Angie wrinkled her nose. “I’ve been wondering that myself. She left here two hours ago to go get some migraine meds. I thought she’d be back in fifteen minutes. Maybe she had to lie down a few minutes.”
Matt knew Hannah well enough by now to know she’d crawl on bleeding knees to help those she loved. “I can’t see her doing that.” Something was going on, and every nerve in his body tightened in response.
“Me neither, to tell you the truth. I was trying not to worry.” Angie pulled her cell phone out of the purse slung around her shoulder. “I’ve got a good signal here. So if she had a breakdown, she could have called me.”
“I hope Reece didn’t find her,” he said. His pulse galloped as he thought it through. “If she thought Reece had Caitlin, would she go back to him?” Even before he saw Angie’s face change, he knew the answer. “Of course she would,” he said. “In a heartbeat.” He wanted to hit something. “Reece would call her and taunt her with the fact that he had their daughter.”
“Their daughter,” Angie said. “Do you think it’s really true?”
“I think so. I’ve got to find Hannah.” He called Ajax and ran to the SUV.
IN THE WASH of daylight, Reece looked older, harder. His hair was grayer and coarser, especially the straggly beard he’d grown. His jowl seemed softer too, but the same hard light shone in his eyes. Hannah had to look hard for it, though. His jovial smile would have masked it completely from someone who didn’t know as well as she just what he was capable of.
“You look good, hon,” he said. “Take your hair down.”
“Not now,” she said before she thought.
“Take it down now.”
The hard tone of his voice and the way the amiable mask vanished told her to obey. Slowly, she reached up and began to pull the pins from her hair. She’d thought he would hide his true colors at least for a little while. His eyes spoke of a further slide into madness. When her hair lay on her shoulders, she leaned forward to grab her bag from the floor and drop the pins into it.
Reece’s fingers plunged into her hair and wrapped around the locks. “No one has hair like yours. I’ve told you never to wear it down for anyone else.”
Using her hair as leverage, he dragged her across the bench seat until she was close enough for him to release her hair and slide his arm around her.
Her scalp stung, but she said nothing. He seemed calm at the moment, and she didn’t dare complain. With the overpowering scent of his familiar cologne nearly asphyxiating her, Hannah’s strength and courage waned. What made her think she could outwit him? Whenever she was around him, he sapped her will and determination. Her life would slide into the same old nightmare, and she would be helpless to prevent it.
No. She had Caitlin to think about. The little girl needed her protection. Hannah saw no evidence of Caitlin in the vehicle. Could he have merely used the situation to bait Hannah? She prayed that was true. It would be easier to escape if she wasn’t frozen with fear for her daughter.
“So where are we going?” she asked in a bright voice. From the corner of her eye, she saw his quick glance as though he couldn’t figure her out.
“You’ll see. I’ve got a surprise for you. Things are going to be different, Hannah. You’re going to obey me this time. We’re going to be the model family.”
“Family? Are we going to go find our daughter?” The words nearly gagged her, but she got them out in a loving tone.
“Maybe.”
“Why did you take her away from me, Reece?” The words poured out of her in spite of her resolve not to annoy him. “I wanted her so much.”
“I didn’t want to share you with anyone else. Now I see I was wrong about that.”
The craftiness in his glance frightened her. He had some kind of plan, and she feared for Caitlin. Where was the little girl? Surely he hadn’t left her alone somewhere.
“If she’s been adopted, how can we find her and get her back?”
“You leave that up to me.” He reached a dirt road that was only wide enough to allow a single car to navigate. “Where were you when I called?”
“At the farmhouse. Working on the quilt.” The lie came too easily to her lips. What kind of a Christian was she that she could smile and lie without compunction?
“Liar!” His fingers squeezed her arm hard enough to leave bruises. “I followed you. I know you were looking for Caitlin. You know I have her. That’s why you came, isn’t it?”
“No!” She tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight. “Do you have her? We thought she just wandered off into the woods. That’s where Matt was looking. How do you know Caitlin?” She thought her subterfuge had worked when he didn’t ask why she lied.
But his attention was on something else. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he accelerated around the curve, then whipped the steering wheel. “Did the detectives follow you?” he snarled.
“No, of course not. I was careful to make sure I was alone.”
The truck fishtailed in the mud, then slid into a wide spot between some shrubs. Ahead was an abandoned covered bridge. He drove over the grass toward it. “Hang on,” he said. His grip fell off her shoulders.
This bridge had never been restored, and Hannah immediately spotted the missing planks and rotted girders. Any minute she expected the truck to plunge through the floor of the bridge and into the creek below, running deep with cold water from the storm. She’d never seen the water so high. The tires rumbled on the planks, then Reece wrenched the wheel to the right and rode the passenger side tires up onto the side, where the frame looked stronger.
Hannah caught another glimpse of the water below through gaping holes in the structure of the bridge. She gripped the armrest on the door. Her pulse pounded in her head. They weren’t going to make it. The openings in the bridge passed by in a dizzying blur when Reece accelerated. The light at the other end grew larger, then the truck lurched over the last of the uneven boards. The tires found purchase in the rocky dirt at the other end and gave the truck traction through the last few feet.
Reece guided the truck to a stop in the shelter of underbrush. “Lost them,” he said with a smug grin.
“I never saw anyone.”
He stretched his arm across the top of the battered bench seat. “You haven’t kissed me yet, Hannah. That will tell me how sincere you are.”
Her stomach roiled. How could she cover her revulsion? She’d known it might come to this. The distance between her lips and his wary smile seemed as vast as the Pacific Ocean. Her muscles froze in place, pressing her back into the safety of the cracked leather seat. Any minute he would reach across the chasm and grab her. It would be all she could do not to scream, and he would know. Know she’d rather die than touch him.
A siren blared in the distance. His head whipped around, and he peered back through the trees. “We’d better get going. This can wait until tonight.”
Somehow she would have to find a way to get Caitlin to safety before then.
TWENTY - FOUR
“Religious services are held every other Sunday in a different home. Each family takes a turn hosting the congregation. It adds to the sense of community.”
—HANNAH SCHWARTZ,
IN The Amish Faith Through Their Quilts
Matt saw Angie’s car parked outside the coffee shop and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of it. But why would Hannah stop to get coffee and spend hours there? The panic came again, and he knew something was wrong.
He and Ajax went to the car and peered inside. The locks were down, and the car held only a computer bag in the back, probably Angie’s. Inside the coffee shop he saw only two men with an open briefcase between them at the back table. The barista had just come on duty and hadn’t seen Hannah. Not good. Matt didn’t want to face the truth, but he knew it.