Not for Sale Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Not for Sale

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  A word about the author…

  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  She cut through the cemetery.

  It was dark. She could hear someone following close behind her as she wove through the headstones. “Wait up, Jessie.” Dylan’s voice startled her. “I’ll take it from here.”

  “You can come if you want. Hurry, I know where he is.” She picked up her pace. “If you’re coming, you’d better keep up.” She ran along the trees at the back of the church, remembering that night where she had run not so long ago. Slowing down, she tried to feel her way. That darn tree root was somewhere around there. Closing in on where she thought the gunman was, she got down on the ground and crawled quietly toward the ledge. Matted wet leaves, soggy grass, and mud muffled the sound of her progress. When she came to the ledge, she carefully peeked over the edge. There he was, the snake, stretched out on the ground ready to strike. A dark figure clothed in black, just sliding another magazine into his semi-automatic. She could barely make him out. He had shot out the light in the church parking lot. She slipped her gun out of her holster and took aim, and felt Dylan grab her foot to let her know he was there. Good she had back up.

  “If you pull that trigger one more time, mister, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” She kept the gun sighted between his shoulder blades. Startled, he yanked his head around toward her voice, his night goggles making him look like a sci-fi character in the shadows. He started to reach for his gun, and she aimed a hair to the right. The warning shot scuffed the leaves six inches from his arm.

  Not for Sale

  by

  Iona Morrison

  A Blue Cove Mystery

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Not for Sale

  COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Iona Morrison

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Fantasy Rose Edition, 2015

  Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0155-6

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0156-3

  A Blue Cove Mystery

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  Dedicated to the great handlers and dogs

  at Bloodhound Man-Trackers

  under the Elbert County Sheriff’s Office.

  A special thanks to Frank Hurst,

  whose bloodhounds Red (R.I.P.) and Radar

  I personally got to watch do a track.

  They are amazing dogs.

  Chapter 1

  Hunched over with arms folded, the young girl whispered into the darkness. “I want to go home, God, please I want to go home. I promise to be good. Please help me.” Her small body shuddered as she sobbed. Her tears mixed with the dirt on her cheeks, making muddy smudges.

  She had heard once if you tried hard and thought about something long enough you could send your thoughts to someone else. She closed her eyes. Would anyone even listen? She had to try. It was her only hope.

  Cradling her small chin into her folded arms, she tried with all her might to concentrate her thoughts. “I need your help. Can you hear me? Please, I need your help,” she whimpered the words repeatedly.

  “I can hear you. What’s your name?” a voice in the distance called out to her.

  Someone heard her! “My name is Abigail. Please find me! If they discover I’m not with the others, they will come back for me.” The words tumbled out.

  “Where are you? I can barely see or hear you. You’re fading. Oh no, Abigail, don’t leave yet. I need to know where you are and how to find you.”

  ****

  Jessie sat up in a cold sweat; she could recall with detail Abigail’s small face and hear her desperate cry for help. Was it a vision, a hallucination, or what? It wasn’t a dream; she was awake. Seeing the girl reminded her of when she had first encountered Gina several months ago. Another ghost? No, this girl was alive. She was convinced. Troubled by the surreal feeling she turned on the bedside lamp and glanced around the room. Nothing was out of place, but it felt different. She waited and listened for Abigail’s voice to come again. There was only silence. Little by little, her tense body relaxed, her head dropped back against the pillow, and her eyes closed. The vision took her by surprise. Vivid details played like a movie in her mind bringing to life one little girl.

  She woke up on a dirty old mattress, with several pairs of eyes staring down at her.

  “She looks like a little mouse.” One of the kids spoke up.

  “That’s what we’ll call her, mouse,” the tallest boy in the group added.

  “Hey, little mouse, don’t cry. It only makes them mad. The big man will start hitting you. They won’t feed you either.” The young girl with dirty blonde hair held her hand over Abigail’s mouth. “Shush, you don’t want him to hear you. He’s a mean one.”

  “Where am I?” She gulped for breath as a shudder racked her small body.

  “Hell!” the tall boy said and the others nodded their heads in agreement.

  In no time, she had learned why the tall boy had called it hell. Scary, like a big hairy monster, the big man’s eyes bulged when he yelled. His face turned red all over. She thought he might explode, but he never did. His big fist hit the closest thing next to him. She tried to stay out of its reach. He often thumped her on the back of her head if she didn’t move fast enough. It hurt. She lifted her hand and rubbed the spot.

  Every day, and sometimes at night, they were forced into and out of the vans. With no windows and no seats, they were tossed around, hitting each other. Were they close or far away from home? Were they just going in circles? She didn’t know. She had to find a way home.

  She had stumbled upon her hiding space quite by accident a few nights before. Wide-awake, she rubbed her face. Lily had given her a hard whack when she had rolled over. Peering in the darkness, Abigail could hear the man. He was making all sorts of racket. She search
ed the dark room until she found him sitting in a chair propped in front of the only way out. Sawing logs is what her grandma called it when Grandpa snored.

  Being careful not to awaken him or step on the other kids, she crept along the floor. She moved slowly, making her way into a small alcove off the main room. Feeling along the wall, she felt a barely visible gap in the wallboards. She pulled the boards away from the wall. She felt all around the inside. There was a small space just big enough for her to fit in. She tried it to make sure. She fit! A perfect hiding spot, she thought. They would never look for her there. She crawled back to her place beside Lily and lay down. Abigail smiled. Armed with her special secret, all she had to do was wait for the right moment.

  The right moment presented itself. It happened that morning when the kids made their way to the vans with only one man watching them. He was on his phone and distracted. The other two were working on the engine of the first van. Some of the kids started fighting, which made the perfect diversion. She slipped away to her space, praying no one would notice. God must have heard her prayer.

  Squeezing into the small space, she tried to get comfortable. Her body touched the rough walls and cramped space. Tears filled her eyes. What was that noise? Someone was coming. She held her breath and tried not to move at all. Heavy footsteps thumped closer until he was there in the alcove on the other side of the wall. He was so close she could see his shoes. The only sound was that of her heart pounding in her ears.

  “All clear…Let’s move these little brats out of here and get our money.” Abigail recognized his voice. It was the man with the big hands. They called him the Enforcer.

  When the door finally closed, she let her breath rush out but remained hidden. She refused to let herself think about the icky things living behind those walls. There were cobwebs tangled in her hair. How long had she remained there? She didn’t know. She waited and waited until it was dark. Cautiously, Abigail crawled out of her hiding place, unfolding her small body from its cramped space. She strained to hear the slightest sound. Working one stiff muscle and then another, she stood up. They were gone, and she was alone.

  Thinking about her secret spot now made her skin crawl. Her stomach gurgled, reminding her it had been a while since she had last eaten. Anything would taste good right now. She made a guessing game out of what would be her first meal when she got home. Maybe Mom would order pizza from Angelo’s, or Dad might make his great hamburgers with fries. The thought of her dad brought tears to her eyes. She wiped them on the sleeve of her dirty shirt, a determined look on her face. She would get home.

  She sighed and whispered, “I did it. I found a way.”

  Suddenly the vision was over and Jessie heard Abigail’s voice again.

  “It’s so dark and cold. I’m afraid they’ll come back for me. I want to go home.”

  “Abigail, you’re very brave,” Jessie murmured, her eyes strained to see her. “Where are you?”

  “I don’t know, but I know you can find me. Please try. Please look for me.”

  “I’ll look for you, but you must help me.” Jessie found it hard to believe any of what she had just seen was real. She needed to call Matt. “Hang on, Abigail. I’ll do everything I can to find you. I promise. Keep talking to me, and I’ll listen for you.”

  ****

  Jessie’s alarm woke her. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she rolled over and reached for her phone as she sat up in bed. She was surprised to get Matt himself on the phone and not his voice mail. At least she knew someone in the police department who would take this story seriously!

  “Matt, this is Jessie. I’m sorry to call you so early. Do you have time to see me at the station for a few minutes before work?”

  “Long time, no see—does this mean you’re through ignoring me?” His tone suggested he was grinning. “Will eight thirty work for you?”

  “Fine, I’ll be there.” Irritated, she hung up without saying goodbye.

  She reminded herself not to let him push her buttons. Her feelings for him, she frowned, were all over the place. She opted for distance rather than face her reaction to him. This was about Abigail, and Matt would know if there were any missing girls in the area. They needed to find her. Jessie sighed. The odds were against it. With no general location or no idea where to start searching, what were her chances? Honestly, she could be anywhere.

  Jessie got dressed, ate a bowl of cereal, and proceeded out the door. She honked and waved as she drove past the Inn on the way out to the main highway, her morning ritual since she had moved here. Katie probably wouldn’t be at the window to wave back yet. A glance at her watch told her there wasn’t enough time to stop at Java Joe’s for a cup of coffee. She’d catch it later.

  She could feel the change of seasons in the air. The mornings were cooler and the trees, once clothed with green leaves, were beginning to show touches of fall’s glorious colors. Blue Cove’s last summer concert had taken place a few weeks back on Labor Day. The kids were back in school. They would have to work hard to find Abigail before the weather or hunger made it impossible for her to survive.

  A few things had changed since the first case she had worked on with Matt Parker. Had it only been a few months ago? She smiled and shook her head, so many changes. She was in the process of negotiating to buy the Cove Bookstore, which had kept her busy the last few weeks. She had several conversations with the owner of Java Joe’s about opening a door between the two businesses, which would be profitable for both of them. Jumping into the negotiating process was just what she had needed after the nightmare she had lived through. Keeping busy was a good way to avoid dealing with her feelings for Matt.

  He was correct in his assumption; she had tried her best to ignore him. She would have to work through her own embarrassment and ask for his help with Abigail. Better now rather than later, she thought. Molly, the forever-cheerful manager at Joe’s, had told her Matt would be her partner at the wedding; it was time for her to face the music.

  She walked into the station and found Gary sitting at the front desk. “Hey, sunshine, what are you doing here?” He grinned at her.

  “Where’s Mr. C?” She glanced over his shoulder down the hall. “Is Joe’s little girl still keeping him up nights?”

  Gary nodded and grinned. “He’s on tonight, and the new kid isn’t here until nine. I guess that leaves little old me. What’s up?”

  “I have an eight thirty with Matt.” She pulled a small notebook out of her purse.

  “Have a seat. I’ll let him know you’re here.” He picked up the phone, pushed Matt’s line, and then hung up. “His line is busy. I’ll be right back.”

  She sat down, crossed her ankles, and waited the few minutes it took Gary to get back. Jessie used the time to jot down some questions she needed to ask Matt. She also wrote herself a reminder to talk to Reba about the vision. Reba, with her sparkling brown eyes and proper manners, had so much more experience in the bizarre than she had.

  The last time she had been with Matt was a few weeks ago. She had given in to a crazy impulse, which was so unlike her. One incredible evening, she exhaled, shaking her head. She started running the minute he had started talking about meeting his parents and family.

  “Hey, Jessie, Matt will see you now. It’s the big office at the end of the hall.”

  “Thanks, Gary.” Walking toward Matt’s new office, she felt the familiar heat building along her neck and face. “Get over it!” She stood tall, lifting her head. “You don’t want to give him any advantage.” She knocked on his open door.

  His gaze was intense. “It’s been a few weeks, Jess. How are you?” A flicker of amusement lit his eyes. He watched her walk through the door.

  “I’m doing well, but I’m not here about myself. I needed to ask you some questions, if you have the time.” She sat on the edge of the chair in front of his desk.

  “Ask away. I’m all yours for the next few minutes.” He smiled, placing his arms on the desk, and waited for her to beg
in.

  She folded her hands in her lap, holding them tight. She didn’t want to give way to the desire to slap the grin off his face. “I’m not sure where to start,” her soft voice began. “Last night I had an experience. A young girl was calling out for help, and I heard her. I know it sounds strange, but we talked back and forth. I asked for her name, and she told me it was Abigail. I saw what had happened in her life for a few days, which I’m still trying to process. I guess my question is do you know of a missing child named Abigail? I’d say she was twelve or maybe a little older.” She opened her notebook and checked off the first question.

  “I do remember an Abigail.” Matt stood up and walked out of his office. “I’ll be right back,” he called over his shoulder. When he returned he was carrying a large book. He opened it and flipped through the pages, then pushed it toward her.

  “That’s her!” Jessie bolted upright in her chair. “Abigail Davis.” She stared at the small girl with dark hair and brown eyes. “She was abducted from Blue Cove?”

  Matt nodded. “It’s an ongoing investigation. She was playing volleyball with her friends on the beach. They described it as one minute she was running after the ball and then she was gone. It was as if she disappeared into thin air. What are you thinking?” He lifted his brows, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  “I don’t know how, but I saw that volleyball game. She was chasing the ball toward a group of men. They’re the ones who kidnapped her. One of the men she described as being big with large hands.” She looked again at the photo of Abigail. “I believe she’s alive somewhere, but there’s not a lot of time. We have a small window in which to find her. She’s cold, hungry, and worried they’ll come back to get her.” Jessie met Matt’s skeptical stare. “She can’t tell me where she is, not even a general location.”

  “How are we going to find her, if we don’t know where to begin looking?” One brow lifted in challenge.

  “I’ve asked myself that same question. I’m new to all this.” She shook her head. “As with our first case, I didn’t look for Gina, she came to me, and now Abigail has come to me for some reason. I’m going to keep listening for her. I believe, in time, she may be able to remember something to help us, but she’s too afraid right now.” She studied the picture of Abigail and took notes. “Her nickname is Abby just like Joe Collin’s baby girl. She’s almost thirteen. Her birthday is a few weeks away. With any luck we’ll find her, and she’ll be home to celebrate it.”