Read Online Twin Threat Christmas by Rachelle McCalla - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rachelle McCalla
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but I don’t want to find out.”
For the next few minutes, he tried to focus on driving, on getting to the cabin as quickly as possible. But focusing on anything other than the woman beside him was extremely difficult. He still didn’t see how they were going to get through the night—evading both the human-trafficking ring and the police.
Then a ringing sound cut through the silence. The phone Vanessa had used earlier to call the police lit up with an incoming call. Vanessa looked at the screen and swallowed hard. “It’s the county sheriff’s office—they’re calling me back.”
“I guess you should answer it.”
“I guess so.” Vanessa’s voice trembled, but she answered the ringing phone.
Eric wished he could hear the other side of the conversation, but he was able to gather quite a bit by what Vanessa said.
“They weren’t too scared? Good. Thank you, I appreciate that.” Her voice hitched, and when Eric glanced her way, he saw strain on her face. “Yes. What Debbi has told you is all true. I have evidence. A computer and some files. We were headed for the cabin.” She paused, and her voice became quieter, more reluctant. “We’ll meet you there.” She closed the call.
“The sheriff’s office is sending someone to meet us at the cabin?” Eric guessed.
“Yes. Two deputies. They want to have a look at the evidence we gathered.”
Eric felt a mixture of anxiety and relief. He knew Vanessa was risking a lot by meeting with the deputies, but he couldn’t help feeling slightly safer knowing armed officers of the law would be there, when and if Virgil and his men showed up. The trick, of course, would be convincing the police that Vanessa wasn’t a murderer—and getting them on their side before the real murderers arrived.
Taking back roads and driving quickly, Eric arrived at the cabin to discover a county sheriff’s vehicle parked outside.
Vanessa grabbed the evidence she’d gathered and gave him a quick, frightened look. But then, with not a moment to waste, she hopped from the vehicle and hurried toward the cabin, clutching the CPU to her chest.
* * *
Knowing they wouldn’t have much time before Virgil and the other thugs showed up, Vanessa forced herself to run toward the cabin’s front door, instead of away from it. Somehow, knowing the deputies were probably waiting on the other side was even more terrifying than facing the shotgun Eric had held—probably because she knew Eric and trusted him deep down, on a level she hadn’t trusted anyone in a long time. And Jeff had made terrible claims about what would happen if she ever tried to go to the authorities—of how he’d counter her story, offer lies and fabricated evidence as proof, how he’d get custody of their children and leave her to rot in jail.
But Jeff was dead now.
She burst in the front door to find two uniformed officers waiting for her. A woman who appeared to be in her mid-forties stood by the kitchen counter, and a younger man stood from the couch as she stepped inside.
“I’m Vanessa Jackson,” she announced. The sweet relief of using her own name after so many years helped to ease her fear.
The younger officer approached her. His name badge said Perez. He asked Vanessa, “Do you have any identification?”
“No. Everything was taken from me.” She realized as she spoke the words how true they were. Jeff had taken everything—her innocence, her identity, her instinct to trust others. Even now, she wondered if the deputies would believe her and try to help her or keep her girls from her and lock her away, just as Jeff had threatened.
“The incident earlier this evening in a Chicago suburb...” Officer Perez began.
Vanessa gulped a breath, trying to think how best to begin her defense. Jeff had hated every word she’d ever used to defend herself, had beat her into submission until she only stood up for her kids, never for herself. She’d take any beating if it meant protecting her kids. Now
For the next few minutes, he tried to focus on driving, on getting to the cabin as quickly as possible. But focusing on anything other than the woman beside him was extremely difficult. He still didn’t see how they were going to get through the night—evading both the human-trafficking ring and the police.
Then a ringing sound cut through the silence. The phone Vanessa had used earlier to call the police lit up with an incoming call. Vanessa looked at the screen and swallowed hard. “It’s the county sheriff’s office—they’re calling me back.”
“I guess you should answer it.”
“I guess so.” Vanessa’s voice trembled, but she answered the ringing phone.
Eric wished he could hear the other side of the conversation, but he was able to gather quite a bit by what Vanessa said.
“They weren’t too scared? Good. Thank you, I appreciate that.” Her voice hitched, and when Eric glanced her way, he saw strain on her face. “Yes. What Debbi has told you is all true. I have evidence. A computer and some files. We were headed for the cabin.” She paused, and her voice became quieter, more reluctant. “We’ll meet you there.” She closed the call.
“The sheriff’s office is sending someone to meet us at the cabin?” Eric guessed.
“Yes. Two deputies. They want to have a look at the evidence we gathered.”
Eric felt a mixture of anxiety and relief. He knew Vanessa was risking a lot by meeting with the deputies, but he couldn’t help feeling slightly safer knowing armed officers of the law would be there, when and if Virgil and his men showed up. The trick, of course, would be convincing the police that Vanessa wasn’t a murderer—and getting them on their side before the real murderers arrived.
Taking back roads and driving quickly, Eric arrived at the cabin to discover a county sheriff’s vehicle parked outside.
Vanessa grabbed the evidence she’d gathered and gave him a quick, frightened look. But then, with not a moment to waste, she hopped from the vehicle and hurried toward the cabin, clutching the CPU to her chest.
* * *
Knowing they wouldn’t have much time before Virgil and the other thugs showed up, Vanessa forced herself to run toward the cabin’s front door, instead of away from it. Somehow, knowing the deputies were probably waiting on the other side was even more terrifying than facing the shotgun Eric had held—probably because she knew Eric and trusted him deep down, on a level she hadn’t trusted anyone in a long time. And Jeff had made terrible claims about what would happen if she ever tried to go to the authorities—of how he’d counter her story, offer lies and fabricated evidence as proof, how he’d get custody of their children and leave her to rot in jail.
But Jeff was dead now.
She burst in the front door to find two uniformed officers waiting for her. A woman who appeared to be in her mid-forties stood by the kitchen counter, and a younger man stood from the couch as she stepped inside.
“I’m Vanessa Jackson,” she announced. The sweet relief of using her own name after so many years helped to ease her fear.
The younger officer approached her. His name badge said Perez. He asked Vanessa, “Do you have any identification?”
“No. Everything was taken from me.” She realized as she spoke the words how true they were. Jeff had taken everything—her innocence, her identity, her instinct to trust others. Even now, she wondered if the deputies would believe her and try to help her or keep her girls from her and lock her away, just as Jeff had threatened.
“The incident earlier this evening in a Chicago suburb...” Officer Perez began.
Vanessa gulped a breath, trying to think how best to begin her defense. Jeff had hated every word she’d ever used to defend herself, had beat her into submission until she only stood up for her kids, never for herself. She’d take any beating if it meant protecting her kids. Now
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