CHAPTER 22
It was mid-summer, the peak of tourist season, and they had just been cloaked in an unusual, unseasonal, summer rain. The freak storm led to a freak accident that haunted each of them any time they passed the site. The intense, high amount of rain shifted the soil, loosening the rocky embankment that lined the highway. When nature gave way, that embankment was cast across the highway, right in front of a fully loaded log truck, causing a grisly accident.
Coming around a curve in the road, the fully loaded log truck was unable to stop in time; the driver lost control of his vehicle and trailer, jack knifing across the multiple lanes, mowing down both sides of the packed highway before coming to a halt. When the dust settled, it was like a scene from Armageddon—wrecked cars scattered everywhere, injuries galore, some that looked like ghastly fallout from the latest horror flick. People were trapped, and some even dead.
Sam had been in the traffic just behind the accident, along with Everly, Gran, and Ellie. They had been on their way back from a girls’ weekend in the city when Evie heard the call for Rescue and realized it was the reason they were stopped on the highway that wasn’t supposed to stop. Sam jumped out with Evie, assuming she could help, leaving Ellie with Granny.
The ladies ran ahead, not realizing just how close they had been, when they rounded the bend, hardly a quarter mile from where their car sat idle, and they came upon the horrendous scene. Shocked by the vision before them, they gave each other a look of relief, grateful for that last minute impromptu ice cream stop for fairy sprinkles for Ellie Lou.
They were first on scene, could hear the sirens in the distance, but knew they were going to need more than the help being sent and the trouble they would have getting through the tangled metal, rock, mud, and log filled debris. Unless you saw the scene first hand, there is no way a dispatcher would know just how much help was necessary; it was a war zone, and they needed more troops. Evie called in for more help—all hands on deck.
Getting a jump on rescue efforts while waiting for help, Sam and Evie tag teamed the vehicles they could reach, using the only thing they had, lipstick, to mark the windshields indicating what was inside, prioritizing and delegating the care needed—lipstick triage. The X’s on the windshields were becoming more and more, converting the highway to a gruesome graveyard.
They had nearly reached the other side of the plethora of wrecked cars when reinforcements finally arrived, scattering themselves amongst the rubble, guided by Lolita and Cathedral colored Sephora lipstick adorned windshields. A startling, spine chilling scream was followed by a deep husky male voice that called Sam’s name, summoning her attention and perking her unsettled emotions to new levels when the reality before her settled in.
A small SUV, or large car, too damaged to identify, sat crumpled near a collection of lost logs and fallen rocks. It was the vehicle immediately following the initial chaos and clearly the first impact, given the insanely gnarled picture before her. Another scream pulled Sam’s focus back, when she made eye contact with Dawson, anxiously waiting for her to take in the sight, regroup, and come to his aid.
“Sam, I need your help with this one,” Dawson hollered as she ran to assist him. “They are cutting her out from behind so we can ease her out.”
Another scream and her first look at their patient revealed everything Sam needed to know and why she was needed. “How far along?”
“Twenty-seven weeks,” he quickly replied.
“Where do you need me?” Sam asked, adrenaline taking over as she transitioned from shock to determination.
Dawson put her hand over the victim’s leg, where his had been, to stop a major bleed, likely a damaged artery, making this a critical rescue. It was unclear how much of the blood was from her patient. Her wounds were clearly massive, but much of it had to be from the driver of the vehicle, next to her, who had been impaled with some sort of object, perhaps a crowbar or the like, inevitably from the log truck before them. Sam’s attention was quickly returned to her patient as she hoped and prayed that the pool of blood in her lap was not a sign the pregnancy was in danger too. A gruesome scene, full of fear and tragedy, and they were just beginning.
Sam spoke to her, tried to calm her, tried to stop the bleeding, while the team was getting close to extraction, but the screams were more frequent, and it became clear that this baby was in danger and the cause for these haunting sounds. As Rescue gingerly pulled her from the wreckage, Sam stayed with her, straddling her at one point, until they cleared the mess and made way to the waiting ambulance.
“Alex! Alex!” Screamed the patient, reaching for the deceased man still in the car. “Please don’t leave me…don’t leave us! Please help him! Alex!”
Alex was dead. Their patient was in shock, unable to realize what was obvious to even the untrained eye. His injury was too traumatic, likely claiming him instantly. This woman had witnessed his death, first hand, watched him take his last breath.
They were about fifteen minutes from town, twenty minutes from the hospital, but it felt like much longer. Sam did all she could to keep her patient calm and awake, not an easy task as emotions ran high for obvious reasons. Dawson made his way around the patient, starting her IV and doing what he could while Carigan drove them in.
“Please, please, save my baby,” their patient, plead, begged desperately. “Save her, please. Something’s wrong; help her first.
Sam was stunned, realizing that a maternal instinct had set in, and this woman knew her baby was in trouble. It was going to be a challenge to save the mother; the unborn child would need a miracle.
“It was Rene,” Sam said with shock at the revelation. “Dawson, she is the one we brought in. That’s why she is familiar; we all helped her.”
The room was quiet as they all remembered their role that day and the one patient that stuck with all of them. Their badly injured patient, who also lost her husband and baby, and nearly her own life. She was the one who haunted each of them.
“I’m lost. So Rene was the girl from the accident. What does that have to do with Sam, and all the bullshit?” Jessie inquired.
“That’s what I don’t know,” Blake admitted. “What I do know is she survived a major tragedy here, then moved here, and it never comes up, despite the friendships she’s built?”
“Coop, it doesn’t mean
anything other than she took a job here,” Colton claimed, always believing the best in others, despite the unusual circumstances. He wasn’t jumping on any bandwagon or witch-hunt until there was a reason to. His big heart and compassion for others ran deep, trumping any macho tendencies he may harbor. “Maybe it’s too much to talk about, and she wanted a fresh start.”
“I don’t know. Something isn’t right about that,” Sam interjected, sifting through the newly discovered information. “I see her all the time with Ellie’s riding lessons and camp; we have become friends. How does it not
come up? It wasn’t a quick passing, one summer. I was with her for hours, during what was probably the most traumatic time of her life…not a mention?”
“There is absolutely no way she doesn’t know who I am, not after that day,” she concluded.
Dawson agreed with Sam. There was a reason she left him with unease all this time, why she nagged at the back of his mind every time he saw her. There was a reason that chills pierced through him when he learned about her behavior, leading him to his friends with questions, asking for help with this mystery of Rene. No, something was definitely out of sync. Sam was right. This
wasn’t right.
Her car may not match the car from the night of the accident, but he wasn’t ready to dismiss her, not yet. No, this was rotting in his gut like a really bad burrito.
“Well, we can dig into Rene a little more, later. We have bigger issues to work through, and that’s finding out who is after Sam, and why,” Blake replied, trying to get back to the task at hand, finding their criminal. “It can’t be Rene. Sam saw a dark vehicle and Rene drives a red truck; I checked.”
Morgan Jameson’s world turned upside down and spun out of control like a tilt-o-whirl at Blake’s statement. As if the planets finally aligned and the universe was speaking to her, granting her a clear picture, Morgan began to piece together the eerie puzzle before them, as scenes from the past months began to flash like a highlight reel of a movie.
She began pacing, sorting out the images flooding her mind. She mumbled to herself, talking it out as she evaluated the devastating thoughts consuming her. How had they missed this; how had she
missed this? The clues were there all along, camouflaged by friendship, kindness, and lies.
This was bigger than they all could have imagined. They had been played, and it was far from over. This was a well thought out, calculated plan established by the scariest psychopath there was, one who has nothing to lose.
“No, no, no…we missed it; we missed what was right in front of us,” Morgan alleged, ready to deliver her insight as she just solved the puzzle. “What have we done? Shit!”
“What, Morgan…what did we miss?” Everly replied, watching Morgan pace, frenzied, by her friend’s admittance.
Morgan stood still with a blank stare. “We played right into Rene’s hands. It is Rene. It has been all along.”
Realizing where Ellie was and who she was with, Sam went cold and tried to discredit what Morgan declared because if she was right, her attacker had her daughter. “No, it can’t be her. Blake said she has a red truck. She has Ellie, so it can’t
be her
!” She turned to Dawson, searching for help. This wasn’t happening. Morgan had to be wrong. “Right? The guy has a dark car, not a red truck…”
“The truck is new. Well, a few months new. I didn’t think anything of it when she bought it. She needed something better to haul horse trailers, so it made sense,” Morgan confessed, trying to lighten the inevitable blow that was about to cruelly strike. “When she moved here, she had a small, dark blue SUV. It has to be her; at night, it easily could have looked black.”
Having all of the pieces, they now had a clear picture of what they were dealing with, a desperate woman that for some reason wanted revenge on the town where she lost everything. Why Sam was her target was still a mystery. Perhaps it was the beginning of a much longer list. Who knew? It was hard to understand the workings of a clearly insane mind. The details of why and how would have to be settled later; for now, they had a little girl to find.
“We need to get over there. We still have a head start. Camp is running late today. That should help,” Everly shared.
“Running late? Since when? There wasn’t anything on the schedule,” Dawson chimed in, hair prickling the back of his neck as his mood quickly escalated to high alert.
“The trail ride. The kids earned a ride through the foothills. Didn’t they tell you at last pick up? Cal and Angel planned it,” Morgan questioned, suddenly realizing this was another part of the sick and twisted plan they were working against. “Or did they?”
“Cal said quite the opposite; they’re having fun but not ready for anything like that yet. They are just learning the trails around Sugar Pine.”
Blake put a firm hand on Dawson’s shoulder as he charged the door, full of fury, off to rescue their little girl. It was clear to everyone in the moment that there was a dramatic shift from concern and worry to conquer and rescue, and Dawson was at the helm of that mission. The room began to buzz around them as a plan was established. This was a team effort, not a one man mission, and they were going to need everyone. It was apparent they were dealing with a dangerous individual, one who’d had months to prepare when they had only hours.
Dawson held Sam, full of angst, as she lost all the pieces she was scarcely keeping together. “Rene has her, she has my baby,” she whispered, overcome by the torment Rene had unleashed.
“I know, baby,” he said, consoling her, determined to make this right. “I’m going to get her. I’m bringing our girl home. I promise you, this ends today, so help me…”
She kissed him, interrupting his affirmation because she already knew it and believed in it. He was committed to them, and taking care of them was all he wanted. She didn’t doubt his devotion or intentions one bit. She didn’t need to hear it to trust that he meant every word. He was her hero in every way; he rescued her.
Sam’s eyes filled with tears of fear and love this time. She needed this man, wanted him, and knew he would bring her daughter, their girl, back. His claim filled a fractured part of her that she didn’t know was gaping until Dawson closed it. For the first time in her life, in the midst of danger and tragedy, Sam felt content and safe, despite her missing piece.
A wave of calm and confidence rushed her like a wave breaking on the shore. As she scanned the room and no longer saw friends or co-workers, but family. Walls completely removed, her heart filled with the love that surrounded her, which she couldn’t acknowledge until now. She feared for her daughter but knew it was temporary, that Rene couldn’t hurt her or her loved ones anymore. Dawson was bringing Ellie home.
Stopping at the door, behind the group leaving, Dawson turned and said, “I love you.”
The next hour was nothing short of organized chaos. Dawson had Granny Lou charged with Sam’s care at his house, upon her release from the hospital, and made sure they both knew where he kept his gun. Sam was comfortable with guns, but in this debauchery, it left her uneasy; the fact she may need
it felt climactic and surreal. This town was safe, and guns were used for sport, not protection from anything but the occasional cranky bear or wild beast.
Rene was the threat today. Sam saved lives. The thought of harming one sat in her belly like a bucket of cement as she pondered whether or not she could follow through, should the bear appear.
Granny, on the other hand, as gentle as she was ornery, had the weapon found, inspected, loaded, and praised for its beauty as soon as they made it to Dawson’s. Louise Shaw had been alone most of her life, raising Everly after her parents died, and then Sam when she joined their family. She had no qualms about protecting herself using any measure necessary.
She was comfortable with just about anything, being as independent and self-sufficient as she was, including protecting her loved ones, again, at any cost. No, Granny wouldn’t hesitate if a threat arrived on her doorstep…and she wasn’t one to fire a warning shot.
Dawson and the rest of the self-appointed, impromptu rescue team arrived at The Stables to find exactly what they expected; camp over, all of the kids gone home, and Rene and Ellie nowhere to be found. Cal was quickly brought up to speed and had his own odd encounters to add to an already muddy state of affairs.
Rene had given notice. She was leaving McKenzie Ridge. Dawson wasn’t letting her departure include taking Ellie. The only place he was comfortable with her going was a little, white padded room. He imagined she was already in hell. They would find her, and they would find Ellie.
A search team quickly fell into place as the group already in attendance made up a great portion of the existing community team anyway. Blake assigned officers to the grounds, in the event Rene should return, as well as officers posted outside Dawson’s home and at Lou’s and Sam’s homes. An APB was issued in town as well as the surrounding areas, covering the entire state.
Rene was good at her game. She would know better than to flee via air or train. She would likely drive using back roads until she reached a safe distance, then she would blend in, just like she had in McKenzie Ridge; but where? They were in the mountains, surrounded by more of nature’s terrain; it would be easy to disappear, especially if you had months to establish a well formed plan and a good couple of hours’ head start.
“She saddled up and rode with us. She was known to do that,” Cal said to the group, trying to shed light on the afternoon’s events. “She really enjoys the young ‘ins.”
“When did you notice she was gone?” Blake inquired, trying to get an idea of not only where she was but how big her head start was.
“She was riding behind the group, keepin’ everyone in line.” Cal took off his ball cap and scratched his balding head, trying to recall the events, sharing as much detail as possible. “She went up the trail with us. I reckon it was somewhere on the way back that she disappeared because she wasn’t bringing up the tail when we got back to the yard here.”
Dawson was hesitant to ask the next question, what was on everyone’s mind already but needed an answer. “Was Ellie still with the group?”
“Sorry, Dawson, she wasn’t. I didn’t think much of it, though.” Cal hung his head, now, full of regret as he updated them on the last part of Rene’s scheme. “She told me she was helping ya’ll out, keeping Ellie in her care. I had heard what happened, saw Miss Evie and Morgie talkin’ to her before…I mean I trusted her! I just didn’t think anything was wrong ’til you all showed up.”
“We all did, Cal; we all trusted her. She’s been plotting this for some time. There is no way any of us could have known,” Blake replied, full of understanding. She had gotten the best of all of them, which infuriated Blake. He was slipping; nothing falls off his radar, ever, and he was blaming himself for not figuring this out sooner.
Morgan was sharing his guilt. She basically handed Ellie over, sealing the deal. That would be the last time she trusted anyone on their word. “Where the hell do we start? She didn’t leave a fucking clue, nothing! Her truck is gone, but so are their horses. Where did she go and how?”
She was exceeding the threshold of anger and was well on her way to rage. Morgan was a good fucking cop, top of her craft, yet somehow, missed all the red flags and had nothing to work with. Morgan was heated, ready to deliver her wrath on Rene, God help her.
Dawson stood off from the group, staring out past The Stables, past the park, gazing at and scanning the hillside at the base of the mountain that was scarred with the miles of trails. Half listening to the conversation behind him, deep in thought, heavy in prayer, he turned to the group of frustrated searchers and spoke, “There is a clue, not from Rene, but Ellie. I know where they are.”
He turned and made his way to the stables. “Saddle up; we’re riding. She has her at the cabin at the peak, behind that lookout tower,” he delivered matter of fact, full of confidence. “Ellie has been talking about riding and camping at the cabin. How does she know about the cabin unless someone told her? It’s a great place to hide and wait it out.”