“I want to add Dick’s direct line at the police station,” she said. “If anything goes wrong, you’ll have an emergency number to someone who knows what’s going on. It’ll be faster than trying to call 911 or anyone else.”

  She took more than a minute, but finally handed the phone back to me. I slipped it back in my pocket. We leaned into each other and hugged. “Thanks for helping me, Sam,” I said smiling at her. “I’m going to get Darby.” I wanted to cry, but I kept the smile on my face.

  “I know you are,” she said. “Be careful. I’ll call Dick as soon as I leave the park.”

  I stepped out of the car and stood watching as Samantha drove away. I was definitely alone, and there weren’t any cops in the area. Indiana Jones and Mrs. Ross would keep their word, too – I hoped.

  The flashlight on, I headed down the sloping path to the Smokey Bridge. It was a chilly evening. I was dressed warmly enough, but my nerves were so strained, I was shivering.

  This was a beautiful part of the city’s park system, and one I usually loved. Cheater Louie and I had walked this very path one summer night under a full moon. He was very sweet, and I was excited. I knew this was the night he was going to propose. It turned out he only wanted to do it outside in the moonlight on the bridge. Oh my gosh! Concentrate, Susan! Don’t start thinking about things that will make you crazy or put you on the path to thinking about Mick! Get Darby. Get Darby. Get Darby.

  I was almost to the bridge when I tripped on a rock, slipped on the wet path, and pitched face first into the still slightly muddy path. Crap! The flashlight went flying and turned off. It was too dark to look for it. I had mud on my hands and face. I wiped my face with the back of my hands and then moved to the damp grass to try to wipe them off. I ended up wiping them on my corduroys.

  The bridge was lit, and I could see it clearly. It was an older wooden bridge spanning a creek. The wood rails were just the right height to lean against and gaze into the clear water as it rippled by. I tried to walk more carefully.

  I stepped onto the bridge and walked to the middle. I looked around in all directions but didn’t see or hear anyone. I felt my pockets for the necklace, my phone, and my keys. Everything was still there; I hadn’t lost anything in the fall.

  I looked at my watch. 6:56. Samantha should have called Dick by now. Please, please, please, let these criminals be on time. My nerves were strained to the breaking point.

  I finally heard a noise at the end of the bridge from where I had entered. Oh my gosh! My heart started pounding so hard, I was sure it would burst from my body. I was instantly light-headed and in danger of passing out. It wasn’t Indiana Jones or Mrs. Ross. It was one of the thugs who had been in the shadows at the theater in New York. He was ugly, menacing, and he was pointing a gun at me!

  I couldn’t hold it back, I gasped. The man never said a word, but started moving toward me. I looked around frantically and turned to the other end of the bridge. I was going to run and hope the bullets missed me, but from the shadows, just like in New York, came the other man. He blocked the other end of the bridge, and he, too, had a gun pointed at me. I whimpered. There was no being brave now. There was nothing I could do.

  The man in front motioned for me to move off the bridge. I complied. He waved his gun for me to move off the park path and toward a field. Both men were behind me now. We only walked a few minutes, but it seemed like an hour. My mind was reeling. Would the police be in position when we left the area? Would there be a shootout? Was I going to die?

  We came to an area with heavy brush. I couldn’t see, but they seemed to know where they were going. They pushed me into the brush and through to an opening. A van was waiting. I whimpered again, and one of the men pushed me hard toward the waiting vehicle. I fell to my knees, but he grabbed me harder still by my arm and jerked me up.

  The other man opened the back of the van, forced me in, and shoved me hard. I fell against something soft. The doors slammed shut. They hadn’t spoken a word or asked for the necklace. Did they really want it? Were they going to take me somewhere and kill me?

  A tired voice came out of the darkness, “What took you so long?”

  I recognized the soft voice instantly. I had fallen against him. A sob caught in my throat. “Darby,” I cried.

  He leaned his head against me. I positioned myself beside him on the floor. I felt all around him and realized he was handcuffed to a bench seat. I leaned into him as close as I could and put my arms around him.

  “Don’t say too much, Susan,” he said whispering. “Do you have the necklace?”

  “Yes,” I whispered back.

  “Good. We’ll give it to them, and then we should be able to go,” he said softly.

  “Darby, you don’t really think they’re going to let us go do you?” I asked. “We can identify all of these people.”

  “But I think the F.B.I. already knows who they are,” he said. “I heard them talking about it. If that’s the case, they should let us go.”

  We were quiet. The van was still moving. Where could we possibly be going? Why hadn’t the police stopped us yet? The longer we were driving, the less likely there would be a roadblock. No one would know where we were.

  Darby seemed as though he could barely move. He seemed weak. They probably hadn’t given him any food and maybe no water. I did my best to hold onto him and put my head close to his.

  It had to be at least another twenty minutes before it felt as though the van turned off the main road and onto a gravel road. A few minutes later, the van stopped. The men got out, opened the back doors and motioned for me to get out. As I hopped down, one of the men grabbed my arm and jerked me to his side. I looked back at Darby. I didn’t want to leave him.

  One of the men jumped into the van and unlocked the handcuffs. He pushed Darby out of the van with such force, he fell to the ground. I moved to help him up, but the man beside me grabbed my arm and held me back. An airplane was coming in loud overhead. We were out by the airport. This was way too far out of the area for Samantha to have been successful with Dick and any roadblocks.

  It hit me hard. There were no police, and no one was coming to help us.

  Darby managed to get to his feet. We were forced at gunpoint to a nearby barn. There was an old farmhouse off in the distance, but it was dark and appeared deserted. A door at the side of the barn opened, and we were shoved through the doorway. An oil lamp on a small table provided the only light, but it was enough light to see who we were meeting in the barn – Indiana Jones, Mrs. Ross, and the man who had been staring at my chest at the theater. With the two thugs, the party was complete.

  I assumed the man who had been talking with Bernardo and staring at my chest was the leader of them all. He spoke first and asked, “Do you have the necklace?”

  I nodded my head. He motioned for Mrs. Ross to come to me. I didn’t want her to take my phone. I was holding out hope I would find a way to call Dick. I quickly slipped my hand into my pants pocket and pulled out the necklace still in the baggie. I held it out to her.

  The man motioned to the men with the guns, and they pushed me and Darby farther into the barn and up against a support beam running from the floor to the rafters. One of the men barked, “Sit down.”

  We sat. They were forceful as they pulled our arms behind us and used plastic tie wraps to secure our hands to the beam.

  There was a little chink in my shock, and I found my voice. I glared at the ringleader and said, “You won’t get away with this. The F.B.I. knows you murdered Bernardo. I heard you threaten him at the theater. They know who all of you are, they know about the necklace and the microchip, and they know what you’re doing. You can’t get away with this.”

  The man looked to Mrs. Ross. She walked over to me, leaned down, and slapped me hard across my face. I whimpered again, and my eyes stung with tears. Darby flinched but didn’t say anything.

  “You stupid bitch,” she snarled at me. “You were the cause of all of this. In fifteen minutes we’ll be on a plane out of the country, and there is nothin’ anyone can do about it. Did you really think we would let you go? You are by far the stupidest blonde I’ve ever seen.” She turned and walked away. Tears were streaming down my face, but I wasn’t making any noise.

  The ringleader looked at his watch and said to all of his cohorts, “Time to go. The plane is fueled and ready. Let’s go.” He nodded to one of the thugs and said, “You know what to do.”

  All of them walked through the door with the exception of the one thug. He smiled at us, picked up the oil lamp, and tossed it to the far side of the barn, breaking it on the floor and causing the oil to burn in a wide swath. The entire side of the barn was stacked with hay bales, and they quickly caught fire. The man laughed and walked out the door.

  The hay burned rapidly and lit up the entire room. A full-blown panic came over me. I wanted to survive. I looked at Darby and cried, “We have to get out of here! Try! Try as hard as you can to get your hands free!” We both struggled against the wraps, but soon realized it was useless.

  I was crying much harder now. “Darby, I’m so sorry. I blew this. I should have called Detective Bentley, but they told me they would kill you if they saw any police at all. I just wanted to give them the necklace and get you back.”

  “Susan, honey,” he said with sad, sincere eyes, “you know we aren’t going to get out of this. I want you to know I love you. You’re my best friend, and if I have to die now, I’m glad I’m with you.”

  “Darby don’t say that!” I sobbed.

  I looked around the room. The fire was much bigger now. Flames were shooting out of the roof and racing around the back of the barn. Heavier smoke was starting to roll our way. There was truly no way out, and there was no way I could reach my phone.

  “Darby, I love you, too,” I sobbed. “Thank you for being my friend and always taking such good care of me.” My life with Darby flashed before my eyes. It seemed like everything we had ever done together, all of the cooking, the traveling, the laughing, it all flashed right before my eyes. This is what they say happens to you before you die.

  The fire was loud, and I could feel the intense heat. The smoke was thick and surrounding us now. Darby was coughing. I tried not to breathe it in, but I had to cough. I couldn’t stop the tears, and my eyes were burning. Crying made it worse, but I couldn’t stop.

  Mick came to mind. I would never see Mick again. I would never be able to tell him how much I loved him and how happy he made me. I would never know what could have been between us. I was never going to have children. The regret was overwhelming. How I wished I had allowed him to make love to me. For crying out loud, it wasn’t like I was a virgin. What was wrong with me?

  Darby was nonresponsive and had stopped coughing. They say many fire victims die from the smoke before the flames. I simply couldn’t breathe any more, and I knew I was dying, too. When I saw the spaceman walking toward me through the haze, I wasn’t afraid anymore and gave in to it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  There were stars overhead. It was a clear October night, and the sky was beautiful. I was vaguely aware of other light, and I tried to raise my head.

  The spaceman, who I could see now was really a fireman, pushed me back down and told me to lie still.

  I could breathe. I took a deep breath and realized I had an oxygen mask on. I tried to look around. The strobe lights were a multitude of police and fire vehicles. The brightest light was the barn, fully engulfed in flames.

  Two firemen placed me on a stretcher and proceeded to carry me to an EMT truck. They stopped short of the truck. Detective Bentley came into my line of sight. I didn’t care. I felt nothing. I had messed up everything, and now Darby was dead. I didn’t care about anything.

  Detective Bentley spared no words. “Susan Hunter, that was a really stupid thing you did,” he lashed out at me. His anger was evident and plainly on display.

  That seemed to be the general consensus right now. I was stupid. I turned my head away from him.

  “You can thank your friend Samantha for saving your life,” he said.

  I turned my head back to him. That didn’t make any sense at all. Samantha obviously hadn’t talked to Dick in time to have roadblocks set up.

  Detective Bentley continued, “You two botched everything by taking this investigation into your own hands. Samantha was in a real bind when Dick wasn’t at the station but was out patrolling. She lost valuable time trying to get someone to understand what you two had done. The only thing that saved you was Samantha turning on the GPS in your phone. We could see your movement toward the airport, so we were able to move police cars into the area and surround the barn. We arrested the crew from New York and recovered the necklace, but we couldn’t enter a burning building. It took several minutes to get fire crews here from the airport. You’re only alive now because they were so close.”

  I turned my head away from him again. I didn’t want to hear anything more he had to say. I would thank Samantha later. I knew it had taken her a long time to put Dick’s direct line into my phone. Now I knew why; she had been activating my GPS.

  The firemen loaded me into the EMT truck. I was barely aware of the ride to the hospital. If the EMTs did anything to me, I was too numb to notice, and I didn’t care.

  As I was wheeled through the emergency room, Samantha rushed to my side. She was crying. Neither of us spoke to each other, but she squeezed my hand. I returned the squeeze. I quickly caught a glimpse of Larry, Husky, and Ron. Something caught my eye on the other side of the gurney. I turned my head. Mick was walking alongside. I looked at him, and for the first time since meeting him, I felt nothing. He was stopped at the emergency room doors by a nurse and wasn’t permitted to go any farther. He didn’t touch me, and I couldn’t gauge his emotions. He simply said, “I’m sorry.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  I slept hard that night. I had probably been given sedatives, and I had a hard time shaking them off in the morning. I was still in the hospital and had been moved to a private room. Ron was sleeping in a chair in the corner. A nurse came into the room.

  “I see you’re finally awake,” she said cheerfully. “Dr. Maxim said you can go home at any time when you feel like it. You might have some scratchiness in your throat, and your nose might feel dry for a while. He has a prescription here for you for a nose spray. You might not need it, but fill it anyway, just in case. Eye drops will help, too.”

  “Do I have to worry about any problems with my lungs?” I asked. I didn’t know what to expect.

  “No,” she said. “The detective who was in here last night told Dr. Maxim that because of the stacked hay bales, the fire burned upward and through the roof quickly. The opening in the roof allowed most of the smoke to escape. Your smoke inhalation was quite minor. Plus, there were no fumes from synthetic items like you find in an office building or a home, and that was on your side, too. You were very fortunate the firemen arrived before the flames reached you.” She handed a clipboard to me with papers to sign, and she showed me where my clothes were hanging.

  I glanced over at Ron. He was still sleeping. I took my clothes out of the small closet and sat down on the bed. I was surprised at how weak I felt. It had to be stress. I pulled on my corduroys. I took off the hospital gown and slipped my pink sweater over my head. My corduroys and the front of my sweater were filthy with dried mud and all of my clothing smelled like smoke. I hated putting them on again. I slipped into my Nikes and tied them. I was shocked to see the condition my jacket was in, but I had to wear it home. My apartment keys and my phone were still in the pocket.

  I walked over to the chair and nudged the still sleeping Ron. “Come on Prince Charming,” I said. “It’s your job to get me home safely.”

  Ron and I didn’t talk on the ride home. When he dropped me at my apartment, he reached over and grasped my hand. He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re ok, Susan,” he said. “We were really scared there for a while.”

  I gave him a dull smile. “Thanks, Ron.”

  He wanted to see me to my apartment, but I told him I could manage just fine, and I did. I trudged up the stairs, opened the door, and went right in to the kitchen. I put my keys and my phone on the counter and grabbed a garbage bag from under the sink. I stripped off everything I was wearing from top to bottom. I put everything in the garbage bag and tied it off. I opened the door to the apartment, reached out with the bag, and plopped it down beside the door. I didn’t want to look at or smell the clothes any longer. They could go to the cleaners on Monday. I went back to the kitchen and opened my phone. It was dead. I tossed it back on the counter.

  I was in a hot shower for at least forty-five minutes. I scrubbed and scrubbed until it hurt. I was washing off dirt, the smell of smoke, and regret. I sat on the floor of the bathtub and sobbed for the last twenty minutes of the shower. It wasn’t enough crying, but I simply couldn’t cry any more. I felt as though my world had been shattered.

  I took time to blow-dry my hair, and I looked myself over. My knees were bruised, and my palms still had slightly scabbed scratches. My cheek had a faint bruise from where Mrs. Ross had slapped me. Other than that, I simply looked tired, and my eyes were puffy from crying.

  I dressed only as far as a matching bra and panties set. I stood staring at my closet. I wasn’t going anywhere, and I didn’t want to put on any of my clothes. I grabbed a satiny, floor-length, mint green robe and tied it loosely at my waist.

  I padded in bare feet out to the living room with the intention of crashing on the sofa, but before I could sit down, there was a knock at the door. It was probably Detective Bentley. He was pretty mad at me and Samantha and had left word with the nurses at the hospital to tell me he would be by today to talk with me. I debated about not opening the door.

  The knock came again. I resigned myself to getting it over with. I pulled my robe tighter around me and opened the door.

  “Hi beautiful. How are you feeling?”