She looked up. “She trusted me,” she said. “The only time she didn’t cry was when I was holding her hand. For some reason she thought I could keep her safe.”
Unsure that Beth realized she was speaking the words out loud, Chloe grasped her fingers and gave them a light squeeze. “And you did.”
A shudder ripped through the teen and her eyes focused back on Chloe, who held the phone out once more. “Not really.” But she took the phone and dialed a number. Hesitated. Then hung up. “No. I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because he doesn’t want me—” her chin quivered and she bit her lip—“and I don’t want him. And if I call him, I might get him killed.” She gave a shaky laugh. “I don’t know why I even care, but I do.”
Blake was at his desk at home staring at the screen on his phone when the call came in for the second time. It was the same number that had called thirty seconds earlier, rang once, then disconnected. He’d just gotten the trace equipment set up and was about to dial the number back when it rang again.
He answered the call then hit the button for the trace. “Hello?”
“Hi, who is this?”
“This is Blake MacCallum. Who’s this?”
“Blake? This is Chloe.”
“Chloe?” Linc’s sister? “Why are you calling?”
“I have a teenager here. I told her to call her dad and she dialed this number, then hung up. I dialed it back and you answered.”
His heart skipped a beat. “Rachel? Is it Rachel?”
How could it be? Had they let her go? Had she escaped?
“Is your name Rachel?” he heard her asking.
“Put her on the phone,” Blake said.
Sounds of the phone transfer, then Rachel’s voice reached him. “Hey.”
“Rachel, are you all right? Who had you? Where were you?” A pause. Anxiety twisted tighter in his belly. “Rachel? Where are you? Tell me where you are and I’ll come get you right this second.”
“I’m . . . I . . . I’m going to hurl.”
“Rachel, wait,” Chloe called.
“I’m going to the bathroom!” His daughter’s voice faded and he pictured her heading for the door.
“Blake?” Chloe’s soft voice came through the line.
“Yeah.”
“She went to the bathroom.”
“I heard.” But it was Rachel. Sounding completely normal. Acting completely normal in her desperate desire to avoid conversation with him. Even in this circumstance. But, somehow, she’d escaped her captors. Thank you, God. “Where are you, Chloe?”
“We’re at Providence Health. I thought she looked familiar, but then thought it was just the shirt?”
“The shirt?”
“Never mind that for now. She’s not cooperating, Blake. She gave me a fake name. I don’t know what’s going on with her.”
Her confusion echoed in his head. He closed his eyes. “It’s okay. Our relationship is complicated. Tell me the truth, is she okay? Why the hospital?”
“Physically, she appears to be fine.”
Physically. That sounded a bit ominous. “But she’s at the hospital. Why? Is it her blood sugar?”
“No, her blood sugars are slightly high, but nothing to cause any alarm. It’s a long story. We’ll explain when you get here.”
He was already opening the door to his truck. “I’m on the way.”
“We’re in the ER, room 2.”
5
Rachel washed her hands and splashed water on her face. Patting it dry with a paper towel, she noticed the fine tremor that ran through her fingers. Her dad was coming. No, not her dad. Blake. He’d fix everything. They may not get along, but he was a problem solver. He would help her, right?
But no, why would he? After all, he didn’t want her. And honestly, who could blame him?
But he’d sounded so worried on the phone. Like he really cared.
But she knew he didn’t.
Tears pricked behind her lids once again as the volley of doubts waged war within her. What would it take to make him love her?
He admired strength. She’d tried to be strong.
He admired integrity. She’d tried to act in such a way that would make him see she had that.
He respected authority. She did well in school and had never had the first behavior issue.
“Why?” she whispered to the face in the mirror.
Obviously. Because he’d never wanted her.
Only now he was stuck with her because her mother was dead. She tossed the paper towel in the trash and drew in a steadying breath.
She could do this. She had to get Lindsey help.
And her father had the resources to do that. He might not want her, but he was a cop. He would help. Period.
Decision made, she opened the door to step back out.
“Are you sure?”
She froze.
She knew that voice. It belonged to Carson.
But no, it couldn’t be him. Could it?
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he said. “I’m heading home, but I’ll check in with you soon. I have your number.”
She stared. It was definitely him. And he was grinning down at the nurse, who looked like she might melt all over the floor at his feet. He flashed twin dimples and the nurse simpered.
Rachel closed the door just enough to see out and held still, motionless, breathless, her palm slick on the doorknob. Should she scream? Bring attention to him? Would they lock her up if she shouted her accusations? He’d deny it, come up with some excuse, say she was crazy and had him confused with someone else.
But she wasn’t. It was him.
And he was leaving.
She opened the door farther and started to call out, then stopped. If you get away. If you call anyone. If you bring attention to yourself in any way while we’re en route to the destination, I’ll kill everyone you love. And I’ll make you watch.
Rachel shuddered and snapped her mouth shut. He’d kill Lindsey if she said anything. They might lock him up to question him, but he’d get a phone call. And that call would bring death to people she loved.
Starting with Lindsey.
His footsteps carried him toward the exit. I’m heading home.
Did he mean he was going back to the house where Lindsey was? Or to his actual home? But she’d heard his voice at all hours of the day and night. Maybe he lived at the house.
Rachel had no idea where she’d been held captive, she just knew that it was a house—and dark. Even if she talked to the investigators or her father, she couldn’t give them the first clue as to the location of the place.
But this guy could. He was almost at the door that would take him out of the Emergency Department.
She swung the door open, deciding to go get Chloe, but paused . . . I’ll kill everyone you love. And I’ll make you watch. She stood in the doorway, wrestling with the decision.
“Are you all right?”
It was the nurse Carson had been talking to at the nurses’ station.
Rachel licked her lips. “Yes. No. Tell them—”
“Eve?” Another nurse leaned out of a nearby room. “Need you in here STAT!”
Eve took off, and Rachel swallowed, never taking her eyes from Carson’s retreating figure.
. . . I’ll kill everyone you love. And I’ll make you watch. If she went to get help, he’d get away.
And if he got away, Lindsey might never be found.
She couldn’t chance it.
Rachel slipped out of the restroom and let the door shut behind her. With a quick glance around her, she ducked her head and hurried in the direction Carson had gone, stopping only when she saw the insulin pods on the cart next to room 4, labeled with her name. Another quick glance around showed no one watching. Hand hovering over the pods, she hesitated. What good were the pods without her PDM. But next to the pods was an insulin pen. With that, she could at least give herself more insulin. She grabbed it and shoved it into her back pocket, then hurried after Carson, bursting through the outer door into the hall.
A spurt of panic shot through her when she didn’t see him, but in another ten steps, she caught a glimpse of him in the revolving door that would take him out of the hospital.
Goosebumps pebbled her skin at the blast of chilly air he let in. Then he was outside and she had no more time to worry about her physical discomfort and no way to leave a note or signal someone. She hurried after him.