Page 1 of Vision of Justice
Chapter One
Sasha Frost raced through an arch of trees into the thickly grown forest behind her backyard. The soles of her shoes pounded against a floor of fallen pine needles, the wind rustled through the trees, and birds chirped from high up in the branches. Her breath began to quicken along with her strides, and she welcomed the slight burn in her calves. The physical activity was a good way to end a day spent hunched over a canvas.
Like when she was painting, all her worries dissolved when she ran, and she gave in to the simple pleasure of being in the moment. She passed by a small stream that marked the halfway point in the trail, but she wasn’t ready to turn back. The trees weren’t as dense here as they had been, and if she ran straight, she’d find her way back to the trail. She loped off the path and continued on. When a shiver skated down her spine, she took pause, resting her hands against her knees to catch her breath. It was silly to feel like there were eyes on her, but she trusted her instinct as she’d never been uncomfortable in her own woods. Once her breathing slowed, she quietly took stock of her surroundings. Probably just a fox or bobcat that disappeared back into the forest. Then she heard it, a soft cry to her left. Her breath caught, and her heartbeat raced. Something wasn’t right. She took a tentative step forward. Then another. Following the strangled cries that got louder with each step, but still were muffled. Hadn’t she seen a something about murderers luring their victims from their homes with audio recordings of crying babies? She swallowed hard. Probably just a myth circulating over social media.
“Hello?” she croaked, voice nearly lost in the wide space. Nothing. The sweat trickled down her spine iced. The air had stilled, birds had ceased their chirping. There was a tingling in her chest, the distinct roll of dread through her belly. She should run, dash back to the familiar trail and the safety of her home. Maybe she was a fool, like one of the actors in a horror film who walked straight into danger, but if she hiked away from someone who was hurt or lost, it would haunt her forever. She kept following the sound, losing it occasionally and circling back. Every cell in her body was on edge, each tiny hair on the back of her neck standing at attention.
“Help.” The weak whine was so close that she nearly jumped out of her skin. It didn’t sound like the voice came from her left or right, but below her.
“I can hear you,” she said, licking her dry lips. “Where are you?” There was silence for one beat, then two.
“A hole. He’s going to come back. Ki-kill me.” The voice was frantic now, and goosebumps puckered over her skin. She crouched and began to crawl, clearing the leaves as she moved. Twigs and rocks bit into her knees, and fear was a living thing roaring in her ears. Something hard and sharp nicked her hand, and she recoiled. Blood streamed from a score over her palm.
“Keep talking,” she said in a harsh whisper, wiping her bloody hand across her outer thigh.
“He-he’ll hear. Please. Please. Please.” The shrill voice dissolved into sobs. Sounded like they were right next to her. The pile of dried leaves seemed thicker here, more densely covered with branches. With shaky hands, she tossed them to the side, digging through the leaves. Below that was a layer of soil, darker than what was natural around the forest. Her adrenaline spiked. Someone had intentionally concealed this spot, and the more debris she moved, the louder the cries sounded.
“It’s okay, I found you,” she whispered, looking around to make sure they were still alone. Below the last of the dirt, a rusty, two-hinged door, locked by heavy chain link, was fixed to the ground with iron spikes and a poured cement foundation. She gripped the chains and yanked, but the door was solidly stuck in its place. Shit. She had jumped into action without thinking, and she should’ve called the police from the start.
Fumbling for her phone, she pulled it from her pocket. With trembling fingers, she dialed 9-1-1. “Come on, come on,” she whispered as the phone rang and rang. Then the call dropped. She stopped the scream of frustration that nearly burst through her lips. Someone had freaking buried another person beneath the ground. They could come back at any moment, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to try to keep dialing while she and the person below were sitting ducks. She glanced around, looking for something, anything, to break the chains or help levy out the spikes. A large rock caught her eye, and she jumped up to retrieve it.
“Oh, God, please don’t leave.” The wailing started again, leading her back to the metal doors.
“Shh. Shh,” she hushed between her teeth. “I’m here. And we’ll leave together. The door is chained. I need to break it. It’s going to be loud.” Without waiting for a response, she lifted the rock over her head and smashed it down. The resilient chains merely rattled. She brought the rock down again and again until her arms burned. She forged on with renewed hope when one of the links started to separate. One last smash, and the link popped. She hoped the person who did this was far, far away because every person within a five-mile radius probably heard that. Working fast, she threaded the broken chain through the metal handles and yanked the door. It screeched open. The smell hit her first. Urine and something else she didn’t want to spend much time thinking of. The hole was at least six feet deep, and below was a young girl, maybe twelve years old. Her heart lurched. The poor thing. Instincts overriding her fear, she lay on her stomach to get closer. The girl’s wrists were tightly bound, dried blood speckled up her arms.
“He’ll come back.” Her eyes were wide with terror. “It’s not safe.”
“Then let’s get the hell out of here.” She pushed up on her hands and knees and dropped her legs into the hole. “I’m coming down. I’ll boost you out first. Do you think you can walk?”
“I-I can try. Can crawl if I have to. I just want out.” Her voice was hoarse, igniting the question of how long she’d been kept here, how long she had to sit alone in the dark screaming for help.
Sasha landed with a thud, and pain lodged in the back of her throat. The kid was in rough shape. The tight rope had cut off her circulation, and her hands were swollen and purplish blue that made her stomach roll. If she took the binds off now, the pain would be excruciating, and the girl might lose more blood. She looked gaunt and gray, but the large brown eyes triggered her brain.
“Melissa Fletcher?”
The teenager had dominated headlines on every news station for the past three weeks. She was the daughter of one of Massachusetts’s wealthiest business families. The heiress of Haven Security Corporation had been snatched from her second-floor bedroom.
The girl’s head bobbed up and down a few times.
“Okay, Melissa. Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to pick you up, scoot you up on the edge. Once I’m out, we’ll get you back to my house and call the police. I’m not going to hurt you, and I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you either. Okay?”
The small nod was all she needed to spring into action. She cradled the kid, carefully gripping her thin knees with one hand and pushing the other against her bony back. The exertion was no more taxing than lifting a heavy travel bag over her head. “You’re on the edge, so I’m going to let go and crawl up. Okay?”
She landed with an oomph.
“Please. I’m scared.” Melissa let out a long groan. “I can’t see, it’s too bright.”
“Give yourself a second to adjust to the light.” The last thing she wanted was for Melissa to have a panic attack and draw attention of whoever put her here. With one foot firmly planted on the wall behind her for leverage, she jumped and wiggled herself over the edge. In the light, the teen looked so frail and broken, she wanted to wrap her arms around her, but the clock was ticking. Her abductor could be back at any moment.
“I’ll help you get to your feet. If you can’t, I’ll carry you back.” At a hair over five feet tall and one hundred pounds, she was pretty concerned about her ability to run with Melissa in her arms, but she needed to reassure her. The girl’s gaze darted wildly around her, and her breathing was quick and thready. Off in the distance, a chipper whistle flowed through the air, and her entire body stiffened. Melissa collapsed beside her, whimpering.
“That’s him.” Melissa’s voice was strained, broken.
She gulped down a breath, trying her best to stay quiet even as her heart was nearly exploding in her chest. “I’m going to lift you.” Her voice was just a whisper, and she was relieved that she sounded so much calmer than she really was. She grabbed Melissa, bent her knees, and hoisted her over her shoulders. It took her a moment to steady herself. And then she began to run.
Chapter Two
Gus Lambert turned off the faucet, the hot spray of the shower abruptly dying, leaving his wet skin chilled. He shook his head to clear the droplets from his hair and slung a towel around his hips. It had been one hell of a weekend, and he’d been the lucky son of a bitch to be the on-call detective. He’d jinxed himself when Saturday went by without incident and it seemed like it was going to be a quiet weekend. Then he got slammed with two homicides before noon on Sunday. No way to start off the workweek.