Into the Storm

I didn’t want them hurt and in case it was something else, I didn’t want Bear attacked either. I yelled for him to heel and he lowered his head, picked something up and reluctantly he came back to my side. I could hear the whines in the back of his throat as he obediently approached me and saw something dark and lifeless hanging from his mouth. I cursed silently. He had gotten something. He sat down on his haunches in front of me. “Drop it,” I said firmly, dreading what I was about to look at.

He leaned his head down and deposited whatever he was carrying on the snow and sat back up. I crouched down and realized it wasn’t an animal, but an odd ball of material. I picked it up and examined the item. Unwinding it, I realized it was a scarf. A woman’s scarf. I looked up to where Bear had been digging. It was by the tree where Rabbit’s car had hit that night. I could see something dark still sticking out of the snow. My heart started pounding rapidly. Pointing, I looked down at Bear. “Fetch.”

He took off and started digging madly again at the snow. I followed him and knelt down, reaching in to where he was digging. The small black piece of leather I could see became larger and, eventually, we worked it out of the snow.

I sat back in shock at what he’d uncovered. Even without opening it, I knew what it was. I had tripped over something trying to get into the car that night, but it had completely slipped my mind with my concern for Rabbit at the time. But this is what I had tripped over.

Rabbit’s missing purse.





I made it up to the house as quickly as possible. The purse was heavy and laden with snow. I grabbed a towel and knelt in front of the fire. I spread out the towel and tipped the contents of the purse on it, spreading out the items. I opened the wallet and pulled out the driver’s license. Elizabeth James. The same name was on the one credit card in the wallet. There was a library card, a gym membership card, a business card bearing her husband’s name, and twenty-five dollars in cash. That was it. I looked at the other items laid out before me. There was a small, sodden package of Kleenex, a compact, a tube of lipstick, a pen and small blank notepad. There was also a small, digital camera which I doubted would work again. And lastly, a sealed Ziploc bag. I opened the bag carefully and pulled out a manila envelope. It was cold, but thanks to the plastic bag, it felt dry. I hesitated a minute, then opened the envelope. Inside was a small journal-type book and when I opened it up, I immediately choked in horror.

Even though her face wasn’t in any of them, I knew the person in these dreadful photographs.

They were pictures of Rabbit.

Every page had one taped onto it.

The first one; her hand in a cast.

Then pages of pictures of bruises on her arms, legs, and torso.

Each one noted with a small explanation of why she had received the injury; what the medical treatment had been and the name of the uncaring, careless doctor who patched her up and sent her away, only to be abused again.

And lastly, the name of who had so callously inflicted every single one of her injuries.

I shuddered. My eyes shut in painful realization. I didn’t know how long it had been going on, but I now knew without question who had caused her injuries.

There were no kidnappers.

He had lied. The whole story had been a lie.

Brian James was her attacker.





Chapter Thirty


Joshua


I fumbled around and found my phone. I hit speed dial and Cecilia answered quickly. I didn’t bother with a greeting. “Get Trevor. Get here. Fast.” I didn’t even wait for her to respond. I stumbled down the hall into the bathroom and threw up as the images of what the journal showed played through my mind again and again.

The unconfirmed theories and worries were all real. I had proof of my greatest fear.

I sent her back.

I sent Rabbit back to the person who had been abusing her. Repeatedly.

Instead of listening to my gut and keeping her here for a while longer, I reacted to what I should do and based it on how I would react if it was me. How I would feel if she had been taken. I did what I thought, what I’d been told, was the right thing to do. I was so fucking stupid.

I had believed the lies he spoke.

I thought he wanted what was best for her. That was what I wanted.

But he wasn’t me; he hurt her.

She hadn’t been taken; she had run.

And what I’d thought was right, had been the worst possible thing I could do.

My stomach heaved again and I laid my head on the cool porcelain.

She was so far away.

Trapped somewhere alone.

Somewhere I couldn’t get to.

Because I was trapped here.

We were both trapped in our own living hell.





A few hours later, I stared at the three people sitting with me at the table. Cecilia and Trevor had arrived with Frank. I had heard the helicopter approaching and was surprised but grateful to see Frank with them when the door opened. I was calmer and resolute. Rabbit needed to come home. With Frank here we could figure out how.

“The car is Elizabeth’s?” I repeated what Frank just told me.

Frank shook his head. “Ms. Allen, or Tracy, refuses to call her that. She knew her as Lizzy when they were young and they kept in contact after she moved here. I think she is probably one of the only people Elizabeth knew outside her marriage. She says the Lizzy she knew and the Elizabeth James she became are two different people.”

I nodded in understanding.

Rabbit.

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