Last Resort

She barely suppressed another cry. Where was she?

She squeezed her eyes shut tight against the pain in her head and tried to think. Somebody had chased her. She remembered running back to the sawmill, someone grabbing her. She remembered falling. Then nothing. Whoever was chasing her had brought her here. But where was here? If only it weren’t so dark…if only she’d found her flashlight in the mud puddle.

Her eyes strained against the blackness. She blinked. Nothing. It was as if she were encircled by air as thick as tar. But if she could see nothing, then that meant nothing could see her. That thought brought some comfort. The darkness was her friend.

Unfortunately, it seemed she had an enemy more scary than the darkness had ever been when she was a little kid.

The drip of water caught her attention again. She turned toward the sound and gasped at the sudden burst of pain in the back of her head. Had her attacker knocked her out? Or had it been the fall?

And where was he now? Or was it a he?

Fear mingled with the pain. Carissa strained to see anything at all through the darkness, but there was no light. Her heartbeat pounded like a hammer on her skull. Her shallow breaths echoed against…what?

She raised her hand and tentatively pressed it deeper and deeper into the thick blackness. About a foot away from her face she touched something hard, and jerked back. She rubbed her fingers together and felt wetness. Forced herself to reach out again, she felt damp, gritty rock, forming a wall beside her.

A wall where?

Would her attacker come back? Maybe he thought she was dead. Maybe she would be dead if she stayed here.

She tried to sit up. Shafts of pain shot from her head all the way down her back, and she slumped sideways against the wall.

The smell of fresh, damp earth was familiar, but the sound of dripping was different from the sounds of the woods where she’d been walking earlier. She touched the wall beside her once more, and again rubbed her fingers together. Gritty wetness. She heard the water dripping in the distance, with a hollow echo, as though the sound was contained.

An underground cavern of some kind? She’d been in enough caves with Justin to recognize the feel and smell of one. How long had she been here? A few minutes? Hours? She had to get out.

She leaned forward and braced herself against the wet wall, trying to breathe past the pain, the way Melva had told her to do when she’d broken her arm last year. She couldn’t let the pain stop her, or she might die here.

Slowly, she stood up. Keeping her hand on the cave wall, she inched her way forward, stumbling in the dark over rocks and pebbles. Was this the right thing to do? What if she was going in the wrong direction?

Pain spread from her head down her neck. She took shallow, quick breaths and thought about sunshine and safety.

She shuffled forward along the uneven rock for a few more minutes, keeping her right hand extended in front of her while staying in contact with the cave wall. A wrong step could plunge her to her death if there was a drop-off. Justin had warned her never to get lost in a cave. Too late now.

She felt along the surface of the mud-slick cavern floor with her toes until the pounding pain in her skull grew too harsh, then she paused to breathe away some of the throbbing.

A moment later, she continued inching forward.

But was she going the right way? Should she wait a little longer, in case someone was coming for her? Dad and Melva and Jill would be looking for her soon. People got lost in these Ozark caves. Some died. Maybe she should wait a little longer….

How had her attacker been able to carry her this way? Maybe she should—

Stone clattered against stone somewhere behind her, and she froze, listening. She almost called out, then she realized that Dad or Melva or Justin or Jill would be shouting for her. There was a shuffle of footsteps, another clatter of rock. Carissa dropped to her knees, pressing her lips together to keep from crying out at the sudden pain.

She waited.

Silence.

She crawled forward, keeping her left hand on the wall to guide her as the soles of her shoes slid across the muddy earth. She could hear her own loud breathing.

A flash of light shot over the dripping rocks, then disappeared. She froze to watch and listen.

Was that a whisper? Or just a change in rhythm of the dripping water?

The light flashed again, and Carissa caught sight of a stalagmite just ahead, with a shelf of white rock beyond it. A hiding place. If she could reach that spot and—

Another whisper, then the sound of footsteps. Someone was coming, but any other sounds of an approach disappeared in the thumping roar inside Carissa’s skull, pain growing worse as her fear mounted.

She scrambled past the fat stalagmite. Digging her fingers into tiny crevices, she pulled herself up the stone wall. A narrow space behind a slab of limestone looked like a perfect fit for her as the light flashed through the cave again. She crawled into the space, then collapsed, gritting her teeth against the sharp stabbing in her skull.

She heard the sound of rocks scattering, then footsteps below her. Light flickered across the white limestone. She cringed. Could she be seen?

There was a loud gasp. “No!” The voice was a whisper. The searcher paused, as if looking around. Then: “Carissa? Carissa…” Like the hiss of a snake.

More footsteps, as if the searcher roamed through the cave. More whispers echoed from the walls of rock, like the sound of dry leaves blowing in the wind, but Carissa couldn’t make out the words. She held her breath, trembling with terror.

That whisper…something about it was familiar. But what? Or maybe it wasn’t the voice. Maybe it was something else. She sniffed the air. A scent?

Whoever was holding that light and filling the cavern with whispers knew her name.

The footsteps shuffled past her hiding place, and the light faded in the distance. Darkness and silence floated down over her again like a shield. At last, all was dark, and all was silent once more.

Chapter Three

Noelle fastened her seatbelt and settled the thermos beside her as Nathan pulled out of her driveway. She fished her cell phone out from her purse then punched in Cecil’s home number. When a stranger answered, she asked about the status of the search and was told Carissa had not yet been found.

“Thanks.” She disconnected. “Nothing yet.”

“We can try again in a little while.”

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Oh, Carissa, where are you?

Nathan’s warm hand touched her arm. “You okay?”

She nodded as tears stung behind her closed lids. “I’m fine. Carissa will be, too.”

His hand tightened. “You know that for sure?”

She opened her eyes and looked at him, hearing the odd note in his voice. “I’m praying it’s true.” She hadn’t stopped praying since Nathan had broken the news to her. Actually, she’d been praying before that.

He nodded and returned his attention to the road.

She knew this drive well, all the rolling hills, stark cliffs and misty valleys that stretched from Springfield to Branson on Highway 65, and then west on 76 to the Hideaway turnoff. These wooded Ozark hills kept their secrets well.

She closed her eyes, once again picturing her young cousin’s smiling face, her mischievous blue eyes and shoulder-length ringlets of soft brown hair. Oh, Carissa.

Tears smarted Noelle’s eyes again, and she straightened in her seat. “Tell me about the search. Where have they looked? How many are helping?”

“No one has rested,” Nathan said. “Not even Aunt Pearl. They’ve combed Cedar Hollow from end to end. The police, the forest rangers, even some local guardsmen were called to help.”

“So you’re saying they called out the guards before they called me?” That stung, and yet she knew this wasn’t the time to allow her personal feelings to become involved. She’d called the Coopers last night from the store, and left a message on their machine.

“Sorry.”

“How’s Aunt Pearl holding up?” Noelle asked. Her sixty-seven-year-old great-aunt Pearl lived on the original family homestead, about a quarter mile from Cecil’s home. Cecil and his family lived in the same sprawling two-story house in which he had grown up, halfway between Pearl’s house and the sawmill. Ordinarily, a sawmill would need to be situated closer to civilization, but Cooper’s had been in operation for over fifty years, with an excellent reputation. It never lacked for business.

“I’ve hardly seen anything of her,” Nathan said. “She’s obviously upset.”

“How’s her heart?”

“She’s strong as an ox, you know that. I wouldn’t be surprised to discover she’s covered the whole property on foot herself.”

“Surely there have been places the searchers have missed,” Noelle said. “Nobody could possibly cover all two thousand acres in one night. Who, besides the guards and police, is searching?”

“Thirty people from regional search-and-rescue squads, plus the Cooper sawmill employees. Dane Gideon came over with his ranch hands before I left this morning, and as the word’s spread, the churches got involved. Everyone has combed the woods as thoroughly as possible, then started over again. When I left this morning, it looked as if there were more people than trees in that forest.”

Noelle felt a rush of gratitude for the strong community that had always been a part of Hideaway, and the surrounding countryside, and once again tears filled her eyes. “And family?”

“Cecil stays out there all the time. He won’t eat, won’t even sit down for a short rest.”

Noelle could easily believe that. The paternal instinct ran strong in her cousin. “What about Melva?” she asked. Cecil’s second wife had always adored Carissa and Justin. Indeed, the family joked that Melva had married Cecil because she’d wanted to mother his children.

“She’s not holding up well at all,” Nathan said.

Noelle closed her eyes and willed herself not to let the tears fall. Why hadn’t they returned her call last night? She stayed up late waiting and praying, until she’d finally received assurance that everything would be okay. But now? Where was all that holy assurance now?

“Your sister’s been keeping a close eye on Melva,” Nathan said. “Typical Jill.”

Noelle sighed and turned her head to stare out the passenger window, across a rare open valley. “Jill didn’t call me.”

Nathan didn’t reply.

Noelle gave him a sharp glance. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Maybe you should have a talk with Jill when we get there.”

“Why?” She studied his expression. His attention remained on the road, hands at the ten and two position on the steering wheel, back straight, a sure sign he was covering. “Let me guess. She told everyone not to call me.”

He grimaced.

“She did!”

“She said you had a lot going on right now, and this would be too much for you.”

Noelle scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. She should have known better than to tell her sister about Joel’s return. Now Jill was all distressed, begging Noelle to scamper back home to Hideaway with her tail between her legs, like a whipped cur. Again. Jill to the rescue. Again. But Noelle didn’t need rescuing this time.

“She’s only concerned for your welfare,” he said.

“Don’t even start with that, Nathan. I’m thirty-six. She still sees me as a seven-year-old child who’s lost her mother. For Pete’s sake, that was twenty-nine years ago.” And Jill never seemed to remember that she’d lost her mother, too.

“She mentioned that you had a difficult time after the sawmill accident.”

“Sure I did. So did everyone else. It was shocking and horrible, and Jill didn’t even take time to grieve. She was too busy taking care of everyone else. Come on, Nathan, she’s pulling the big-sister act again. It isn’t healthy for her or anyone else. And besides, that accident was ten years ago. I wasn’t exactly in the best mental state at the time.”

Ten years ago, Noelle and Jill had lost their father and grandparents in an accident at the sawmill when a load of cedar logs had fallen off a flatbed truck, crushing them. Four years later, Cecil’s wife—Justin and Carissa’s mother—had suddenly left home, abandoning her family. Two years ago, a tornado had ripped through Cedar Hollow, barely sparing the homes and sawmill. Some people said Cedar Hollow was cursed. Sometimes, Noelle agreed.

From her peripheral vision, Noelle saw Nathan give her a brief glance. “You’ve lost weight,” he said.

“Thank you for noticing.”

“Haven’t been eating?”

She shook her head. “I needed to lose the weight anyway, but I guess I’ve been a little on edge the past couple of weeks, what with Joel back in town.”

There was an expressive silence, and she could have bitten her tongue. Apparently, Jill hadn’t shared that tidbit with Nathan.

“You didn’t tell me.” There was a note of accusation in his voice.

She felt an uncomfortable nudge of guilt. She reminded herself firmly that there was no reason to feel guilty. “Now you’re beginning to sound like Jill.”

“Okay, let me make sure I’m clear on this.” His voice bit with a hint of sarcasm. “Your ex-husband—who has proven in the past to be violent—has suddenly reappeared in Springfield. You’re nervous enough about it that you’ve lost your appetite, yet you don’t think it’s reasonable for anyone to become concerned?”

“I’m simply saying I don’t need more than one person overreacting to the crises in my life. I’m capable of taking care of them myself.” Okay, maybe she was overreacting. Yes, she and Nathan had renewed their friendship, and she valued that friendship highly, but she was answerable to no one but herself. These past few years of independence had given Noelle a sweet taste of freedom. She intended to guard that freedom with everything she had.

She glanced at Nathan’s profile, the even features, the high forehead, and resisted a pang of chagrin at the concern in his expression. “I’m telling you now, okay? And yes, I’ve lost some sleep over it. I just don’t think anyone else should have to worry.” Especially since she had landed herself in this mess to begin with. She didn’t intend to drag friends and family into the ugly aftermath of her past mistakes.

“Has he tried to contact you?”

She hesitated. “Let’s just say he’s made sure I know he’s back.”

“Please don’t tell me he knows where you’re living now.”

“He could easily find out if he wanted to, but he’s been coming into the store the past couple of weeks.”

Nathan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “He’s been coming in? As in, more than once?”

“Twice when I was working, but he always purchased things, so it isn’t as if he’s harassing me.”

“Has he said anything to you?”

“He barely looked at me.” Okay, so it wasn’t completely objectionable to have Nathan concerned about her welfare.

“Do you think he’s up to something?”

“I can’t tell. Six years ago I was able to read him and know when to expect an outburst, but he’s been gone a long time. Now we’re strangers, and I don’t know what to expect.”

They rode in silence for a moment. During the divorce proceedings, which had been drawn out for eighteen excruciating months, Noelle had received several threats from Joel, along with a broken windshield. There had also been numerous anonymous telephone calls to her place of employment, where she’d worked as a nurse for a pediatric group, calls that ultimately had resulted in the loss of her job when the harassment had become too intense—Missouri’s status as a “right to fire” state hadn’t helped. Three of the five physicians in the group had requested her termination, with no reason needed.

Because of her past work record, she’d found it impossible to find another nursing position, which was her own fault. Testing positive for methamphetamines had cast an indelible smudge on her reputation, though she hadn’t touched drugs again. She only wished she’d never taken those pills the first time, had never fallen for Joel’s promise that they would “keep her alert.”

The situation with Joel had become so frightening that she’d requested a restraining order. She hadn’t received one, because she couldn’t prove her estranged husband was the culprit. During the final six months before the divorce hearing, she’d gone home to Hideaway and stayed with Jill. And her concerned older sister had stepped back into her “mommy” role, to the point of insisting that Noelle eat three healthy meals a day and attend church twice a week. It was then that Noelle had begun to seek God’s direction in earnest, for the first time in many years.

“You don’t think Joel’s sudden reappearance could have anything to do with Carissa’s disappearance, do you?” Nathan asked.

Noelle looked at him, startled. “Like what?”

“Would kidnapping be out of the question?”

“Kidnapping!”

“At this point I don’t know, but having met Joel a few times, and knowing what he’s done to you in the past, I wouldn’t dismiss the possibility. From all accounts, he’s a vindictive scoundrel who should be rotting behind bars.”

She blinked at him, startled by his adamancy. “But Carissa? After six years? I don’t think that’s likely.” And yet, what if…?

She glanced at Nathan’s profile again. Nathan Trask had a kind nature, which was obvious in his expression, in the laugh lines around his eyes. He was also an attractive man, with a high, broad forehead, dark-green eyes, dark-brown hair that he kept short and combed back. Right now, his usual five o’clock shadow had nearly become a beard, and his facial lines were ones of weariness. He had good reason to be cranky.

“Maybe I should be driving,” she said.

“I’m okay. The coffee helped.”

Sitting back, she tried to relax, and again thought about last night. She shivered.

“Cold?” Nathan reached toward the console for the heat dial.

“I’m…fine.” She folded her arms over her chest and tried to let the passing roadside beauty calm her—the bright yellow splashes of goldenrod against the deep red of autumn sumac, highlighted by sprays of purple asters.

It was no use. Her mind wouldn’t stop whirling with questions.

“Noelle?” Nathan said at last.

“Hmm?”

“What else is going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

She gave him a look of aggravation. Nathan Trask had always possessed an irritating ability to read her mind. “Why would you say—”

“Just tell me, okay? I’m not in the mood to dig it out of you.”

“Okay, fine.” He really was a grump today. And she shouldn’t be saying this. It would only invite more questions and cause more worry. Could she trust him not to share too much with Jill? “It’s nothing, really. I had a little episode last night, probably from low blood sugar, since I haven’t been eating a lot, and didn’t—”

“What kind of episode?”

She had his complete attention now. “Watch the road, would you?”

“I’m watching the road. Tell me what happened.”

Rats. She knew he’d get upset. For a few more seconds she stared out at the colorful roadside. Like Jill, Nathan had the “older sibling” complex. He tended to be bossy, and from the time the first of his two younger sisters was born, he had also tried to boss Noelle even though she was his age, and a neighbor rather than a sibling. She’d established her boundaries with him when she was about five. She didn’t intend to have to do so again.

Still, it wasn’t totally disagreeable to have Nathan so concerned about her.

“Okay,” he conceded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. What happened? How did you feel?”

“I felt very concerned for no reason,” she said, then glanced at him to make sure he was watching the road again. “You know how it is when something occurs to you, that seems so real, as though God has spoken?”

He glanced at her again. “That’s a lot more than just nerves or blood sugar.”

“Joel’s arrival is definitely a stressor,” she said.

There was a pause, then Nathan asked, “What time, exactly, did it happen?”

She frowned at him.

He met her gaze briefly, then looked away. “This may have everything to do with Carissa.”

She thought so, too, but why would he?

He took a deep breath and exhaled, then combed his fingers through his hair. The morning sun shining in through the window showed the lines around his eyes and the evidence of his lack of sleep and his worry. “What time did you have the attack? You said it was last night—was it after dark?”

“It was just after closing time.”

“You close at eight—which means this happened about the same time Carissa disappeared.”

“Yes.” She didn’t want to go there. Not yet. It was too soon and she wasn’t ready.

“You know what I’m talking about.” He braked when a car cut in front of him. “It’s as if you somehow knew something had happened to Carissa.”

“You can’t be serious.” Hypocrisy will get you nowhere, Noelle Cooper.

He nodded. The tightness around his mouth revealed his determination. He was going to discuss the subject no matter what she said.

“Nathan, I’m not psychic. I’m surprised a former pastor like you would suggest such a thing.”

“No, not psychic. But you’ve always been able to perceive things others don’t,” he said. “I remember you had dreams several days before your mother died.”

“You remember that? We were seven.”

“You told me about it, and it stuck with me. It scared me, because every time you had a dream after that, I was afraid someone would die.”

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest. Growing up as country neighbors, she and Nathan had ridden horses and bikes, hiked, explored caves, and wandered over the extensive acreage of the combined Cooper and Trask properties. They’d done homework together when they were old enough for homework. She’d shared her thoughts and dreams with him, and he’d remembered, after all this time.

“So you do know what I’m talking about,” he said.

“Just because I had dreams before Mom died doesn’t mean anything.”

“Remember that orange-and-white kitten of mine that got lost when we were ten? I told you about it, and you went right to it. I’d looked for at least two hours, and you found it in five minutes.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. This was just great. She was stuck in a moving vehicle halfway to Hideaway with Nathan Trask, who seemed to be very much in the mood for an argument.

She pointed to a sign. “There’s your turn. Focus on your driving for a few minutes, will you?”

He shot her a quick glance that said, “This subject is only tabled, not closed,” but made the turn in silence.

Chapter Four

Ihave to think…have to get control! Where did she go? What if she knows it’s me? She could beat me to the house, she could tell the others that I tried to kill her!

But I didn’t kill her. I stopped myself. I can stop this if I try hard enough. I can keep the fear from controlling me.

She’s just lost in the cave somewhere, scared and alone. I need to go back and find her and take her home. Maybe if I stay with the others when this thing hits…when this slow, shifting spiral into terror strikes me…their presence might force me to control my actions.

Yes. I’ll have to find her. Everything will be okay.

Carissa won’t be able to find her way back without my help. I’m in control.

I can stay in control.

Nathan took a bypass around Branson’s busiest highway, increasingly aware that Noelle’s silent observation of the passing roadside was a sign that he’d struck a nerve. This new road had very little traffic, but he waited to speak, respecting her wish for silence, until they were on the far side of Branson.

“I wish you’d at least talk to me about it,” he said at last.