Race Against Time. Christy Barritt

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СКАЧАТЬ the opposite and offered as little information about himself as possible before insisting he was in the middle of something so she’d go home. Her eyes had changed from friendly to perceptive and then annoyed as he’d closed the door. Good. It was better that way.

       As his feet hit the dusty road, rocks crunching beneath him, a sharp, high-pitched sound split the air.

       Brody slowed his pace and wiped the perspiration around his face with the bottom of his T-shirt. Was that a scream? Or was it the shrieking call of one of the marsh birds?

       He glanced at Madison’s house. Her car was in the driveway, but he didn’t see her anywhere. She must be inside, either chasing her toddler or doing some work. He couldn’t be positive, but his best guess was that the woman worked at home.

       His jog slowed to a walk, and he kept his ear attuned for any more sounds. Nothing. He must have imagined the earlier noise.

       He tried to be satisfied with that, but he wasn’t convinced. He was a detective. His finely trained instincts told him to stay on guard.

       Something crashed in the distance. The sound had definitely come from Madison’s house. His muscles tensed. He should go back to his house, get his gun. But everything in him screamed to get to her house, that time couldn’t be wasted.

       He ran across crunchy grass toward his neighbor’s brick ranch. His gaze scanned the house as he approached. Nothing appeared out of place. The closed shades made it impossible to see inside.

       He crept onto the wooden porch, grabbing a baseball bat left on a rocking chair. Slowly he twisted the brass handle of the front door.

       Locked.

       Something else crashed inside. A woman cried out.

       He pictured Madison’s pretty face and imagined the horrors that might be going on inside. Adrenaline surged in him. He backed up and, on the count of three, charged forward. His shoulder impacted with the door. Wood split, cracked, then crashed.

       The foyer stood before him. Dust and wood particles settled to the tile floor. Then an eerie quiet filled the space.

       “Hello? Anyone home?” Brody stepped over the door, his ears attuned for any telltale signs. Bat in hand, he peered around the corner into the hallway.

       A shadow passed by a door in the distance.

       Sucking in a deep breath, he braced himself for whatever was to come.

      * * *

       Blurry. Fuzzy. Jumbled.

       The drugs—whatever the masked man had injected into her—caused Madison’s thoughts to swirl. Fight it, Madison. Fight it. She couldn’t let herself fall into unconsciousness. The rope around her neck would choke her if she did. She had to resist the urge to close her eyes. Fight death. Fight for life.

       Her head bobbed forward and the rope dug into her neck. She jerked back. Gulped in a breath.

      Lord, give me strength.

       But her limbs felt like gelatin. The stool she stood on wobbled. The man who wanted her dead would return and finish his cruel game.

       A moan escaped her, the sound guttural, desperate.

       Her head fell forward again. She gagged. Pulled her head back. Gasped for air.

      Lincoln. She blinked, trying to find focus. She had to fight this for him. The boy couldn’t lose two parents before he reached the age of five. Tears pricked her eyes as her son’s sweet face flashed in her mind. She needed to be there for him, to comfort him when he got hurt, to tuck him into bed at night.

       Her tears made breathing hard. She couldn’t let herself fall into despair. She had to stay strong.

       But how long could she stand here? How long before the drugs kicked in and knocked her out completely? Was there any hope of surviving?

       Her eyes darted around the room. Where had the man gone? And had she heard a crash or imagined it? What was the madman planning next?

       Her head dipped. Her airway constricted.

       Not much longer.

       She jerked her head back, fighting to stay lucid. But tiredness closed in on her.

       A figure appeared in the doorway. Not again. What would her attacker do this time? She cried out, tried to back up. The rope tightened around her neck.

       “It’s just me.” The man rushed toward her.

       Madison blinked. Her neighbor? Or was this a hallucination? Maybe she’d already drifted into an unconscious state and the drugs were playing tricks on her mind.

       “Madison.” He muttered the word. His arms encircled her waist and raised her up. She gulped in breaths, thankful for relief.

       But her relief was short-lived. Her head whirled. Blackness closed in on her.

       “Don’t fade now. I’m going to get you down. Do you hear me?”

       She nodded, but it was already too late. Everything went dark.

      TWO

      The nightmare from Brody’s past flooded his mind, making nausea roil in his stomach. Horrifying images and intense emotions flashed through him, each one feeling like a sock in the gut. He blanched before pushing the thoughts away. No time to dwell on that now. If he didn’t act quickly a woman could die in his arms.

       His gaze searched the room. He had to find something to cut his neighbor down from the ceiling. But if he released her to search for a knife, she’d choke.

       His heart racing, he continued searching with his eyes, looking for something…anything.

       Nothing. Just some clothes on the dresser. A hair brush. Shoes. Pillows. Typical bedroom items.

      Think, Brody. Think.

       His muscles strained. The woman was a deadweight in his arms. She’d lost consciousness and it was only a matter of time before she lost her life.

       Adrenaline surged through him. Not again.

       He looked at the ceiling fan that held the rope and made a split-second decision. Still holding Madison with one arm, he grabbed the fan’s motor. Using all of his strength, he jerked down on the device.

       The ceiling cracked.

       He gripped the motor tighter and, yanking up his legs, let his weight do the rest of the job. The entire fan tumbled to the floor, himself and Madison with it. He didn’t bother to brush off the plaster that covered them. Instead he grabbed the rope around his neighbor’s neck. He pulled the noose until it widened enough to jerk it off. Then he went to work on the ties around her wrists.

       She lay limp in his arms. He did a quick examination. Red, raw skin surrounded her neck. Torn shirt. Bleeding forehead. But she was breathing. Thank goodness she was breathing.

       Any minute now an ambulance and the sheriff СКАЧАТЬ