouch back down.

I notice dried blood on the side of her neck and follow it up past her ear and into her hairline. A knock on her head? She does seem out of it, could be with fear, could also be a head injury of some kind.

“Shelby?” I prompt her. “Who is coming back?”

“He thought I told you, but I never told,” she suddenly rattles, grabbing my hand so tight I’m afraid she’ll snap my fingers. “Don’t tell on family, and I never did, but he didn’t believe me. He’s going to kill me…” Her eyes, wide and terrified, turn on me. “You too.”

“No one is going to kill us,” I assure her. “I’m going to get us out of here.”

Family? Is she talking about Cedric or someone else?

Her father?

As soon as the thought enters my mind, I shake it off. I can’t imagine her father doing something like this. Then again, I would never have thought my own father would almost kill my mother and then himself.

At this point it doesn’t matter, all that matters is getting us safely out of here.

I check the cuffs again. If I had a piece of metal wire, I might be able to jiggle the old lock, but I don’t carry paperclips on me, and my hair’s too short for pins.

I look around the cabin, checking to see if there’s anything I might be able to use, but there’s nothing that would serve the purpose.

For once I wish I was partial to underwire bras, but I hate the way those cut into my chest. I turn to look back at Shelby, huddled on the mattress, her blouse gaping open.

“Hey, Shelby?” I sit on my knees in front of her. “I need to get you out of these cuffs, but I’m going to need the underwire in your bra to do it.”

My initial thought is my request caused the panic in her face, but then I hear it…

The sound of an engine approaching.

“It’s him,” she whispers.

Her eyes are wild as she turns to me.

“My cousin.”

Twenty-Eight

Dan

“What are you doing?”

I look over my shoulder at Wolff, who catches up with me just as I’m starting up the trail.

“Coming with you.”

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