Finding Justice Page 15

  "You'll need to call me before then. I want two-hour updates. You take a video with that phone every two hours and send it to me so I know they're okay or no deal."

  "Get me my fucking money. I'll call you with an update in the morning."

  Malcom ended the call and stuck the phone in his pocket. "Now, boy. Gimme your phone, get that rope and take a seat on the bed."

  Jolene nodded to Briggs and he did as told. Malcom had Jolene lash Briggs' hands behind his back and his feet together. He then made Briggs lie down and had her tie his feet to the bedframe.

  "Now you." He gestured with the gun at Jolene. "Tie yourself."

  "Hard to tie my own wrists."

  "Your feet you dumb bitch."

  She did, but made sure the ropes were tied in the same fashion as Briggs', over the boots. Once her feet were tied, Malcom lashed her wrists and shoved her back on the bed. "I'll be back in the morning and just in case you're thinking you can scream…" He pulled two dirty bandanas from his pocket and gagged both of them.

  Satisfied with his handiwork, he leaned over Jolene. "Just so you have something to look forward to, I'm gonna have some fun with you before I give you back. So you just think on that."

  He then turned and left. She could hear him fumbling with something at the door and guessed that he had padlocked it. Jolene started jerking her feet, making the rickety bed rock. Briggs looked over at her like she was crazy. She just kept at it. With each tug she could feet her feet sliding up in her boots. The thin blanket offered little padding and she could feel the broken wires in the mesh beneath her cutting into her back.

  It didn't matter. They had to get free and find a way out. Malcom might tell the network and JD that he intended to release her and Briggs unharmed, but she had seen the look in his eyes. He didn't plan on them leaving this place alive.

  The ropes were snugger than she realized. Jolene had no clue how long she worked at it but she reached a point she had to stop. She lay back, sweating and breathing hard. Briggs grunted and she turned her head to look at him.

  She wished she had a way to communicate comfort to him. He looked so scared. That gave her added strength and she went back at it. On and on until finally she felt her right heel slip past the rope. A few minutes later, she worked her right foot free. She used it to press against the ropes to give her more leverage. When her left foot slid free she fell back, breathing hard.

  After she caught her breath, she sat up and hopped off the bed. She knelt down, sliding her wrists beneath her butt, then sat and worked her arms down her legs and over her feet. Her arms and shoulders screamed at the strain but when she stood her wrists were in front of her.

  Jolene tore the dirty bandana from her face, climbed on the bed and did the same for Briggs. "Roll over as far as you can on your side and I'll untie your wrists."

  Once his wrists were free, he untied her then freed his feet. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. "Okay, we have to get out of here."

  They both climbed off the bed and went to the door. It opened to the outside, so they tried pushing on it and kicking it. It didn't budge. "I think it's padlocked, or there's a bar over it." Jolene said and looked around.

  There were no windows or other doors, the ceiling was at least ten feet above them and looked to be concrete. She sat down on the floor, feeling defeated.

  "Now what?" Briggs took a seat on the floor facing her.

  "I don't know."

  "Do you think he'll let us go?"

  Her first inclination was to lie and tell him everything would be okay, but she didn't do that. If nothing else, he deserved honesty. "No. That’s why if we can't find a way out, we have to be ready when he returns."

  "Fight or die?"

  "Maybe."

  "You know dad will be looking for us."

  "Yes."

  "And that guy was too dumb to hear the clues you gave dad."

  "But was it enough?"

  He shrugged. "You know, I thought things were really on the way to being good. I've never seen Dad so happy."

  Jolene reached out to take his hand. "You can't give up. Look, we're smart and strong and all we have to do is come up with a plan."

  "Like what?"

  "Well, I don't know at the moment, but sometimes you have to stop thinking about it and just let it come to you. So, let's talk about something else."

  "Like what?"

  "You choose."

  He was quiet for a little while, looking down at their clasped hands. When he looked up, she saw tears sparkling in his eyes. "I don't think my mother ever held my hand."

  "Oh, I'm sure she did – when you were little."

  "No. You never met her. She –she wasn't very nice."

  "Everyone has flaws and faults."

  "No, I mean she really wasn't nice. Not even when we were little. Dad would be away, I remember and Pop would come get us and take us to his house. We never stayed with her. And when we got older, we figured out why. All she did was pop pills, drink and screw anything in pants."

  "Briggs."

  "It's true. Me and Dawson caught her twice when we were twelve and threatened to tell dad if she didn't stop."

  "So she stopped."

  "No."

  "You told your dad?"

  "No." He swiped at his eyes. "We didn't want to hurt him, you know? We knew he wasn't happy. How could he be? All she did was bitch and yell at him. So, we kept our mouths shut."

  "I'm sorry. She – she had a problem, I guess."

  "Yeah, that's putting it mildly."

  "I'm really sorry. Maybe if she – if the accident hadn't happened she could have gotten help and been different."

  "That wasn't an accident. We know Dad lied about that – about her having a heart attack. She was drunk as a skunk and left home screaming about how she hated all of us and her life and she'd rather be dead than have to spend another minute there. She killed herself."

  "I'm sorry Briggs."

  "I'm sorry too, sorry that Dad had to be so unhappy all that time. He was gone you know. And when he got back, he was worse than ever. I don't think he smiled for a year."

  "I guess he felt responsible."

  "Well he shouldn't. I know she was our Mom, but she didn't love him and didn't give a shit about whether he was happy. Just like me and Dawson. All she cared about was herself and I guess I hate her for that."

  "Briggs, you can't hate her."

  "Yes I can."

  "But you shouldn't."

  "Why not?"

  "Because she gave you life. You're here because of her. You have a brother, a dad, and a wonderful family because of her. So, hate what she did and that she couldn't find her way clear to do better, but don't hate her. We're all imperfect."

  "Still…"

  "Still, hate tarnishes everything it touches. Like that man Malcom. He's got nothing but hate in him for a reason I still don't understand."

  "Yeah, what's up with that guy anyway?"

  "It has to do with an article I wrote about his half-brother. He was an up and comer on the rodeo and was drugging and raping buckle bunnies. Two of them died. When he went to jail, I guess it ended the family dreams for a rodeo star and cut into their finances. That's what he says he hates me for – that I ruined his family's life."

  "Sound to me it was his jerk of a brother."

  "Yeah, me too, but that's the thing. People don't always want to be held accountable for their own actions. Sometimes rather than dealing with their own shortcomings – or the shortcomings of their loved ones, they assign the blame on someone else. It's not that they set out to be bad people, it's just that they're not strong enough to stand up and own their conduct."

  "Like my mom? She blamed my dad for everything."

  "Then yes, maybe like her. Again, it doesn't mean she started out to be a bad person, or even that she was one at the end. She was simply an unhappy and weak person. And… never mind."

  "No, what."

  "Well, as far as I can tell
there are three kinds of people – givers, takers, and sharers. Givers give and give and give, and often to people who take advantage. Takers just take. They don't see others as authentic or meaningful as themselves and yet do see themselves as kind and generous people, but their gifts are always given to aggrandize themselves, so it's not really giving. Then there are the sharers and those are the rare and wonderful people of life. They understand that life and relationships are like nature. Tides can be high or low, wind comes and goes, the sun rules the day and gives way to the moon at night. It's all a balance and if you're very lucky, you find someone who understands that. There's a time to give and a time to accept."

  "You're pretty smart, Jo."

  "Obviously not smart enough, as our current predicament illustrates."

  He squeezed her hand. "We'll get out of this."

  Jolene nodded and looked away. She wanted to believe that more than anything but at the moment it wasn't looking too promising.

  *****

  JD finished gassing up his truck and went inside the station. He poured himself the tallest to-go cup of coffee available and went to the register.

  "Any word yet?" The station owner, Houston Jones, asked.

  JD shook his head. "No."

  "They'll find him, JD. Half the county's out looking. They'll find him."

  JD nodded. "Thanks Houston, how much I owe you."

  "On the house, neighbor. Get out there and find your boy."

  The generosity touched JD. "You're a good friend. Thank you."

  "You bet. You let me know when you find him, hear?"

  "I will and thank you again."

  JD went back out and got into his truck. He pulled to the end of the drive and stopped, sitting there and trying to decide which way to go. Finally, he decided he'd drive back to the police station and look at the map.

  The dispatcher Helen was marking the county map with all the places that had been searched. Volunteers had been calling in information all night.

  When he arrived, he found Deputy Tom, Wes Pursell and his brother Bronson gathered in front of the map.

  "Anything new?"

  They all turned to look at him. "JD." Wes gestured toward the map. "As you can see, we're ruled out nearly sixty percent of all the properties within twenty-five miles. Volunteers have gone door-to-door in town."

  "And?"

  "And no luck so far."

  JD rubbed his hands over his face. He'd been out all night, along with at nearly a hundred volunteers, checking every farm and ranch in a twenty-five-mile radius. If there had been no sightings, then that had to mean they were looking in the wrong place.

  "So what's the plan?"

  "Going to keep looking," Deputy Tom answered. "And Ms. Windwalker's network has called for the FBI to step in."

  "Are they going to?"

  "Don't know yet. Waiting to hear."

  Cody Sweet ran in and threw herself at JD. "I'm so sorry." She hugged him tight then stepped back. "I shouldn't have left. I should have—"

  "It's not your fault." JD and Wes said at the same time.

  She looked from one to the other and focused on JD. "I'm sorry."

  "Again, it's not your fault, Cody."

  "Still… has anyone seen anything? Any sightings on Briggs' truck?"

  JD shook his head. "Cody, I know you and your father have been out all night." Wes said. "Maybe you can help us check off the places you covered.

  "Yeah, sure."

  JD took a seat and watched the people at the map, marking off locations that had been checked and talking about where next to look. But what was the right place? He drank some of the coffee and thought about the call, about what Jolene had said. Aside from industrial strength stench, fear of asbestos poisoning and a loathing for the seedy side of town, I'm just dandy.

  JD turned to stare out of the window. Industrial strength stench, asbestos and rundown part of town. He shook his head. The police had searched Cotton Creek from top to bottom and there wasn't what you'd call an industrial area in the town.

  Coffee sloshed over the rim of the cup as it came to him. They weren't in Cotton Creek. Rock Ridge had an old industrial section. Thirty years ago, it had been a thriving small city with a number of manufacturers of oil and energy industry equipment. Fifteen years ago, due to the economy and growth in other cities, the businesses moved out, leaving abandoned factories and buildings.

  From what JD had heard, some of the buildings in that area of town had been condemned by the county because of structural problems and the discovery of lead paint and asbestos.

  That had to be it. They were in Rock Ridge.

  "They're in Rock Ridge."

  Everyone turned to look at him and he repeated. "They're in Rock Ridge."

  "What makes you say that?" Deputy Tom asked.

  "Because of what she said on the phone. She said 'aside from industrial strength stench, fear of asbestos poisoning and a loathing for the seedy side of town, I'm just dandy.'"

  "Holy shit, he's right." Wes exclaimed. "Tom, call the police over in Rock Ridge and have them search abandoned factories and buildings."

  "I'm on it."

  JD snatched out his phone and called his brother Bronson. "I know where they are."

  Bronson didn't ask how he knew, he simply said he and the rest of the brothers would meet him at the Rock Ridge police station.

  JD ended the call and stood. "I'm headed for Rock Ridge."

  "JD, let the police handle it," Wes said. "They'll—"

  "No." Cody put her hand on Wes's arm. "Let him go. He needs to go."

  Wes nodded. "Good luck."

  JD nodded in return and left, praying that he was right and that when he found them they would be alive and well.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It wasn't much of a plan, but it was the best she could come up with. It had taken longer to convince Briggs to go along with it than to devise the plan. Jolene had no confidence that the plan would work, at least not for her. If it got Briggs safely out of harm's way then it was worth it. JD would get over losing her. If he lost his son he'd never recover.

  "Do you love him?"

  She looked at Briggs in surprise. "Pardon?"

  "You know you heard me. Come on, Jo. Who knows what will happen when that jerk comes back. Tell me. I need to know. Do you love him? My dad?"

  "Yes."

  "As in stay in Cotton Creek to be with him?"

  "I don't know, Briggs. We haven't gotten that far in our relationship."

  "Would it matter if I told you that Dawson and I would really like for you to stay?"

  "It would mean a lot to me."

  At a noise from the door, they both looked in its direction then scrambled onto the bed, looped the pre-positioned ropes around their legs, and stuck their hands behind their backs. "Just follow the plan,” she whispered as the door opened, then turned her head to one side, making sure her hair fell across her face. She kept her eyes closed as footsteps approached the bed.

  "Wake up."

  Jolene didn't move. She felt the jab in her arm and still didn't move. She did, however, move when a fist plowed into her stomach. Despite the pain, she threw herself off the bed and at Ray Malcom.

  "Now Briggs!"

  As Malcom wrestled with her, Briggs jumped up and ran for the door. He stopped and looked back and she screamed at him. "Run!

  Ray's big fist slammed into the side of her head and sent her careening onto and over the bed. She hit the floor and crawled under the bed. Ray grabbed the frame and jerked it around and she scrambled from beneath it.

  Just as she clamored to her feet, he grabbed her by the hair on the back of her head and slung her around. She slammed into the wall, winded and scared as he came at her. She sidestepped and tried to get around him but his reach was long enough for him to grab her and sling her around again.

  She fell into the metal frame of the bed and before she could right herself, he had hold of her. He slammed her against the frame again and the w
ind went out of her. Jolene knew then she would not get away. He was going to kill her.

  *****

  Briggs had no clue where he was. He just ran blind, bumping into and tripping over things. He had to get out and get help. When he saw light, he ran as fast as he could. The old window was missing panes of glass and too high off the floor to climb through but at least it provided light.

  He stopped, looked around, and spotted another door with dim light spilling through it. He didn't think twice, but raced to it. The cavernous room he emerged in was one he remembered. There was an exit somewhere in here, one that led to freedom.

  With his heart hammering in his chest, he hurried around the room, searching for the exit. When he spotted the door, he felt a little like crying. Briggs barged through the door and didn't stop until he was on the street. He stood there, watching the rear of the building and catching his breath.

  When headlights appeared on the street, he turned, waving his arms. "Hey! Stop!"

  The vehicle stopped and the figure that emerged had those tears springing free. "Dad!" Briggs hauled ass into his father's arms.

  "Thank god." JD held him tight for a moment then pushed him to arm's length. "Are you hurt?"

  "No. I'm okay, but we have to save Jo. She's in there. She saved me and – come on, we have to help her."

  Just then, another truck stopped behind them. Bronson and Jayce climbed out. "He okay?" Bronson yelled the moment he climbed out of the truck.

  "Yeah. Arm up. Jo's still inside."

  Neither of his brothers questioned. JD got the shotgun from behind the seat of his truck and handed it to Briggs. "Can you guide us?"

  "Yes."

  They waited until Bronson and Jayce joined them "I called the law," Jayce announced.

  JD nodded. "Ready?"

  Both of his brothers nodded and he turned to his son. "Okay, show us."

  They followed Briggs inside. JD felt sick to his stomach. He hadn't taken time to ask Briggs what happened, or how Jo had saved him and now he was terrified at what they would find inside.

  *****

  Jolene clawed at the hands wrapped around her throat. Black spots danced before her eyes. In desperation, she kicked as hard as she could. The way the air exploded from Malcom's mouth let her know she'd scored.