Nothing, nothing, nothing.... Time kept ticking by and still Shad didn’t see the name he was looking for. The sweat was beginning to soak through his shirt and his mouth was unquestionably getting dry. What if he never found it? What if he missed it?

And then there it was. Houseboat owner Drake Anderson lived in the next county south of where Monica lived.

Shad copied the address and switched to his favorite map program to locate how to get there. He did make a quick stop at a nearby convenience store to get a drink of tea and a bag of peanuts before Shad drove toward the residence with the car’s air conditioner on full blast.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Peace is a gift, but it does not come magically through our passivity. Only in our faithful response to God’s call do we receive God’s peace.

--Sandra Cronk

The house Shad sought out looked the way he expected, except there were no other houses nearby, which did surprise Shad a little. The light blue, frame structure was built up on pilings, which anybody who dared to live right next to a river as dynamic as the Osage would be wise to have. And as Shad approached the premises he noticed there was a white houseboat docked at a pier behind the house.

There were no vehicles parked in front, and a closed garage didn’t offer much suggestion if anybody was already here. Shad parked the car and shut off the engine. He picked up his cell phone and dialed the number to the Sheriff’s office. When the dispatcher picked up Shad gave his name and the address of his location, and then simply stated, “Send a patrol car out here if I don’t call back in five minutes. It’ll mean there’s been a disturbance.” Shad hung up.

His heart seemed to be pounding at its regular rate but with more effort than usual. The logical place to go would be the boat. Even if there was anybody at the house, talking might be useful only if the boat were empty. So Shad left the car and walked down beside the house and into the back yard.

His phone in the shorts pocket began to ring, and Shad quickly glanced at it to see the sheriff’s office was calling him back. Shad ignored the call and set his phone to silent.

A patio that sloped up to the house on one side led toward the large floating dock on the other side. At the end of the dock was moored the large, white, tiered boat. A ten-foot jon boat with a prop motor was tied to the other side of the dock. His heart still thumping, Shad stepped over to the patio and walked out on the dock.

The river was a little higher than it had been lately, the current swifter. Last night’s rain had been widespread, and it was possible the electric company had also released water from the dam upstream to keep everybody’s air conditioners running. These were not prime conditions for swimming. He stopped at the edge of the dock, looked back at the house, then hopped down onto the deck of the boat.

The vessel seemed well cared for although it did show signs of wear over the years. Shad stepped over to the entrance of the boat’s cabin and ducked his head inside. The interior had the ambience of twilight, and Shad scanned over the kitchen and dining area. There was nothing more than small cabinets around a tiny sink and a table set only with an empty, black bowl in its center.

Shad stepped inside and realized he was barely breathing because he was listening so intently. The murmur of the river was almost a distraction. The inside of the cabin was otherwise silent.

There was a small wooden door at the other end of the cabin which Shad figured led to the sleeping quarters. It took him only a few steps to reach it, but when Shad placed his hand on the knob to open it, he discovered it was locked. Shad placed an ear against the door, listened, but still didn’t hear anything.

Shad kept his voice clear and low. “Charissa?”

A muffled squeal erupted from the other side so immediately Shad almost jumped. He rattled the doorknob again, and then banged his shoulder against the door. The squealing continued unabated as Shad stepped back and kicked the door in.

Charissa was kneeling on a platform bed just inside the door. Duct tape was wrapped around her mouth and her hands were bound by thick cording behind her back. Her eyes widened as her squealing became louder.

“Charissa!” Shad strode to her and starting picking at a corner of the tape near her ear. The girl cringed as he tugged at it, but Shad realized what he was going to have to do. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t give Charissa time to wonder what he meant. Shad ripped off the tape with a swift pull.

“Ow!” Charissa winced and pulled away from him.

Shad started digging out the buffalo-horn handle pocket knife he always carried from his shorts pocket. “Everything’s gonna be all right. I’m gonna get you outta here.”

Charissa stared at him as Shad opened the pocket knife. “He lied to me!” She practically wailed.

“I know.” Shad grasped Charissa’s wrists and began cutting at the cords while taking care not to cut the girl. “But you’re gonna be all right now. I just need you to stay calm so we can get out to the car.”

“He said we were gonna see the boat.” Charissa whimpered. “And when we got here, he said he had a game for us to play. I thought the tape was funny but I didn’t like it when he tied me up. But I couldn’t even tell him to stop! And then he left me here!”

The rope snapped apart and Shad began pulling it loose. “Is that all? Did Vic do or say anything else?”

“He told me to be quiet or he’d go back and hurt Mom.”

Thank God he’d gotten here in time. Shad tossed the rope aside and grabbed Charissa’s right wrist.

“Why did he do this?” Charissa gasped. “Why?”

“Later. Right now we need to go.” Shad nearly pulled the girl off the bed.

He stepped through the splintered doorway first, but movement out on the deck caught the corner of Shad’s eye as he glanced back to be sure Charissa passed through without bumping into the mangled door frame.

Shad turned and saw Vic step to the doorway of the cabin. He had a pistol pointed at them.

Charissa yelped as soon as she saw Vic. Shad immediately pushed the girl back behind him, his left hand darting from her wrist to Charissa’s left shoulder.

“Don’t do this!” Shad barked.

Vic stared at Shad with what had to be shocked disbelief. “What are you doing here, Delaney?”

“Stopping you. You’d better not shoot. The sheriff’s been notified and he’s on the way.” Now would not be a good time to get killed. Charissa was nowhere near safety. “You don’t want to add murder to your charges.”

Vic continued to stare at him. He seemed to take a few seconds to think about what Shad said before tentatively shaking his head.

“It’s all because of you, Delaney. You’re the root of all my problems. Thanks to you I’ve got the cops looking for me, because every time I turn around, there you are. And now you’ve found me out here where nobody else would look.” Vic’s tone got gruffer. “Now how the hell did you do that?”

Shad could feel Charissa’s hands clenching his shirt at the small of his back. From his grip on her shoulder, Shad knew she was trembling.

“It’s a long story.” Shad hoped a little conversation would gain him some time so he could figure out how to get off the boat with both of them alive. “But I’ve got a few questions of my own. How involved is Drake Anderson in all this? Is he the one who took on the hit job?”

“Drake’s not even in town,” Vic growled. “So he had nothing to do with that bitch wife of yours who showed up shooting everything in sight.”

The derogatory term sparked anger in Shad, but he wasn’t sure if that was the most useful emotion right now. “So you’re borrowing the houseboat until he gets back?”