table.
Brandon read the receipt. It said that her garment would be ready for pickup at nine AM . It wasn’t much, but it was something. Brandon stormed out of the apartment.
************************
Jada was terrified, but she had calmed herself down enough to think. Croyston was obviously farther off his rocker than anybody had thought. Clearly the police had released him from custody. And clearly he had drugged her with some kind of chemical on that rag. God knows what he planned next. But Jada was no victim. She was a survivor. She reached around in the trunk for something, anything that could help her. She found it underneath one of the carpeted panels. A tire iron sat next to a neatly packed roadside toolkit. There was a set of pliers in the toolkit, a screwdriver, and a wrench. She didn’t think she’d need the smaller tools yet, but the tire iron, that was immediately useful.
She carefully removed it from the underfloor compartment and prodded it forward against the rear of the taillight. One hit, then two, and she got it. Daylight came leaking into the trunk through the jagged hole in the taillight of the car. Now she needed to get a message out. She could only hope that someone would see. And she hoped deep down that someone was Brandon. Because of all the people out there who would fight for her, somehow she knew that he was the one who would never back down. No, if she could get a message to him, Brandon would know exactly what to do.
************************
Brandon spoke to Herb the dry cleaner. Sure Jada had come in not long ago. He had given her a freshly cleaned dress. But where did she go? Herb wasn’t sure. He looked out into the rear parking lot.
“Her car’s still here,” Herb said.
“Thanks,” Brandon replied.
Brandon ran outside, but even though Jada’s black Mercedes was there, Jada wasn’t. He could smell her, though. She had been there recently. He turned. Her scent grew stronger. Was it her? No. Not Jada. Another woman walked by. Where was Jada? He continued toward the rear of the parking lot, following her rich scent. Just the smell of her would have been enough to drive him into delirium if his protective instincts hadn’t already been in overdrive. Something had happened to his mate. But what? Then he saw it. Jada’s yellow silk scarf lay in a heap on the asphalt behind a lamp standard.
Brandon scooped the scarf up, immediately bringing it to his nose. There was no blood, but there was something else. Another smell. Strong. Chemical. Some kind of knockout drug. Brandon’s bear welled up inside of him. If anyone went to this kind of trouble, he knew it was serious. He had little time to save her. But he couldn’t let his bear take control. Not yet. He called the police.
“Yes, sir, I understand. But if she hasn’t been missing for forty-eight hours there’s not a lot we can do,” the duty officer said.
Brandon hung up. He didn’t have time for procedure. He called Greg and told him what he had found. Then he went into the woods behind the parking lot and shifted into his bear form. After that, he ran.
************************
Jada lay uncomfortably cramped in the trunk of the car as the vehicle bumped along the potholed road. She had popped the taillight out of the rear of the car, but nobody had noticed. There hadn’t been a single other car out there. She could, however, see the road behind them and she had an idea where they were headed. North. Past the town, past the ski resort, past everything. It was a dead-end road and there was only one thing up it. The old mine. The road turned to gravel and Jada knew that was where they were heading. She also knew that if she wanted help she needed to tell the world where she was. She reached up to her ear and pulled out her gold earring.
Damn it, she liked those hoops, but they were nothing compared with her life. She tossed the earring out the hole in the back of the car where the taillight had been. Maybe
Brandon read the receipt. It said that her garment would be ready for pickup at nine AM . It wasn’t much, but it was something. Brandon stormed out of the apartment.
************************
Jada was terrified, but she had calmed herself down enough to think. Croyston was obviously farther off his rocker than anybody had thought. Clearly the police had released him from custody. And clearly he had drugged her with some kind of chemical on that rag. God knows what he planned next. But Jada was no victim. She was a survivor. She reached around in the trunk for something, anything that could help her. She found it underneath one of the carpeted panels. A tire iron sat next to a neatly packed roadside toolkit. There was a set of pliers in the toolkit, a screwdriver, and a wrench. She didn’t think she’d need the smaller tools yet, but the tire iron, that was immediately useful.
She carefully removed it from the underfloor compartment and prodded it forward against the rear of the taillight. One hit, then two, and she got it. Daylight came leaking into the trunk through the jagged hole in the taillight of the car. Now she needed to get a message out. She could only hope that someone would see. And she hoped deep down that someone was Brandon. Because of all the people out there who would fight for her, somehow she knew that he was the one who would never back down. No, if she could get a message to him, Brandon would know exactly what to do.
************************
Brandon spoke to Herb the dry cleaner. Sure Jada had come in not long ago. He had given her a freshly cleaned dress. But where did she go? Herb wasn’t sure. He looked out into the rear parking lot.
“Her car’s still here,” Herb said.
“Thanks,” Brandon replied.
Brandon ran outside, but even though Jada’s black Mercedes was there, Jada wasn’t. He could smell her, though. She had been there recently. He turned. Her scent grew stronger. Was it her? No. Not Jada. Another woman walked by. Where was Jada? He continued toward the rear of the parking lot, following her rich scent. Just the smell of her would have been enough to drive him into delirium if his protective instincts hadn’t already been in overdrive. Something had happened to his mate. But what? Then he saw it. Jada’s yellow silk scarf lay in a heap on the asphalt behind a lamp standard.
Brandon scooped the scarf up, immediately bringing it to his nose. There was no blood, but there was something else. Another smell. Strong. Chemical. Some kind of knockout drug. Brandon’s bear welled up inside of him. If anyone went to this kind of trouble, he knew it was serious. He had little time to save her. But he couldn’t let his bear take control. Not yet. He called the police.
“Yes, sir, I understand. But if she hasn’t been missing for forty-eight hours there’s not a lot we can do,” the duty officer said.
Brandon hung up. He didn’t have time for procedure. He called Greg and told him what he had found. Then he went into the woods behind the parking lot and shifted into his bear form. After that, he ran.
************************
Jada lay uncomfortably cramped in the trunk of the car as the vehicle bumped along the potholed road. She had popped the taillight out of the rear of the car, but nobody had noticed. There hadn’t been a single other car out there. She could, however, see the road behind them and she had an idea where they were headed. North. Past the town, past the ski resort, past everything. It was a dead-end road and there was only one thing up it. The old mine. The road turned to gravel and Jada knew that was where they were heading. She also knew that if she wanted help she needed to tell the world where she was. She reached up to her ear and pulled out her gold earring.
Damn it, she liked those hoops, but they were nothing compared with her life. She tossed the earring out the hole in the back of the car where the taillight had been. Maybe
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