Wildfire Spreading

WILDFIRE SPREADING VICTORIA RUBEN Copyright © 2023 by Victoria Ruben ISBN: 978-1-312-68228-3 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. CONTENTS Prologue 1. Robert COMMUNITY ACTIVIST REPORTED MISSING 2. Robert 3. Alice 4. Robert ELIZABETH THOMAS ABDUCTED, HELD FOR RANSOM 5. Robert 6. Alice 7. Robert 8. Alice 9. Robert 10. Alice 11. Elizabeth 12. Robert 13. Alice MRS. THOMAS THREATENED BY HUSBAND’S PATIENT’S HUSBAND WEEKS BEFORE ABDUCTION 14. Robert 15. Alice 16. Elizabeth 17. Robert 18. Elizabeth 19. Alice WOOD’S EDGE WOMAN WANTED IN CONNECTION WITH THOMAS MURDER 20. Robert 21. Elizabeth 22. Alice 23. Robert ARMED ROBBERY AT WOOD’S EDGE MCDONALDS DR. THOMAS, HUSBAND OF LATE MRS. ELIZABETH THOMAS, ASSAULTED IN HOME 24. Alice 25. Robert 26. Alice 27. Robert 28. Elizabeth 29. Robert 30. Alice 31. Elizabeth 32. Alice 33. Elizabeth 34. Alice 35. Robert 36. Alice 37. Elizabeth 38. Alice 39. Robert 40. Elizabeth 41. Robert 42. Elizabeth 43. Alice 44. Robert 45. Alice 46. Elizabeth 47. Alice 48. Robert 49. Alice 50. Robert 51. Elizabeth 52. Robert 53. Elizabeth 54. Alice Also by Victoria Ruben The Young Gods by Victoria Ruben PROLOGUE ELIZABETH I was leaving the grocery store, and I couldn’t stop smiling. Jonathan was out of town for four days. Andy was having a weekend-long sleepover up in Wood’s Edge with that idiot, Chris, and that other idiot whose name I can never remember. So for forty-eight uninterrupted hours (give or take), it would have just been us. It was almost eight, and it was already dark. Winter was fast approaching, and I was shivering. I loaded the last bag into the car and reached up to close the trunk. As I did, I felt someone’s hand run over the small of my back. Then, I felt something sharp and cold pressed into my stomach. “Okay,” I said, very quietly, “Okay. Okay.” “Are you going to scream?” he asked, and to make sure I answered correctly, he pressed the blade harder into my skin. “No.” I shook my head a little too emphatically. “I won’t scream. My keys and wallet are in my purse. My phone is…” He took it from my hand and slipped it into his pocket. “Give me your rings.” “Okay.” I was just a little calmer then, though my hands were shaking so violently that I had trouble pulling off my engagement ring and wedding band. He just wanted to rob me. That was all. “Don’t look at me,” he snapped. “Okay.” I nodded, closed my eyes, and reached back to hand the rings to him. “I haven’t seen your face,” I whispered, and with only my eyes, I looked towards the store entrance, cursing myself for parking so far away, for shopping so late. Frantically, I wondered why no one was coming out. If I pushed the knife away, would I have enough time to run to the door, make it inside? He pulled my keys from my purse but left my wallet. He took my elbow and guided me to the driver’s side of the car. I thought he was letting me go, and ridiculously, for a second, I almost asked him to hand me my wallet, because I couldn’t drive without my license. He sat me down in the driver’s seat. Knelt beside me. Reflexively, my head jerked away from him. I didn’t want to see his face. And I hadn’t. Not really. All I knew was that he was white and so tall that he towered over me. “Are you going to run?” “No.” I shook my head again, keeping my eyes on the passenger side window. Not on him. Anywhere but on him. “That’s good. You don’t want to make me chase you, do you?” “No,” I answered. “No, I don’t want that.” He climbed into the backseat, and I said, “You can take the car. You have the keys.” He reached forward, grasped my hand, and dropped the keys into it. “Drive.” “Where?” I asked, “An ATM? I need my cards. You left my wallet.” “I’ll tell you where to go. Just drive.” I nodded. Started the car. That flash of hope I felt earlier dissipated. He didn’t just want to rob me; he wanted something else. I was biting my lip. My tongue. I couldn’t think of what else he could want. Or, I didn’t want to. I felt so cold. I couldn’t stop shivering, even after he told me quietly that I could turn the heat on. I wanted my coat, too, and I wanted to wipe my sweating palms on my dress, but he had the knife pressed to my stomach again, and I didn’t want to take my hands off the wheel unless he told me I could. When he said to change lanes, I glanced back in the mirror as I did, and I saw his eyes. Only his eyes. And he saw me see him. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone.” My voice was shuddering, threatening to break. I could feel the tears starting as I desperately tried to come up with a plan. I could try to take his knife. I could jump out of the car. We were heading out of downtown Arabelle. Into the boonies. I knew I couldn’t let him take me there. I couldn’t let him take me where there were no witnesses. I was at the last real beacon of civilization before we passed over into the deep and dark woods. There was the expensive Italian restaurant, a gas station, a church. A few old houses. Then, it was country roads for miles and miles. “Please, just…” I began, and the tears were streaming down my face now. My body was curling over, pulling closer to the wheel. With the hand not holding the knife,