Brian Freeman - Stripped

“Okay, loosen up just a bit” Serena said.

She worked her own fingers into Claire’s hands and curled them around the phone. It was small and familiar. “I’ve got it.”

Claire breathed a sigh of relief.

The car swung through another turn, and Serena clutched the phone and tried to brace herself to keep from sliding. Claire bumped up against her. Serena almost lost her grip and bobbled the phone in her fingers, but then felt it sink back into her hands. She ran her fingertips over the keypad and tried to imagine the numbers laid out on the phone. The keys were almost flat, and she could barely feel them.

She pressed what she thought was the number two. The speed dial code for Jonny’s cell phone.

Nothing happened.

Serena tried another key with the same result. Finally, she realized that she had turned the phone off as she grabbed it from the floor in her bedroom, to make sure that an incoming call didn’t give away what she was hiding in her pocket.

“Shit, it’s off,” she said.

She hunted for the key that turned the phone back on and held it down. As she did, she felt the car turn onto a rutted stretch of pavement that rocked the vehicle up and down. The brakes squealed, and the car lurched to a stop.

The phone lit up. It began hunting for a signal. “Come on, come on,” Serena urged.

She heard the driver’s door open and Blake get out. His footsteps crunched on gravel.

“Hurry,” Claire said.

Serena punched the number two button again and held her breath. Blake was almost to the trunk. The phone began ringing.

Stride swung into the gated driveway of the town-home complex and knew something was wrong. The gate was wide open. He hesitated and felt his horror grow as he heard sirens drawing closer through the surrounding streets.

He tried Serena’s cell phone again, as he had been doing constantly on the drive west from downtown. There was no answer. He tried their home number again, too, and heard Serena’s voice as the answering machine picked up. The hollow feeling in his stomach became an awful pounding in his head. He accelerated into the winding streets past the maze of homes.

When he reached their street, he saw a body lying under the glow of a streetlight. A big man, slumped like a beached whale. Stride got out of the car, the engine still running. The man was facedown, half off the curb, with blood dripping in the gutter. Recently dead. The burnt smell of powder was still fresh in the air. Stride bent down and saw the hole in the man’s forehead, and despite the red trails on his face, he knew it was Leo Rucci.

He had held out a faint hope that it might be Blake.

Stride ran for the house with an awful vision of what he would find inside. The front door was open. He drew his gun and leveled it as he crept through the doorway. He listened for voices or movement upstairs but didn’t hear a thing. When he glanced automatically at the alarm box on the wall, he saw that it had been disconnected. His heart turned to lead and seemed to plummet to the floor.

He was about to scream her name, but he stopped himself. Blake might still be here.

Stride silentiy followed the wall to the stairs and waited, listening again. He scoped out the empty hallway and took the steps to the second floor. The three bedroom doors upstairs were all ajar. The first, their office, hadn’t been touched. The second was the spare bedroom, and he saw Claire’s clothes on the floor. He checked the bathroom and the closet inside and didn’t find anything amiss.

That left their own bedroom at the end of the hall.

He stared at it and didn’t want to go through the doorway. Reluctantly, he sniffed the air, and he was relieved that he didn’t catch the mineral scent of blood. He could see part of the bed ahead of him, its blankets rumpled.

Anyone who was there would already have heard him coming. “Serena?” he called, not expecting an answer.

Stride used the toe of his shoe to push the door open slowly. He led the way inside with his gun. His eyes swept the room in an instant, and his heart started beating again when he realized there were no bodies on the floor. But something had happened here. The nightstand lamp was on the carpet, and the nightstand itself was tipped against the wall. Debris littered the floor-a hairbrush, a hardcover book, lipstick.

A fight?

It didn’t matter. They were gone.

Stride went back downstairs and tried to figure it out. If Blake hadn’t killed them here, what had he done with them? His MO was murder, not kidnapping. If he had taken them, why? Where was he going?

Stride went out into the night air again. The sirens were closer. The police would find him soon, and he didn’t want to be here. Every second put Serena and Claire at greater risk.

He went back to his Bronco. As he turned it around and headed for the street, he heard his cell phone ringing. He grabbed it from his pocket and saw Serena’s number on the caller ID.

“Where are you?”

Serena froze. She heard Jonny’s desperate voice in her ear as he answered. Blake was at the trunk, and she expected to feel a rush of air as he swung it open and see him looming above them.

“Wait, Jonny,” she hissed into the phone.

She listened and realized that Blake had continued walking past the trunk. He was somewhere close by, and she heard the jangle of metal, like a chain scraping through the links of a fence.

“Serena!” she heard in her ear.

“I’m here, I’m here,” she whispered.

“Where are you?” he repeated.

Serena knew their emotions were both running wild. She had to stay in control. Report the facts. They wouldn’t have much time before Blake came back.

“I don’t know yet. Claire and I are in the trunk of a white Impala.” She rattled off the license plate. “We drove for twenty minutes or so, and we’re stopped now.”

“Are you hurt?” Stride asked her.

“No. A little bruised, but we’re both okay. He killed Rucci.”

“I know, I found the body. Do you know which direction he went?”

“I think we headed east, but I couldn’t keep track.”

“Do you know what he’s doing?” Stride asked.

“No. This feels like the endgame, though.”

“How do I find you?”

Serena thought about it. “I don’t know.”

“If you keep the cell phone on, I might be able to have the phone company trace the signal,” Stride suggested.

“That’ll take too long, Jonny.”

“I know.”

Serena listened. Blake was doing something outside. She heard a grinding of metal. “It sounds like he’s opening a fence now. I think we’re going to drive inside. Hang on.”

She heard Blake’s footsteps returning. She hesitated again, wondering if he would let them out of the trunk, but he continued back to the driver’s door and got inside.

“He’s back in the car,” Serena whispered. “I don’t think we have much time “

“Can you keep the line open?”

“I’ll try. We’re tied up. I may be able to hold the phone without him seeing it.”

They were driving again. The Impala moved slowly, but the rocky ground caused the car to bump and jolt. Serena felt as if a prizefighter were delivering hammer blows to her kidneys. She heard Claire wince in pain beside her. They drove for less than a minute, and the car stopped.

“I think this is it. I have to go quiet now, Jonny. I don’t know what you’ll be able to hear. If he finds the phone, I’ll try to shout something before he shuts it off.”

“I’ll find you.”

The driver’s door opened, and Blake came around to the trunk. Serena heard a click as the lock unlatched. The trunk opened, and she felt as if she could breathe again. The hot air outside felt cool compared to the stifling interior. Wherever they were, it was barely lit, but Serena still squinted, her eyes adjusting to something other than complete darkness. She saw Blake’s outline above them. Behind him, stars in the night sky.