Chapter 17 - The Breaking Point
Rain pounded against the windshield as Joanna raced her station wagon down the dark rural highways toward her home. The autumn storm had knocked out power lines along the route, plunging the country roads into pitch-black darkness.
She tried calling her mother's cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail.
"Come on, Mom, pick up," Joanna pleaded, gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles ached.
When she finally pulled into her driveway, her heart stopped.
The front door of the house was standing wide open, swinging gently in the howling wind. The lights inside were completely out.
Joanna threw the car into park, grabbed a heavy flashlight from the glove compartment, and ran toward the house. "Mom! Maya! Lily!"
She burst through the front door. The living room was in shambles—lamps knocked over, picture frames shattered on the hardwood floor.
"Mom!" Joanna screamed, rushing toward the hallway.
She found Linda lying near the kitchen doorway, groaning softly, holding a bleeding wound on her temple.
"Mom! Oh my god!" Joanna dropped to her knees, supporting her mother’s head. "What happened?!"
"Derek..." Linda gasped, her eyes unfocused. "He... he came with another man... they took... they took the girls, Joanna..."
Panic, cold and suffocating, seized Joanna’s throat. "Where did they take them?!"
"The old mill..." Linda whispered weakly before losing consciousness. "By the river..."
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Joanna’s mind raced. The abandoned timber mill was three miles down the river road—a derelict structure that had been empty for decades. Derek had bought the surrounding acreage years ago as a real estate investment through one of his shell corporations.
She quickly dialed 911, leaving the phone beside her mother with the dispatcher on the line to send an ambulance, then grabbed her keys and ran back into the storm. She wasn't going to wait for the police. Not when her children were in the hands of a murderer.
