“Whoever had been in my cage before me had obviously made some effort to escape. One of the bars had been loosened. Tomasso’s cage was close enough he could help, and together we were able to get the first bar out, and bend another enough to pull it out as well. I managed to squeeze out of my cage and tried to open his, but before I could accomplish the task, we heard our captors coming and he insisted I get away while I could and get help.”
Dante paused briefly, and Mary noted the muscles of his throat working, but then he continued, his voice almost flat. “It was a basement with high windows. I climbed out onto dirt and grass and saw the woods surrounding the building we had been held in. I started to run. I had no idea where I was, or if I was headed in the right direction to find help. All I could see were woods and more woods. I had not gone far when I became aware of someone running behind me. Afraid they would shoot me with their dart again, I put on a burst of speed and then the trees were suddenly gone and I was charging toward the road . . . and the side of this RV.” He patted the steering wheel with a grimace. “I tried to stop myself, but . . .” He shook his head, and then glanced to her and said, “The truth is you did not run over me, so much as I ran into, or under, your vehicle.”
Mary stared at him silently. She was glad she wasn’t at fault for the accident. The knowledge relieved a good deal of the guilt that had apparently been clouding her good sense, because now she was thinking more clearly. Voice firm, she said, “You need to turn around and head back to the truck stop.”
He glanced at her with surprise, then turned his gaze forward again and shook his head. “We have to lose our pursuers to ensure your safety when I leave you.”
“You’re not going to do that in an RV,” she said dryly. “These things are like me, built for comfort, not speed. That van—” she glanced to the vehicle revealed in the rear camera view to see that it was still stuck on their tail like a burr on Bailey’s butt “—is not going to lose us. And if what you say is true, the minute we stop, the men in that van will attack. But the waitress at the truck stop called 911. By now the police should be there. If they aren’t there yet, at least there are others there to help. Right now we’re on our own. Those men could force us off the road and take you again at any minute. In fact, I’m surprised they haven’t tried already.”
“They have not tried because the highway is busy and they do not want witnesses. So long as we stay on it we should be safe,” he said solemnly. “And if we lead them back to the truck stop, someone there could get hurt. It is important to avoid that. It is why I led them away to begin with,” he argued.
“I thought it was to keep me safe?” she reminded him tightly.
“Yes. That too,” he agreed. “I wish to avoid any mort—innocents coming to harm.”
“Any more innocents?” she questioned with a frown. “You mean besides your brother?”
“Si,” he agreed quickly, but kept his gaze on the road ahead.
Mary frowned, suspecting he hadn’t meant that at all, but unsure why she thought so. Leaving it for now, she asked, “Well then, what’s your plan? Are you intending to lead them to the police station in Kerrville in the hopes they can catch these men and go rescue your brother?” She paused and frowned, wondering if it wouldn’t actually be the sheriff’s office. In Canada and some of the northern states it was the police, but it seemed to her it might be sheriff here. She wasn’t sure though. She’d never had cause to call the authorities here before. Realizing that didn’t matter, she waved a hand and said; “Anyway, I seriously doubt your friends will hold off on stopping us until we reach the police station or sheriff’s department. Once we’re off the highway, there’s no guarantee there won’t be a stretch of road without anyone to stop them driving us off the road.”
Dante scowled, apparently not pleased by what she’d said. “I need to find out where they were holding us so I can send help for Tomasso.”
“It’s written on that notepad next to my phone,” she informed him quietly. “At least the spot where I hit you is. Surely you couldn’t have run that far before getting there?”
Dante glanced sharply to the tiny memo pad attached to the clipboard on the dash, and then turned questioning eyes to her. “This is where I ran into you? You wrote it down?”
“Yes.” She grimaced and admitted. “I knew I’d hit something, but I got spooked out there and drove off without making a proper search. I wrote down the distance it was from the first stop sign I came to, intending to send the police there when I got to the truck stop.”
A slow relieved smile lit up his face and he said, “Mary Winslow, if I was not driving I would kiss you. You are brilliant.”
Mary smiled faintly and just shook her head. He had a very nice smile and she was happy to help the fellow.
“May I use your phone?”
She glanced to the phone in its holder and shook her head. “I’m sorry. It fell out of its holder and broke when I hit you. That’s why I stopped at the truck stop, to use their phone.”
His smile slipped at once and he glanced to the item in question, asking, “Are you sure it is broken?”
“Well, the glass face is smashed and it had gone dead,” she said. “That seems broke enough to me.”