Tag: Dragoness

Find all the parts of this story here.

Chapter 10: The Dawn

Part 4: Sophie

“I need water. I’ll be back,” Sophie whispered in Sam’s ear. He nodded, squeezing her hand, before returning to his conversation with his coworkers and their families. Sophie hid a smile as she walked across the grass toward the pavilion with food and drinks. She couldn’t hear or see, but she knew that less than 60 seconds after she left, Amy and Lee were stepping away from their significant others under the guise of getting food or drinks. Gray had Sophie’s small speaker plugged into the pavilion’s sound system, so the bluetooth connection would spread the music across the whole park. She took a few sips of water and scanned the crowd, seeing her friends – her fellow dancers – quietly and discreetly head her way.

Once the dozen starters were under the pavilion, Sophie began a little deep breathing sequence to will the nerves away. Then she stepped behind a large pillar and removed her dress. She stuck it in the bag on the ground and replaced it with a navy t-shirt. She had worn black leggings and a tank beneath her dress, even though it was outrageously hot. She wasn’t that good at dressing in public to risk not wearing the leggings.

Then she grabbed the little pot of black face paint, using a cotton ball to smear a streak beneath each eye. Lee followed suit, and Justina had already done hers. Sophie again scanned the crowd, shocked yet again to realize no one noticed them. People were hilariously oblivious to what they did not expect, and Sophie’s crew had managed to become masters of the unexpected.

Her crew. A little shiver ran down her spine at the thought. She loved these people, a motley group of men and women who all loved to dance, and loved even more to surprise people with their dance.

Stop thinking, Sophie Lane. It’s time.

She pulled her phone out and chose the correct track – “Warriors” by Imagine Dragons, now one of Sam’s favorite bands, too. She made sure it was set to play just that track, not on repeat, then waited for Gray and Ryan to stand in front of her. No one could see the start – that was one of her secrets to success. She pressed play, then dropped the phone back in her bag, heart pounding through her ribs.

As soon as the funky piano came through the speakers, the rest of the dancers in the pavilion removed coverings to show their black pants and navy t-shirts, then moved as one to the grassy space in between the pavilion and the bulk of the officers. The crowd’s response was instant and perfect: heads turned, smiles grew, feet moved backwards to create space.

And when the music swelled through the first verse and into the chorus, Sophie had to work to keep her game face in place, swallowing back her grin at the joyful, surprised faces of her friends. Another two dozen dancers slipped through the crowd, so that 36 people in their navy t-shirts now moved to the rhythm.

The dance was perfect. Sophie had chosen movements that were crisp and masculine, emphasizing the strong beat and powerful instrumentation of the song. They all danced to convey the connection between the lyrics and the officers – men who were warriors, who had given so much to build and strengthen their community.

Sophie had to work so hard not to look at Sam. She wanted to know if he liked her gift. This was the most exposed her crew’s faces had ever been. She wasn’t ashamed of what they did; they just all loved the mystery of the mask. However, today wasn’t about them, but about celebrating the officers who were being honored. She and the group had debated back and forth for days, ultimately deciding not to risk overshadowing the officers by hiding her crew.

As they neared the final refrain, though, Sophie slipped to the back and grabbed the cropped hoodie hidden in a cooler. She threw it on and tugged the strings a little to place her face in shadow, then moved in a half crouch towards the side of the group. As the chorus swelled, a churning circle of humans created a spiral pathway climbing up their backs, onto shoulders, then onto a second layer of backs and shoulders. Sophie waited for the exact right beat, then took off at a run up, up, up until the last chord of the song. Then she stood on the shoulders of two of the smaller guys, who stood on the shoulders of Gray and Ryan – the biggest guys. She struck a pose with one arm pointing to the sky and one hand held open toward Sam and his colleagues.

Finally, breathing harshly and letting the applause and cheers run past her, Sophie allowed her eyes to search for Sam. He stood strong, clapping so hard his shoulders shook, staring right at her. His grin threatened to break his face, and the churning knot of anxiety that had been her companion for the last hour burst like a water balloon and receded. She allowed herself a tiny smile at him before accepting the hands helping her down. She grabbed on, then quickly flung her feet forward to land cheerleader-style on Gray and Ryan’s crossed arms. By the time her feet hit the ground, another pair of much bigger feet in black boots stood toe-to-toe.

“Miss Lane,” came Sam’s deep voice, lightened with mirth. She swallowed hard and looked up.

“Officer Harrison,” she replied, failing to keep her voice even and calm. Then Sam reached back and tugged her hood down. She ran a nervous hand over her now-disheveled hair. When she danced, she put her all into it, and it became quite the workout. Her hair never escaped unscathed.

“Question for you,” Sam stated. She nodded, pleased that he was acting normally. “Am I talking to the Dragoness?”

Sophie studied his face for a long moment before answering. He knew. He obviously knew enough to ask. How long had he suspected? But more importantly…

“What does it mean to you if you are?” she asked.

“What does it mean?” Sam’s eyebrows rose slightly. “It means my girlfriend is the Dragoness. I get to be awesome by association.” He grinned briefly, then sobered as he reached up a tender hand to cup her cheek. “I know you don’t tell people about the dancing so that it remains a surprise. But I think you also don’t tell people because you’re afraid of what they will think of you. Yes?”

She blinked at him and nodded.

“But, honey, I’m proud of you. I’ll keep all your surprises secret, I promise. But you didn’t hide today, and I am far more proud of you and that performance than anything my boss waxed on about this morning,” he said with a soft smile, finishing with a gentle hug. “You were amazing. You are amazing. Thank you.”

Sophie wrapped her arms around him and reveled in his love. He was proud of her! That acceptance was a beautiful gift. She turned her face up to his and accepted another beautiful gift, one that left both of their friends clapping and cheering for a second time.

“Sam,” she whispered after a minute. “Stop.” She knew her face was bright red.
“What?” he feigned innocence while putting an arm around her shoulders and steering her away from the crowd. He grabbed her a bottle of water and accepted her sweatshirt in exchange.

“I’m framing this,” he said with a smile. Sophie snorted.

“Please don’t. At least not until I wash it,” she replied with one raised eyebrow.

“Eh, I’m not afraid of a little sweat,” Sam grinned and claimed another kiss.

“Oh, stop,” she muttered, drinking the water to keep him at bay.

“Stop telling my girlfriend how much I love her? Or how awesome she is? Or how much-”

This time it was Sophie cutting him off with a kiss of her own.

The End

Find all the parts of this story here.

Chapter 10: The Dawn

Part 3: Sam

July 1st dawned bright and hot, as every good July Saturday should. Sam wasn’t sure this day would be so good, though. He dreaded official public events. Today, the Chief would be handing out commendations in a ceremony at the town square pavilion, and Sam wasn’t sure why he was getting one. He had barely played a role in either the breaking up of the drug dealers’ battle or the rescue of Sophie. And yet, Lt. Lehrer told him he had to be there.

At least Sophie would be a bright spot in this day. He had invited her over for pancakes before heading to the park. She had promised to join him, which was about the only thing positive to be said for the ceremony.

Sam shook his head and wandered into the kitchen, forcing his thoughts away from the dreaded pomp to come. Pancakes. He could do pancakes.

Sophie arrived, right on time, looking so pretty in a floral dress. He greeted her with a hug, then hurried back to the kitchen so the pancakes didn’t burn.

“Oh, it smells so good!” Sophie exclaimed. “Can I help?”

“You can find the syrup in the fridge. There’s regular and blackberry.”

He heard the fridge door open and the moving of bottles in the door for way too long.

“Soph?”

“Yeah, I just…” She straightened and chewed her lip. “I think your ‘regular’ is different from my ‘regular’,” she explained with little air quotes. “Mom always buys the bottle shaped like a lady.”

Sam smiled. “I hate to break it to you, but that isn’t real maple syrup. Look at the ingredients next time. You won’t see ‘maple syrup’.”

Sophie wrinkled her forehead. “Well, that’s silly.”

“Indeed. Mine’s in a clear glass bottle, shaped like a maple leaf. You know those now, yes?” He teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, sticking her tongue out for a half second. Eventually, she found the two syrups and put them on the table.

“So, you know the ceremony is outside, yes?” Sam prompted when they had dished up.

“Yes, that’s what you said,” Sophie replied warily.

“Sorry if this is weird, but won’t you be too hot in leggings?”

With a blush, Sophie tugged on the hem of her sundress that rose above her knees when sitting. “The dress is too short otherwise,” she explained. “I just feel better covered.”

“Makes sense,” Sam nodded, even though he wasn’t sure it did. His mother never wore leggings underneath anything that he knew of. Then another question occurred to him and snuck out before he could police the thought.

“Why are your work clothes all baggy?”

God bless her, Sophie just laughed out loud. “I was wondering when you’d ask!” She choked out, eyes shimmering with her joyful laughter. “They’re all hand-me-downs. Remember Mrs. Striker?”


“The matchmaker?”

“That one. She’s got a daughter a little older than me who left the workforce to raise her daughter. She was looking to get rid of her professional clothes just when I needed some. I’m slowly replacing pieces as I have the means. It’s just a lot of money to go from wearing only jeans to suddenly needing nice things five days a week.”

“Huh. Never thought about that. I just wear the same thing every day,” Sam winked at her.

With more laughter, they eventually made their way downtown. The beautiful Williamson Main Street wasn’t exactly historical, but had at least been planned with a sense of community. Besides the dual police/fire station, town hall, and the big park with its pavilion, there were a variety of shops and businesses in buildings with different architectural styles. It wasn’t planned or perfect, which made it a beautifully whimsical place to visit.

Already at 9:30, the park was full of visitors. The usual collection of families with young children played on the playground. Dog walkers used the riverfront walkway. A small crowd of officers’ families and friends gathered in the shade of the pavilion. They’d serve snacks after the ceremony, and the tables were already laden with coolers and bags.

Sophie had wanted to contribute, like all the other guests, so she had finally tried out the no-bake cookie recipe she had been making the night Oliver took her. Sam’s mom had been a huge help in understanding the recipe terms, and had advised Sophie to transport the cookies in a cooler with ice. Sophie’s mom had talked to her over the phone while she prepared the cookies and cried, pouring out her pain and building new memories with love.

Sam had been the happy benefactor of her first three attempts, one of which tasted terrible but looked right, one which tasted heavenly but looked unappealing, and the last of which was a perfect blend of flavor and appetizing appearance. He was looking forward to snitching more of them today.

Sam was bummed when he had to leave Sophie sitting with his parents in the sea of folding chairs, but he squared his shoulders and stood next to his colleagues – his friends, too – in front of the crowd. The police chief talked for a very unreasonable number of minutes, as evidenced by a handful of people in the crowd sneaking a look at their phones multiple times. It was worse than the longest, most boring sermon Sam had ever heard. Still, he stayed tuned in. It wouldn’t do to be the one person who missed a cue.

When the chief was done, all four captains spoke, and finally a handful of lieutenants, including Sam’s own boss. It felt like the speeches went on for hours. Then there were pins placed on pockets and handshakes extended.

After surviving that whole mess, Sam was faced with hugs from his parents, brother, and a million church friends. He was sweating buckets in his long-sleeved uniform, unshaded from the 95-degree day. And the one person he really wanted to be next to stood sweetly and patiently behind everyone else, waiting as if she had a right to him.

She did. He wanted to make sure she knew that, too. He had a little plan – and a little diamond – burning a hole in his mind and sock drawer. Three more days…

Find all the parts of this story here.

Chapter 10: The Dawn

Part 2: Sam

Nearly a week later, Sam dropped off Sophie at his parents’ house long past dinner. She had found three apartments with openings, one in Williamson and two in New Albany, and they had toured all three tonight.

“What did you think of them?” Sophie asked as they sat at the kitchen table with warm cookies from his mom. His parents had made the hilarious choice of making themselves scarce, as though Sam and Sophie were in high school again.

“I think the one in Williamson and the first one in New Albany are both in safe neighborhoods, and the buildings are reasonably secure. I don’t like the last one we saw, though,” he gave his honest assessment.

“Me neither,” she agreed with a shudder before he could explain why. Yeah, the lack of a locking main entrance and nearly the same shade of nasty carpeting probably reminded her a little too much of her current residence. Or previous residence, depending. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry to go back to the apartment.

“Are either of those in your budget?” Sam asked.

“Yup. I didn’t look at ones that weren’t,” she replied.

Smart girl.

“Sam?”

“Yup?”

“Where do you live?”

Sam had to laugh. How had this never come up? “Less than a mile from that apartment in Williamson.”

Sophie blushed, flicking a glance up at him. “Would you mind if…” She paused and chewed on her lip. “Well, if I lived near you?”

Sam resisted the urge to grin like a cheshire cat. It was too soon to say anything, but if he were to be honest with both of them, he’d like her to live very near him at some point in the very near future. He just had to figure out how to get to that point.

“I’d like that,” he settled on the simple reassurance. “It would make it easy to bring you takeout when you work late.”

Now she smiled shyly at him. “I’d like that, too.”

“Hey, before I go, one more thing,” he turned serious. “Oliver Isolah has asked, via his lawyer, to have the opportunity to speak to you. It would be a supervised conversation in an interview room at the county jail. You would be perfectly safe.”

He watched Sophie curl in on herself and wished he could take away the painful memories he knew were flooding her mind. He reached out to take her icy-cold hands in his, rubbing gently to try to warm them.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, please,” he requested when she had chewed on her lip in silence for a minute.

“I… I don’t know,” she looked at him helplessly. “I feel so conflicted. I want to understand why. I want to forgive him. But I also don’t want to go anywhere near him. Do I have a choice?”

“Of course. You can decline Oliver’s request with no repercussions,” he assured.

“Except for my own not knowing,” she corrected.

“Well, it’s possible answers would come out at trial.”

“Trial?” Sophie’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t think…”

“That there would be a trial? Kidnapping isn’t something private parties sue over. It’s a crime, and the state can prosecute Oliver without your involvement if need be. They’ll probably ask you to testify down the road, but you’ll have a choice then, too.”

Sophie appeared to digest that all in silence, again leaving a long break before speaking. Sam had learned to give her time to think.

“I’ll talk to Oliver now. It will be easier to face him privately for the first time than in a court room,” she finally spoke with a nod.

“We can go tomorrow after work if you want. I’m off.”

“Will you come with me?” she asked.

“If you want me, I’m there.”

And he was. Friday night, they slid into uncomfortable chairs across a plain laminate table from more empty, uncomfortable chairs. A short time later, Oliver Isolah entered wearing tan pants and a tan shirt stamped with the initials of the prison. His hands were cuffed together in front.

He looked broken-spirited, Sam thought. Keeping an eye on Sophie, he watched her hands clasp tighter in her lap. He had offered to hold her hand when they sat, but she had declined. Sam wondered if she felt she had to hold herself together for this. He understood, in his own way. He hadn’t been hurt by Oliver in the same way as Sophie, but he had to ask God to take on the burning rage he felt to inflict pain on the man in return.

A harried man in a wrinkled suit accompanied Oliver and the guard escorting him. Oliver and the lawyer sat; the guard remained alert but stood back. There was no chance Oliver would get near Sophie tonight.

The lawyer cleared his throat and looked at Oliver expectantly. Oliver studied Sophie with a sorrowful expression, completely ignoring Sam.

“Thank you… for talking to me, Sophie,” Oliver began, pausing to cough a little. He waited like he expected a response, but Sophie gave him none.

“I wanted to have a chance to explain myself, since you didn’t let me last week.” Now Oliver sounded a little peeved, which raised Sam’s hackles. What was she supposed to do, sit politely with that hood over her head until Oliver decided to talk? Good grief!

Sophie looked at Sam then, and he read a question in her gaze – but he had no idea what she needed. He leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“What is it?”

She turned her lips to his ear. “Can I speak freely? Is this recorded?”

“It is recorded but can’t be used in the trial, because you don’t have a lawyer present. This is not an official visit. So you can speak freely.”

Sophie nodded and turned back to face Oliver. She took a deep breath, surreptitiously slipping her hand over to grip Sam’s. He squeezed her fingers gently in return.

“Oliver, you kidnapped me. You frightened me. That was wrong.” Her tone was gentle, her voice soft, but it was obvious how hurt she was. Even Oliver apparently noticed, because he winced.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he came close to apologizing. “I didn’t see another way.”

“To do what?” Sophie asked.

“Convince you to-” Oliver cut himself off, breathing hard, clearly agitated. Then he cast his first look at Sam, and it was in no way kind and loving. “Does he have to be here?”

Sophie gripped his hand harder, then shocked Sam – and apparently angered Oliver more – by pulling their twined fingers up to rest on the table.

“Yes. He’s my boyfriend. Now please, Oliver, explain what is going on,” Sophie demanded.

Oliver’s face turned beet red, and his lawyer whispered frantically in his ear for a moment before Oliver spoke.

“You deserve better. I know I’m too old for you, but I wanted you to be with someone better. I thought if we spent some time together, maybe I could change your mind.” Oliver spoke haltingly, as if the words were physically painful to remove from his mind. Sam would have liked to give him something physically painful to think about. Vengeance is mine, says the Lord, he reminded himself silently.

“I’m sorry, what?” Sophie spluttered. “This was about me dating Sam?”

Oliver actually huffed like middle schooler. “Yes. He’s a…” Oliver looked at his lawyer and then Sam. He then leaned forward toward Sophie, who leaned back. Sam and the guard both tensed, ready to rise.

“Stay put, Isolah,” the guard growled.

Oliver sat a little farther back in his chair. “Fine. Make me say out loud,” he whined. “Sophie, he’s a …”

Sam’s ears barely registered the common insult for a police officer that Oliver chose, but apparently Sophie was prepared to be enraged on his behalf. She gasped and jumped to her feet, pulling on Sam’s hand. He rose and stood half in front of her.

“Why would you say that? That’s horrid.”

“Don’t be so dense, Sophie. All the police are corrupt. Don’t you read the news?”

“Not all of them, Oliver. And why would kidnapping me help with that? It’s not going to make me like you more.”

Oliver didn’t look at her, rolling his eyes and muttering like a kid. “It didn’t have to be me. Just not him.”

“Did you send me flowers and destroy my apartment?”

Oliver huffed. “He never sent you flowers, did he?”

That solved one mystery, but man, Oliver was nuts.

“Why did you damage my home?”

“He had been there.” Oliver shrugged as if it was no big deal.

“God, have mercy on us all,” Sophie muttered, standing next to Sam now and clasping his hand tightly. He squeezed her fingers in solidarity.

“I don’t know what happened to you to make you think any of this was okay.” She took a deep breath. “Oliver Isolah, shame on you. Sam is a good man. God gave us law enforcement officers to protect us, and yes, to bear the sword. Sam protected me when you endangered my safety.” When Oliver looked to start speaking, Sophie raised her palm to stop him. “I will forgive you eventually, because I don’t want to live with a grudge. I suggest you ask God for his forgiveness, too, and for help trusting his word. Sam is a child of God, Oliver, same as you and I.” Tears flowed freely down Sophie’s cheeks. “We could have been friends, Oliver, but you threw that away. Get some help. Something is wrong in your mind.”

With a last pitying look at Oliver, Sophie nodded at Sam, and he escorted her from the room. When they reached the parking lot, Sophie turned her face up to the setting sun, eyes closed, and let the gentle breeze dry the tears from her face.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“For what?” Sam asked.

“For holding my hand.”

He smiled, wrapping her in a hug. He’d gladly hold her hand forever.

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair.

She melted into him, tightening the hug. “I love you back.”

Find all the parts of this story here.

Chapter 10: The Dawn

Part 1: Sophie

Sophie sat in the Harrison’s kitchen two days later, sipping a cup of tea his mother had gotten ready the second she poked her head out of the guest room. Laurie and Dan had happily welcomed her into their home, and that had pleased her and Sam as well. She certainly had no interest in returning to the apartment from where she had been kidnapped.

Memories still threatened to overwhelm her at odd moments. She’d had a panic attack yesterday when a neighbor had knocked, looking to borrow the lawn mower because his wasn’t working. Laurie had been surprisingly calm and understanding, holding Sophie’s hand and helping her call her own parents until she felt better. This morning, she felt somehow unsettled and unsteady, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the lack of answers was getting to her.

She didn’t have to close her eyes to picture Oliver Isolah’s face, twisted in agony, as he was taken by police from the woods. She wanted to talk to him, maybe to find some closure, but Sam had said it wasn’t possible yet. She needed to wait for the legal processes to do their jobs first. Sophie didn’t like to think of herself as impatient, but she definitely felt it now.

Forcing her mind to the present, Sophie finished her cup of tea and bowl of oatmeal before returning to her room to get dressed. Sam had worked last night again, but promised he would meet them all at church. Sophie’s car was still at her apartment, still scratched and with a broken window because insurance was dragging their feet until the police investigation concluded.

She wanted to wash her hands of the whole situation, but didn’t know how to erase the memories. Sure, she would eventually get her car repaired. Her landlord had been surprisingly sweet, reaching out to offer his condolences in the form of letting her out of her lease early with no penalty. She hadn’t decided what to do on that front, yet.
The present, she reminded herself. Focus on the present. That meant getting dressed for church.

Sam had escorted her to pack a suitcase, so she thankfully had something to wear. After a shower, blow-drying her hair, and putting on her dress and a little makeup, she felt like herself. Like she had some armor.

“Morning, honey,” Sam greeted her with a big hug when she found him in the narthex before church.

“Morning,” she replied quietly. She felt Sam studying her face, but her gaze flicked around nervously from one worshipper to the next.

Everyone seemed so normal. People laughed and hugged, old women patted the children’s cheeks, men teased and elbowed each other. Pastor Concord wandered the narthex, greeting his people like a contented shepherd.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing. The thought whispered through Sophie’s mind, and she shivered, picturing yet again Oliver’s broken expression.

“Soph?” Sam prompted. “Where’d you go?”

It took a lot of effort to drag her attention back to him, and still she couldn’t find words for the feeling related to dread that had taken up residence like a boulder in her heart.

Sam led her into the sanctuary, sat next to her, and put his arm around her shoulders.

“Tell me what’s bothering you,” he whispered.

Sophie closed her eyes, willing her tears to just please stay put for once. She hated crying in public. It took quite a few deep breaths to get herself under some semblance of control.

“He was just like them,” she whispered back, the words catching in her throat. “How can I trust them?” The tears snuck out anyway, and she bowed her head to hide them.

“Oh, honey,” Sam breathed, pulling her head onto his shoulder and letting her cry for a minute before speaking again. “The darkness that lives in Oliver and affected you may never go away. I get that it’s scary no one saw this coming. It scares me, too. But we can’t paint everyone with the same brush as him. Hopefully soon we’ll gain some insight into his mind that will put some of your fears to rest. In the mean time, I can personally vouch for almost everyone in this church. They’re my second family. No, they aren’t perfect, but I’d like to think that between my parents and I, we know people well enough to say you are safe here.”

Sophie took that in, looking around at all the unfamiliar faces sliding into pews. She considered how different this place felt compared to Resurrection, and how similar it felt to her own small-town home congregation. It was as if time moved slower in a small church. There were no screens here, no modern musical instruments. The hymnal was the same as the one at home, which her parents had also used for many years. Women of the congregation prepared the communion service every week. Fresh flowers adorned the very traditional carved wooden altar. The pews were soft from nearly a century of use.

Everything here felt comfortable. Safe. Familiar.

But she didn’t want to paint all of Resurrection with Oliver’s brush, either. It wasn’t Resurrection’s fault that he had committed such a crime. It was Oliver’s responsibility, and it was for him to repent and atone.

Repent. Sophie had her own list of sins for which to repent. In her fear she had doubted God, placing Sam’s skill above the almighty God’s. Now that weighed heavily on her heart, and as the service started, she used the generic corporate confession as an opportunity to confess what was on her mind.

Lord, grant me a heart of faith to trust always in you. Forgive me for straying. Use this fear to draw me closer to you.

The pastor’s words of absolution actually felt like water washing a dirty stain from her skin, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Find all the parts of this story here.

Chapter 9: The Dark Before

Part 4: Sophie

Sophie heard them: footsteps, more than one pair, moving at a steady clip through the woods. Not much talking, just walking.

Her kidnapper also wasn’t talking, but she knew he was there. She would have heard him leaving the clearing- right?

She felt like she had been curled up in this bush for days. She had risked pulling her phone out after the most recent buzz, and she was so thankful she had looked. Sam was sending help. Okay, his boss was sending help, but same difference. She could stay in this bush as long as it took them to get here.

As long as the creep who had taken her didn’t decide to look for her first. Why didn’t he move? He hadn’t said anything in long minutes either. He probably heard the footsteps, too.

She was suddenly unsure what to do when help arrived. Did she stay hidden and wait until they found the kidnapper? What if he was hidden, too? Should she jump up and announce her presence?

She was so tired. Her legs were cramping from being bent and still after her long hike. Her head hurt. Her feet were probably bleeding. Misery had long since sunk into her mind with heartbreaking finality. She wished she could sing out loud. Singing in her head just wasn’t helping any more. She couldn’t focus on the words long enough, so it just frustrated her.

Jesus… She didn’t even know what to pray for. She remembered a verse about the Holy Spirit interceding on her behalf. Was he doing so even now? She needed all the help she could get but had no clue how to ask for it. She let tears fall down her cheeks for the umpteenth time that night, dropping her forehead onto her bent knees. She was just so very tired…

Those footsteps grew noticeably louder. Closer? She hoped so. What should she do? She wasn’t sure how, but an idea occurred to her that she wished she had thought of earlier. Moving very, very slowly so as not to make a sound, she lifted the neck of the sweatshirt until she could tuck her face into it. Then she quietly shoved her phone under the hem. She hoped the neckline was tight enough to her face to block the light, then unlocked her phone and messaged the dispatch number.

I hear footsteps.

Officers are nearing your location. Is the man still there?

Didn’t hear him leave.

Stay hidden and quiet.

She could do that. She’d been doing it, and just had to keep on. She darkened the phone screen and lifted her face out of the sweatshirt, listening as she could now hear the murmur of voices along with the footsteps.

It sounded like a small army. How many people had come? Also, she felt like she had hiked such a long way from anywhere a vehicle could drive. Those officers had hiked all this way for her? She felt small and insignificant, but so loved in that moment. Jesus might not have come incarnate to save her bodily himself, but he had sent those men and women for her. She knew that down to her soul.

The voices grew a little louder, then ceased. The footsteps slowed, then one set took off at a run.

Chaos exploded around her. Men shouted, more footsteps pounded. Sophie instinctively covered her head with her hands. She felt her phone buzz in her lap, but ignored it. She had to physically bite her tongue to keep from screaming as fear tensed every muscle in her body. She couldn’t see in the darkness beyond the bush that shrouded her.

And then, as suddenly as the chaos erupted, it tapered into almost nothing. There were still people moving and speaking quietly, but the one sound she heard above everything else was that of a grown man whimpering and crying. It sounded so pitiful that her heart wrenched in compassion, even as her mind registered that it was her kidnapper crying.

“Sophie Lane!” A loud voice boomed, causing her to flinch. She wasn’t sure if she should respond yet. She pulled her phone out, ignoring the risk of the light, and sent a text directly to Sam.

They’re yelling my name. Can I come out?

It took so long to send that her name was called out several more times. Still, fear kept her from moving.

Officers have secured the suspect. Do you hear them?

That was the dispatcher, of course. Why couldn’t Sam answer? Ugh, she was being silly.

Yes. Ok to leave hiding?

Yes. Detective Breitung is there.

“Sophie Lane! It’s Sgt. Vic Breitung,” the stocky man’s voice was bigger than him. “You’re safe to come out. Can you hear me?”

She started moving her legs, then yelped as that horrible pins-and-needles sensation pricked her long-numb limbs.

“Sophie?” Vic called again.

“Here,” she tried, her voice catching and rasping. She tried again, this time gaining some strength. “Down here!”

Footsteps sounded, the bush rustled, and then a bunch of hands appeared and three sets of eyes peered down at her.

“How’d you get down there?” Vic muttered. “Need a hand?”

Sophie nodded, fresh tears coursing down her face. She couldn’t stop them if she wanted to. “My legs fell asleep.”

Vic snorted. “Course they did. Poor kid,” he shook his head. “Grab on to us,” he instructed. She reached for their hands, and in short order they had hauled her out from underneath the overgrown bush.

A dozen people stared at her, and it was a horribly embarrassing feeling. She couldn’t hold herself upright at that moment, either. Vic had her sit down, anyway, gesturing over a man wearing a slightly different uniform, no weapons, and carrying a big orange backpack.

“Hi, Sophie,” he greeted. It was unnerving to have all these people know who she was… “My name is Jack. I’m an EMT.” He gestured to the logo on his uniform, now visible in the bright light one of the officers had set up.

“I’d like to take some vitals and make sure you’re safe to move before we head back to the vehicles,” Jack explained.

“Sure,” Sophie nodded. Jack got to work listening to her heart, taking her blood pressure, and asking her to catalog every little thing that hurt. Mostly, it was her feet. Her wrists were a little sore from the rope. That was it, though.

While he worked, she watched two men dressed in head-to-toe black bodily haul her kidnapper off the ground. Several other men filed in behind as they started to leave the clearing. Sophie caught her first glimpse of the man unmasked.

“Oliver?” she whispered. Vic looked at her sharply, but didn’t say anything. She just stared as a man she would have called her friend was dragged in handcuffs away from her.

“We ready to head back?” Vic asked as Jack packed up his bulky backpack.

“Yes, but without shoes I don’t want her walking,” Jack replied. He had cleaned and bandaged the little cuts quite neatly.

“Sanderson!” Vic barked. A bear of a man approached, and Sophie couldn’t help but be a little terrified. She was sitting, making him seem even bigger than normal, but still – he had to be at least 6’4″.

Vic crouched down in front of her. “Sorry, squirt, but I’m too short to give you a piggy-back. Sanderson will, though. You okay with that? We can’t get any kind of vehicle or even a four-wheeler up here reasonably.”

Sophie swallowed and glanced up at the big man before nodding. What choice did she have, really? Hike miles in her useless socks, or accept help even if it was uncomfortable?

Turns out, the massive Officer Sanderson was a kind man with a tiny toddler daughter whom he adored. He regaled Sophie with stories of the little one’s sassy attitude all the way down the hill and back to where they had all parked. Sophie easily forgot the discomfort and was able to just enjoy their company.

As they came into the light shining from the garage of a farmhouse, Sophie caught sight of a familiar golden-haired man.

“Sam!” she shrieked, causing Officer Sanderson to almost drop her on the hard gravel. Sam’s head whipped up, then he ate up the ground between them at a sprint. He caught her just as she squirmed off of Sanderson’s back and wrapped her in a tight hug.

“Oh, Sophie, honey, are you okay?” he whispered as he stroked her hair.

“I am now,” she sighed, finally feeling at peace.

Find all the parts of this story here.

Chapter 9: The Dark Before

Part 3: Sam

Downhill from you?

Moon is down. What did that mean? Presumably, downhill from wherever she was standing. Sam scoured the terrain map they had pulled up, looking within the radius he had drawn of a 60-minute drive.

There were two main patches of forest within the circle, and unfortunately they were in opposite directions. Sam considered what he could see of each. He was looking for an uphill grade with a crude outbuilding in a clearing. There were more hills to the north of town, so he decided to the start with that one. He began systematically zooming in and scouring the map in a grid pattern, drawing an X over each section as he confirmed the absence of a cabin. Another dispatcher started in another portion of the same forest and worked towards it.

Sophie? You still there?

Concern grew at the lack of response from Sophie. He had a feeling something had happened. Why hadn’t she answered his last two messages? He forced himself to continue scanning the map while he waited.

The chiming of the computer over his headset sent a jolt of adrenaline down his spine. He flipped over to the messaging app they’d been using to communicate with Sophie.

He’s here.

Then a miniature map with a pin appeared, and Sam cheered out loud.

“Suze!” he pulled her attention to the screen. “We need to roll out.”

Suze immediately jumped to action, notifying Lt. Lehrer who authorized sending out every free unit that wasn’t already working the shooting. Then Lt. Lehrer placed a call to colleagues in Madison who agreed to send out a SWAT unit. The distances were such that the SWAT unit would arrive within 10 minutes of the Williamson officers.

Sam sprinted outside to leap into his patrol vehicle.

“Got room?” Chase Lowden ask, hot on his heals.

“Let’s go!” Sam replied, not slowing down. Chase slid in and slammed his door as Sam was squealing out of the parking lot, lights and sirens going full blast. He joined the parade of other vehicles making their way as quickly as possible toward the north end of town.

Driving through the countryside, past farm fields freshly plowed, usually brought Sam peace and comfort. Tonight, anxiety rolled through his system, overriding any joy the scenery might have yielded. Instead, he pushed his brain to consider the upcoming task as objectively as possible.

They would be hiking through the woods to find Sophie, and there was no way a dozen officers could do so quietly. This wasn’t the movies, and small-town police officers didn’t have superhuman skills. There were so many challenging variables here, besides approaching quietly. Would the kidnapper be in the vicinity of Sophie? Had Sophie moved from her pinned location? Was the pin even accurate enough to find her if she was still in the area? Would Sophie call out, run, or hide when she heard the officers coming?

The fear that the kidnapper had recaptured Sophie was the worst of the questions Sam wrestled with. He didn’t know how to get past that one, though. Her cut off messages and lack of responses made Sam very suspicious that at the least, the kidnapper was nearby. Sophie was smart enough to hide the light of the phone screen if she thought it might get her found.

In just under 40 minutes, Sam pulled into the driveway of a big farming operation partway into the hills. He stopped counting after his eyes skimmed the tenth law enforcement vehicle already present. Someone would have contacted the property owner to get permission to park there. Knowing the farmers in this community, there would likely be water jugs and food showing up soon, too.

Sam made his way to a group gathered next to Lt. Lehrer’s vehicle. Vic had already found his way here from the shooting, likely leaving that job to other officers and detectives who weren’t familiar with Sophie’s stalker.

“Did they say anything else?” Sam asked him quietly as he joined the circle.

Thankfully, Vic knew where Sam’s mind was. “No, but they let us look through their phones. Idiots…” Vic mumbled, but a cocky grin warmed his usually gruff expression for a moment. Sam could only imagine the minefield of information to be found on a drug dealer’s personal cell.

“There was nothing about Sophie on either of them, even going back to the night she interfered with Wic and Denise,” Vic reported. “It’s not proof, but I’d be shocked if either of them managed to coordinate Sophie’s kidnapping weeks after an altercation without using their cell phones, and most notably, without asking for anything in return. Why kidnap her unless it’s for leverage?”

Why, indeed? But even that confused Sam. Sophie didn’t really hold value in the drug wars, did she? Well, except for her connection to Sam, but he wasn’t investigating either of those ridiculous goons.

“So there’s basically no chance it was them, and every chance it’s her stalker, who we still haven’t positively identified,” Sam summed.

Vic gave a curt nod. “That’s the short of it.”

Lt. Lehrer called the group to order and had just begun apprising them all of the plan when the Madison SWAT officers rolled up. That forced the LT to stop talking, wait for the additional help to join, then start over.

“At approximately 7:45pm tonight, 23-year-old Sophie Lane was abducted from her apartment and placed in a truck owned by Oliver Isolah. The abductor wore a mask, so we do not have positive ID that Isolah is our guy. Ms. Lane was able to evade her captor and contact dispatch via text message, sharing her location at 9:39pm.” Lt. Lehrer stopped talking to peek at his watch, and Sam noted his – 10:27. Sophie had been gone almost three hours.

“We are going to approach Ms. Lane’s last known location from the east and the southwest.” Lt. Lehrer spread a large map across the side of his SUV and taped it in place, drawing the rough path the two teams would take.

Within 5 minutes, all but a few officers were assigned to teams and trudging through the woods. Each team had a few SWAT members as well as an EMT with a heavy medical kit. Sam found himself being one of those few officers stuck at the farmhouse. He understood why – he was too emotionally involved and would compromise the situation without thinking. Despite 5 years on the force, he had already lost his head several times where Sophie was concerned.

Instead of going up into the hills, Sam and the LT would monitor the radio. Sam checked in with each team every 2 minutes and noted their coordinates on the map. He also used his laptop to keep in touch with Suze, but no new messages had come through since the location pin.

Lt. Lehrer cleared Sam to have Suze message Sophie that help was on the way. It was a risk, if the kidnapper found her phone. It would be worth the risk if it kept Sophie calm and hidden. Suze sent the message, and 5 minutes later confirmed no response.

Sam studied the map, thinking about Sophie’s earlier messages. He could pull up the log on his laptop. In the woods behind a cabin. Had the kidnapper taken Sophie to that cabin, and she had escaped? Or was he taking her into the woods? There were so many unknowns, it ate at Sam.

Between check-ins, he drank a bottle of water from the farmer and wondered how this night would affect Sophie long term. Would she be too afraid to stay in Williamson? He would understand, but it would hurt so much to have her leave. If she stayed nearby…

His phone dinged – an update from one of the tech team guys who had continued Chase’s research.

Isolah’s parents own cabin at this location:

A map with a pin appeared, the cabin sitting just a few miles from the farmhouse.

“Lt. Lehrer!” Sam hollered, holding out his phone. The man saw the message and sprang into action, directing a few officers to break off from one of the search teams and head for the cabin. Sam began also tracking their location on the big map.

Time seemed to click by slower than a tree growing. Sam watched the markings on the map move closer to Sophie’s last location and the cabin, his nerves prickling with tension. How would this night end?

Find all the parts of this story here.

Chapter 9: The Dark Before

Part 2: Sophie

Dark night and the surreal noises of the woods enveloped her. It was silent, but it wasn’t. For the first few minutes that Sophie ran, she couldn’t hear anything above the sounds of her body: her heart boxing her ribcage, her lungs working like a bellows, her sock-clad feet rustling the underbrush.

Gradually, she became aware of wind whispering through the leaves, of some evening birdsong, of other feet, much smaller than hers, pattering away. She wondered if these woods were less frightening in the daylight, but now wasn’t the time for such musings.

She ran in a random pattern, turning and zig-zagging until she had no clue which direction the cabin was. She was ever so grateful that her jeans were a dark wash and her sweatshirt was navy. When she pulled the hood up – which she did now – she wouldn’t be easily visible in the dark woods.

As soon as she dared, she slowed to a walk and pulled her phone out of her pocket. At the sight of the tiny words ‘No Service’ where little vertical bars should be, she nearly sobbed. What could she do now?

Something niggled in the back of her brain about emergency services and cell phones. Could she possibly still reach 911? But she was too afraid to try to place a call. If her captor was listening at all, he’d certainly hear her voice.

She tried sending a location pin to Sam, but the message failed to send. Then she tried texting 911 with her name and Sam’s. That message took forever and a day, but eventually, a little ‘delivered’ notification appeared. She exhaled fully for the first time in a while.

Still, she walked. She could not stop now. The ground rose slowly but steadily to her right, so she started making her way up. She assumed civilization was probably down, but she couldn’t help wondering if she could get higher up, would she find cell service? Sophie also guessed that her captor would expect her to head for the nearest town or other person. He didn’t know she had a cell phone, she was fairly certain.

Speaking of her cell phone, it buzzed in her hand just then. She hungrily unlocked it and scanned the message. A 911 dispatcher had responded!

Can you describe your location? I will contact Officer Harrison.

In the woods behind a cabin. Drove for 45-60 minutes. Been hiking about 10 minutes.

Do you see the moon? It’s low.

Sophie hadn’t paid any attention to the moon when she sprinted from the cabin. She also hadn’t heard the man yelling, and she suddenly felt uneasy about that. Where was he? Was he coming for her?

Moon. Find the moon. She scanned the trees around her, but the coverage was too dense. She wasn’t sure where to go to find a thinner canopy, either.

Too many trees. Can’t find it. I’m moving uphill.

She walked on for several minutes with no response. She imagined the dispatcher trying to find another way to locate her. What more clues could Sophie give? She hadn’t explored the area enough to know if there was more than one section of forest near Williamson. Come to think of it, they were near enough the border that she could be in Illinois at this point. What dispatch office had received her text, she wondered?

Soph? It’s Sam. You ok?

A little cry of relief escaped her throat, even as she kept walking. The number matched the dispatcher’s. How had they gotten Sam there that fast? Tears escaped and trailed down her cheeks.

I’m not hurt.

Much, anyway. Her feet were definitely hurting from walking in the woods, but nothing needed medical attention.

Can you find me?

Working on it, honey. Keep hiding.

Should I look for a town or other people?

Not yet. Try sending your location to this number.

Sophie followed the steps he had shown her. A green bar crawled slowly across her phone, indicating it was attempting to send the map message, but struggling mightily. She kept hiking, now following a straight path up instead of zig-zagging.

She tried sending a follow-up message that the location ping was on its way, but apparently it queued the messages. Now neither was going through. After walking a ways further, the ‘failed to send’ icon appeared next to both messages.

It won’t go through.

That’s okay. Keep hiking up and tell me what you see.

Trees, but she didn’t think he wanted to know that. She also didn’t know enough to say what kind of trees they were. Wisconsin’s foliage was still quite a foreign subject for her. Something that was green in May?

She hiked on and on, her legs growing weary and the soles of her feet stinging and burning from all the sticks she stepped on. Sometimes the ground was softer than normal, and she didn’t like to think why that might be. Thankfully, she never encountered any strange wildlife. Like most of the critters in Arizona, she guessed the ones here were generally more afraid of her than she was of them. Little did they know she wasn’t some big, bad hunter.

Soph? Still there?

Yup. Just seeing more trees. No landmarks. Sorry.

You’re doing fine. Is the ground dirt or rocky?

Dirt.

Pine needles?

Not many. Some, in some places.

Leaves on the trees?

Some. The spiky ones.

Sam would be laughing at that. He had teased her once about her ignorance of midwestern plant life. Now she wished she had learned more.

Maple. Green or red leaves?

Too dark to tell. Don’t want to risk flashlight.

He’s following?

Haven’t heard or seen since left cabin. Yelled and slammed door when he saw I was gone. No clue if he saw me run.

She wanted to tell Sam the whole story. She wanted to know who had kidnapped her. Ugh, even that word send a shudder down her spine. She was such a normal girl. Normal, everyday girls just shouldn’t get kidnapped. Had she somehow interfered in Denise’s life too much and not realized it? Was it her stalker? Who would do such a thing when she hadn’t hurt anyone?

Tell me if you hear anything.

Will do. Just critters.

Sophie turned now and walked perpendicular to her previous path. This would take her around instead of farther up. She couldn’t exactly call it a mountain; this area had topography more akin to large hills. She hoped going sideways would lead her to an area of different tree coverage to catch sight of the moon, or maybe even enough cell service to hold a phone call.

Still there?

Yup. Walking sideways instead of uphill.

Okay

Five minutes later, she was beginning to see more stars above. She moved a little faster, forgetting to keep her steps quiet. She came upon a clearing with a little shack of sorts and immediately texted the information to the dispatcher/Sam. After being instructed not to approach the dwelling, she stayed under the trees but circled the clearing in hopes of catching a glimpse of the moon. There!

Moon is down –

A loud rustling in the trees made her hit send before she was actually ready, then shove her phone in her pocket. She ducked, hoping the light of her phone screen hadn’t given her away. She felt the device buzz.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The sing-song voice, while disguised, still perfectly matched that of the angry man who had kidnapped her. Sophie clamped her hand over her mouth to hold back a cry as she watched him step from the shadows and into the moonlight.

Find all the parts of this story here.

Chapter 9: The Dark Before

Part 1: Sam

“We need more information on Oliver Isolah,” Sam muttered.

“Working on that,” Vic waved his phone. “Let’s head to the station.”

“What about the truck?” Sam asked. He wanted to feel like they were moving forward, not backward. Or sideways. Or just north, to the station, unless that was where Sophie went.

“The tech guys can do a far better job of tracking the truck than a random foot search. It’s the 21st century,” Vic chuckled.

Okay, Sam deserved that. He was leading with his heart, not his head. When he had climbed into his car to follow Vic towards the station, he spent the drive in prayer. He needed a wisdom he did not possess, a patience he had never known, and God was the only one who could provide those things.

Much as he wanted to feel like a changed – or at least refreshed – man, walking into the station felt like a death knell. Jesus, guide me and give me your strength.

Thankfully, Vic took the lead with what needed to happen next. Sam trailed him, taking in everything as Vic spoke to various people. The tech department got to work digging for information on the car. A random officer who hadn’t left for patrol yet started collecting details on Oliver James Isolah. Vic updated Lt. Lehrer, who mercifully allowed Sam to stay involved, even though it was his girlfriend who was missing.

Kidnapped, actually.

Somehow, admitting the truth in his own mind brought Sam equal measures of terror and peace. He was frightened for Sophie, in a way he had never been before. He’d never had a personal stake in a case like this, nor had he seen the background of a kidnapping case. But he also felt at peace, knowing Sophie was in God’s hands. He would do anything within his power, and encourage those around him in the same, to bring her home safe and sound. At the end of the day, though, God was in control.

Unfortunately, everything moved far too slowly for his taste. He tried to tell himself to hold onto that feeling so he could later empathize with other victim’s families.

Families…

“Vic?” he asked as the man stepped away from yet another conversation. It seemed like so many spinning plates.

“Yup,” Vic replied, not looking up from whatever he was frantically typing with his thumbs.

“Should we notify her family?” Sam asked. He felt like he should know protocol on this, but either he hadn’t learned or it had totally slipped his mind.

“Not yet. Even though Lehrer is calling it a kidnapping, we only have one eyewitness with insufficient testimony to confirm it was Sophie being put in that truck. We’ll issue an alert, but a slender woman in jeans and a baggy blue sweatshirt covers a whole lot of people, even in this county,” Vic explained.

Sam nodded. “What can I do?”

“Get Miller a good picture of Sophie,” Vic pointed absently in the direction of the officer he named. “He’ll put out an alert and have the techs start scanning any public access camera footage he can find.”

“Do we have any of those in town?” Sam would be surprised if they did.

“No, but Madison does.”

45 minutes away. Sam shuddered to think of her in the huge city with only a kidnapper for a companion. She was a small town girl, and her trusting heart showed. She’d struggle so much there.

Sam shook off his worry and headed over to Miller, easily sharing a snapshot of Sophie and answering the man’s questions about her appearance, full name, and date of birth. He watched the man craft and electronically distribute an alert for Sophie and the tiny amount of information they had on the man who had taken her.

“Vic?” The officer who had been researching Oliver – a young man in his third year on the force, Chase Lowden – called out.

“Comin’!” Vic replied, still typing furiously. Sam got to Chase’s desk first.

“Whatcha got?” Vic prompted.

“Oliver Isolah, age 38. Born and raised in Madison, worked there until his company downsized two years ago. He’s been here ever since, working at the hospital in maintenance. No spouse, not much on social media except chatter about what appears to be a group organizing flash mobs,” Chase recited.

“Flash mobs?” Vic raised a brow.

“Yeah, you know. Random dances and stuff,” Chase shrugged. He pulled up a few pictures of people in masks mid-stride. “He refers to someone called the ‘Dragoness’ several times. It appears a woman leads the group.”

“I saw them,” Sam blurted. “In the town square, when I was on a date with Sophie. But no one was wearing that mask.” He pointed to a person wearing a fitted multicolored mask with a dragon’s tail.

“Hmm,” Vic murmured, staring at the photo Chase had pulled up with narrowed eyes. “Any connection to Sophie?”

“None that I’ve found yet,” Chase replied almost apologetically.

“What about church? Any sign he’s Christian? Sophie was going to Resurrection here for a while,” Sam supplied.

“Nothing to indicate either way,” Chase frowned, “but I’ll keep digging.”

Suddenly radios all around him erupted – shots fired at the Maple building. A few of the officers present, including Miller, sprang into action and were out the door in seconds. Sam looked around for Vic and saw him running for the door.

“Want me to tag along?” he asked.

“Stay here!” Vic yelled, running backwards. “Go over to dispatch and start screening any info that comes in. I’ll keep you posted!”

Sam waved him off, then headed down a hall and through a connecting door to the dispatch center. Williamson was just big enough to have their own. The city had been smart enough to construct a building in three sections: police services on the right, dispatch in the middle, and the fire station to the left. City hall was right across the street. Sam liked the community feel and the ease of working together.

Now, he just hoped that ease would translate into quick answers. He greeted the first dispatcher he saw, then headed towards Suze McCane. Suze had been a dispatcher since before Sam was born. Now a shift supervisor, she excelled at keeping a cool head and connecting the right people.

“Officer Harrison!” she greeted him cheerfully. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Sam shook her hand, but couldn’t bring himself to smile back. “I’m here to keep tabs on any information that comes in regarding Sophie Lane.”

A flicker of sorrow crossed Suze’s face before she got to action.

“Headset,” she announced, handing him a corded headset with a microphone attached to her computer. “You can listen in on any calls. Button on your right ear turns on your mic.” She demonstrated with her own headset.

“Has anyone called yet?” he asked.

“Nothing so far,” Suze shook her head.

Sam’s phone pinged a text from Vic.

Two shooters already in custody – Pritchard & Wic.

Any sign of Sophie?

Wic swears he didn’t touch her, no sign of her, Pritchard isn’t talking at all.

Dread curled in Sam’s gut. Either the drug dealers were lying – a good possibility – or Sophie’s stalker had taken her. God, grant us all wisdom, he prayed.

Find all the parts of this story here.

Chapter 8: 212 Degrees

Part 4: Sam

“What’s next?” Sam prompted Vic. There had to be something besides standing around and waiting.

Vic leveled him a long stare. “Not done yet, we are, young greenhorn,” he said in his best Yoda voice – which wasn’t very good.

Sam just glared at him, feeling his blood pressure rise by the second.

“Okay, okay, cool your jets, Harrison,” Vic chided. “Let’s go see if anyone in this neighborhood saw her leave the building, or, better yet, has a doorbell camera.”

Sam followed him out, leaving an offer to put crime scene tape across Sophie’s apartment door and keep watch over the place. He and Vic walked through the parking lot, not seeing anyone out and about close to the building. Across the street, a resident of another apartment complex stood in a skinny strip of grass with a quivering Chihuahua on the end of her pink leash.

“Evening, ma’am,” Vic greeted with far more charm than Sam thought the man possessed. “We’re looking for a missing person. Did you see anyone leaving that building in the last, oh, half hour or so?”

The woman tapped a long fake fingernail on her chin. “I seen a few, maybe.” She shrugged. Sam resisted the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, but just barely.

“Yeah?” That was all Vic was going to ask? Sam expected pointed questions, pressuring her, something more than a single off-hand syllable.

“Mmhmm,” the woman replied with a prim nod. “Old guy, white hair came in not long after they left.”

“I see,” Vic drawled. Sam could feel anxiety crawling up his spine at this ridiculous conversation. Didn’t they know Sophie needed help?

“Yeah. Looked right cozy, too, excepting her face was covered. I wasn’t sure it was a girl at first, with that baggy sweatshirt, but then I saw her feet. No guy ever got feet that slender.” The woman snorted and shook her head.

Her face was covered? What in the world was going on? Sam mentally begged the woman to give every detail she could.

“Huh,” Vic shrugged. “Go figure. Was it two women?”

“Nah,” the woman laughed. “No way to hide his donut belly.”

Vic laughed along with her, and Sam suddenly understood. Vic was establishing rapport and building the woman’s comfort level. He was, at the moment, just grateful he had kept his mouth shut throughout the exchange.

“I hope he at least had some height to spread out that donut belly,” Vic commented.

“Not enough!” The woman laughed some more. “He was barely taller than the girl.”

“Poor dude,” Vic shook his head in mock commiseration. “Nothin’ worse than being a short guy.”

The woman looked him up and down, momentarily trying to gauge his seriousness. When she saw the twinkle in his eyes, she laughed again, loud and long. Sam’s patience dwindled a little further.

“I s’pose you’d know,” she murmured.

“Ain’t that the truth?” Vic grinned. “What color was her hair?”

“Dunno. Her whole head was covered. Not by her hood, though,” the woman tapped her chin again in thought. “Different color. Sweatshirt was blue, thing over her head was black. Anyway, I just figured they were playing some kinky role-play game.”

Sam ground his teeth.

“Hey, folks gotta do what they do,” Vic agreed. “How long has it been since they left? Or since the white-haired man came home?”

The woman looked at her phone. “I brought Mags out for a walk about 20 minutes ago. It was right then. She can go a long ways for having short legs.”

“Impressive little lady,” Vic complimented. “Did you see what car they got in?”

“One of them jacked up pickups. Black. Screamed macho,” she replied with a shake of her head, as if sorry for the man who drove such a vehicle.

“Thank you for your time, ma’am.”

“Y’all have a nice night,” she nodded as they left.

Vic whipped his phone out of his pocket while they walked down the street. Sam glanced over and saw him jotting down notes. When they passed in front of the next residence, Sam squinted up and saw a doorbell camera.

“Vic,” he stopped the man with a hand on his forearm and pointed to the front porch.

“Gold!” Vic cheered, jogging up the path to the front steps.

Once again, Vic displayed an incredible amount of persuasive charm, and before Sam knew what was happening, Vic had a video clip of the truck driving down the street. It was clear enough to get part of the license plate along with the make and model. As Vic was about to call down to the station with the information, his phone rang – one of the other detectives.

“Marcus, what’s up?” Vic greeted while pointing at Sam. Sam widened his eyes.

“You don’t say? What’d you learn?” Now Vic pointed to Sam’s hip, then made the symbol of a phone by his ear with thumb and pinkie. Sam finally picked up on his clues and placed a call to the dispatcher requesting information on the pickup.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Vic finished his call at the same time as Sam.

“What’s up?” Sam asked immediately.

“Well, they finally got the building supervisor to look at some mugs, considering one of his residents was kidnapped,” Vic scoffed in disgust, “and wouldn’t you know, he recognizes Denise’s boyfriend.”

“Archibald?” Sam guessed.

“Nope,” Vic shook his head. “The guy from the first night Sophie met Angel – man by the name of Charlie Wic. And he has a lengthy record to go with the short last name.”

“Let me guess – drug charges?”

“Ding, ding,” Vic confirmed. “For the past 12 years.”

“Anything that ties him to Sophie’s disappearance?” Sam wanted to keep his eyes on the problem at hand.

Vic frowned. “Nothing concrete yet, but I find it interesting that he’s been flying under the radar but very busy in New Albany, his current residence, while keeping a girlfriend in Williamson. She moved here after they started dating.”

“She’s a plant?” Sam guessed. “A way to get a foothold in the community?”

“That’d be my assumption, yes. Why he would attack Angel, or have his muscle do so if Archibald is connected, that I can’t say. But I’m not ready to scratch those three off my mental list.”

Sam’s phone pinged with a message from dispatch – the car was the property of Oliver James Isolah.

“That name mean anything to you?” He showed the message to Vic.

“Nope.”

Sam sighed. “Me neither.”

“Were you hoping it would?”

“Well, yeah. I want to know who took her, where, why, and how fast I can get her back!” Sam voice climbed to a yell the longer he talked. Then he shook his head and physically took a step away from Vic, willing his fear and anger away. “Emotions in your back pocket” wasn’t really working for him today…

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost it,” he quickly apologized.

“All good,” Vic waved away Sam’s outburst. “And for the record, I want all those things, too.” He reached up to clap a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “We’ll find her, Sam.”

Find all the parts of this story here.

Chapter 8: 212 Degrees

Part 3: Sophie

Sophie’s heart refused to beat a normal rhythm. Her mouth felt awful, all the moisture sucked out of it by the rag silencing her. It was hard to breath through the hood. Her shoulders ached from the strange angle with her bound hands. Her hands were tingling as though their binding was too tight for normal circulation.

The man driving still said nothing. He had buckled her in, then started the truck and driven them away without a word. She tried to think back to when he had announced himself at her apartment, but nothing about his voice had sounded familiar. With the mask covering his face, she couldn’t recognize him.

Her brain spun, not completing thoughts but pinging from one thing to the next like a broken pinball machine. She was frightened, sick to her stomach, and desperate for escape.

In an effort to calm herself, she started singing her favorite hymns in her mind. She quickly grew frustrated when she couldn’t remember the words to songs she had sung for years, but she kept at it, skipping lines or verses when her brain wouldn’t focus.
Sophie realized after a good long while that remembering how many hymns she had sung might help her know how long she was in the car. She was determined to hold onto any possible clue in the hopes of passing them along to Sam.

When she got to the Easter hymns floating around her mind, memories of Jonathan and their Easter egg hunts at their grandparents’ house surfaced. Jonathan was so competitive, where Sophie was definitely not. Grandma had resorted to buying only two colors of eggs to make sure they got an equal share, because then she could forbid Jonathan from collecting any that were Sophie’s color.

No one knew that sometimes Sophie had just snuck candy out of Jonathan’s basket later, especially if he had a lot of the tiny Snickers bars. Those were her favorite.

Will I ever taste a Snickers again? she wondered idly, then had to stifle a sob at the thought. She chastised herself; that kind of thinking would not help her. She had to keep her wits about her. More Easter hymns helped soothe her fears again.

After 10 hymns of driving, the truck bounced over what sounded like a gravel road before jerking to a stop. Sophie breathed slowly and silently while she waited for the man to exit, round the vehicle, and open her door. It took him much longer than it should have, she thought. But finally, the door opened, her seatbelt was released, and he gripped her arm much too tightly to pull her from the vehicle.

They marched across gravel, then some grass – she could feel it soft and wet against her socks – before he pulled up on her arm to guide her up three steps. Across a wooden surface, he pushed her ahead of him until she felt cool air on her hands. The little bit of light that had been filtering through the hood was gone, leaving her to understand she had entered a dwelling of some sort.

The man shoved her into a soft seat.

“Stay,” he growled. She simply nodded, listening to his footsteps move across wooden floors. He made some other noises, but she couldn’t pinpoint them to any normal household activity she had heard before. Of course, she didn’t make a regular habit of closing her eyes and listening to life.

“I’ll be back. I expect you to be right where I left you.” With that command, she heard a door slam, and then utter silence.

Fear jacked her heart rate up again as she sat in the stillness, listening, waiting for she knew not what. At some point she started counting, wondering how long the man would be gone. What if she needed the bathroom? Come to think of it, she did need the bathroom.

Sophie had counted to 600 by the time she decided it was safe to move. First things first: vision. Grateful for the flexibility gained by years of dance, she bent her head between her knees, squeezed, and slowly managed to pry the hood off. With disgust, she realized it was a not-very-clean black reusable grocery bag.
Next step: hands. She tried to slide her hands under her hips, but after much wiggling, she came to the conclusion that her arms were too short compared to her torso to accomplish such a maneuver. A glance around proved she was in a one-room cabin. A tiny kitchenette was to her right. She headed there in search of a knife.

Opening kitchen drawers behind her back was a new experience for Sophie. It took a lot of trial and error to bend and lean just right. Eventually, the third drawer revealed a somewhat old-looking knife, hopefully sharp enough to do the job without injuring her too much. Now how to prop the knife securely so she could saw at the ropes around her wrists?

The knife was too short to jam upright in a drawer. The couch was too squishy. There was no dining room chair. Across the way, she spotted a door cracked open enough to reveal a toilet.

Jackpot! Sophie set the knife on the bathroom counter, lifted the toilet seat, then gingerly laid the knife across the edge of the toilet before closing the lid. The knife clattered to the floor, causing a moment of panic. Was the man still here? Had he heard?

When she had counted to 60 with no noise, she picked up the knife and tried again. This time she was able to complete all the backwards maneuvers necessary to wedge the knife under one side of the toilet seat. Then she sat down and oh-so-carefully slid her hands over the knife. She knew enough to ensure that the blade was facing away from her skin and that she was working away from the blade.

She worked her hands back and forth for what felt like an hour, although a tiny digital clock on the counter told her only 10 minutes passed before she felt something slip. She wiggled her wrists, and more space opened between them. With a little more finagling, she was finally able to slip one hand free.

Thank you, Jesus!!! Free of the ropes, she was also able to yank the rag out of her mouth and take a full, non-smelly breath for the first time in… 2 hours and 47 minutes, if the clock was accurate. It had felt so much longer.

She moved to reach for her phone to call Sam just as the horrifying sound of tires on gravel reached her ears. Another huge dose of adrenaline burst through her system.

I have to run, she thought. Immediately, she looked for an exit. There was the front door right next to the couch, but that was out of the question. The window above the sink was too small. The only other window opened onto the front porch, as well. There was no escape.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a small, low door that reminded her of an oversized dog door. She crouched in front of it and pulled it open. Her pounding heart was almost louder than the little door’s squeaking hinges, but she panicked and stilled nonetheless.

The truck engine stopped. Soon she’d hear footsteps…

Sophie forced herself to look through the little door. A small ‘room’, barely big enough for a large dog or a child, had bits of tree bark on the floor. What was this space?

To her great delight, the opposite wall of the box/room featured a glowing rectangle – sunlight shining around the crevices of a second door. Sophie forced her body into the small space, pushing the other door open as footsteps sounded on the front porch.

Panic made her movements jerky and fumbling. Stay on course, Sophie Lane. You can do this. She finally used her foot to kick open the door, a wave of fresh air enticing her. Keys sounded in the front door lock as she pulled the interior door shut behind her.

Springing to the ground, Sophie heard a man’s howl of rage and the slamming of the cabin’s door as she sprinted across the grass and into the thick forest all around.