Chapter Twenty-Seven
It took a lot of doing – not to mention both Tony and Brooke calling in some favors – but about two and a half hours later, I'm squatting in the thick foliage of the treeline with a clear view of what I assume is James' cabin. A cabin Brooke wasn't aware he owns.
Not that it matters who owns the place – I could see James in there through the windows. And because I'd had Tony ping Abby's cell phone again, trying to narrow down the location, I know that she's in there too. He apparently hadn't been smart enough to confiscate the phone – or if he had taken it from her, he hadn't been smart enough to turn it off.
Either way, it works in my favor. And shows that he's not too bright when it comes to kidnapping somebody. Another point in my favor.
I make sure the brightness display on my phone is turned all the way down and screen myself with some bushes to avoid being seen. I'd been on enough night missions to know how to avoid detection – and dealing with an amateur like James was making my job even easier. But I wasn't going to take any chances.
With my phone on dark, I punched in the number and held it to my ear. I needed to give her an update because Brooke was half out of her mind, threatening to call the cops and send in the army to save Abby. I needed to keep her calm. The cops wouldn't be able to help. They'd only get in the way and if they came storming in here, they'd more than likely get her killed. No, I needed to handle it. I had the training and the experience and could get the mission done. Get Abby home safely.
Reluctantly, she agreed to hold off and let me handle it. On the condition that I kept her updated every step of the way. Which was fine. She deserved to know what was happening. Brooke picked up the line halfway through the first ring.
“What's going on, Caleb? Is she okay?”
“I don't have a visual yet,” I say quietly, making sure to keep my voice pitched low. “I'm outside the cabin. I can see the target through the window. But I do not have eyes on Abby.”
“You need to get in there now, Caleb,” she's almost screaming.
“Stay calm, Brooke,” I say. “I know she's in there and I know she's alive.”
“How can you possibly know that if you can't see her?”
I hold the scope up to my eye again and see James pacing around, talking. He's agitated, but I know he's talking to Abby.
“Because I can see him through the window,” I say. “He's having a conversation – with Abby.”
“Please, Caleb,” she pleads. “Go in there and get her out of that cabin. Save her, please.”
“I have to be careful,” I say. “If I go in there guns blazing, Abby could get hurt. I'm going to get her out. I promise you that. But I'm going to be cautious about it.”
She sniffles and I know she's crying. “Please save her, Caleb. Please, please.”
“You have my word, Brooke.”
I disconnect the call and drop the phone into my pocket. I look through the scope again and see James pacing – he's moving a little faster, clearly a little more agitated. I need to move. The more agitated James gets, the more likely he is to do something rash. Something stupid. And that could be bad news for Abby.
“Play along with him, Abby,” I say quietly. “Don't wind him up. Keep him calm.”
I know she can't hear me, but I'm hoping that somehow, some way, my thoughts will get through to her. She can't afford to push him over the edge. He's already on the hook for kidnapping – who knows how far he'll go.
When he turns away from the window, I move from the treeline to some dense bushes closer to the cabin. I survey the area, trying to find a place I can breach without putting Abby in the crossfire. I see that there's a back door that opens up to a mudroom or something. It looks to be offset from the main room where I can see James through the windows – which is good.
That's my point of entry.
I quickly and quietly move across the yard, silently ascending the three steps that lead to the back door. Peeking in through the window, I can see the kitchen and the main room beyond. James is still pacing back and forth, entering and exiting my field of vision.
I creep over to the door and kneel down. Slipping my lockpicking tools out of my pocket, I get to work, moving as quietly as I can. A moment later, the lock disengages with a soft click. I put my kit back into my pocket, pull the weapon out of the holster on my hip and slowly turn the handle.
I grit my teeth when a soft squeak sounds as I push the door open and find myself in a mudroom off the kitchen. James' voice is booming from the other room, so I doubt he even heard it over his screaming. He obviously found out that Abby and I had slept together since he was railing on her about that. Nothing I could do about that now.
Moving silently through the kitchen, I stop at the doorway. Using the reflection from the window, I see that he's standing just on the other side of the doorway. I need to move on him, but I need to give Abby a little warning first. She needs to know I'm there and to move when I tell her to move.
Knowing James' back is to me, I lean out just enough to see. He's still standing there and I can see the pistol in his hand he's holding at his side. I can see Abby's feet and lower legs beneath the table – but he's blocking my view of her.
I lean back and wait until I hear his footsteps on the wooden floor before I lean out again. Abby's eyes widen when she sees me and I immediately put my finger to my lips, telling her to keep quiet. She cuts her eyes quickly back to James, paying attention to his ranting and raving. But I can see her sneaking quick peeks back at me.
James enters my field of vision again and I know it's time to make my move. I creep out of the kitchen, moving quickly. James' back is to me, but he feels my presence and starts to turn around, raising his gun at the same time.
“Abby, get down now,” I shout.
I raise my weapon and point it at James' face. His eyes open almost comically wide when he sees me. Abby dives to the ground and crawls away from the table, taking shelter behind the sofa.
“Drop your weapon,” I say in my most commanding voice.
He hesitates, but doesn't drop the gun. I can see by the look in his eye that he's calculating his chances of coming out on top of a shootout with me.
“Don't do it, asshole. I don't want to kill you,” I say. “But I will kill you without a second thought.”
James obviously thinks he can get the drop on me because he tries to raise his gun hand quickly. I lower my weapon and squeeze the trigger, putting a round through his thigh. He screams in agony, as if it's the most intense pain he's ever felt – which, it probably is. His weapon clatters to the floor and I kick it away from him, sending it spinning across the room.
James falls to the floor, clutching his wounded though while he sobs uncontrollably. I see Abby peeking over the back of the couch at me and I feel a dark rage descend over me – rage at what he'd done to Abby. At how he'd terrified her.
I lower my weapon but step forward and deliver a vicious kick to his midsection. The air whooshes out of him and he's suddenly gasping for breath. I squat down beside him and grab a handful of his hair, wrenching his neck so that he's looking up at me. Making sure that I have his full attention.
“Here's what's going to happen,” I say. “We're going to call the cops. They're going to take you away. Eventually, you're going to get out of jail. And when you do, you are going to leave Sheridan Falls. Forever. You are to put the city in your rear-view and never come back. Ever. If you do, I'm going to kill you.”
He gasps and tries to say something, so I use the butt of my gun to rap him across the forehead nice and hard. He winces in pain and groans – but he stopped trying to speak, at least.
“You are not to contact Abby ever again,” I say. “You're not to even think about her. If you do try to contact her in any way, shape, or form, I'm going to kill you. Just nod if you understand.”
He opened his mouth and started to speak again, so I rapped him over the head again, stopping him short.
“Just nod if you understand.”
He looks deflated. Defeated. But nods anyway.
“Good. We have an understanding then.”
Keeping my weapon at the ready, I hand Abby my phone and tell her to call the police. She does and we sit down on the couch, I pull her close to me. She's trembling and crying, so I wrap my arm even tighter around her, holding her closer.
And as we wait for the cops to arrive, she calls Brooke to let her know that she's okay.