Claws and Feathers Page 3

  Cooper stood up, his interest piqued. This could certainly be a crime driven by financial gain. If so, the chances of Abby still being alive had just gone up substantially. “Was she seeing anyone? Boyfriend?”

  Daphne shook her head, her strawberry stained hair bobbing over her shoulders. “No. I mean, I don’t think so. She was with this guy, Jordan, for a million years, but then he cheated on her. I’m pretty sure the breakup, combined with her grandma dying, was why she got the hell out of dodge.”

  So, it was unlikely a crime of passion, but he couldn’t rule it out. He just didn’t know enough about Abigail Stone yet. Was there a secret romance? A salacious love affair with a married man? Everything was in question. He also couldn’t rule out a crime of opportunity – though, a violent transient passing through Crow’s Peak was dubious at best.

  Cooper ran a hand through his tousled hair. He desperately needed a haircut, but he hardly had time to sleep, let alone indulge in the finer things in life such as personal grooming. He scratched at his stubbled jaw, reminding himself he needed to shave as well. “Are you able to give me her ex’s last name and any information you have on him?”

  Daphne nodded.

  “And let me know if you think of anything else,” Cooper continued. “I’m going to compare notes with Walker and see if we can catch some leads.”

  Daphne halted him, wrapping her cranberry claws around his upper arm. “Cooper…”

  Cooper turned to face her, noticing the softening of her usually stubborn features.

  “Look, I know we have our differences. I don’t even really like you,” she said.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Thanks.”

  “But you’re a real good cop. And Abby’s my friend. I know if anyone can find her… you can.”

  Cooper dipped his head agreeably before turning to leave.

  He wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe that so damn bad. But Cooper was well-versed with the odds. He knew that when pretty girls go missing, they don’t always turn up. And if they do, it’s often in a ditch, or in the woods, or in a shallow grave.

  Cooper shuddered, his mind conjuring up all sorts of morbid scenarios. He didn’t enjoy it – no, it was simply something he had to do: prepare for the worst and hope for the best. It was a solid motto.

  It was a cop’s motto.

  Where are you, Abigail Stone?

  Chapter Three

  T W O W E E K S L A T E R

  She heard something. A muddled choir of gibberish. Broken, fractured sounds. Abby felt like she was deep underwater; drowning, spinning, flailing.

  Voices.

  Gargled and clipped. She blinked slowly, her eyes accustomed to only seeing darkness. The Man had not been back in five days. He had left her there to die – to starve to death. To wither and wilt and rot away. It was not the way she had anticipated going. The Man had threatened her every day since she’d been locked up in this prison, so she knew she was going to die – but not like this.

  Never like this.

  The Man was sometimes calm, sometimes wrathful, but his words of warning never faltered.

  “Tomorrow you will die, Little Bird.”

  Each day – each agonizing, dragging day – Abby would wait. She had no other choice but to wait. She would wait for him to come back to her, and in some twisted way, she would look forward to his arrival. He was her only source of human contact; her lifeline. If he didn’t come back, she would fade away. Somehow, that seemed worse than being shot, or stabbed, or strangled. Feeling the life slowly drain out of her was undoubtedly more horrifying than anything else she could imagine. And, oh, did she imagine. She imagined awful, vile things.

  But this was worse.

  The Man wouldn’t say much to her – though, he often talked to himself. He spent most of their time together working up the courage to kill her. It was an unusual feeling, observing her kidnapper talk himself into murdering her. It was terrifying. And yet, there were moments when she had begged him to just do it. To get it over with. To put an end to her suffering and unknowns. It would be easier that way.

  He never could.

  Sometimes he would become angry with himself, furious he was unable to snuff out her life, and he’d beat her instead. Her last beating had been five days ago when The Man had given her water and a few slices of deli meat before disappearing for good. Abby had devoured her meager meal with voracity, unsure if she’d ever taste salt on her tongue again. At first, she was grateful for it, but then she’d wondered if he had only been prolonging her life so she’d suffer longer.

  Abigail.

  There was that voice again. It was saying her name. It didn’t sound like The Man, but she couldn’t be certain. She couldn’t be certain of anything.

  Knock twice if you’re in there, Abby.

  Was this a delusion? She’d had many of those. Her parents had been by her side, feeding her soup, and assuring her she’d be well enough to go to school tomorrow. The mirage had faded as quickly as it had appeared, and Abby had crumbled into tearless sobs.

  She tried to say something, but only a wretched squeak passed through her lips.

  Knock twice.

  Abby lifted one of her hands. It felt like it was being weighed down by a tremendous boulder. Yet, she found an ounce of strength and tapped her knuckles against the steel siding.

  Once. Twice.

  The next few minutes were a blur as she lay slumped over and shackled to the floor, waiting for whatever happened next. When the two double doors were pulled open, she squeezed her eyes shut. There was a blazing spotlight shining right on her, confusing her, blinding her. It singed her fragile irises. For a quick and discerning moment, she missed the darkness.

  There were footsteps. Careful, deliberate footsteps. They were approaching her. Abby curled her body tightly into itself the best she could.

  “Abby.”

  That voice. She recognized that voice. It embraced her like a tender hug, and her body instinctively relaxed. She wanted to open her eyes to see his face, but she couldn’t. The light was too bright – it was too much.

  “Abby. It’s Officer McAllister with the Crow’s Peak Police Department. You’re safe now.”

  His words sounded far away, but she felt his presence. She felt his life radiating into her, making her warm again. Abby tried to reply, but nothing came out.

  “Are you with me, Abby?”

  She knocked twice.

  Oh, hell.

  Cooper fell to his knees, cradling Abby’s head in his lap as Officer Holmes cut through her ankle chains with bolt cutters. He ran his hands through her dirty hair, feeling her shake and tremble beneath his touch. “It’s okay. You’re okay now.” There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, mixed with unrivaled relief. Every breath she took was a second chance. Every quiver was a respite. Every blink was a thank God. “Is he still here, Abby? Is he armed?”

  Officer Kravitz poked his head in. “All clear!”

  The bastard got away.

  The moment Abby’s ankles were freed, and the ropes around her wrists were cut loose, Cooper scooped her up into his arms and stood. It felt like one of those slow-motion, cinematic moments as he carried her out of the van, his fellow officers watching with both shock and awe. Cooper glanced down at her face. Colorful bruises adorned her eyes and cheekbones. Her lips were chapped and tinged purple. Her cheeks were blanched and hollow. She was so frail – so unlike the vivacious woman he had met two weeks ago.

  Abby’s eyelids fluttered, then snapped shut, rejecting the sunlight. She tried again, squinting thoughtfully through sunken eyes. Her brows creased together, and she looked at him, her body lying limp in his arms. “It’s you.”

  It’s you. He never thought he’d see her again. Cooper pulled her closer to his chest as they approached the ambulance, and Abby, in turn, found enough strength to wrap her arms around his neck. The gesture becalmed him.

  A gurney was waiting for them across the wetlands as he traipsed through the
sedges and tall grass. Cooper’s eyes lowered to the woman he was carrying, and she blinked up at him, her own eyes finally adjusting to the light of day. “We’re going to get you to the hospital,” he told her gently, watching as new emotions splayed across her fragile features.

  Abby clung to him when Cooper began to release his hold. “No. Don’t leave me.” Her voice was raspy and desperate. She clutched even tighter. “Please.”

  Jesus. Cooper felt his insides swell with something he couldn’t quite explain. “You’re safe,” he said. “I promise.”

  “No, no, no.” Abby dug her fingernails into the back of his neck, burrowing her face into the crook of his armpit. Her body was tense, her grip unrelenting. “Don’t let me go.”

  James Walker was at his side, attempting to untangle her from Cooper’s arms. “You’re in good hands, Miss Stone. Officer McAllister will meet you at the hospital shortly.”

  “No!”

  James, along with one of the EMT’s, peeled the traumatized woman out of Cooper’s grip as he watched helplessly. Goddamn, this was hard. Her eyes were wild and full of panic as they lowered her onto the gurney and strapped her in. Cooper linked his fingers behind his head, his jaw clenching in reaction to her fear. She needed him. Abby needed him. He was likely the first face she’d seen after two weeks of being some madman’s prisoner. He was, essentially, her hero. Cooper sighed, knowing she was finally safe as they wheeled her into the ambulance, and the doors closed her in.

  He shared a glance with his partner. “Sorry,” Cooper said. He cleared his throat to reel in the wayward emotions that had him rattled. “I guess I kind of froze.”

  James reached out a hand to squeeze Cooper’s shoulder. “They don’t train you for this shit. They couldn’t.” His gaze lingered, firm and poignant, before he turned towards his patrol car.

  The ambulance lit up and pulled away from the isolated marsh as his team continued to examine the van. Cooper followed James, his line of sight still fixed on the ambulance. The sirens echoed right through him, mingling with the remnants of her cries.

  No. There was no training in the world that could prepare him for Abigail Stone.

  “Where is she?” Daphne raced through the hospital waiting room, her high heels clinking against the tile floor as she approached the main desk.

  Cooper tossed his empty coffee cup into the trash can when he spotted her. “She’s stable,” he said, sauntering over to the frazzled redhead. “She has a long road ahead.”

  Daphne raised a hand to her heart, bunching the fabric of her pantsuit between her fist. “My God. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe any of this.” She plopped down into a nearby chair and clutched her purse. “Did you catch the bastard who did this to her?”

  He gave her a dispirited shake of his head, then ran his fingers through his thick hair. Whoever kidnapped and tortured Abby had either abandoned the van and his victim, or he’d conveniently been absent during the search and rescue. “No, but we will.”

  “How can you be sure?” she asked with incredulous exasperation.

  Cooper’s eyes narrowed. His mind flashed to the moment those van doors swung open and he saw her. The sun had cast such a cheerful light upon her – a beacon of hope. A promise of brighter days ahead. Abby had survived. And yet, her body lay crumpled, her spirit shattered. She had survived, but she was far from alive. Someone would have to pay for that. “Because it’s my job,” he told her, his tone unshakeable. Resolute. “I won’t stop until I find him.”

  Daphne softened and lowered her gaze. “She’s been through so much, you know? Losing her parents, her grandma. Her brother skipping out on her, her boyfriend cheating on her… I mean, how much can one person take? It doesn’t seem fair.”

  Fair. What a ridiculous word. What a falsity.

  “Officer McAllister?”

  Cooper turned around to find a raven-haired woman in scrubs nodding her head at him, beckoning him to follow. She led him down the hospital corridor, then paused when they reached a quiet location. He crossed his arms and waited.

  “I’m Doctor Everett. Sheila Everett,” she greeted, holding a clipboard to her chest. “Miss Stone is responding well to treatment and is expected to make a full recovery. She’s been through a hell of a lot.”

  His eyes darted to one of the closed curtains across from them. “Is she awake?”

  “She’s awake, but heavily medicated,” Dr. Everett replied. “She suffered a nasal fracture, cracked ribs, and was severely dehydrated. She’s lucky you found her when you did, or the woman would have died of dehydration.”

  Cooper felt a shiver crawl up his spine. “Was she sexually assaulted?”

  The doctor shook her head. “We found no evidence of rape or sexual assault. Your perp had a different motive in mind.”

  Thank God. He had to take the wins wherever he could. “Can I see her?” Cooper’s own question took him off guard. He felt a distinct draw to her. An inherent pull. “Is she well enough?”

  Dr. Everett drew her lips into a thin line. “Normally, I’d say no. But she asked for you.”

  Cooper furrowed his brow, taken aback by the sentiment.

  “I’d go easy on the questions. She’ll need more time before you interrogate her.”

  “Of course.” Cooper followed the doctor across the hall, his boots thumping in time with his heartbeat.

  Dr. Everett pulled back the curtain and tipped her head toward the small room. “You can buzz the nurse if you need anything.”

  He nodded, then shifted his eyes forward, landing on the woman lying beneath mint green bed covers. Cooper hesitated in the entryway when a lump lodged in the back of his throat. She looked so broken; so defeated.

  “Hi,” she said softly.

  Abby didn’t look at him – in fact, she didn’t move at all. She was resting on her back, her head tilted slightly to the right, and her gaze fixated on nothing at all.

  Cooper cautiously approached, his thumbs hooked on his outer vest. “Hey,” he replied. She was hooked up to IVs and various machines. He could feel the warmth coming from her heated blanket, quelling the chill that was hovering in the room. He pulled a chair over to her bedside and sat down. Cooper parted his lips to speak, but words suddenly escaped him. What could he possibly say?

  How are you?

  You look better.

  I’m sorry.

  God. What a bunch of tripe.

  Abby broke through his weave of jagged thoughts with a timid voice. “He called me ‘Little Bird’.”

  Cooper frowned. “Does that mean anything to you?”

  She shook her head, her eyes still aimed at the wall.

  “Did you recognize this man, Abby? Was there anything familiar?” He didn’t want to overwhelm her with questions, but he needed something. Anything.

  Abby finally met his gaze with stormy blue eyes. “Nothing,” she said. “He was a stranger.”

  He sighed in defeat. Cooper would get more details later, but at least he could narrow down his search to eliminate friends and relatives. The Withered Man seemed to have no connection to Abigail Stone. Maybe this was a random event, after all.

  Then why did he call her ‘Little Bird’? The nickname sounded personal. Although, the man certainly could have been having a psychotic episode – maybe he was having delusions, and this was a case of mistaken identity. Maybe Abby reminded him of someone else.

  Cooper studied the woman in front of him. Her stringy, ash blonde hair lay splayed out over the pillowcase. Her hospital gown had slipped down over her shoulder, revealing a bony collarbone dappled in dark bruises. She had lost a substantial amount of weight over the last two weeks. She looked frail. As light as a feather.

  And yet, she was strong as hell.

  He closed his eyes and swallowed, still trying to find an appropriate string of words. “We’re going to catch him, Abby. I promise.”

  Cooper couldn’t give her much, but he could give her hope.

  Abby reached out her hand, tem
perate and soft, and placed it on top of his. He looked up to find her eyes on him, something poignant simmering behind her indigo pools. Cooper clenched his teeth together in response to her touch. Something swept right through him, something he couldn’t begin to describe.

  “Thank you.”

  Her tone was gentle, yet unwavering. Cooper watched as her eyes darted across his face. He wondered if she was searching for something, or if she was simply overjoyed to see another human being. He nodded his head. “You don’t need to thank me. I was just doing my job.”

  A job. Yes, this was a job, just like he’d told Daphne. It had to be. There could be no attachment.

  Not again. Not like Maya.

  Abby seemed to flinch at that, and she pulled her hand away, interlocking her fingers over her stomach. “How did you find me?” She was looking just over his shoulder again.

  “He was at the bar that night.” Cooper rewound the last two weeks in his mind like an old VHS tape. “I remembered him. There was something about him. He left without paying his tab and I memorized part of his license plate. After checking surveillance from the gas station off the main drag, I saw the van head out of town when he left, then come back two hours later, then head back out of town again. I put an APB out on the van and we finally got a hit.”

  It was likely more than she needed to know, but Cooper had to stay level-headed. Focusing on the logistics and facts always seemed to help.

  “Do you think he was waiting for me? Do you think… he chose me for a reason?” Abby pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, a mask of fear washing over her face.

  “I was hoping that was something you could tell me.”

  The truth was, he had no answers for her. Not yet. He had a physical description and a stolen van. He was hoping forensics would point him in a clearer direction.

  Abby shifted under the bed covers, her tongue poking out to moisten her chapped lips. “It was dark,” she said dolefully. Tears began to coat her eyes. “It was always so dark.”