Fatal Burn (West Coast 2)

“What cabin?”

“The one where he kept me.” Her smoke-streaked face was tense. “If he didn’t take her there, then I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

Tires crunched on the driveway and Travis looked up to see a news van stopping not thirty feet away.

“Goddamned press,” the firefighter said.

“Do you know where the cabin is?” Travis asked his daughter and she shook her head.

“I don’t think I can find it.” She bit her lip, but she didn’t break down.

Travis, gently, though panic was rushing through him, said, “Tell us what you know about it.”

“It’s…it’s a long ways away, in the mountains. He locked me in a room with the windows boarded up,” she said as smoke continued to billow upward. “It was old and really, really crummy…uh, rustic. No electricity. No real plumbing. He, um, he made a fire every night and a train went by sometimes.” She looked up at Travis and her expression changed. Hardened. “I got away once and I followed deer trails, like you taught me. I headed downhill, always downhill and then I found the railroad tracks and started following them, you know, hoping that I’d come to a town or something.” Her eyes clouded over at the memory. “I should have gotten away. I almost did. But I came to a bridge and that’s where he caught me.”

Nate tensed. “What kind of bridge?” he asked quickly. “Can you be more specific?”

“A railroad bridge. I told you—”

“A trestle? Made of wood and beams, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “It went across a really deep canyon and…And not far away, there was another bridge that you could see, not for a train but one for cars and trucks.”

“I know where that is,” Nate said, glancing up at Travis. “It’s not that far. Ten, maybe twelve miles north of here.”

Travis was already moving toward his truck, ignoring a reporter stepping from the news van. “Let’s go.”

“We need a dog.” Nate whistled sharply, repeatedly. He turned to the firefighter. “Call Paterno, tell him everything you heard here, especially about the cabin. Tell him about the trestle bridge, the nearest town is Holcomb, I think, the closest landmark is Stinson Peak. There’s a road that runs parallel to that section of the railroad…It’s…hell…what is it?”

“Johnson Creek Road,” the firefighter supplied.

“Right.”

Nate nodded quickly as Atlas, the huge shepherd, bounded from the shadows. The big dog, despite the fire, made a beeline for Santana.

The firefighter was already reaching for her cell phone.

The flames were dying, but the air was still thick with wet ash and smoke. Travis said to Dani, “I assume he brought you here in a vehicle.”

“A truck,” she affirmed. “I got him, though.”

“Got him?” Travis said and her lips pursed.

“With a nail. I jammed it into his face. I tried to get his eyes but I don’t think I did.” She looked up at her father. Tears shimmered in her eyes, reflecting the gold flames of the dying fire. “I wanted to kill him…”

“It’s okay,” he said as she blinked. “You’re safe.”

“But she isn’t. He’s going to kill her, Dad. I know it.” Guilt riddled her expression.

With one arm he pulled her tight against him. “Not if I have anything to say about it. And it’s not your fault, Dani. None of this is your fault.”

“But if I didn’t go online, if I didn’t start searching for her, she would be safe. I wouldn’t have been kidnapped.”

“Don’t think like that. Okay? We’ve got to go after that son of a bitch.”

She nodded rapidly.

“Good. Now, can you tell me where he parked his truck?”