Tess Gerritsen - Vanish

“No. Why?”

“I’ll keep calling around, then. Thanks.” He hung up and stood staring down at the phone. Thinking about that silence when Lukas had not immediately answered his question. Something is very wrong.

“Agent Dean?” said Glasser.

He turned and looked at her. “What do you know about Peter Lukas?”

The hole was now knee-deep.

Jane scooped up another spadeful of dirt and heaved it onto the growing mound of soil. Her tears had stopped, to be replaced by sweat. She worked in silence. The only sounds were the scraping of the shovel and the clatter of pebbles. Regina was quiet, too, as though she understood that there was no longer any point of making a fuss. That her fate, like that of her mother’s, had already been decided.

No it hasn’t. Goddammit, nothing has been decided.

Jane rammed the spade into stony soil, and though her back ached and her arms were quivering, she felt the heat of rage flood her muscles like the most potent of fuel. You won’t hurt my baby, she thought. I will rip off your head first. She heaved the soil onto the mound, her aches and fatigue unimportant now, her mind focused on what she had to do next. The killer was only a silhouette standing at the edge of the trees. Though she could not see his face, she knew he must be watching her. But she’d been digging for nearly an hour, her efforts stymied by the rocky soil, and his attention would be flagging. What resistance, after all, could an exhausted woman mount against an armed man? She had nothing working in her favor.

Only surprise. And a mother’s rage.

His first shot would be rushed. He’d go for the torso first, not the head. No matter what, just keep moving, she thought, keep charging. A bullet takes time to kill, and even a falling body has momentum.

She bent to scrape up another load of dirt, her spade deep in the hole’s shadow, hidden from the beam of his flashlight. He could not see her muscles tense, or her foot brace itself against the edge of the hole. He did not hear her intake of breath as her hands clamped around the shovel handle. She crouched, limbs coiled tight.

This is for you, my darling baby. All for you.

Lifting the spade into the air, she flung the soil at the man’s face. He stumbled backward, grunting in surprise, as she sprang out of the hole. As she charged headfirst, straight at his abdomen.

They both went down, branches snapping under the weight of their bodies. She lunged for his weapon, her hands closing around his wrist, and suddenly realized he was no longer holding it, that it had been knocked from his grasp when they’d fallen.

The gun. Find the gun!

She twisted away and clawed through underbrush, scrabbling for the weapon.

The blow knocked her sideways. She landed on her back, breathless from the impact. At first she felt no pain, only the numb shock that the battle was so quickly over. Her face began to sting, and then the real pain shrieked its way into her skull. She saw that he was standing above her, his head blotting out the stars. She heard Regina screaming, the final wails of her short life. Poor baby. You’ll never know how much I loved you.

“Get in the hole,” he said. “It’s deep enough now.”

“Not my baby,” she whispered. “She’s so small-”

“Get in, bitch.”

His kick thudded into her ribs and she rolled onto her side, unable to scream because it hurt so much just to breathe.

“Move,” he commanded.

Slowly she struggled to her knees and crawled to Regina. Felt something warm and wet trickling from her nose. Gathering the baby into her arms, she pressed her lips to soft wisps of hair and rocked back and forth, her blood dripping onto her baby’s head. Mommy has you. Mommy will never let you go.

“It’s time,” he said.

Gabriel stared into Jane’s parked Subaru, and his heart gave a sickening lurch. Her cell phone was on the dashboard, and the baby seat was buckled into the back. He turned, aiming his flashlight directly at Peter Lukas’s face.

“Where is she?”

Lukas’s gaze flitted to Barsanti and Glasser, who were standing a few feet away, watching the confrontation in silence.

“This is her car,” said Gabriel. “Where is she?”

Lukas raised his hand to shield his eyes against the glare of the flashlight. “She must have knocked on my door while I was in the shower. I didn’t even notice that her car was parked out here.”

“First she calls you, then she comes to your house. Why?”

“I don’t know-”

“Why?” Gabriel repeated.

“She’s your wife. Don’t you know?”

Gabriel went for the man’s throat so quickly that Lukas didn’t have time to react. He stumbled backward against Barsanti’s car, his head slamming onto the hood. Gasping for air, he clawed at Gabriel’s hands but could not free himself, could only flail helplessly, his back pinned against the car.

“Dean,” said Barsanti. “Dean!”

Gabriel released Lukas and backed away, breathing hard, trying not to give in to panic. But it was already there, gripping his throat as surely as he had gripped Lukas, who was now down on his knees, coughing and wheezing. Gabriel turned to the house. Ran up the steps and banged through the front door. Moving at a blur now, he ran from room to room, opening doors, checking closets. Only when he came back into the living room did he spot what he had missed on the first pass: Jane’s car keys, lying on the carpet behind the couch. He stared down at them, panic freezing into dread. You were in this house, he thought. You and Regina…

Distant gunshots made his head snap up.

He ran out of the house, onto the porch.

“It came from the woods,” said Barsanti.

They all froze at the crack of a third gunshot.

All at once, Gabriel was running, heedless of whipping branches and saplings as he plunged into the woods. His flashlight beam danced crazily across a forest floor strewn with dead leaves and fallen birches. Which way, which way? Was he going in the right direction?

A tangle of vines caught his ankle and he pitched forward, landing on his knees. He rose back to his feet, chest heaving, as he caught his breath.

“Jane?” he shouted. His voice broke, her name fading to a whisper. “Jane…”

Help me find you. Show me the way.

He stood listening, trees looming all around him like the bars of a prison. Beyond the beam of his flashlight was a night so thick it might be solid, unbreachable.

From the distance came the snap of a twig.

He spun around, but could see nothing beyond his flashlight’s glow. He shut off the light and stared, heart thudding, as he strained to make out anything at all in the darkness. Only then did he see the twinkling, so faint it might merely be fireflies dancing among the trees. Another snap of a twig. The light was moving in his direction.

He drew his weapon. Held it pointed toward the ground as he watched the light grow brighter. He could not see who was wielding the other flashlight, but he could hear the approaching footfalls, the rustle of leaves, only a few yards away now.

He raised his weapon. Switched on the flashlight.

Caught in the beam of Gabriel’s light, the figure shrank like a terrified animal, eyes squinting against the glare. He stared at the pale face, the spiky red hair. Just a girl, he thought. Just a scared, skinny girl.

“Mila?” he said.

Then he saw the other figure emerge from the shadows right behind the girl. Even before he saw her face, he recognized the walk, the silhouette of unruly curls.

He dropped the flashlight and ran toward his wife and daughter, arms already open and hungry to hold them. She leaned against him, shaking, her arms wrapped around Regina, just as his arms were wrapped around her. A hug within a hug, their whole family contained in the universe of his embrace.