Page 323 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“I’ll tell them you weren’t there when I arrived to drive the bird to the rehab center. Before we left, I left frantic messages for you wondering why you weren’t at the park office when I arrived.” He lifted a phone from his service belt. “I took this from you when you were busy securing the owl in the back.”

“They’ll want to know why you drove my service vehicle instead of your own.”

“Mine had a flat tire, so I took yours. You took off in the middle of your shift. Must’ve gone to help Austin find his pap. I’ll make sure to change my tire when I return, and nobody will be the wiser. They’ll realize you neglected your duties and ran off to play hero.”

“Nobody will believe that.”

He pushed open a door. “You’d be surprised what people will believe.” His chuckle increased her nausea. “Get moving.”

Once inside, he kept one hand on his Glock, he rummaged through a bag on the kitchen counter and pulled out a rag and a bottle of something. A television played at full volume in a nearby room. He handed her the bottle and the cloth. “Put a generous amount on it.”

“I’m not going to help you drug me.” She defiantly tossed the items across the room.

He moved closer and held the pistol to the base of her skull.

“Walk.” She did as he said, and as she entered the adjacent room, her gaze fell on the elderly man watching TV. He raised his eyes to stare at them, and she saw the confusion in his expression.

Pete whispered in her ear. “If you don’t want me to shoot old man Crawley, you’ll follow my instructions.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and shot a prayer heavenward. “I’ll comply.”

He pushed her back into the other room. “Pick that stuff up and do as you were told.”

She did. Soaking the rag with liquid, she prayed for a miracle. He grabbed her from behind, snatched the rag from her, then held it over her mouth and nose. She struggled to turn her face away from the cloth, but the sound of the television grew distant, and she felt herself floating on the edge of nothingness.

Emily could heareverything around her, but kept her eyes shut and her body limp, feigning unconsciousness as Pete carried her across a field. If he knew she was awake, she wouldn’t stand a chance against his superior physical strength. Especially considering her throbbing head felt heavy and dense from the drug.

Pete pulled open a door carved into the landscape and shifted her weight before carrying her down a ladder and depositing her on a dirt floor. She listened as he left again. She heard a scraping sound and the darkness thickened as he closed her into her tomb.

Crawling around, she inspected the space. She presumed it was a root cellar. She'd never been in one, but it was damp, and smelled of earth and rotting food from days gone by. She was on her own. If she wanted to survive, she’d need to rescue herself. Her hand felt the splintered wood of the ladder, and she climbed it. She used every ounce of strength she could muster to push against the door, but there was no give. Giving up, she climbed down.

She felt around on the dirt floor, hoping to find something she could use to fight back against Pete, but came up empty.

Curling into a tiny ball, she gave in to tears. A plan—she had to come up with some kind of plan.

Prayers fell from her lips as she resumed her search for something to use as a weapon when her captor came back. He'd be back. Her imagination played up the horrid things he would do to her if she couldn’t escape. But she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

It was a warm day, but the sun hadn’t heated the space she occupied. It remained cool and dank. She wished she could have a few more minutes with Wade to confess her love. She'd relished his words but hadn’t reciprocated. He deserved to hear how she felt about him, but now she couldn’t tell him. She hoped he knew.

In the past few months, he'd gone above and beyond to keep her safe, and she hadn’t been altogether cooperative.

Emily was curledup in a ball in the corner of the root cellar when she heard a creaking sound that told of the return of her captor. She was ready for him. She'd rehearsed the self-defense moves drilled into her after Nora's disappearance and again in her training to become a law-enforcement ranger.

If she remained quiet, Pete might think she was still unconscious. She’d take any advantage she could gain.

The stairs creaked above her and she remained silent as he descended them. She had to temporarily incapacitate him in order to escape. If she didn't get it right, she wouldn’t live to tell about it. Not only was he physically stronger, but he was highlyintelligent. Even smart people made mistakes. When he made one, she would make it count.

Her breathing was labored as his hunched-over form approached. There was a glint in his eyes. The space wasn’t large enough for him to stand up straight.

He stopped two feet in front of her, and she stood, her hair brushing the earth above her.

“All these years, I never imagined making you one of my ladies. When you dug your nose into my business, you sealed your fate.”

“You act like this is some kind of game, Pete.”

He grinned.How had she ever considered him handsome? He was the embodiment of evil.

She had to strike now, before he could take hold on her. She executed a perfect roundhouse kick to his jaw, and he staggered back. But before she could run, he seized hold of her leg and yanked hard. Her head made contact with the hard ground and excruciating pain splintered through her. She needed to keep fighting. She reached out and grasped the ladder. Pete grabbed her, pulling her away from her means of escape.

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