Amish Country Murder. Mary Alford

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СКАЧАТЬ her bottom lip to hold back a scream. The hurt he’d inflicted on her the night before had threatened to break her. He’d enjoyed every bit of her pain. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of hearing her scream again.

      The steps leading to her torture chamber creaked. Each sound grated along her frayed nerves. She willed this to be a nightmare she would wake up from any minute.

      His loud breathing filled the room. Vague memories of a safer place crept in. Real? Imagined? She wasn’t sure, but she needed to believe it existed, because going there had helped her reclaim her name earlier. Catherine. She was Catherine.

      The shrill sound of a phone ringing came from upstairs. He snorted in anger, furious to have the fun postponed. She could feel his gaze boring into her.

      He never spoke. Not once since she’d woken last night to him standing over her had he said a single word to her.

      With a growl, he forced the blindfold back over her eyes. But not before she’d caught a glimpse of him. He was dressed in dark clothing, a ski mask covering his face. His eyes were dark and disturbing—filled with evil. They would haunt her forever.

      He trudged up the steps and slammed the door hard. Catherine listened carefully, almost certain he hadn’t locked it behind him.

      This was her chance. If she wanted to live, she had to break free of her restraints and escape before he returned.

      Catherine jerked the blindfold down. He’d tied the double knot around her ankle so tight it had rubbed her ankle raw. Her limbs were weak. She barely had the strength to grasp the first knot. She wanted to live. Wanted to see… Her memory would not fill in the blanks, but she was certain there were people out there who loved her.

      Tugging as hard as she could, Catherine worked on the first knot with her fettered hands. No matter how hard she tried, she could not free it.

      Tears stung her eyes. She scrubbed them away with anger. She would not give in to the helpless feeling. To him. Would not let him win.

      When she glanced around the dark room, her attention snagged on something near the stairs. The sliver of light coming from beneath the door above glinted on metal. The knife he’d used. It must have fallen from his pocket. If she could get it…

      She flattened herself on the floor and strained, yet the knife was still out of reach. Defeat hovered, urging her to give up and accept her fate, but she could not, because she wanted to live. She stretched her fingers as far as possible. Touched the knife. It slid farther away. The last bit of hope threatened to evaporate before she saw it—what appeared to be a piece of wood splintered from the banister. Close enough to touch.

      It took three tries before Catherine reached it. Holding it tightly, she thrust the splinter at the knife. After several attempts she was able to maneuver it close enough to grasp. The mere act depleted her waning energy.

      Clutching the knife awkwardly, she used her teeth to open the blade, then finally started sawing at the zip tie on her wrists. The knife slipped from her hand and she had to start again.

      Stuffing frustration down deep, Catherine kept her attention on cutting the zip tie. After several more tries, it snapped free. The rope around her ankle proved more difficult.

      The man’s angry voice filtered down from upstairs. “It’s my dog and my property. If you don’t like its barking, then perhaps you should move.” Something about his voice was familiar, but there was no time to consider how she might know him. She had to get away.

      She sawed harder. The rope frayed. Almost there… A few more rounds with the knife and she was free.

      Putting one foot in front of the other became an insurmountable effort. She crawled up the steps to the landing. Out of the dark recesses of her mind, the memory of the woman’s scream the night before came back to her. Was it real? She’d been blindfolded at the time. In and out of consciousness most of the day. There’d been no other indication someone else was here with her, so chances were it was just a hallucination. Still, Catherine couldn’t leave without knowing for certain. Clutching the banister, she pulled herself up and struggled back down the steps. Without turning on the light, she searched the shadows of the room. Nothing. Had she been wrong?

      In another part of the house, he was still arguing on the phone. Catherine made it back up to the basement door. Eased it open. A cluttered and grimy kitchen faced her. Stale food odors clung to the walls.

      The man’s voice came from her left, and the backdoor was straight in front of her. Just a few steps. Drawing in a breath, Catherine gathered her courage and slipped out of the basement prison, listening carefully. More angry words.

      Moving to the door, she slid the lock free as quietly as possible. It protested with a squeak. The man stopped arguing. He’d heard.

      With her heart in her throat, she ran, her bare feet sinking into the deep snow outside. Numbness set in quickly.

      Close by, something charged her, growling and barking. The dog. The gate appeared up ahead. She had to reach it before the beast took her down.

      Catherine fumbled with the latch, her fingers trembling. The animal leaped through the air, teeth bared and inches from her face. She could feel its hot breath on her cheek as it reached the end of its chain and fell backward with a yelp.

      Finally, she unlocked the gate. Free of the yard, she raced through the darkness. Dressed only in grimy jeans and a T-shirt, she shivered as the cold wind sliced through her weakened body and threatened to knock her down.

      Pitch blackness stretched beyond the lights of the house, shrouding what appeared to be a pasture. Behind her, a door crashed open. He was coming! Unable to draw enough air into her body, she fought panic and hopelessness as she stumbled across the uneven field.

      Thundering footsteps gained on her. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her bruised face. She would not give up. Could not go back to that prison.

      His heavy breathing warned that he was close.

      “Gott, please help me.” Catherine wasn’t sure if she’d said the words aloud, but she suddenly ran faster, the white silk scarf he’d knotted around her neck flapping behind her. The burst of energy could only have come from above.

      The cold burned her lungs. One big hand snatched her from behind. Another clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream. She fought him with all her waning strength, kicking out and clawing at the mask on his face, but it was useless. Something was jabbed into her neck. She wrestled to free herself, but soon the world blurred. Darkness closed in around her. Her last thought was that he’d won. He’d won.

      A rocking motion woke her. How long had she been unconscious and entombed in this tiny space? She felt around, touching metal above and beside her, and what felt like carpet beneath her. A car trunk. The jostling continued for a while before the vehicle came to a halt. His familiar footsteps approached. He’d taken her from her prison. Why? The only explanation…he was planning to kill her.

      No matter what, she would not die without putting up a fight.

      The trunk swung open, but she was ready for him, her feet in position. With all her strength, she kicked him in his midsection. He slumped over and Catherine clambered out of the car and ran.

      Up ahead, the noise of rushing water captured her attention. She ran toward the sound, and a bridge came into view, with lights beyond it. If she СКАЧАТЬ