Page 52 of Grissom
At last, her slippered feet, then her knocking knees, passed the sturdy branch the rope now hung loosely over, its slack looping down beside her in thin air. The goal was not simply to escape, but to escape with style. To always—always!—go above and beyond expectations. To show that jerk how much better than him she would always be.
Sucking in a gut full of‘I can do this!’at the same time her endurance began to falter, she levered the leg closest to the branch over and—finally—hooked her trembling knee over the sturdy branch. Lifting her other leg over the branch came easier, since her full weight was already fully supported.
A last. Whew! She pulled herself upright and satonthe branch. Looking down at the ground, Tuesday sucked in a deep breath of wintry air, then searched the surrounding landscape for Grissom’s house. Whoa. It was farther away than she expected.
Dropping her hands and arms to her sides, Tuesday let them swing loose until the adrenaline that had powered her escape eased up and her jackhammering heart rate settled closer to normal rhythm. Didn’t take long, which was good because there wasn’t time to waste. She blew out another gut full of determination, breathing hard and dizzy, but successful. And mindful.
Whoever’d accomplished this kidnapping was no mastermind. They’d just gotten lucky. First by unexpectedly running into her with that darn brick. Secondly, by the weather. The snow made moving her easy. Well, she was awake now and she was pissed.
It took mere seconds to undo the childish knots binding her ankles. Jumping back to Earth, she landed on both feet and one clenched fist. Three points. Like aMarvelsuperhero.
The kidnapper hadn’t really wanted her, or he wouldn’t have left her behind. Her kidnapping was a sham, a hastily planned, poorly executed attempt to pull Grissom away from his house. The only reasons that came to mind were Tanner and Luke.
Worried for their safety now, Tuesday followed the compressed, smooth trail back toward the house, until she realized those bright red dots in the snow were not lady bugs. Surprised, make that shocked, she lifted a hand and gently touched two fingers to her aching forehead. Her fingertips came away wet and bloody. She had a deep gash above her eye.Ouch. That hurt.
Another slice trailed down her cheekbone, cutting into her lower jaw. Bricks were sharp.Ow.It was no wonder her head was buzzing and her footsteps, that should’ve crunched the frozen ground, were muffled, as if she were walking underwater. Darn. She might have a concussion. Shocked she hadn’t felt any pain until then, Tuesday ran the rest of the slick trail, back to the boys she adored.
Where was Grissom? Surely he’d be searching for her by now.
At last, the rear of his house came into view. Darned if someone wasn’t standing at the deck’s sliders. She was nearly on the top step when Grissom’s alarm shrieked one painfully long blast. She faltered, clapping both hands over her ears to keep her poor head from splitting apart. Didn’t matter that the sliders were now ajar or that the guy had gone inside. She didn’t care how big or mean he thought he was. She would go through him to save those boys. She had to. Who cared if she didn’t have a weapon? She didn’t. But she did need that blasted siren to cease and desist. Sound waves at the right decibel were destructive,and her aching head was feeling every last bit of those fierce waves now.
That short, squatty guy in black was inside Grissom’s house, facing Tanner and Luke, both still in their red and green Christmas pajamas.Luke held a small plastic bag in his hand. His eyes were squeezed tight, probably from the alarm. His cheeks were puffed and red. Something gooey dripped down his chin. Tanner was reaching around Luke to get the bag. Luke had the hand with that bag stretched away from Tanner, while he held his other arm stiff behind him, keeping Tanner at bay.
And that person in black was…
Tuesday borrowed Grissom’s favorite cuss word. “Fuck!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The blood on the trail grew lighter the farther Grissom tracked into the trees. Instead of taking a direct route, which would’ve been smart, whoever had abducted Tuesday had veered west before turning eastward, into the trees. He wanted to scream her name, desperate for Tuesday to answer. But he couldn’t risk alerting her attacker. Not willing to wait until the trail ran out, he jerked his cell phone out of his pocket, and called Alex, like he’d wanted to do at the start of this shitshow.
“B-boss. Sorry, I know it’s Christmas, and you’re with your family, but—”
“What do you need?” Alex barked like the Rottweiler he could be.
“Someone’s kidnapped Tuesday. She’s bleeding, Boss. There’s blood on my driveway and more heading into the trees behind my place and—”
“On my way. Call Mother. Tell her to pull footage from every security camera within twenty miles.” The phone went dead.
Grissom shook it to reactivate the screen, in case he’d accidentally disconnected Alex. But no. His screen flashedcall ended. Knowing Alex, he’d be on site within minutes. Heading deeper into his trees, Grissom wondered who else Alex might call. Not a good day for anyone to be asked to leave their families, but damned if Grissom cared.
He was deep within his twenty-acre tree farm when Alex caught up with him. The guy was dressed in a USMC t-shirt and jeans. No jacket. He must’ve driven right over, then tracked Grissom. Tossing a set of earbuds as he passed by, Alex ordered, “Tell me what you know.”
Grissom caught the earbuds and inserted them deep in his ear canal, where they’d keep him in contact with everyone on the same frequency. “She didn’t come back after she took the garbage out. I found blood near the trash receptacle, then the tracks I’m following now. Whoever grabbed her—”
“Dragged her, understood. Which means she’s not fighting back, and she’s hurt. Who’s with your boys?”
“No one. They know better than to open any outside doors while I’m gone.”
“This might take a while. You sure about that?”
Damned good question. The bloody smears on the snow faded the further into the trees Grissom went, but the drag marks hadn’t. “I had no choice. Have to find Tuesday.”
He was shoulder to shoulder with Alex as they dodged dozens of six-foot, then eight-foot saplings. Then nine-footers. They were nearly to the other side of his land, when the trail ran out and—
“Shit,” he hissed, his mouth dry. There was no sign of Tuesday. Just a mixed-up mess of boot tracks, and a long, nylon rope dangling from the eighty-foot tall shagbark hickory that straddled the property line he shared with his neighbor to the north.
Grissom knelt and studied the assailant’s prints. “We’re looking for a guy. One set of tracks. Size thirteen boots. Light tactical, military, all-terrain. Rounded toe. Anti-skid soles.”
