“Quinn, check on your sister in the kitchen,” the mother ordered, reaching to her left, no doubt for a shotgun.
I took a step back. “I don’t want any trouble. I’m looking for my daughter. I was told she might have come here to call for help.” I didn’t want to elaborate too much and scare either her or her son.
Concern replaced her trepidation. “I’m sorry, your daughter isn’t here. Did her car break down on the road?”
That wasn’t the answer I was hoping for.
A little girl called Quinn’s name.
“Quinn, go mind your sister. Now.”
The boy darted off reluctantly.
“Do you know anything about your neighbors, ma’am? I’m working with the police. We have reason to believe that my daughter and others are on the farm next door.”
She had her arm ready to grab her weapon. “I stay out of my neighbors’ businesses. But there has been a lot of activity over there. Lots of men. Not sure what’s going on. The new owner purchased the property about a year ago. That’s all I know.”
“Is there a shortcut from here to there?” I asked.
“Off the driveway on the side of the house, there’s a path that leads to a brook, probably bigger now with this rain. The farm lies on the other side of the brook.”
“Would you do me a huge favor?” I asked. “Can you call the local police? I know my daughter is in danger, as well as my girlfriend. My buddy at the Boston PD is also calling for backup, but I would like more.”
“I know the cops around here,” she said.
“Whatever you do, please don’t open the door like you did for me. I’m grateful you did, but there are some dangerous men on that farm.” I didn’t want to scare her, but she needed to know.
“I usually don’t. My husband has a flat tire about four miles down the road. He said he was walking home, and with this storm, I’m worried.” She revealed her shotgun. “I know how to protect my family. Good luck, sir. I hope your daughter and your girlfriend aren't harmed.”
You and me both.
I removed my flashlight from my jacket and jogged to the path, which wasn’t much of one. The ground was muddy, sparsely covered in pebbles and leaves. Thunder rolled as I picked up my pace. My boots sank into mud, each of my stepsdeliberate, each beat of my heart strong as I planned out the death of anyone who dared touch Fran.
I kept the flashlight angled downward, helping light the way. I couldn’t afford any injuries, and with this storm and the darkness, the forest was a battlefield waiting to annihilate me or anyone like my daughter.
If she wasn’t at Weeping Meadow, then she had to be somewhere between the two farms unless she’d gotten caught.
I sniffed the air for nothing more than to ground myself and focus, sharpen my senses, watch for movement, and listen for anything beyond the storm’s fury.
I reached the brook the woman had spoken of. It looked like a large pond. I swept my flashlight around. The only way to the other side was through the water.
I was already wet, so I trudged through the brook, and as soon as I cleared the water, a bloodcurdling scream cut through the air.
“Fran!” Her name tore from my throat before I could stop it. Amateur move—giving away my position—but this was my daughter, my blood.
I ran toward the sound, the flashlight guiding my way as I pushed through wet branches. I jerked to my left, where movement caused me to shine the light on a man who was restraining a blond girl. I couldn’t tell yet if it was my daughter.
I raised the binoculars from around my neck, confirming it was Fran. My blood boiled as I stalked toward the asshole who held my daughter in his grasp, with the wordkillon my mind.
“Fran,” I said in a loud voice to make sure she heard me. To make sure she knew she wouldn’t be a victim of this fucker.
I swung my flashlight up to find that the beast of a man had his hand clamped over her mouth, his nose pressed to her ear.
Rage like I’d never felt before rounded my focus to a pinpoint target—his skull, which was where the first bullet would go.
“If I were you, asshole,” I said to the fat fuck holding my daughter hostage, “I would let her go.”
When her green eyes widened, the world came to a screeching halt, as did I. I slowly wound my hand around to my back for the gun but hesitated.
