The Boy in the Window

Melanie’s gaze flicked to Owen. “What do you want?”

Owen cleared his throat, noticing the slight slur in the woman’s voice. “I’m looking for my wife. I was told she came by here earlier.”

“She showed up here waving a painting around and talking a bunch of nonsense.”

Ruckle reached up and touched Melanie on the arm. “I know you’re upset, but trust me when I say that hurting you was the last thing Jessica wanted to do.”

Melanie shifted her attention back to Ruckle, and her eyes narrowed. “You knew she was coming here with that garbage?”

“I did. But she would never intentionally upset you, Melanie. She’d hoped to speak with Jasper to see if he would recognize the painting she’d done last night.”

Melanie paled and staggered back a step. “That’s just sick. Why would she want to show Jasper a painting of our son lying in a shallow grave?”

Steven glanced at Owen and then back to Melanie. “No…the other one. The one with the little gray cabin on the lake.”

“A gray cabin on the lake,” Melanie repeated in a wooden voice. She turned to look over her shoulder and stumbled slightly. “Jasper!”

Owen took a step forward. “Did Jessica say where she was going when she left here?”

Melanie called out to her husband once more, her gait unsteady. “Jasper!”

“Please,” Owen interjected, drawing Melanie’s attention back to him. “Anything you can remember will help. Did she say—”

“Jasper’s not here.” Melanie’s dazed eyes grew more confused if that were possible.

More than a little frustrated, Owen ground out between clenched teeth. “Mrs. Dayton, did my wife give any indication where she might be heading when she left here?”

Melanie shook her head, her hand coming up to massage her left temple. She settled her unfocused gaze on Ruckle as if Owen hadn’t spoken. “Why would she want to know about our cabin?”

Ruckle stilled. “Your cabin?”

“It’s more Jasper’s than mine. He spent a lot of time there before Terry disappeared…”

“Where is Jasper, now?” Ruckle demanded, suddenly gripping her upper arms.

Melanie squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “I don’t know. I thought he was here.”

“The cabin. Tell me how to get to the cabin.”

Her eyelids lifted and Owen could see the tears forming there. She took a shuddering breath and then rattled off an address. “What’s going on, Steven?”

Ruckle released her, spun on his heel, and sailed off the porch without answering.

“What are you not telling me?” Owen barked, catching up to Ruckle in a few short strides.

“I believe Jasper Dayton has Jessica!”

The bottom dropped out of Owen’s stomach. “We’ll take my car!”

Owen was behind the wheel and squealing tires before Steven’s door finished closing.

“Talk to me,” Owen demanded, switching on the defrost to clear the windshield.

Steven engaged his seatbelt. “Take a left at the four-way up ahead.”

“Why the hell would Jasper have Jessica?” Owen snarled, turning at the four-way without slowing.

Ruckle gripped the dash with both hands. “The picture Jessica painted last night of the cabin on the lake? She took that painting to the Daytons this evening.”

Owen listened as Ruckle explained everything that had happened recently, including the details of Jessica’s recent painting.

Ruckle met his gaze. “That cabin belongs to Jasper Dayton.”

“Son of a bitch,” Owen growled, his mind conjuring up everything Jess had told him over the past few weeks. “She tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t hear her. I had her locked in a mental ward, for God’s sake.” He floored the gas pedal.

Ruckle continued to grip that dash. “Don’t let your guilt get us killed, man. Pay attention to the damn road.”

But Owen was no longer listening. His mind could think of nothing but Jessica and how he’d unintentionally pushed her away. If something happened to her because of his idiocy, Owen would never forgive himself. He drove faster. “Call the police.”

“And tell them what? We have no proof of anything. All we have are two paintings from a woman who’s a suspect in a murder case. Not to mention she just spent three days in the mental hospital. Trust me, they won’t come rushing out here with guns drawn.”

Owen felt sick. “Call them anyway!”

Ruckle dug his cellphone from the pocket of his pants and dialed 911.

Owen listened as he gave them the address to the cabin.

“I don’t know,” Ruckle growled into the phone after giving the dispatcher what information he knew. “Just hurry.” He ended the call.

“How much farther is this damn cabin?” Owen felt as if they’d been driving for hours.

“Approximately five more minutes. Turn right just beyond those railroad tracks up ahead.”

A flash of lightning revealed a wash out in the road. Owen slammed on breaks a second too late. He lost control of the car, fighting to hold onto the wheel as they spun violently off the side of the road.

With his breath punching in and out of his chest, Owen pressed the gas, only to realize the tires were spinning in the mud.

A string of curses soon filled the car. “Son of a bitch, we’re stuck!”

Jerking open the door, Owen jumped out. “Hurry,” he snarled, already breaking into a run.





Chapter Forty-Four


Jessica rolled to her side in an attempt to relieve some of the pain in her shoulders. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been bound and gagged, but her arms had gone to sleep long ago, sending sharp prickly pains shooting through her hands.

She gritted her teeth, straining to open her eyes enough to check out her surroundings.

The door abruptly opened, and the sound of footballs echoed inside the room. “You’re awake.”

Jessica’s heart stuttered in stunned disbelief. She angled her head in the direction of Jasper Dayton’s voice. She wanted to cry out, to beg him to release her, but the gag in her mouth held her back.

The thumping of his boots grew closer, terrifying Jess and drawing a whimper from her throat. She blinked through her swollen lids, barely able to discern his features in the dim light surrounding him.

He dropped to his haunches next to her and removed the gag from her mouth. “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.”

Jessica swallowed around her confusion and terror. “My arms,” she gasped in torment. “Please…”

His sigh blew the hair back from her face. She could smell his cologne as he leaned over her and severed the bonds at her wrists.

Jessica cried out with the burn of the sudden feeling that shot up her arms. She rolled to her back, her teeth locked together in agony.

“It didn’t have to be this way, Jessica. If you’d simply stopped nosing around where you didn’t belong, none of this would be happening now.”

Finding her voice, Jessica croaked, “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

Instead of answering right away, Jasper took hold of the hem of her shirt and wiped the blood away from her nose. “I’m pretty sure that airbag broke your nose.”

An image of headlights rushing up behind her—the car slamming into the back of her SUV, lit through her mind. “You ran me off the road.” It wasn’t a question.

“You left me no choice. This is all your fault, Jessica. Sandy Weaver, Eustice Martin, all of it.”

Jessica squinted up at him. “What are you talking about?” Her gaze flicked to the knife Jasper held in his hand.

He glanced down at the blade and without warning, cut the bonds at Jessica’s feet. “Get up.”

“J-Jasper…”

Gripping her by the hair, Jasper yanked her upright and then shoved her toward the door. “Move.”

Jessica stumbled to her knees, so great was her terror. It took her several tries to push back to her feet. “What’s happening, Jasper? I—”

The click of a hammer being cocked shut down the rest of Jessica’s plea.

She staggered forward in fear and disbelief, opened the door and stepped out into the rain.

“Keep moving,” Jasper demanded, pressing his weapon between her shoulder blades.

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