Tempestuous Taurus Read online

  “Okay, we have to find someone to take care of you so I can try to help Tara. You’re not gonna stop talking now, are you?”

  She shook her head and hugged her bear. Jared was torn between waiting for the detectives and going in search of Tara. He was not a patient man at the best of times, and he had to do something positive. He turned back to face the front and kicked up dirt with his wheels.

  While he was driving, he made a call. “Hey, Tim, I know you’re on the way to the Center, but it looks like the dude who almost ran Tara down is the one in the picture with the tat on his neck—or throat. “I’ll explain later, but can you find out if anyone has managed to dig up some info on him?”

  He called Shawn’s number. “Hey, dude,” he said, “one of the people on Tara’s list of suspects had a tat on his throat, just above his collarbone, and the police artist drew a picture of him.”

  “Yeah. I’ve been working on trying to identify him, but no luck yet. You think he’s the kidnapper?”

  “Yeah. I’m ninety-nine percent sure.”

  “I’ll keep trying,” Shawn said.

  Jared drove to the boarding house. He tried to engage Kaitlyn in conversation, but she had gone mute again. He let her out of her chair and took her hand.

  Ma Pocket was in her office.

  “I have a very big favor to ask,” he said. “Can you watch Kaitlyn until Lou can get out of the hearing at child services? Tara’s in danger and I have to go help her. And—Kaitlyn’s talking. She saw something that can identify the bad dude. I can’t explain now. Gotta go. Thanks so much.”

  Jared climbed back into his truck and drove around for what seemed like hours. He didn’t know what he was expecting to find, but he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary anywhere. Eventually, frustrated, exhausted, and hungry, he headed back to the Center.

  He’d been to every gas station in town and asked if anyone had seen Tara. He’d driven down every major highway, hoping against hope that he would see something—anything that would give him a hint Tara had passed that way. If only they had a lead. Just one little smidgen of a lead, but there was nothing. Zero. Unless the tattoo could be traced to its artist. But Tara said it was partially hidden by the man’s shirt collar, so she couldn’t describe it properly. He wondered if Kaitlyn would be able to give a more detailed account. He would ask her. It would depend on whether she was still willing to communicate.

  The Center was deserted, except for the dogs. Jules must have finished her private lesson, and Merrick and Shawn had gone home. He stuffed a couple of bills into the vending machine and got a packet of chips and a Coke. He sat out on the patio and shared his food with the dogs while he scrolled through the messages on his phone. He was lucky no one needed him to work today.

  He called Merrick, who had texted, asking him to call when he could. “Hey, what happened with the detectives?”

  “They checked out the scene and brought in some evidence techs, who searched the house and tried for fingerprints on the window that was open, but I doubt they got anything. They also examined the fence for footprints but the rain washed away any chance of that. The Feds are going to set up their Mobile Command Unit at the Center when they get here.”

  “Did Shawn say anything about the tattoo?”

  “He said he’ll keep working on it.”

  “So you have nothing?”

  “’Fraid so. How about you? Anything?”

  “Not a fucking thing. I’m back at the Center.”

  “Shawn didn’t find anything else on the computer either. Randall’s done a good job of hiding himself, but Shawn thought he was close to the info. You think it could be him?”

  “He doesn’t fit the profile and anyhow I don’t see him as that kind of person. He wasn’t tough enough. Tara could kick his ass.” He touched his eye. “But you never know. Maybe he has help. We don’t know if the dude with the tattoo is working alone.”

  “If only Kaitlyn could talk, huh?”

  Jared thought about telling Merrick she had spoken, but he decided this wasn’t the time. “Fuck it! There has to be something somewhere.”

  “We’re coming for a therapy session with Jules tomorrow. Theoretically, things have been shut down, but she made us sign a document she printed up to say we are aware that the horses have been acting weird and we’re willing to take our chances with them. Shawn will probably try and do some more digging after that. We don’t have a computer in our rooms in Mrs. Pocket’s place. He says there’s only so much he can do with his phone.”

  Jared tossed the empty containers into the trash. He decided he would do some searching of his own on the computer, and opened the office door, blinking to try to accustom his eyes to the darkness.

  He had to cross the room to turn on the light.

  His foot hooked on something and he grabbed the wall to stop himself falling. He cursed as he reached forward and flipped the switch.

  Why had Tara left a box in the way? She could have pushed it up against the wall. The lid had fallen off and papers were scattered across the floor.

  He sat down on the office chair, and leaned forward to rummage through the file folders that looked as if they had been crammed in and were not neatly organized as he had imagined. Nothing but bills and accounting stuff He picked up the documents that were strewn across the floor, checked to see what they were, and stowed them in the box. One folder was thicker than the others, and as he lifted it, a magazine fell out onto the floor.

  A yearbook from his senior year at high school. He frowned. A strange thing to find in a box of business records. He leaned back in the chair and put his feet up on the desk while he turned the pages and stopped to examine the pictures.

  This boy—what was his name? John Truman. He had been the smartest in the class. He left town to go to college after high school and then his parents left the area. Where was he and what was he doing with himself? And Greg Yancy was still in town, running his old man’s hardware store, having been through college and graduated with a bachelor’s degree that he wasn’t using. He turned the pages, remembering each face and smiling.

  And there on page twenty-five was a picture of himself.

  He sat up, pulled his feet off the desk, and stared. He drew in a loud breath. “What in the hell …?” Someone had scratched his face over with a pen, obliterating it. Who in the hell would do that? Tara? Had she done that after he had been arrested or convicted? Had she hated him this much? No. Tara wouldn’t have done that. Who else? Randall? He was the one person who had access to the office. It couldn’t have been him. Jared had never had a problem with the dude.

  He sank lower and hunched into the chair, trying to recognize more faces and put names to them. It was hard to concentrate. He kept thinking of Tara. What was happening to her? She had to be okay. She was a fighter. She wouldn’t let anyone harm her. But what if she had no choice?

  He sighed and rubbed his forehead, and realized he had a headache.

  Kaitlyn must have been terrified, but whatever had happened had made her talk. Ma Pocket would have hooked up with Lou and sent her home by now. He wondered how the hearing had gone. It wouldn’t be good if Kaitlyn had to go back in the system.

  He frowned at the picture of that asshole Roderick Passmore. He’d had a big crush on Tara and acted like a fool—made a complete idiot of himself when Tara had turned down his invitation to the prom. He knew she and Jared were together, but he wouldn’t take no for answer. He could remember Mrs. Ericson telling them about it.

  “I told him Tara has a boyfriend and closed the door politely. I wasn’t mean or anything, but everyone in town knows you two are together, so I don’t know what he was thinking.”

  The asshole went totally ape-shit and kicked the door, screamed, and then he threw a brick through the window. Tara’s parents had to call the sheriff
to take him away and put him in a cell to cool off for the night.

  Jared frowned as he closed the book and opened the file folder from which it had fallen. It looked like a bunch of letters in envelopes were also in there. He picked one up and turned it over, and sniffed it. He didn’t recognize the handwriting. He took the letter out of its envelope and opened it. His eyes widened. “Jesus!” In front of him in a scrawling hand was the nastiest, most hateful rhetoric he had ever seen. It was signed Roderick Passmore.

  What in hell’s name was with this guy? Jared had a good idea he wasn’t right in the head, but this? He hadn’t handled the rejection at all.

  Jared folded it and stuffed it back in the envelope. He opened another letter and what he read was every bit as shocking as the previous one. Hateful, nasty words directed at Mr. and Mrs. Ericson and Tara and himself.

  Surely, it couldn’t have ended up in murder? And a setup. He wondered who had opened the letters, and if it was Tara’s mom, why had she never mentioned them? Tara would have told him if she knew about them. Her mom must have slid the letters and yearbook into this box with all the business records and forgotten about them. Jared read every letter, and by the end, he was sure this was not only the person who massacred Tara’s parents, but he was also the one who set him up to go to prison. If only Tara’s parents had told someone—had shown the letters to law enforcement. Maybe they’d be alive today if they had taken his threats seriously.

  Could he be the same person who had drugged the horses? Why? To discredit and disrupt the income flow of the Center? To hurt a kid, maybe Kaitlyn? Having gone to such lengths to set Jared up, he would be seriously pissed when he was exonerated.

  The dude was totally off his rocker. It could only be him, and there was no sense in trying to see any logic in his actions. People who were that crazy didn’t see things logically. In today’s world, unhinged students took machine guns to school and shot up their classmates, but this dude had been a lot more calculated than that. He was probably a sociopath—cold and calculating on one hand, and unable to reason on the other hand. Tara’s rejection sent him off the edge.

  He stood up and tucked the file folder under his arm. Inside the house, he grabbed a pistol and a pump-action shotgun and headed for his truck. The Feds would be here soon and they wouldn’t want anyone to do their job, but until then, he would do everything in his power to try to find Tara.

  Chapter 53

  Her thin nightgown torn, feet bleeding, Cassie pushed her way through the thick undergrowth. Tears streaked her face. She was never going to find her way anywhere again. She was totally lost and she didn’t know what to do. If only it was a little lighter and she could see. She stopped, leaned forward, rested her hands on her knees, and closed her eyes. She wanted to cry and cry, but it wouldn’t help.

  Don’t give up, Cassie. Tara’s voice was in her head. Tara had always said that to her whenever things seemed too challenging. She sniffed and stood up. If only she could see some sign of civilization, like a light. She pushed forward, placing one foot in front of the other, stumbling and falling, picking herself up, and forcing her legs to keep moving. She had long since lost the feeling in her feet.

  What was he doing to Tara now? Would he rape her first, and beat her? He wouldn’t kill her right away. He would torture her and make her suffer. How long have I been walking? I haven’t found a house or even seen another vehicle. She looked up into the sky. The clouds had thinned, and her eyes had adjusted to the starlight. She could see the half-moon glowing behind a few straggling clouds. Was she going in circles? If only she had a sense of direction.

  Ahead of her, she could just discern a track in the grass. It looked like cars had driven on it. Was he still searching for her? Had he only just driven here a few minutes before she had seen it? Was he sitting behind one of those bushes laughing—or aiming his shotgun at her head? She gripped handfuls of her hair and pulled it. She wanted to scream, but she didn’t dare. “Oh, my God. This is—this sucks so badly. Why? Why did he have to exist? Why couldn’t he just die?”

  She followed the faint tracks, thankful for the smooth surface and that she didn’t have to force her way through the bushes anymore. A rumble of thunder preceded raindrops, which quickly got stronger. She lifted her face and opened her mouth. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until now. She shouldn’t think about that. Just keep walking. Keep moving no matter what. Keep straining your ears for the sound of a vehicle so you can take cover before he sees you. And you can’t go in a circle.

  The rain slowed and stopped. A lone bird twittered. A faint glow lit up the sky on the horizon ahead. Morning would be here soon. He would come and search for her then. She shouldn’t think about that. The trail had morphed into a rough, stony road.

  The sky grew lighter. She had to keep placing one foot in front of the other. The sky glowed red and the sun appeared and then slid behind a mass of thick clouds.

  The winding gravel trail met a paved road ahead.

  It was wide enough to be a major road.

  Cassie stopped and stood still, listening. She looked behind her to the cover of the trees and bushes. She would be completely exposed if she stepped onto the paved road.

  The sun was almost up over the horizon when she mustered up the courage. She didn’t know which way to go, so she randomly picked a direction and walked along the grass verge of the paved road. She had to keep moving.

  She heard a car coming fast. It couldn’t be him, could it? She had to chance it. She stepped into the middle of the road and waved her arms. “Help! Please help me,” she yelled. The vehicle didn’t even slow, and she jumped out of the way and gave them the finger as they passed. She repeated this process several times, but no one stopped.

  The stones under the grass hurt her feet. The foggy early morning breeze had brought with it a chill, and all she was wearing was a thin nightdress. She shivered and hugged herself.

  A big rig honked its horn and Cassie tried to wave it down, but it passed, just like all the others.

  No. It was stopping, the air brakes screeching and blowing. She steeled herself. It was hard for her to confront strangers. But she didn’t have a choice.

  Chapter 54

  Ignoring the pain in her feet, she jogged toward it. The passenger side door opened and a balding man with a handlebar moustache leaned across and grinned. “Well, lookie here. What’s a pretty little gal like you doing all on her own out here? Had a fight with your boyfriend?” He patted the seat.

  Cassie leaned across to make herself heard above the powerful diesel engine. “No. Please help me. My sister is in danger. A man took her and I think he’s going to kill her.”

  The truck driver grinned as though he didn’t believe it. “Where is she?”

  “In the woods somewhere, but I need to get to Hardship. Can you take me there?”

  He scratched his head, his brow furrowed. “Why’re you going the wrong way then? Hardship’s back there.”

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t see a sign. Please, mister. It’s urgent.”

  “I don’t know. It means I’ll have to turn around and waste some time, and I have a long ways to go.”

  Tears welled up in Cassie’s eyes and she wiped them with her sleeve and sniffed.

  “Well, I was just looking to have some fun.” He pulled the door shut and the truck lurched forward.

  “Fuck you!” Cassie turned around and headed the other way, cursing the fact that she had walked so far heading away from Hardship. Her feet burned and she longed to collapse on the grass and rest, but the urgency of her mission far outweighed the physical discomfort. The good thing was that now she knew she was heading the right way.

  A few cars passed her. None of the drivers showed any inkling that they had seen her. This sucks. What’s wrong with these people? Can’t they see I need help? She was so tired an
d thirsty.

  A red Buick pickup almost looked like it was slowing down in front of her, but she didn’t want to raise her hopes. It pulled off the road. Oh please, please. She jogged toward it.

  The driver rolled down the window.

  “What in hell’s name are you doing out here?” he asked. “You’re gonna catch a cold dressed like that.” He was wearing camouflage and she could smell cigarette smoke on him. Two rifles hung on a gun rack against the back window.

  “I need to get to Hardship. It’s urgent. My sister’s life is in danger. Please, mister. Please help me.”

  “Come on in then.” He opened the passenger side door and she slid inside, suddenly aware that her nightdress was almost transparent.

  Chapter 55

  Tara worked at trying to get her hands loose, but they were tied so tight they were cutting off her blood flow. Had he done this to Cassie? Of course he did. How terrified she must have been. Mom had worked so hard to teach her that people weren’t out to harm her.

  If only they had been able to stop her from leaving home. She would give anything to go back and have the chance to do that.

  She wished she knew where Cassie was. Had she run far away, or was she hanging out in the trees on the periphery of the property? There was no way of knowing.

  Footsteps echoed above her and she strained her ears. The padlock rattled, and the door creaked open. “You’ve had time to think about things now. You don’t know who I am, do you?”

  “What have you done with Cassie?”

  “Your stupid little sister is obviously lost in the woods. I drove around some more, but she wasn’t on any of the roads around here. Hopefully she’ll either get eaten by the cougar that’s been hanging around or she’ll come whimpering back.”

  “My hands hurt,” Tara said. It was difficult to tell what was under that bushy beard. The only light in the room came from the half-open door. She didn’t know anyone with the name Jerry Lundgren, so if he was so sure she knew him, then that wasn’t his real name.