Page 51 of Valor

BADLANDS ESCAPE

Kari Trumbo

CHAPTERONE

Heather Sundin slowedher car to a crawl as she approached the house she shared with her father. He was supposed to have been out on a photo shoot, but his rusty pickup sat in the driveway and an unfamiliar sedan sat parked half inside the garage, blocking his truck.

Apprehension skittered up her arms to her neck. Who was at her house and why was her father still home? Dad was punctual to a fault and rigid in his ideas of right and wrong. He would never miss an appointment with a client. She parked her car in the street instead of her usual spot next to Dad’s truck. Nothing else seemed out of place, but the way the car was parked seemed completely odd. Someone sitting inside the car turned to look at her.

They weren’t familiar. As soon as he saw her, he put a phone up to his ear. In the next instant, shots broke out inside and she dove for cover behind a nearby bush. Her heart raced as she covered her head. Was Dad in there? Were they shooting at him or her? She crawled to the opposite end of the bush as gravel crushed into her palms. Two men shoved her father into the back seat of the car, his hands zip-tied behind his back.

“Where is she?” a man with a gun pointed in the air yelled at the man in the car. He wore a dark suit with sunglasses, despite the cloudy conditions and chilly late-September air.

“Dove into the bushes. I’ll wait,” said the man in the car.

He turned and strode in her direction. She hunted for somewhere she could hide. Oliver Thornquist, the elderly neighbor her father often argued with, had left his garage door open. If she could dash inside and close the door quickly, the protection might be enough to stop the man from coming after her. Plus, Oliver was a recluse who never left home.

She pushed against the ground, losing her footing in the gravel surrounding the bush. The man took chase behind her, his heavy footfalls picking up speed from less than twenty yards away. A shot blast startled her. When she didn’t feel pain, she silently thanked God and raced for the open bay just ahead.

He came faster, but didn’t shoot again. Either he was a poor aim, or he wanted her alive for now. She would be an easy target if he took a few more shots. Heather slid to a stop in front of the control panel just inside the garage and pressed the button to close the door, wildly pressing it over and over, chanting, “Come on, close!” Thank God for neighbors.

The door slowly lumbered down, and the man dove to get underneath. His arms were temporarily trapped. The pushback engaged the safety mechanism, making the motor reverse and head back up.

“No, no, no!” she yelled at it as he swiped for her feet.

She stomped on his closest hand, grinding the heel of her tennis shoes into his palm. He screamed, and she pushed in the button once again, then released him. The last thing she wanted was for him to be trapped there. If he could get his gun hand under the door, she was a goner.

When the door almost reached his hand again, she took a chance and kicked his fingers, forcing him back so the door could close all the way. In the next instant, bullets penetrated the thin metal of the garage door, sharp gouges with light appeared scattered over one section. She screamed and raced for the door to Oliver’s house in the dark garage.

Oliver slammed open the door to his house, holding his trusty 12 gauge. “Get inside!” he yelled as he loaded the gun.

She didn’t question him, hoping the old man didn’t hurt himself by offering to help her. She hid behind the nearest couch, her whole body shaking as the explosive concussion of Oliver’s gun silenced everything. Was she unable to hear anymore or had the kidnapper run away?

“Blast, he got away.” Oliver closed his door and grumbled, “I wanted to replace that old door anyway. You okay?” He tentatively looked over the back of the sofa down at her.

“I think so.” She looked herself over. “But Dad isn’t. They took him. Why would someone take Dad?” Her chest tightened. She didn’t want to cry, but he was all she had in this world now that Mom was gone. What if they kill him? “I’ve got to get him back.”

Oliver reached out a hand to help her up. “Not likely. You should go to the sheriff. I know your dad doesn’t like him, but you need his help. I’ve got to file a report with him either way since they shot up my garage.” Oliver headed for the phone.

Dad had been clear that he’d rather see an antelope elected sheriff over Allen Pendleton. While he’d never shared what his secret beef with the now-sheriff was, she still hesitated to trust the man. Why would her father distrust him if he hadn’t earned it?

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll tell one of his deputies.” She clutched her middle, feeling slightly silly about calling two officers to the same location. Still, Dad wouldn’t want Allen looking for him.

Sickness roiled in her stomach at the thought of what might be waiting for her. What would she find at home? Would the place be destroyed? Would there be clues as to why someone had taken her dad? Had they meant to take him, or had they been such poor shots because they werereallyafter her?

She shook the thought from her head. Why would anyone be after her? She did nothing out of the ordinary and didn’t know anyone of consequence. Then again, neither did her father.

Oliver picked up the yellowed phone with a cord that could probably reach from one end of his house to the other and snorted. “You tell who you want. I want the head guy when I get shot at.” He dialed, the phone making strange clicking noises as it returned to its resting position. She hadn’t even realized rotary phones would still work.

“Marlys? Yeah, you don’t need to run through all that technical stuff with me. This is Oliver Thornquist. We’ve had a shooting over on Elm Street.”

Heather couldn’t even laugh at the way Oliver talked to the dispatcher, since they’d all gone to church together for as long as Heather could remember. She even knew Marlys’s favorite food when everyone brought in dishes for potluck.

Oliver hung up the phone and headed for the sofa. “I didn’t want to wait on the line until the sheriff arrived. I’m too busy for that.” He grabbed his gun from where he’d rested it against the sofa and stowed it behind a door. He then headed for the wide front window and peered outside. “I wish I’d noticed something was going on. I’d have come out or called the police sooner. The car wasn’t familiar to me. Did you recognize it?” He glanced over his shoulder at her.

Heather closed her eyes. “I didn’t recognize any of them. The car was a silver sedan. High end, but I don’t know what kind.” It had been the type she saw sitting in parking lots of people who made lots of money. “I didn’t recognize it or the man inside. I definitely didn’t know the man who came after me.”

Oliver turned to face her. “Why do you think that was? Do you have any enemies? Does your dad?”

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