Page 71 of Her Final Hours
25
Thursday, March 22, 8:10 a.m.
Ray gasped. His heart pounded in his chest as he awoke in the darkness of his truck. The bitter cold seeped through his bones, and a shiver ran down his spine. Disoriented for a moment, he glanced down, his tired eyes widening as an empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s slipped from his stomach, rattling against the icy cab floor.
The realization hit him like a jolt of electricity – he’d overslept.
Panic surged through him, fueling his urgency to get up. He groaned, climbing out of his sleeping bag and crawling from the cab to the front seats where he had left his boots.
He felt a chill grasp his toes as he pulled them on.
Peering through the frosted glass, Ray’s gaze fell upon Maddie’s house, a haven that would soon transform into a scene of terror. The street lay eerily silent, a snowy blanket mufflingany signs of life. He coughed up phlegm, opened the door, and spat it into the deep snow. He dropped into the powder and coughed again, his breath forming a fog in the frigid air. The urge to urinate took hold, and he made his way around and pressed a trembling hand against the cold metal, seeking its support as he relieved himself. While taking a piss, he instinctively cast a glance toward her house again.
She hadn’t wanted him to get involved.
He’d offered to stay there, but she refused, not wanting to feel like a victim of the past. Like any good Sutherland, she thought she could handle whatever came her way with little help from others. It was pride, but that pride could get them killed.
Ray’s heart lurched in his chest as he looked away, then swiftly turned back. The curtains, once open, were now drawn.
Something was amiss.
Memories of the night before flooded his mind — the curtains had been open long after midnight, even as the lights went out inside. He was pretty sure of that.
Then he saw it, a trail, it was barely visible with the continual downfall, but it was there, nonetheless.
That’s when the dreadful puzzle fell into place.
Finishing his business, Ray squinted into the snowflakes cascading around him; his steps were hurried as he made his way toward the house and, with a glance off to his right, followed the faint imprints.
Every nerve in his body screamed danger.
He turned toward where the trail came from, following it just a little down the road.
There, amid the freshly fallen snow, he discovered Tommy’s unmistakable truck — an ominous sign of what lay ahead.
A shiver ran down his spine from the chilling cold and thesheer dread that gripped him. All of it disappeared into the backdrop of his mind as he rushed back to the truck, his hands trembling as he fumbled with his cell phone. The instinct to call for backup surged within him, but at the last second, he hung up, realizing the urgency of the situation and the thought that maybe that’s what Tommy wanted – to go back to prison, but not before he harmed Maddie.
Ray leaned into his truck and collected his service weapon. He checked the magazine, put another in his pocket, and made sure there was one in the chamber before he steeled himself for the fight ahead.
With resolve in his eyes, he trudged through the snow, his footsteps growing heavier with each step. Ray skirted around the house, his eyes scanning the surroundings, aware that the freshly fallen snow could have concealed vital clues had he not awoken when he did.
As he approached, the faint sound of muffled cries pierced the air, a chilling reminder of the torment this asshole was putting her through. Ray’s breath caught in his throat as he closed in on a lower window. Through the slight gap between the curtains, a haunting scene unfolded before him — Maddie bound to a chair, her voice stifled by a gag, and Jake Randall, her current boyfriend, her protector, his face battered and bloody.
Tommy, an evil presence, paced before them, a rubber mallet held tightly in his hand. The scene was a nightmare in living color. Ray’s determination surged, overpowering the fear of being harmed.
Knowing time was running out, he skirted around, moving like a shadow, his every movement careful and calculated. His hand reached out, gently testing the rear door, but it remained locked, denying entry. Frustration gnawed at his nerves, but he refused to succumb to it. He couldn’t use the front door eventhough he had a key — Tommy would hear the metal grind as the key entered, and the element of surprise would be lost.
Resolute, Ray turned his attention to the windows, his eyes desperately trying to make out the faint remnants of Tommy’s prints in the snow. He had to have gotten in somewhere. Of course, he thought as he saw the window marked by shallow tracks in the snow.That’s why you broke in. You were preparing. You bastard.Anger surged, his heart racing as he discovered the window slightly ajar.
A glimmer of hope broke through the dark moment. The broken lock was an invitation, a path to end this. Without hesitation, he lifted the latch, his movements as silent as the falling snow, and cautiously he slipped inside.
As muffled screams grew louder, he could hear Tommy berating her.
“You brought this upon yourself.Four years. I did four years inside for you, and this is how you repay me with this sonofabitch!” Tommy reared back the mallet and brought it down on Jake’s kneecap. His head went back, a cry searing the air.
“What’s that? Huh?” he said, getting close to Maddie and removing her gag.
“Stop, Tommy. Please. I’ll do anything. You want me back. I’m back.”
