“Everything’s rules, his rules, and he’d whip the skin off my bones if I broke one.”
“I don’t blame you for leaving.” More sympathy, she told herself. Give him sympathy, understanding. Family feelings. “Your ma would’ve protected you, but he had her locked up.”
“I came back. It’s my land as much as his. I’ve got a right to it. I’m going to make a family. I’ll have sons, and wives and a family.”
“You’ve got family. I’m your cousin. You’ve got to let me go, Easy. I can take you to the ranch, to your ma.”
“It’s not gonna work that way. I’m not stupid. Maybe you’re the liar. I gotta think.” He went to the door, unlocked it. “If you’re lying, I’m going to have to hurt you. Have to punish you for it.”
“I’m not lying.”
He went out, and she heard the locks clunk. For a moment she let herself fall apart, just crumble and shake and weep. Then she pushed off the bed, stood rocky, but stood.
She reached in her back pocket, but wasn’t surprised he’d taken her phone. But from her front pocket, she pulled the little penknife she always carried, and sitting on the floor, tore back the foam. She began to dig around the bolt of the shackles.
CHAPTER THIRTY
He wouldn’t allow panic; he wouldn’t allow rage. Both lived inside him, but Callen kept them locked in as he stood in the Longbow kitchen.
The sheriff had come and gone. He knew Tate had every deputy out looking, had contacted the FBI, intended to push hard on the sources he’d been cultivating.
It didn’t mean a damn to him.
He’d listened to Chelsea weep. She’d forgotten samples, and Bodine had gone by her place to get them. Nobody doubted whoever had Bodine had intended to take Chelsea.
But even when Chelsea had stopped weeping, she had no idea who had planned to abduct her.
Tate claimed they had an advantage, that with the timeline it couldn’t have been much more than an hour between the time Bodine had been taken and when Jessica had found the car, the hat.
That didn’t mean a damn to him, either.
What mattered was at first light he’d start where Alice had been found, start doing his own search.
He listened, and he studied the map Sam had spread out. And if he noticed Sam’s fingers trembled now and then, he said nothing. Every soul on the ranch, others from the resort, they’d all take a section of that map and search in groups.
In trucks, on horseback, on ATVs.
He had his own section, and nothing would sway him.
“They’ve searched miles around there,” Sam pointed out.
“Plenty of miles left. I’m damned if whoever took Alice isn’t who took Bodine. I just need to borrow a trailer. I’ll drive that far, and take Sundown from there. We can cover more ground.”
“There are roads, gravel.” Alice stood at the base of the back stairs, pale as the moon in her pajamas. “And fences, and places where the snow was so deep. I made a snow angel. I remember. Sir took Bodine. I heard you talking. He took Bodine.”
“You don’t need to worry now.” Cora, so exhausted she had to lever up from the table, stood.
“Yes! Yes, I have to worry. Stop it, stop it, stop it.” She pressed her hand to her mouth. “I can go back. If I could find it, I could go back. Will he let her go if I go back? I don’t want him to hurt Bodine. She’s mine, too. I’ll go back if I can find it.”
Maureen laid a hand on Cora’s arm, then rose and went to Alice. Enfolded her. “I know you would, but we’ll find her. We’re going to find her.”
“I love her, Reenie. I promise, I promise.”
“I know.”
“I shouldn’t have left. He wouldn’t have taken her if I hadn’t left.”
“No. That’s not true, and don’t ever, ever think it.”
“Maybe Rory knows. Does he know how to get back?”
“We’re going to look,” Rory told her. “We’re going to find her.”
“Not Reenie’s Rory. My Rory. Does he know?”
“Let’s sit down now. Jessica, would you make tea? I just can’t—”
“Of course.”
“I don’t want to sit. I don’t need to sit. You sit! If Rory knows … I didn’t want him to know. His father’s evil. His father’s mean. He shouldn’t have to know. He was just a baby.”
“Alice, please.” Undone, Maureen dropped down, covered her face with her hands.
“I told Bodine. I told her I wouldn’t tell them, any of my babies. Not my babies now. I told her. She said I was brave. But if he knows, he already knows. We have to ask if he knows or Sir will hurt her. He’ll rape her and take her babies. He’ll—”
“Stop it!” Maureen shoved up again, rounded on Alice. “Stop it.”
But Callen nudged Maureen clear, laid both hands on Alice’s shoulders. “How would we find him to see if he knows?”
“You know.”
“I can’t think of it right now, Alice. I can’t get my mind clear. Help me out.”
“He’s good with the horses. He’s polite and says ma’am. He has green in his eyes and some red in his hair, just a little. He calls you boss, and Bodine’s the big boss. He’d help find Bodine if he can. He’s a good boy.”
It broke in him, broke over him. He had to lift his hands from her shoulders before they dug down to bone. “Yeah, that’s right. Easy LaFoy,” Callen said as he turned back to the table. “She’s talking about Easy LaFoy.”
*
The bolt went through the drywall and deep into the stud. Digging and hacking at the wood dulled the blade. Covered in sweat, fingertips bloody, she made herself stand, made herself search for something, anything she could use as a weapon or tool.
Plastic forks and spoons, plastic plates and cups. A cheap ceramic mug. She considered breaking it, hoping for a couple sharp shards, and put that aside for later, if necessary.
She studied the bathroom, the chain slapping behind her.
She turned, eyed the window, dark with night. If she could get the damn bolt out of the wall, she might find a way to pull herself up to it, break it. She’d be able to squeeze through, barely, but she’d squeeze through.
The problem remained that with a dull pocketknife it would take days, even longer to dig out the bolt.
She doubted she had days.
If Easy believed her, he couldn’t use her. He might cut his losses there. If he didn’t believe her, he’d use her.
People would look for her, and maybe they’d find her before she was dead or before she’d been beaten and raped, but she couldn’t count on it.
She looked down at the pocketknife. Aim for his eye, she thought, cold as winter. It might be enough, but she’d still be chained to the wall.
She went back, sat on the floor again, and this time played the knife into the lock of the leg irons. She’d never picked a lock in her life, but if there’d ever been a time to learn, it was now.
Could she talk him into unlocking her? Play the blood kin card? Hey, Easy, why don’t you show me around the place?
She dropped her head to her knees, just breathed in, breathed out.