The voices were clear now, though she couldn’t really follow what was being said—until she heard Gabe’s name.

“Far’s I’m concerned, McCord might as well be Barney Fife with one bullet in his gun,” a man said with a kind of hee-haw laugh. “This whole place is like that old TV show Mayberry R.F.D. He’s been lookin’ for us for years, his daddy too, but we keep movin’ the goods.”

“Who’s your daddy?” another male voice said. “If he ain’t the sheriff out chasin’ lost little chicks, he ain’t nothin’ around here.”

Tess’s stomach cramped. Could these voices belong to the kidnappers? Was that what they were mocking Gabe about? But what were they doing here? And why didn’t the girl or woman speak again? Had they gagged her, drugged her? Tess could almost picture that as if it was happening to her.

She edged in the door, sidling toward the staircase in case she had to hide. Then, on the stairs above her, she saw a small circle of light. Maybe there was a window into the kitchen, a vent perhaps.

Holding her breath, she tiptoed up a step, then another. In the kitchen, they were making so much noise they didn’t hear the stairs creak, and she had the waterfall and rain to thank for that too. The hole was where a vent must have come out into these narrow back stairs years ago, when there were wood fires in potbellied stoves.

Keeping her face as far back from the opening as she could, she peered into the kitchen. It looked as though they were cooking something on the counter and on a beat-up table. She saw no stove or refrigerator, but of course the appliances had been stripped out years ago. They were using a small generator that was making a low buzzing noise. No doubt the electricity in this place had been turned off when Marva left. These weren’t homeless people making dinner somewhere they could find shelter. They’d said Gabe had looked for them for years, and they knew about the kidnappings.

She glimpsed bottles, a big funnel, Pyrex-type dishes and a blender. She gasped. These people were mixing and cooking up meth. It could blow sky-high if something went wrong. A petite but tough-looking woman moved into view. Tess glimpsed two men; she heard a third.

“We oughta go to the one-pot method,” the girl said. She had dirty-looking hair pulled straight back in a long ponytail. “You know, shake-and-bake, toss the bottle out of the car when we’re done with it.”

“Too damn dangerous. You think this stuff can’t blow? One wrong shake of the bottle, a little air gets in and fireball.” The man clapped his hands together, and Tess jumped.

She had to get out of here. She’d call Gabe, but not about finding kidnappers. She was sure these people didn’t have the finesse, the smarts, to pull that off. But this old house, the sound of the falls, even the back stairs, seemed somehow familiar, and she’d have to tell Gabe that.

Holding her breath, she began to creep down the steps to get out the back door. She froze when a phone rang, but it wasn’t hers. She’d muted her ring, and that phone played “Dixie.” One of the men stepped into the mudroom to take the call, blocking her escape.

“Yo, Jonas. What? She thinks he might be coming here? Now? Okay, we’re outta here! Hey,” the man shouted to everyone as he went back into the kitchen, “leave it cookin’, grab what you can, ’cause we gotta go. Tip from Jonas that the law might be comin’. Chop, chop! Maybe this stuff will blow up in his face. I’m sick of him always being on our tails.”

The light source went off. Tess heard them run like rats off a ship as she huddled in the darkness on the stairs. At least Gabe was on his way. Terrified the stuff would explode, she counted to ten and tore out behind them right into the rough embrace of a big man.

“You want in on the action, honey?” he goaded, grabbing her arm and swinging her around toward him hard. He was the one who had taken the call. “You thinkin’ to turn us in?”

“Hank, come now!” the woman shouted, running back toward them. Someone was driving a car out of the old barn. The headlights slashed across them. He held Tess in such a crushing grip her feet dangled off the ground.

“Let’s take her with us,” he yelled, starting to drag her toward the car. “Who knows what she heard or saw? I saw her shadow on the stairs and figured she’d bail out right behind us. This has been so clean before, and I don’t want witnesses.”

“No, you’re not taking her!” the girl insisted, tugging at his arm.

“She can ID us!”

“Wait! I think I know who she is. That first one got taken by the Cold Creek kidnapper. Remember, Jonas told us about her.”

The man swore a string of oaths, then put Tess down and yanked one arm up behind her back. “Yeah, we don’t need in on that. Turn off them headlights, and I’ll be just a sec. Gimme that flashlight,” he shouted, grabbing a large one from the girl and turning it on. He checked Tess’s pockets, then ripped her backpack from her and flung it into the darkness. He half shoved, half carried her toward the house. “The place goes up, good riddance to her and the sheriff if he’s coming too,” he yelled back at the girl.

Tess struggled as the man named Hank forced her back inside. He shoved her to the floor and tied her with rope and netting they must have used to carry their gear in. Her hands were behind her back secured to a table leg with the cooker hissing over her head.

“Hard way to learn a lesson, honey,” he said. “Better say your prayers.”

He patted her head, got to his feet and ran. Tess heard the car roar past the house, the squeal of brakes as it turned onto the road. Then there was only the sound of the gurgling, steaming stuff on the table over her head, which blended with the muted rush of the distant waterfall.

23

Tess soon gave up struggling to get free. The rope and netting were so tight they cut into her wrists. She was scared to try to kneel under the table, then try to lift it with her shoulder or back to maneuver her ties off the table leg. She might tip it over, make it explode even faster than it would on its own. At least Gabe was coming, but if he did, she couldn’t let him be blown to bits too.

She could not believe her life could end with all her dreams and hopes up in flames. She would never know who had abducted her and ruined her life. Still, except for her father, she’d had a good family. No romantic love of her own, at least before Gabe gave her hope. And children—how she wanted children of her own.

Say your prayers, that horrible man had told her when he left. Would she be reunited with her mother in heaven? She wished she had called her father. She thought about Kate and Char. She loved them. She missed and needed them.

She tried sawing her wrist ties up and down against the edge of the table leg, but it would take hours to get free. She kept at it, however exhausted her shoulders and arms were, all the while picturing herself reading to her most recent class of preschoolers at the Sunshine and Smiles Center while they sat cross-legged on the floor and she used a low stool, so she could show them the pictures. Wouldn’t Miss Etta have been proud of her for that? Little Cristelle wasn’t paying attention, but her twin, Nanette, was. Those girls were as different as Tess, Kate and Char. Jacob and Ashley were really into the story of the pioneer boy’s life.

She was about to lose her life. Her mind almost went blank with fear, but she forced herself to remember happier times. Her little redheaded student Jacob’s name reminded her of hearing Jonas’s name in this room. Ann’s brother? Was he the one tipping off drug-cooking criminals that Gabe was coming? If so, was Ann his source of information? Would Gabe ever know what had happened to her? She should have told him that she cared deeply for him.

Tess was angry with herself for getting caught. The cooker over her head was rattling so fast and hard that it might explode at any time and her life too, just another girl gone.