Page 281 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass

“Molls?” Brad was out of the Tahoe and running before Nate fully engaged the brake. “Molly!”

Nate put the Tahoe in Park and hurried out with Dad by his side, torn between searching for Callie and seeing to his sister while Winston ran back and forth between the front and back seats of the vehicle, honking the horn.

Brad crouched down next to her, checking for a pulse. “She’s alive but she’s cold—probably mildly hypothermic.” He rolled Molly carefully, protecting her neck with his gentle movement. “Looks like a head injury—contusion to the temple.”

She groaned.

“It’s okay, Molls.” Brad picked her up, cradling her and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Nate’s relief quickly vanished as he started toward the house, spotting the pies Callie had worked so hard to make lying in a mess in the doorway and the red stains of the cherries in the snow reminding him of blood. He let Winston out of the car, watching the dog book it into the woods. Nate pulled his gun and followed, praying that their dog was as brilliant as Callie insisted he was.

~~~~

Callie ran deeper into the forest—farther into the darkness—her destination Mansion Row. She batted at pine boughs and denuded branches, doing what she could to protect her face from the worst of the pokes and scrapes of the sharp twigs. Help was less than two miles away for herself and Molly—her friend she’d left helpless and alone in the deepening snow. Determined to make it—to save them both—she moved faster, straining her ears and listening for any noises that might apprise her to Matthew and Thomas’s approach, but all she heard was her own frantic breathing with every hurried step.

The wind blew another brutal gust, and she cringed, clenching and unclenching her hands, realizing that she was losing feeling in her fingers—that she was shivering and freezing despite the adrenaline surging through her system, spurring her on. She tracked her gaze around her unfamiliar surroundings, wanting to stop—to take just a second and gather her bearings. She’d never been this far out in the woods before, but she kept moving, knowing that slowing down was a sure-fire death sentence. And she wasn’t dying today. There was too much to live for: Nate was in danger; Molly needed Brad; and her mother deserved justice after twenty-two years.

Currently, she had the advantage. She was younger and faster, and the wool boots she wore were better suited to the snow than the dress shoes her counterparts were wearing. She hurtled a fallen log, faltering when she heard a twig snapping somewhere behind her. Another branch broke to her distant left, and she whimpered, picking up her pace and tossing a look over her shoulder, searching for the source. Facing forward again, she lost her footing as she tripped on a root. She gasped as she fell and her knee connected with something hard and painful beneath the blanket of fluffy white. Gaining her feet, she winced, moving much slower as her knee throbbed in time with the frantic beating of her heart.

They were close—waiting for her to move into their death trap. Having no idea whether she was nearing Highway 1 or not, she hobbled to a thick tree, pressing herself up against the rough bark, praying that she wouldn’t be seen—that they would pass her by—

Someone grabbed her from behind, yanking her against their body and covering her mouth with their big hand before she could scream. “Be quiet,” Matthew demanded in a harsh whisper next to her ear.

She fought him, elbowing and kicking, trying to break free, but he overpowered her, holding her feet off the ground as he gripped her around her waist.

“Stop,” Matthew whispered again, tightening his hold on her. “Thomas is going to find us if you don’t.”

She struggled to breathe, hating that she couldn’t help but cry and tremble when all she wanted to do was claw and fight.

“Nate can’t be far away,” Matthew continued. “He has to be looking for you by now. We need to reverse directions if we’re going to get you to him.”

Her eyes darted around as she listened to Matthew’s words, confused and trying to figure out what was going on.

“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth but you can’t scream, Callie. Thomas is unstable and dangerous—suffering from some sort of psychotic break.”

She nodded frantically, willing to play along—to say and do whatever she needed to to get away from the shadow man.

He removed his hand and loosened his grip.

She whirled, pushing him and taking off in an awkward run, distancing herself by several steps before Matthew caught her again. “No!”

“Callie—”

“You killed her.” She pulled away from him, backing up, keeping one hand out behind her to prevent herself from connecting with a tree and becoming completely trapped. “You and Thomas killed my mother.”

“I didn’t kill her, Callie. I helped you.”

She shook her head, refusing to believe him. She didn’t remember Matthew helping her—only that her mother had been bleeding and dead and he’d picked her up in the dark.

He took a step toward her. “Let me help you again.”

She shook her head more adamantly, trembling so violently it was getting harder to speak—to walk. “You don’t want to help me. You want to get me on Thomas’s boat.”

“I’m not going to let him take you on the boat.” He took off his jacket, holding it out to her. “You’re freezing—going hypothermic.”

She snatched the jacket away, putting it on and zipping herself into the warmth because she knew it was the truth. She couldn’t save herself and Molly if she was too cold to move.

“Callie, you have to trust that I didn’t hurt your mother—that I have no intention of hurting you now.”