Page 51 of Chasing Justice
Maya extracted herself from Josh’s arms and went back to praising Juniper. She ran her fingers through Juniper’s coat, working to get herself together.
“He’ll be okay,” Josh said.
Maya wished she could believe him.
Chapter Thirty
Wayne woke up to his head pounding and darkness surrounding him. He was blindfolded. His shoulders ached. His hips ached. It didn’t help that he was tied up with his arms behind his back. Everything hurt from falling off Velvet.
Velvet. What had happened to her? She’d probably headed back to the barn and was okay. He hoped. Who had spooked her and then taken him? And why?Where the hell am I?
Wayne opened and closed his fingers, trying to loosen the knots on the rope around his wrists, but whoever tied him up did a damn fine job.
Good thing he always carried a small pocketknife in his front jeans pocket. Squirming around, Wayne worked to get his hands off to the right and into the pocket, hoping no one had taken the knife. He flopped around on the cold wooden floor that smelled of mouse urine and dust. He had to be in some old cabin or maybe a barn.
His fingers found the knife, but it clattered onto the floor.
“Shit,” he muttered.
He scooted over to the knife and grasped it in his fingers as footsteps approached. Wayne palmed the knife, trying to push it up a little bit into his sleeve. The door creaked open. He stayed still.
“You awake?”
A female voice. He thought he should recognize it, but he couldn’t quite place it. His throbbing head didn’t help. Wayne didn’t answer.
“I asked, are you awake?”
A boot came up and nudged him. Wayne stayed quiet.
“I know you’re pretending to be sleeping, but I heard you. And it’s pretty obvious you’ve moved.”
The person crossed the room. “I heard you move or drop something. Don’t get any ideas, Sheriff. You might live through this if you cooperate and stay useful.”
There was a snicker, the sound of footsteps leaving and the door closing. Wayne let out his breath. He started mentally going through his cases, past and present. Who would take him and why? How would he be useful as a hostage? If he could answer these questions, he might be able to negotiate his way out of this situation.
His head pounded and he lay back down on the floor, this time hearing a critter scurry away. Mouse? Maybe a pack rat? The presence of the rodents probably meant this place wasn’t occupied much. There was a good chance he was in a remote location, making it harder to find him.
He needed to focus on escaping. First he had to untie and free himself. Then he could figure out how to break out. Wayne let the knife slide back out of his shirt into his palm. The fun would be getting the knife open. He fumbled around, cussing under his breath until he felt what he thought was the correct attachment. Pulling and working it with his fingers, he flipped open the piece, only to run his fingers over it and realize it was the bottle opener. Why the hell did they have that on the knife? Okay, maybe he had used it to open a few beer bottles over the years, but right now that was not what he needed.
Sweat started pouring down his face. His fingers grazed the knife edge.
Dull.
Totally, completely dull. Damn it. Hadn’t he always lectured Maya about keeping blades sharp? Maybe he should take some of his own advice.
His throat tightened at the thought of Maya. If anything happened to him, she’d be all alone. If he got out of this alive, the first thing he’d tell her was how proud he was of her. Why had he never said that? He knew she’d been through tough battles, and yet he’d been so furious with her that he’d quit saying the important things.
He didn’t know why she’d come home after all the things he’d said. Or why she’d shown up the other day and been so good to him. Doug had tried to help mend their relationship, but Wayne had pushed him away too.
Doug had been there for Maya when no one else had. If only he’d been there for Doug like he should have. Based on what Doug had confided to Wayne, the explosion had to be tied to the Rays, but he had found no way to prove it.
Damn it, he needed to get out of here, if for no other reason than to say the things he should have.
Wayne sawed at the ropes, the dull blade barely making a dent. He concentrated and finally felt the blade slide through the first layer. Footsteps trudged outside the door, and Wayne paused, but they continued past.
He continued sawing, and after what felt like an eternity, the ropes released. He stretched, pins and needles running down his arms into his shoulders. He pulled off the blindfold and took in his surroundings. A dark room with log walls.
As his eyes adjusted, he realized the windows were boarded shut. That would make an escape route harder. He untied his ankles and stood. Stiff and sore, he ambled around, analyzing the cabin. His best bet out of here was picking the lock, but he didn’t know what was on the other side.
