Page 28 of Jack Raider

“Jack!” Fraiser’s voice called from behind. “You got him?”

“Yeah,” I said, breathing hard. “And she’s alive.”

That was all that mattered.

Pamela was still in the back seat when I made it back to the SUV, her knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped tight around them. Dirt streaked her jeans, and one side of her face was red where he'd grabbed her. She flinched when I opened the door.

“Hey,” I said softly, keeping my voice low and calm. “You’re safe now. It’s over.”

She didn’t move right away. Her eyes flicked to my face, still wide with fear. Her voice cracked when she finally spoke.

“Are you a cop?”

“No,” I said, crouching beside the open door. “I’m Jack. Your mom sent us. She’s worried sick about you, kiddo.”

Her eyes filled. She looked away fast, scrubbing at her face like that could erase the tears.

“I didn’t mean for any of this,” she whispered. “I just wanted to get away. I thought… I thought it would be fun.”

“I know.” I nodded. “You thought you would go to Malibu and see famous people. You thought that maybe you would become famous yourself. You didn’t think it would turn dangerous this fast.”

She didn’t answer, but I saw how her chin trembled.

“Pamela,” I said gently, “you were brave to survive the last few days. But you don’t have to do this alone anymore. We’re going to take you home. Safe and whole. That guy’s not getting near you again.”

Her lower lip wobbled. “Is my mom gonna hate me?”

“Your mom’s going to cry like a waterfall when she sees you.” I offered her my hand. “Let’s go home.”

She hesitated for a second, then took it.

Her fingers were cold.

When she stepped out, I wrapped a blanket someone handed me around her shoulders and kept her close as we walked to the waiting vehicle. “You okay?” Frasier asked quietly once Pamela was tucked safely inside.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said.

We drove through the night.

Pamela fell asleep halfway to the airfield, head resting against my shoulder like she’d finally let herself believe she was safe.

And when I finally had a moment to myself, I pulled out my phone and called the one person I wanted to talk to.

Eloise answered on the first ring.

“Did you find her?” she breathed.

“She’s okay. We got her out.”

12

Eloise

“Why wouldTony Thompson bring a full-size bull for me to look at?” I asked Jenny as she stood there, as if she didn’t know what to say. “Did you remind him I wasn’t a large animal veterinarian?”

“Yes, I told him again. He didn’t say anything. I watched him through the window, and he walked outside and took the bull out of its trailer.”

I washed my hands. I wasn’t happy. This had been a bad day since I woke up, and poor Tinkle, Mable’s disguarded fifteen year old cat was lying in her bed, dead. I cried like a baby. Then I dug a hole out back and buried her.

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