Page 94 of The Coworker
But it’s too late. The line is dead.
I try calling him back, but it immediately goes to voicemail. Shane isn’t bringing Josh back. I don’t know where he is, but he knows I have figured out his game. I have lost my advantage. And even if he comes back eventually to try to hurt me, he’ll be smart about it. He’s going to wait a long time—until the heat is off.
For some reason, the thought of facing off against Shane doesn’t scare me. What scares me is what’s going to happen to my son. I can’t let that monster get away with this.
I grab onto the railing of the stairs to haul myself to my feet. The second I try to put weight on my right ankle, it screams in pain. It’s definitely sprained, possibly broken. I’m afraid to pull off my boots to assess the damage, and it won’t do any good, anyway. It won’t help me find Shane and Josh.
I type 911 into my phone with shaking fingers. He won’t get away with taking Josh. There will be an amber alert, they will find him, and Shane will go back to prison. He doesn’t even have a car—he may have taken my keys, but the Toyota is still right here. The police will find them. I’m sure of it.
Except when I try to connect the call, it won’t go through. I squint down at the screen of my phone.
No service.
It’s almost too much of a coincidence that my service cut off just when Shane hung up with me. Does he have some sort of blocker to prevent cell phones from working? Is that what he and Tim did that night eleven years ago, to ensure none of us could call for help?
What am I going to do? If I have no cell service and no vehicle, my best bet is to walk to the main road. But I’m not sure I can even put weight on my ankle.
I have no choice though. Even if I’m walking on a broken ankle, it doesn’t matter. I have to do this for Josh. I can’t let that monster steal him and do God knows what to him.
I put some weight on my right ankle. The pain is almost blinding, but I push through it. For Josh. I’m doing this for Josh.
I limp down the road, every step like a knife stabbing me in the ankle. I don’t know how I’m going to do this, but I’m going to do it. I’m not going to stop moving until I get to the main road, and then I’m going to flag down a car.
But to my shock and relief, I see a car coming down the road, right toward me. It’s a green SUV, like the one Margie drives. Oh, thank God. I don’t have to keep walking on my possibly broken ankle. I wave my hands in the air like I did that night eleven years ago. The SUV skids to a halt.
“Help me!” I scream. “My son has been kidnapped! Please help! Please!”
The driver’s side door opens up. To my utter shock, Margie gets out of the car, her gray eyebrows knitted together. “Brooke!” she cries. “Are you okay?”
What a strange coincidence that Margie would happen to be coming down this road right now. But I can’t dwell on that. There’s no time.
“Josh has been kidnapped!” I manage as I limp toward her. “He’s in the woods somewhere. We need to call the police. He’s in terrible danger.”
Margie’s eyes drop to my feet. “What happened? You’re limping.”
“I slipped on the snow.” I am mildly irritated that I need to explain this to her when there is something so urgent happening. “I’m not getting any service. Can you see if your phone works so we can call the police?”
“Of course!” Margie reaches into the car and pulls out her giant purse. She rifles around until she finds her phone. “Oh fudge, there’s no service.”
I expected that. “Fine, then we’ll have to drive to the police station. Let’s go—now.”
Margie swivels her head to look out at the woods. “Are you sure he’s in danger? I mean, he’s with his father. I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Margie—” I start to say, but then I stop myself.
I never told Margie that Shane was Josh’s father. I never even told her I was with Shane. And I certainly never told her where I was today. Even though she doesn’t look the slightest bit surprised to see me here.
“Margie?” I say.
Her lips curl slightly. “That’s not actually my name. We have met before, and you do know me by my real name, but I doubt you would remember it. Of course you wouldn’t.” She titters. “In fact, I’ll tell you what, Brooke. If you can tell me my real first name, I’ll take you right to Shane and Josh.”
I stare at her wrinkled face, trying desperately to place her. While I’m trying to figure it out, she sifts around in her purse again. But this time, instead of her phone, she pulls out a gun.
And she points it right at me.
Chapter 52
I don’t understand what’s happening here. Why does Margie have a gun? What is she doing here? How does she know Shane is Josh’s dad? I’m sure I never told her that. I never told anyone except Tim—and he wouldn’t have told her.
