The Girl Who Was Taken
Charlie Donlea
For Mary
Sister, cheerleader, friend
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to my Kensington family, who made me feel like a superstar as they waited anxiously for my next creation. To my editor, John Scognamiglio, who refused to let me screw up this story, despite my best efforts. Thanks for your guidance and insight, and for letting me know when enough was enough. To my publicist, Morgan Elwell, who does a stellar job getting the word out about my books, and even stashes a few copies in the right places. To the art department for designing a fabulous cover. And to Steven Zacharius, thanks for your encouragement.
Much appreciation to my agent, Marlene Stringer, who took a frantic call from me during the writing of this novel and talked me off the ledge. I’ve officially added “counselor” to your résumé.
“Write with the door closed. Rewrite with the door open,” says Stephen King. When I open the door, the first people I invite in are my wife and sister. You guys are the best First Readers I could ask for. To Amy, for reading the same story over-and-over and pretending to love it more each time. No matter how good a book may be, you only read it twelve times if it’s a classic or if your husband wrote it. Thanks for your ideas on how to make the early drafts better, and for letting me know when I finally had the ending correct. To Mary, for the timely brainstorming and late-night texts. I sometimes feel that you put more thought into these stories than I do. And one thing is for certain—you have a sinister mind, which came in very handy for this story.
To Abby and Nolan. I love that you think I’m “really good at writing books,” even though you haven’t read any of them. But the day is coming when you sit down to read one of my books, and it’s a moment of happiness (and angst) that waits in my future. To my parents—Brian, Sandee, Fred and Sue—your support and encouragement mean the world to me. And if you keep rearranging my novels on bookstore shelves, you’re going to get me in trouble. So knock it off!
And finally, to the readers. Thank you for taking a chance on my book. I hope it provides you hours of entertainment (and makes you check the locks at night). Please consider writing a review of this book on any of the many outlets where other readers may find it.
Amazing grace how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now I’m found
Was blind but now I see
The Abduction Emerson Bay, North Carolina
August 20, 2016
11:22 p.m.
Darkness had forever been part of her life.
She looked for it and flirted with it. Became quaint with it and charmed it in a way foreign to most. Morbidly of late, she convinced herself about the joys of its company. That she preferred the blackness of death to the light of existence. Until tonight. Until she stood in front of an abyss that was dead and blank in a way she had never encountered, a night sky without stars. When Nicole Cutty found herself in this chasm between life and death, she chose life. And she ran like hell.
With no flashlight, the night blinded her as she broke through the front entrance. He was just an arm’s length behind, which caused adrenaline to flood her system and drive her for a few strides in the wrong direction until her eyes adjusted to the tarnished glow of the moon. Spotting her car, she reoriented herself and ran for it, fumbling with the handle until she ripped open the door. The keys hung from the ignition and Nicole cranked the engine, shifted into drive, and stepped on the accelerator. She gave the engine too much gas and nearly sideswiped the vehicle in front of her. Her headlights brought to life the ink-black night, and from the corner of her eye she saw a flash of color from his shirt as he appeared from around the hood of the parked car in front of her. She had no time to react. She felt the thud of impact and the awful rocking of the car’s suspension as the wheels absorbed the unevenness of his body before regaining traction on the gravel road. Her response came without thought. She pushed the accelerator to the floor and twisted a tight U-turn, then raced down the narrow road, leaving everything behind her.
Nicole jerked the wheel as she skidded onto the main highway, swaying in the driver’s seat as the fishtail settled and ignoring the speedometer as it climbed past eighty mph. She flexed her arm from where he’d grabbed her, a deep purple bruise already forming, while her eyes bounced from the windshield to the rearview mirror. Two miles went by before she eased off the gas pedal and the four-cylinder quieted down. Being free gave her no relief. Too much had happened to believe fleeing could make the problems of tonight disappear. She needed help.
As she turned onto the access road that led back to the beach, Nicole ticked off the people she couldn’t ask. Her brain worked that way, in the negative. Before deciding who could assist her, she mentally crossed off the people who would do her harm. Her parents were at the top of the list. The police, a close second. Her friends were possibilities, but they were soft and hysterical and Nicole knew they would panic before she explained even a fraction of what had transpired tonight. Her mind churned, ignoring the only real possibility until she had ruled out all others.
Nicole paused at the stop sign, rolled through it while she grabbed her phone. She needed her sister. Livia was older and smarter. Rational in a way Nicole was not. If Nicole dismissed the last stretch of their lives and ignored the distance between them, she knew she could trust Livia with her life. And even if she wasn’t sure about this, she had no other options.
She stuck the phone to her ear and listened to it ring while tears rolled down her cheeks. It was close to midnight. She was a block from the beach party.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up. Please, Livia!”
The Escape Two Weeks Later Emerson Bay Forest
September 3, 2016
11:54 p.m.