Chapter 27

MIKE

Ifinished my whole sordid story and waited for Jason and Dillon to react. It was strange, having friends who would actually help me instead of bringing me down. We decided to attack the problem two ways.

"I'll work the legitimate angle from here," Jason said. "I'll have some patrol guys go out looking for a crash, and I'll call the hospitals. You and Dillon go find Porter."

"I think he's clean now," I protested.

"He knows something. If the worst has happened, he may know where to find her," Jason said.

I nodded, standing up. There was no time to waste. Dillon and I raced to the parking lot and hopped into my truck. I didn't know where Porter was staying. I had only seen him twice since getting out of jail. I didn't even have his cell phone number. Instead, I drove to his old home, where he had lived with his parents when we were in high school. The entire way there, I kept my fingers crossed, praying.

It was nine o'clock by the time we knocked on the door. I had some sympathy for an older couple, but I didn't care. My pounding reflected my own desperation. After a wasted minute, an eighty-year-old man answered the door, shotgun in hand.

"What do you what?" he snarled.

"Mr. Hayes." I held my hands up, "It's me, Mike Newbury."

"Mike?" The man lowered his weapon, squinting. "What the hell?"

"I need to find Porter."

The man cursed, shaking his head and turning back into the house.

"Please." I followed him. "It's important."

"I figured that much." Porter's dad found a pencil and paper near an old landline phone in the hallway. "What has Porter done now?"

"It's nothing that he's done." I rubbed my neck anxiously while I waited for him to transcribe the address.

Mr. Hayes handed over the note. "Now get outta my house."

I grabbed it and retreated to the front steps. Dillon was waiting, and I passed the note to him. We jumped in the truck and sped away, Dillon typing the address into the GPS as I drove. We arrived at what looked like a respectable home in one of the suburban neighborhoods off Main Street. I checked the note again to make sure we had the right address. It seemed to be legitimate. I couldn't imagine Porter having enough money to rent this place, and it looked more like a single-family home than a halfway house.

I climbed out of the truck, aware that I was battling the clock. I hurried up the steps, Dillon at my heels. We knocked, more respectfully this time. A middle-aged man who was not Porter came to the door in a bathrobe.

"I'm Mike Newbury, a friend of Porter Hayes," I introduced myself. "Is Porter here?"

The man sighed, moving aside to let us in. We crowded into a foyer with vaulted ceilings. "Wait here," the man said.

A minute later, Porter emerged from the kitchen, smiling. "Mike!" He took my hand, seeming to disregard my state of panic. "Thanks for visiting. But how did you—"

"We stopped by your parents' place." I answered the question before it was asked. "Is there somewhere we could talk?"

"Sure." Porter nodded, ushering us through the kitchen to a door in the back. When we stepped through, I finally understood. There was an entire apartment in the garage, a bed, dresser, and mini fridge collected in the center, television mounted to the wall. The mechanical garage doors were closed, giving the illusion of a fourth wall. "I'm renting the garage," Porter explained. "Do you want a soda?"

"No," I said. "Porter, this is Dillon. He's Tammy's cousin-in-law?" I squinted through the familial connection, checking with Dillon to see if I got it right.

Dillon nodded. It didn't matter anyway.

I sped on with the mission, determined to get it all out as quickly as possible. "Tammy's missing."

"Oh no." Porter sat on his bed, stunned.

"If your old business associates are involved, do you have any idea where she might be?" I continued.

Porter nodded, looking up at Dillon first, then back at me. "I might."

"Tell us," Dillon said.

"I'm coming with you." Porter stood up.

"No," I argued. "It could get dangerous."

"I'm the one who got you into this whole mess," Porter admitted. "I owe you that much."

I couldn't say no. That he was willing to put his life on the line for my girlfriend was heartwarming. I had missed this Porter, the one who was a stand-up guy and who had my back no matter what. It had been so long since I had seen him, lost as he was behind a veil of intoxication. Together, the three of us charged back through the house and out into the night.

I drove while Porter gave directions from the passenger seat, Dillon squeezed between us. Porter took us up into the hills, on the opposite side of town from our cabins. We turned off onto an unpaved access road, bumping our way deep into the forest. After about a quarter mile, Porter poked my shoulder.

"Turn off here."

"Where?" I asked. There was nothing but undergrowth and pine needles.

"There's a cabin about a hundred yards up," Porter said. "Turn the car off, or they'll see us."

I looked at Dillon. I didn't like this, but there didn't seem to be any choice. I eased the truck off the path and cut the engine. None of us had any weapons, so we were gonna have to go in stealthily and hope the element of surprise would carry us through. I switched on my phone and pinged the location to Jason.

We found Tammy's car abandoned on the way out of town, Jason texted. Looks like an abduction. Wait for backup.

I showed Dillon the text.

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

"You can wait here for the police," I said, unbuckling my seat belt. "I'm going to get her."

"I'm coming," Porter announced before I could stop him.

"Are you sure?" I asked when we were both on the ground, standing in front of the truck.

"Let me do this," Porter insisted.

I nodded, and we took off at a jog. No flashlights, no phone lights, not even moonlight helped us find our way. Porter went off memory, and I stuck close to him. In a few minutes, we were rewarded. Electricity shone from the windows of a tiny cabin, only about half the size of my house.

"Go around back," Porter whispered. "There's a bedroom window that's broken. Or was last time I was here. I don't think they've fixed it."

I hesitated. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to create a diversion," he said proudly, thumping me once on the back.

I nodded, unseen in the dark, and slipped off to circle the cabin. I kept to the forest, paying attention to the noise I was making, trying to avoid large bushes. Around back, I could see the bedroom through naked windows. There was a person sitting on a chair facing away from the window. I crept closer, and by the time I reached the glass, I could see it was Tammy, her wrists tied behind her.

My heart stuck in my throat. To see her at the mercy of someone else like that was torture. I wanted to smash the glass with my bare hands, reach through the window and drag her to safety, but I had to keep my cool. Examining the window, I could see that Porter had been right. Two of the panes were missing, broken and removed from the window. It was easy to reach through and slide the frame up, careful to minimize the noise.

I heard a commotion from beyond the bedroom door and feared the worse. Acting quickly, I hoisted myself through the open window, sliding down to the floor. Tammy was facing away from me and unable to see what was happening. To her credit, she didn't scream. I crept forward, a finger to my lips.

When she finally caught sight of me, her relief was palpable. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes. They hadn't bothered to gag her, figuring, I guessed, that they were too far out in the woods for her to attract any attention. I kissed her firmly, overjoyed to feel the warm pressure of her lips against mine. There wasn't time for reunions, though, so I contented myself with a single touch. Pulling a knife out of my pocket, I cut her free. Together, we crept toward the window.

The bedroom door burst open, and a large man appeared, holding Porter by the neck. He shoved my friend to the floor, expecting to find his other captive still tied up in the chair. When he registered that the chair was empty, he scanned the room in confusion. He spotted Tammy and me near the window, making our escape.

I stepped in front of Tammy. "Go!" I whispered, urging her to dive through the window while I held the bad guys at bay.

"No." She refused to leave me.

The man produced a gun from a holster on his belt, leveling it at me. My mind went through a thousand scenarios, discarding each one as fast as it came. We could leap out the window, taking our chances with flying bullets. We could dive for the closet, locking ourselves in there to wait for the police. I could bum-rush him, sacrificing myself for Tammy's sake. None of them were viable plans, but all of them better than doing nothing.

In the time it took for me to react, Porter leapt up from the floor, slamming into his former associate. The gun went off, a bullet burying itself in the wall above the bed. Tammy covered her ears, crouching down instinctively. I whirled, grabbing her by the arm and helping her out the window. I dropped to the ground a moment later, feeling guilty about leaving Porter. In a split-second decision, I had thrown in my fortune with Tammy, realizing it was more important to me to make sure she was okay than to risk death by helping Porter. Hating myself for cowardice, I focused on getting my girlfriend and our unborn child out of harm's way.

We circled around to the front of the cabin, only to be startled by police lights. There were at least three cruisers in the clearing, officers jumping out and streaming into the little house. I grabbed Tammy by the hand and led her to safety. Dillon climbed out of the driver's seat of my truck, parked behind the wall of cop cars.

"Take her to the hospital." I handed the love of my life over to Dillon. "Porter's still in there."

"Go with Tammy," Dillon insisted. "I'll make sure Porter is okay."

I deliberated. I knew Dillon and half a dozen police officers could do a better job protecting my old friend than I could. And Tammy needed my shoulder to cry on. I nodded in agreement, grabbing the keys from Dillon. I helped Tammy up into the cab and shut the door behind her. As I climbed into the driver's seat, my heart thrilled to see a brave smile lighting her face. No tears or bruises marred her skin, just my sweet girl alone with me at last. I backed up and spun around, punching the hospital into the GPS. The nightmare was over.