Page 53 of Elsie's Strong Shelter

Dean’s heart hammered against his chest, threatening to break through. “What do you mean? She got a text from you saying you needed help with Jimmy.”

“No,” Mrs. Sweet said, drawing out the word. “I never texted her. She must be mistaken. Hold on.” Sitting, she dragged her purse onto her lap and rummaged through it. “Dang it. I can’t find my phone. John, will you call me? I swear, I can never keep track of this blasted thing.”

“Sure. One second.” John unclipped his phone from its holder on the side of his belt. “Okay. It’s calling.”

Mrs. Sweet held the purse to her ear. “I don’t hear it or see it.”

Alarm screeched out a warning in Dean’s brain. “Try calling Elsie.”

John fiddled with his phone. “No one’s picking up. Went to voicemail.”

Without another word, Dean dropped Boo’s leash and sprinted toward the building. “Elsie!” He took in his surroundings as he ran. Kids played and squealed while their parents watched. A few people strolled along a far path thatwound around to the woods. A couple pushed a baby stroller toward a minivan.

But no Elsie.

He reached the women’s bathroom and pounded on the door. “Elsie! Are you in there?” When no one answered, he shoved open the door to find the room empty.

Shit, shit, shit.

Running from the room, he raced to the men’s room and rushed inside.

Empty.

He hurried back out, his gut sinking low and fear heightening his awareness as he turned a small circle to look in every direction.

Mr. Sweet stood under the pavilion, worry widening his eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Dean swallowed the bile sliding up his throat. His stomach churned, his pulse beating against his temples. “Elsie’s gone.”

Terror twisted Elsie’sinsides so tight she could barely breathe. She clutched her hands in her lap as Justin Pauly sped down the highway, leaving her family and Dean behind. A million questions raced through her mind, but she couldn’t push any words through the dryness of her mouth.

Justin gripped the wheel at ten and two, his focus squarely out the windshield. The gun sat on his lap.

The ringing of her phone cut through the silence and stretched her nerves tight. There went the hope that Justin wouldn’t be smart enough to take it from her before she got a chance to use it.

“Throw that phone out the window.” Justin cut his gaze to her then back to the road. “Don’t try anything cute.”

Indecision slowed her response as she fished her phone from her pocket. Her dad’s face flashed on the screen. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. If she could accept the call before tossing out her phone, maybe even scream a few words, she might stand a chance.

Justin picked up the gun and pointed it at her head. His hand shook slightly, and he darted his gaze between her and the road at a panicked pace. “I said get rid of it. Now!”

Not wanting to upset him further, she rolled down the window and tossed out the phone. Wind whipped through the car, the cold air skimming her face. Her finger trembled as she pushed the button to bring the window back up.

A few minutes of silence heightened the tension in the car. She kept her eyes on the signs they passed, but the country roads weren’t clearly marked. The landscape flew by. The colorful trees and winding roads all blended together. Nothing stood out or announced which way they headed, although a sense of familiarity scratched at her brain.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, unable to stay quiet a second longer.

“You wanted to find your friend, didn’t you? Well, now you’re going to get a real good look at her.”

A pitch of excitement waded through her fear. If he took her to Mila, they could work together to figure out how to get help.

But only if she was still alive.

“Is she all right? Did you hurt her?”

Justin shrugged and tightened his grip on the wheel. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Irritation gritted her teeth. This bastard had stolen her friend, caused heartbreak to people she loved, then kidnapped her at gunpoint and couldn’t be bothered to tell her what he’ddone to Mila? Anger battled against common sense, screaming at her to act. Fight back. Do something to show this asshole he’d pay for what he’d done.

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