She grasped Ian’s hand more firmly. “Thank you for telling us, Wally,” she said. “We’ll find Tara. We’re going to stop at the animal shelter. She’s been working there, you know.” And she walked away, leaving Wally standing there. She pulled a startled Ian toward his car.
They took the county road that wended along the woods, skirting the bluff. The bay nestled below, its deep waters brooding. In the light, it could be a pleasant drive with the sun shadowboxing through green leaves, but now its deep gloom matched Annie’s dark thoughts. Ian drove in silence, his strong hands on the wheel giving her comfort as she focused on them.
They reached the sprawling property generously furnished with pines and deciduous trees. The road forked sharply, and the old farmhouse appeared in the distance. They drove past the outbuildings and discarded farm implements, which Carla no doubt had inherited when she bought the place. There was even a motley-looking camper someone had abandoned behind a remote shed. They drove by the chain-link fences to the accompaniment of restless barking. One thing was for sure: No one was likely to sneak up on Carla unannounced.
The place lay in darkness—not even a porch light was in evidence.
“You suppose she goes to bed with the chickens?” Ian asked.
Ian pulled up alongside the dark farmhouse. Annie didn’t wait for him to come around to her door but leapt out, shutting it noisily behind her. The dogs, having sounded their displeasure, quickly resumed their innocent pursuits. Stillness lay over the property like a pall.
“Eerie,” Ian commented drily.
Her thoughts exactly, but she hurried up the dirt path and rapped on the door firmly and then more insistently, but no sound came from within. Had Carla gone out for the evening? Maybe she’d had a relapse and had to be hospitalized again. Random thoughts raced through Annie’s mind. She welcomed them to cover the insistent sense that something was terribly wrong.
Ian moved off the porch and started around to the back. She raced after him, peering into dark windows that revealed nothing at all.
At the back of the house he stopped so abruptly that she bumped into him. “See that window—that high one?” Ian whispered. “It’s been broken!”
She followed his gaze and saw the jagged hole. But the window was a small one. Even fully broken out it wouldn’t accommodate an adult, even a diminutive Tara. It could even have been an old break Carla hadn’t gotten around to fixing.
Ian had moved ahead of her again. He spread his hands out signaling her to be quiet.
“What is it?” she whispered. But she saw what he was looking at. The screen door had been torn away, and the wood around the inside door shattered.
Ian pulled her away from the entrance and around to the side of the house. “Someone’s broken in here!” His dark eyes grew bright, almost translucent and darted from her face to the door and back again.
“Oh, Ian!” she exclaimed. What could it mean? Why hadn’t she let him call the police when he wanted to? He was digging in his pocket for his cellphone when they heard a loud crack like something falling or a door banging. Was Carla in trouble? Without a second’s further thought Annie pushed through the door.
They entered a dark and damp mudroom, and then ventured into the kitchen. Neither spoke, their ears attuned for the slightest sound. But all was deathly still. Beyond the kitchen a narrow hallway loomed. When Annie stepped toward it, Ian pulled her back wordlessly and crept in front of her.
They moved stealthily. Suddenly there was a scuffle off to their left behind a closed door. Excited yips of a dog followed. Someone let out a cry, words she couldn’t understand.
As one, she and Ian pushed against the door. Locked! Then suddenly it gave way and they nearly fell inside to find Tara on her knees, her hand on the knob. Carla was huddled against the bed, scrambling to get up. The chocolate Lab whimpered and wriggled his spastic hip in pitiful commiseration.
Annie looked from one to the other in astonishment and confusion. Tara’s face was chalk white and streaked with dirt or tears or both. Her blouse was torn and angled over one pale shoulder.
“What’s going on here?” Ian demanded, helping Tara to her feet.
“That wretched man is getting away! That’s what’s going on!” Carla sputtered. “He just took off through the front door when you came in the back!” Carla tested her balance, steadying herself on the dresser.
“Who? What man?” Ian thundered.
“Oh, Annie! It’s my fault,” Tara cried. “I tried to make him understand. Jem wouldn’t listen.”
Annie looked around for Ian, who had bolted out of the room. Where had he gone?