Sula grabbed her toothbrush, makeup, and shampoo and threw them into a little travel kit. She caught sight of her bruised face and leaned into the mirror to examine the gash on her temple. The skin was puckered together to close the stitches and she knew she would have a scar. It was minor, she reminded herself. She could have been horribly disfigured.
Had Rudker meant to kill her? Instead of fading as she thought it would, her fear intensified. Would he try again? Sula cursed herself for leading the bastard to Tate. If he hadn’t threatened her son, she would have told that detective everything.
A scoffing sound escaped her throat as she reached for her moisturizer. What good would that have done? Would he have believed her? It all sounded so crazy. The police certainly had no power to protect her. They only acted after the fact. Women were murdered every day by ex-husbands and boyfriends who had already threatened and assaulted them. Until Rudker was convicted in court and incarcerated, he would be free to harass her. She was on her own, and for the first time in her life, Sula considered buying a gun.
She clicked off the bathroom light, stepped into the hall, and moved toward her bedroom. She noticed the door was open about foot. Had she left it that way? She always closed doors, cabinets, and drawers. But she had bolted out of here in such a hurry that morning, thinking she was late for her visitation, that she had probably left it like that. That sort of paranoid thinking was why she had to grab her clothes and get out the house for a while. She pushed open the door, stepped in, and flipped on the light.
The smell of cinnamon tickled the air. Before Sula had a chance to process what that meant, the back of her head exploded in pain. For a moment, her world went dark, then her legs buckled. She landed on her knees, sending another jolt to her brain. The room came back into semi-focus as she fell forward against the edge of the bed.
She brought her arms up to push back from the mattress, but a massive weight fell against her back, pinning her down. As she cried out, a thick sweaty hand pressed against her mouth.
Rudker!
His cinnamon breath was hot against her neck. Sula tried to jerk her head free, but stabbing pains from both sides of her skull weakened her. The pressure of his hand lifted for a split second, then he pressed a wide piece of tape across her mouth and cheeks.
Bile rose in her throat as panic overtook her. She snapped her head back as hard as she could, hoping to make contact with bone. Instead she hit his chest with a soft thump. He grunted and continued his assault. He grabbed both of her arms at the elbows and jerked them behind her back. Her broken collarbone shrieked in agony. Sula thought she might vomit.
Suddenly the pressure of his weight eased as he leaned away from her. Sula seized the moment and threw herself sideways, pulling free of his grip. Blind from the raging pain in her head, she crawled frantically toward the corner of the room.
Rudker grabbed her ankles and dragged her back. He pressed his knee against her lower spine, trapping her against the floor. His thick hands encircled her forearms and pulled them together behind her back. Pain engulfed her and Sula blacked out for a second. As she came to, Rudker was taping her wrists together.
For a moment, there was calm. Sula pulled air in through her nose trying to get enough oxygen, while Rudker made wet noisy breathing sounds. His weight lifted again as he moved down to her feet. With a heave, she flipped over on her back. Before Rudker could grab her ankles, Sula kicked up and landed a blow to his chin.
“Bitch!” Rudker cupped his chin with both hands. Sula tried to scoot away, but with her hands pinned under her, it was impossible. She saw him reach in his pocket and draw his arm back. Something came down on her forehead with the force and feel of a hammer.
The room swirled and Sula blacked out.
Rudker quickly wrapped a strip of tape around Sula’s ankles. She had fought more than he’d expected, but the struggle had given him an adrenaline rush that was making him giddy. When she’d crawled away and he had to drag her back by the feet, Rudker had flashed back to the girl fights in Seattle. Now he was turned on, but not exactly in a sexual way. It was a rush unlike anything he’d experienced before.
He considered leaving her for a few minutes while be brought the Jeep around and parked in the driveway, then decided not to. It could be devastating if a neighbor saw his vehicle -and license number-in Sula’s driveway on the night of her disappearance.
He would carry her out through the side yard, hidden behind a good-sized fence. The only time the two of them would be visible was for less than half a block on the side street. If he kept her upright at his side and moved quickly, the risk of exposure would be minimal. Rudker hoped the girl would stay unconscious for the trip to the vehicle. He didn’t doubt his ability to carry her that far, but if she struggled, it would be cumbersome, to say the least.
He glanced around the bedroom to see if he had lost anything out of his pockets during the struggle. Nothing seemed out of place, but he got on his knees and checked under the bed just in case. There wasn’t even much dust.
Satisfied that he’d left no evidence, Rudker squatted next to Sula and scooped her up and over his shoulder. He was surprised at how heavy she seemed for such a thin girl. Breathing harder than he liked, he left the house the way he’d come in, through the kitchen and garage, then out the side door into the fenced yard.
Adrenaline rushed through his torso as he stepped into the night with an unconscious woman over his shoulder. It was a shame he would never be able to tell this story to anyone. He closed the door behind him and set off across the wet grass. Furious barking suddenly filled the air. The back fence popped and shuddered as a massive, unseen dog threw itself against the barrier. Rudker began to run.
Near the gate, he stumbled and pitched forward. With Sula’s added weight, he almost went down. Rudker grunted as he caught himself. The dog continued to bark.
Go back in the house. Kill her here.
Rudker hesitated. Maybe he should. Why risk taking her in the Commander and maybe being seen? Because he wanted to hide the body. That was the safest move.
He opened the gate, then slid Sula down to his side and gripped her tightly with both arms. Her face fell against his as he started down the sidewalk. Silky jasmine-scented hair fluttered into his mouth. If not for the barking dog, Rudker would have been aroused by her proximity. Walking with her hugged against him was strenuous and awkward. He had to take short steps and hold her weight with his arms. After a moment, his lungs hurt from the exertion.
As he reached his vechicle, a woman’s voice called to the dog. “Quiet, Maxie.” The woman’s presence was worse than the dog’s. Would she step out to see who was lurking?
Rudker stopped next to the car door and wondered how he would take his keys out of his pocket without setting Sula down. At that moment, her body stiffened and she began to squirm. Oh shit. She was conscious. The neighbor called to the dog again, sounding closer this time.
Rudker let go of Sula with one arm and grabbed for his keys. She twisted away from him and dropped to the sidewalk. Instinctively, he pushed a foot into her stomach to keep her from rolling away. He pressed his electronic lock and grabbed the back door handle. The car alarm wailed.
Jesus H. Christ. Rudker jerked open the rear door, then grabbed his squirming cargo. With an adrenaline-powered thrust, he heaved Sula into the back seat and slammed the door. As he turned, the neighbor woman opened her gate and peeked out to see who was making the horrible commotion.
Rudker quickly jumped into the driver’s seat. Shoving his key into the ignition, he silenced the alarm.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. I told you to kill her in the house.
“Shut up!”
Behind him, Sula moaned.
Rudker locked the doors and cranked the engine. He couldn’t believe he’d set off the car alarm. Everything had gone smoothly up to that point. It must have been the barking dog, working on his nerves. Fucking dog. He hoped it choked to death on its own abundent drool. He drove away without looking back.
His nerves felt like a bowl of snap, crackle, and pop. He hadn’t felt this charged since his college days, before he started taking meds. After a moment, he caught sight of the speedometer and realized he was doing forty in a residential area. He slowed and hung a left. If the neighbor had called the police about stranger danger, it was in his best interest to stay off the main thoroughfares and alter his course frequently. Rudker turned left again and began to hum.
Sula couldn’t get enough air into her lungs through just her nose. The lack of oxygen cut into her brain and made it hard to think. Still, she had to stay alert, to plan. She had to figure a way out of this. She couldn’t let the son of a bitch kill her and dump her body like trash. He was insane. How could she not have seen it?
The rig made a wild swing and Sula nearly rolled onto the floor. Her feet went over, but she managed to keep her torso on the seat. From that position she was able to get on her knees, then twist around and sit up. The activity made her head pound, reminding her of the blows she’d taken to her forehead and left ear. What did he have planned next?
Sula considered the vehicle door. It was most likely locked, and even if not, she didn’t think she could get it open with her hands taped behind her back. She twisted and pulled on her wrist binding, but it was as unyielding as ever. She decided her best option was to interfere with his driving, maybe make him crash and draw someone’s attention. She decided to head butt him from behind.
As she scooted forward into position, the Jeep made another sharp turn. Sula rocked sideways but managed to right herself. Rudker’s eyes caught hers in the rear view mirror. His were smiling. Sula looked away, so he would not see her intent. If she got the opportunity, she would kill the bastard.
As they passed block after block of dark houses, she tried to figure out where they were. Without streetlights, it was difficult, but that meant they were on a side street. She recognized a giant sequoia tree and knew they were traveling west on 20th Avenue. Rudker suddenly pulled into a driveway and stopped.
He crouched in the space between the front seats and faced her. Then he grabbed her shoulders with his huge hands. She tried to twist away, but it was futile effort. She was a hundred pounds lighter, wounded, and trussed. With a small push, he flattened her against the seat. Sula’s face pressed into the cool leather. She felt him groping around under her. He was looking for the seat belt.
Sula tried to roll toward the floor, but with her hands and feet bound, she had no strength. Rudker held her firmly in place. His hand came off her back long enough to loop the seat belt around her chest and snap it closed. Despair washed over her. She was completely captive and headed toward certain death.
Now that he had Sula bound and gagged in the back of his vehicle, Rudker knew he had to crystallize the rest of his plan. For the last few hours, he’d been operating on rage and impulse. He’d taken a few precautions about leaving evidence, but those were all common sense. The most important move was what to do with the body. He had already made the basic decision not to leave it in the house. Ideally, he wanted it to never be found. Without a body, there would be no investigation.
He drove slowly out 18th Avenue, thinking about his options.
The night belonged to him; the rest of the city slept, unaware and unconcerned. He could drive up Wolf Creek, take off down a logging road, and hike into the woods a half mile or so. How long would it take to dig a hole big enough? If he didn’t bury her deep enough, a wolf or coyote would eventually scatter her bones. If he didn’t go far enough off the road, a logger or hiker could stumble on the freshly turned earth in the middle of the forest.
Rudker hated going into the woods. His sense of direction was inadequate and he was easily disoriented without recognizable landmarks. He’d quit Boy Scouts rather than go camping, and he had never hunted or hiked anywhere. What choice did he have now? He didn’t want this body to turn up, ever. That was the best way to protect himself. Women disappeared all the time. Those who turned up dead were investigated. Those who didn’t were forgotten.
Soon he passed Bertelsen Road and Rudker realized on some subconscious level he was headed for Prolabs. Then it hit him. The construction site. The new factory’s foundation had been dug and the forms were built. Tomorrow or the next day, the cement trucks would roll in and start the pour. Piece by piece, the walls would go up. Whatever was in the ground underneath would stay there as long as the building remained. The whole area was freshly turned dirt. A grave site would not be noticed in the twenty-four hours.
Rudker laughed out loud. Sula would be buried forever under a factory that produced Nexapra. A fitting end for a naive fool. It had been a long time since he’d let anyone get the best of him, and this little bitch should never have tried.
Remember Charlie Long from eighth grade? He used to kick your ass, steal your math homework, and put his name on it. Maybe we should look him up and set things right.
Rudker laughed again. What a thought. To go back and get even with everyone who had ever crossed him. It didn’t necessarily have to be a violent revenge, just appropriately painful. Emotional or financial blows could be even more effective. He would start with Tara and give it some creative thought.
The tape across her mouth only covered part of her face and had not been pressed tightly. Sula discovered the more she wiggled her jaws, the looser it became. When her jaws got tired, she rubbed her face against the smooth leather seat. She started vigorously, but it made her head hurt and emitted tiny little squeaks that she feared would draw Rudker’s attention. She settled into a slow, steady rhythm. The movement was strangely soothing and helped keep her calm.
Sula still didn’t have a plan for what she would do when she had finally worked the tape loose. At the moment, bound and buckled the way she was, all she could do was scream. And screaming inside the vehicle was pointless. It would only earn another blow to her head and more tape across her mouth. She would wait until they reached their destination-wherever the hell that was-and watch for an opportunity.
After a while the combination of the motion and the pain made her nauseated. Stomach acid came up into her esophagus and scared her. Vomiting with her mouth taped could be suffocating. She held still and waited for the sick feeling to pass. The sense of being in the car and being scared and trying not to be sick brought back a vivid memory from her childhood.
Her family was on the way to the reservation to visit Aunt Serena. Dad was driving, mom was in the front next to him, and she and Calix were in back-singing, chatting, and counting cars of a certain color. Sula always picked red. She and her sister paid no attention to their parents’ conversation until they heard the tension. Then they half tuned in, picking up what they could while continuing their own chatter. Experience had taught them that becoming silent drew the tension their way.
Her parents argued about Daddy’s job. He said he had to quit. “It’s killing me,” he whined. Her mother was unmoved. She said “no” and “not again” and “we’ll starve.” Back and forth they went until Dad finally shouted, “I’ll kill us all, right here and now, and get it over with. It’ll be better than the slow death we’re living.”
The old station wagon shot ahead and unexpectedly, they were zooming along, faster and faster. Mother screamed at her father to stop. Sula’s stomach heaved and churned. She tried to be still, but before she could call out or roll down her window, she vomited right into her own lap, right into the pretty yellow dress she’d worn for the occasion.
Calix began to cry and yell at Daddy. Then it was over. The car slowed and they stopped on the side of the road. Mother helped her clean up with the jug of water they’d brought along to put in the radiator because it leaked. Daddy said he was sorry for scaring everyone. It was not first time she’d heard the apology. Nor would it be the last.
Sula pushed the memory aside before it triggered others. She had to stay focused, to keeping working the tape and be ready for any opportunity.