The River Rolls On (Bellingwood Book 10) (2 page)

And where were the rest of her clothes? She was dressed only in her panties and bra, everything else was gone. Rain was still pouring down outside, but today was supposed to get up into the mid-sixties. She'd live through cold rain if necessary.

With the buckle in her right hand, Polly gently turned the door knob, praying she could be absolutely silent. Fortune was on her side and the door didn't squeak. She stepped into a darkened hallway and held her breath, listening for sounds and movement. There was nothing.

She tiptoed down the hall and peeked around a corner into the living room, not at all surprised to see that it was filthy. Pizza boxes and empty food containers, beer and soda bottles littered every flat surface.

Desperate to find her clothes, Polly considered going back and checking the two rooms she'd passed in the hall, but worried that if someone was sleeping in one of them, her escape would be over. There had to be something here. A pair of men's boots sat beside the front door. At least those would give her protection on the ground. She grabbed them up and took one last look, then ducked into the kitchen and looked through the cupboards. There. Black trash bags. That would be enough. She pulled three of them out of the box and rather than open the front door, gently turned the handle on the kitchen door. It led out onto a rickety stoop and stairs. If anyone was in the house, they would certainly hear her on that.

The only solution was to step toward the outside of the stoop. She placed a foot down and slowly lowered her weight, then did the same with the other foot, moving forward. Looking around, Polly saw trees and grass. She had to find a road, but out here, the first person she saw on that road could be her kidnappers.

"Okay," she thought silently. "Everything in Iowa is on a mile long grid. All I have to do is walk a mile and I'll find a road. I can do that. Even if I have to walk two miles. I can still do that."

She ran for the tree line, swearing and cursing as her feet hit every rock and tree root. As soon as she felt that she had some protection from the house, Polly stopped to put on the boots. Her feet were bleeding and a gash on the ball of her left foot hurt like hell. The boots were much too big, so she stuffed a trash bag into each of the toes and pulled them on, then laced them up. It was uncomfortable, but at least she could travel without further cutting herself to pieces.

She ripped a hole in the bottom of the last trash bag and drew it over her head, poking her arms through holes she ripped in the sides and feeling much better at not being quite so exposed. Polly looked down at herself. This was better by far than the feeling of helplessness she'd had while strapped to that bed. She still had no idea who had kidnapped her or why they'd done it, but they'd screwed with the wrong woman today.

Running through the trees, Polly hesitated when she heard a vehicle pull in at the trailer. She only had moments before someone would look for her. She took off at a dead run, stopping at a creek separating the trees from an empty field. Farmers were just starting to plant crops and what she needed to find was someone out here with his tractor. She scrambled down the bank and decided to run through the water, hoping to throw them off. The creek turned back on itself several times and she came to a spot where the bank wasn't quite so steep. She grabbed a root sticking out and pulled herself up, then sat to catch her breath.

She needed to keep going straight, not zig zag through a creek. There had to be a road. There had to be a farmer's house. How long was this going to take?

A sound from where she'd run from spurred her into action and Polly took off, dashing for another copse of trees. This ran along the creek for a distance as the bank got steeper and steeper. Polly finally came up to a fence line and stopped for another breath. The fence would lead somewhere. She climbed through the barbed wire to the other side and then took off running along the fence.

It seemed to take forever before Polly saw a house above a rise. Silos and barns filled the horizon as she continued to run. Tears began again. Salvation was just ahead. All she had to do was get there. Her calves and thighs burned with exertion and her side was beginning to ache. Now that she had found civilization, everything that had happened to her filled her mind and she slowed to a walk, crossing the field one step at a time.

When she reached the fence, Polly ducked through it and wanted nothing more than to collapse, but kept going until she reached the house. She looked for vehicles to give her a clue as to which door she should approach, but there weren't any there. A blue pickup truck was parked in front of one of the barns, but that didn't help.

Back door it was. The way she was dressed, she wouldn't want to walk across anyone's living room floor anyway. She shook her head. After what she'd been through and she was worried about a farm wife's living room?

Polly climbed up the steps and looked for a doorbell. Finding none, she rapped at the door.

"Hello?" she called out. "Is anyone here? Hello?"

She waited and when she realized that no one was coming to help her, sank down on the steps and put her head in her hands. Where were they?

"Can I help you?" A man in a ball cap and denim jacket came around the corner of the house. He took one look at Polly and backed up, then stepped forward again.

Polly stood, "Please help me. I was kidnapped. Can you call Sheriff Merritt?"

"Uh. Okay." He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. "Do you have his number?"

Polly thought about it. She had no idea. He was a preprogrammed number in her cell phone.

"Just call 9-1-1. Tell them I'm here and I need Sheriff Merritt. We’re in Boone County, right?"

He nodded and pressed the digits on his phone and waited.

"Who are you?" he asked her.

"Polly Giller."

He relayed the information to the 9-1-1 operator and then looked at Polly in surprise. "
That
Polly Giller?"

She nodded and dropped her head back down into her hands.

"Let's get you inside," he said after hanging up. "They'll be here soon, but you don't need to be sitting outside dressed in whatever that is."

He slipped past her and opened the back door. "I'm sorry Marian isn't here. She's shopping in Ames today." He waited for Polly to come inside and then took her into the kitchen and pointed to a chair. "I'll get you a blanket. Can I make coffee for you? Something warm? If you're hungry, I think there are leftovers in the fridge."

"No that's fine, but a blanket would be great," she said. "Thank you."

As soon as he left the room, Polly started shivering. He was gone for less than a minute and when he returned and saw her body shaking, quickly wrapped the blanket around her, then turned on the oven and opened the door. "This will warm you right up. Let me boil water for tea."

"Thank you," she said, feeling as if every moment was surreal. This truly couldn't be happening to her. She watched him move in the kitchen, uncomfortable, as if he didn't really belong there. It took him a couple of tries at cupboard doors to find the mugs and even longer for him to find a box of tea bags. She was glad that Henry was as comfortable in their kitchen as she was.

He filled the mug with water and put it in the microwave. Before he turned that on, he asked. "How long?" giving her a slight grin. "I don't ever do this."

"That's okay. Just give it a minute."

"Tea bag in or out?"

"Leave it out. That's fine."

Just having someone speak normally helped to relax Polly. "What did you mean,
that
Polly Giller?" she asked.

"Aren't you the one who finds all the bodies?"

"I was afraid of that," she said. "So that's my reputation?"

"We all know that you own Sycamore House in Bellingwood, but yes, everyone knows the rest about you, too." He popped the microwave door open and touched the mug, then brought it over to the table, setting it down quickly. He handed her the box of tea bags and after opening two drawers, found a spoon and set it on the table beside the mug.

"I'm sorry I'm not a better host. I wish I could do more for you. You look like you've had a rough time of it. When were you kidnapped?"

"I think it was this morning. I don't actually remember anything until I woke up, strapped to a bed."

A sharp rap at the back door made Polly jump.

"It's probably the Sheriff," he said. "I'll be right back."

Polly tensed up, hoping he was right. When she heard Aaron's voice, she relaxed again. He strode into the kitchen, saw her sitting in the chair and knelt in front of her.

"Oh Polly," he said and reached out his arms.

She fell against his chest and began to sob.

CHAPTER TWO

Until Henry could get to her with clothing, Polly sat quietly on her hospital bed. She wanted someone ... anyone to tell her that she could leave. Polly told everyone who happened to walk into the room that she was fine, that they hadn't had time to hurt her yet, but no one listened. They'd taken blood and then taken everything she was wearing. She felt like she had nothing left to offer.

A soft tap at the door and Henry poked his head around the corner. "Can I come in?" he asked.

She felt her throat close up and tears rose in her eyes. They hadn't had time to talk yet. From the moment Aaron took her out of Cecil Levitt's house, she'd been caught up in a flurry of activity. Aaron had promised to call Henry. Now, here he was.

He rushed in and took her up in his arms. As he did so, she felt his chest heave and huge sobs come up out of him.

"Honey," she said. "I'm okay."

Henry didn't release her. He just held on and cried, his face buried in her neck.

The door opened and Aaron looked in, then stepped back out and quietly closed the door.

"Henry," Polly said. "Really. I'm okay."

He stepped back, looked at her, and pulled her in for another tight hug. Polly held on, letting him deal with the emotions that had to have been raging for the last couple of hours.

Finally he pulled back and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "I've never been so worried in my life. They wouldn't let me see you. Are you sure you're okay? He didn't hurt you?"

Henry picked up her wrists and gently touched the bandages that were there, covering the scrapes that came from Polly twisting in the restraints.

"I'll be fine," she said softly. "Will you?"

"No. I want to leave town right now with you. Go somewhere far from Bellingwood."

"You know we can't do that."

"Why not? What's stopping us? If there is someone intent on hurting you, let's get out of here."

Polly took the plastic grocery bag Henry held in his hand. "I'm feeling exposed here. Let me get dressed before we go too far down this conversation path." She went into the bathroom and changed into the clothes he'd brought her. The shoes weren't going to go on over the bandages she was wearing on her feet, but she could put socks on. That would help.

"I feel like a human being again," she said, opening the door into the main room. "It's amazing what real clothes will do for a person."

"Is it true that they took your clothes?" he asked. "Were you really running across fields in a black garbage bag?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, waddling across the floor to the chair on the sides of her feet. "At least not right now. Anyway, I think Aaron is waiting. He's in the hall. Would you tell him that it's okay now?"

Henry sighed deeply, gave her a worried look and went out into the hallway. She heard his voice rise and fall. This wasn't going to be easy for him. She knew that. But now was not the right time to leave Bellingwood. She just couldn't.

Sarah Heater was in true hospice care. She and the doctors had decided to stop all chemotherapy about a month ago. The cancer was moving too quickly and her time was limited. Rebecca was handling it as well as possible. She was sleeping in Sarah's room. It was a matter of weeks, if not days.

No matter what happened, Polly wasn't leaving her. Nothing else was quite as important as taking care of that family.

Aaron and Henry came into the room.

"Can I go home now?" Polly asked. "I promise I'm not broken."

Aaron nodded. "They'll be in with paperwork for you to sign and you can leave. But Polly, you need to be careful. I don't want you to be alone until we know who took you."

"You have no idea?"

"By the time we got to the trailer, they'd cleaned up and cleared out. You said there were pizza boxes and trash in the living room?"

"Yes."

"Everything was gone."

"Do you think I'm crazy? That I made it up?"

"Oh no," he said, trying to reassure her. "It was just cleared out. And the worst of it was that they'd wiped down surfaces, too. We haven't found a single fingerprint. Not even yours. But we won't give up. No one is that good. They have to have made a mistake."

"So did they rent this place or what?"

"Pretty sure they squatted."

"But the electricity was on. Why would it be on in an abandoned building?"

"There's a generator out back. All it needed was gas to get started."

"Oh," she said, dejected. "So nothing to tell you who this was?"

"Not yet. Can you remember anything from this morning?"

"Stu and Jim and Will have all been in and asked me those questions. I don't remember." She pulled her knees up in front of her, adjusting her feet until they didn't bite with pain on the lip of the chair. "Where's my truck?"

"We haven't found it yet. Maybe they're driving it. Maybe they just hid it."

"They took my damned truck? Damn it all to hell," she spat. "Who is doing this to me? Why? I'm a nice person. I help people. I try to treat people with respect. I don't deserve this crap."

"It's losing your truck that makes you angry?" Henry asked.

"That's my freedom. I can't pick the kids up or take them to school. I can't visit my friends. I can't do anything because some jerks out there want to have their fun terrorizing me." She dropped her feet to the floor and stood up, startling both Aaron and Henry. "Screw them. No one gets away with this. I want to smack something."

Polly stood in front of Aaron and looked up at him. "Give me something to smack. I'm mad as hell."

He backed up a step. "Please don't hurt me." Aaron looked at the door as a nurse came in carrying a clipboard. "It looks like they're going to let you leave."

"I don't have a phone anymore," Polly said, as tears threatened. "They took my phone. How am I supposed to live? I can't go anywhere or do anything and now I can't even text my friends. Henry ..." she fell apart.

"We'll stop at the phone store. I'll go in and take care of it."

"What if they have my contacts and know who my friends are? What if they're so mad that I got away that they go after someone I love?" Tears flowed down her cheeks.

The nurse glanced back and forth between them and Henry finally reached out. "Paperwork for us to sign?"

"Yes. Do you need anything else?"

"Just to get out of here," Polly said, then she looked up. "Not that you haven't been wonderful, but I want to go home."

"I understand."

They went over the checkout procedure and finally, Polly was in Henry's truck and he was driving away."

"Phone?" she asked.

"Aaron told me I couldn't leave you alone in the truck. Do you want to go in with me?"

"I want a phone. I'll do whatever I have to do."

"You kinda look like hell. Are you sure?"

Polly pasted a huge fake smile on her lips. "There. Is that better? Don't make me beg."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

~~~

Polly was huddled under a blanket in front of the television with both dogs trying to crawl into her lap. Han kept getting bigger and bigger. He was nearly as tall as Obiwan now. What had happened to the sweet little puppy that she'd found with his just-as-sweet mama? That female wasn't very large, but a big dog had certainly gotten to her. Polly had found a DNA kit online that would identify the breeds in Han. Maybe one of these days she'd just go ahead and do it. She scratched his head and he climbed closer to her face, reaching up to give her a lick.

Leia wasn't too happy with that. She was curled up on the back of the couch at Polly's shoulder and reached out to bat at Han's nose. He pulled back, but then came in anyway. Polly pushed him back down so he was settled with his head in her lap. Obiwan had taken his position on the inside of the couch along her legs. He wasn't moving. It was as if they all knew something was wrong.

The house was quiet. Rebecca didn't know anything had happened. She had enough to worry about with her mother. When Evelyn Morrow thought the little girl had had enough, she sent her upstairs for time with the animals. For the last three days, though, even that hadn't happened. Rebecca made it to school in the morning and then when she got home, headed right back to sit beside her mother.

Polly and Rebecca's teacher had spoken several times. The girl had difficulty concentrating, but she'd managed to get her grades to a point where these last few weeks of school wouldn't damage her too much.

Andrew and Kayla had become better friends just because they were thrown together. Kayla loved spending time in the barn with the animals and dragged him down there as often as possible. Polly thought that maybe she ought to offer Eliseo babysitting money. The barn was filled with kids. Jason was bringing some friends with him after school. They loved working with the horses. Eliseo was teaching them to drive the team. He made a deal with each of them. They helped put his garden in and he taught them to ride and to drive. Sam Gardner and Ralph Bedford had also been tapped to help with projects at Sycamore House once spring arrived. The kids, the horses, and the three men had cleared several acres in a field on the other side of the creek and planted sweet corn and potatoes.

Obiwan and Han both jumped down from the sofa and ran to the back staircase. Henry must be back from picking up supper. He hadn't wanted to leave her and for a few minutes after he drove away, Polly had found herself absolutely terrified. Aaron had warned her to never be alone, but once she thought about it, there was no place safer than Sycamore House. The outside doors were locked and Henry had checked the inside doors before leaving.

"You're the talk of the town again," Henry said, dropping the bag on the coffee table.

"The kidnapping?"

"Yep. Everyone is worried about you. You have your own personal security service if you want it. Four different people told me that if you needed anyone to be with you when you had to go somewhere, all we had to do was call and ask."

"That's sweet," Polly said.

"Mom called. She's worried. Aunt Betty called. She wanted you to know that she could be here in five minutes if you need to go somewhere. How about your friends? Have you talked to any of them yet?"

Polly looked down at her phone. They'd remotely bricked her old phone so no one could use it, but she hadn't finished setting this one up the way she liked it. And she hadn't made any calls on it either. She wasn't ready to explain what had happened over and over again.

At some level, she was surprised that no one had reached out to her, but at another, she was relieved. All she wanted to do was sit quietly with Henry and her animals tonight and be thankful that nothing worse had happened today.

Her mind went back over the events of the morning. She wished she could remember, but there wasn't anything there at all. The doctor told her that between the drugs they'd used to knock her out and the trauma of the experience, it wasn't any surprise that she'd lost that bit of her memory. He also told her that it might return. She hoped so. There wasn't much she hated more than having a chunk of her memory go missing.

Henry brought forks and napkins from the kitchen. "What do you want to drink?" he asked.

"Water's fine." Polly was thankful for the interruption. In her mind's eye, she had just woken up on the hospital bed and found herself restrained again. She closed her eyes again and found herself back in the little room, struggling to get out of those leather bands. She unconsciously touched the bandage on her wrist and all of a sudden it was too much.

She scrambled off the sofa and tore for the bathroom, then unloaded what little she had in her stomach into the toilet. Tears burst from her eyes and she hovered there, sobbing.

Henry came in and turned the water on in the sink. He knelt down next to her and wiped her forehead with a cool wash cloth and then her lips, cleaning her face.

"I'm so sorry, honey," he said. "I'm so sorry."

She collapsed into his lap and cried, unable to stop fear from overwhelming her. He held her and stroked her hair, murmuring quietly that he loved her and she was safe.