One Last Step Sarah Sutton (i read books TXT) 📖

without her keys, and without her gun, they were sitting ducks. Suddenly, the rope around Tara’s wrists was loose enough and she pulled her hands free.

“Do you know where he might’ve put my things?” she asked as she rubbed her wrists.

“I saw him walk to that other building, after,” the girl replied, referring to the bed and breakfast.

If Tara could just get hold of her gun, if she could just call Warren, and if she could just get her keys to get them all out of here, then they had a good chance of leaving there alive. She knew she had to go find them—it was their only chance.

“I have a plan,” she whispered, before peeling the duct tape off of the floor that the girl had ripped from her mouth. “Put this back on,” she whispered.

The girl’s face contorted into confusion and fear. “What? No,” she replied. “I’m not putting that back on. Why?”

There was no way Tara was going to allow this girl to follow her. She had to stay where they were. It’s where she would be safest. Tara would go after him, go after them both, as soon as she could find her weapon, and then her keys. The girl would just have to stay in the barn, her hands untied behind her back, her mouth taped shut. That way, if he came back in, he wouldn’t suspect anything from her, but if needed, she could still defend herself. However, Tara suspected and hoped that she wouldn’t even need to because he would notice Tara was gone and go look for her. She told the girl all of this and she nodded reluctantly. The girl understood, but she didn’t want to be left alone either. It was written all over her face.

“I won’t let him come back in here and hurt you,” Tara reassured her. “I’ll be watching him.”

The girl nodded again and took a deep breath before placing the tape back over her mouth. She was trusting Tara completely. And after she sat back down against the wall, her hands hidden behind her back, Tara gave her a quick squeeze. She was going to do whatever it took to save the girl and her sister. After Tara let go, she turned around toward the barn doors and quietly crept across the floor.

***

Tara crouched down on the side of the house. She could hear them, their voices floating through the crack in the window above her. They were in the kitchen. Tara knew, because she had peeked ever so slightly—lifting her eyes just over the windowsill. They hadn’t seen her. They were too deep in conversation. But Tara saw them—the man and the older woman—standing there by an island counter.

Tara’s gun, phone, and keys were placed in front of them. Everything she needed was right there, but getting to them would be the biggest obstacle. She needed for them to leave the room, and then she would push the window fully open, crawl through, and retrieve them. But for now, all she could do was sit and listen.

The man had just told the older woman that Tara was an FBI agent, and it suddenly made Tara feel oddly exposed, as if they could see her.

“You’re sure?” the old woman spoke with a taste of fear in her words.

The man let out a long frustrated sigh. “She had a badge! She’s an FBI agent.”

The old woman cursed under her breath and Tara could hear her pacing throughout the kitchen. They knew about her now. They knew who she was, and for the first time Tara noticed that her badge was gone. She had it in her pocket, but now she knew that he had taken it, along with everything else.

“I’ll take care of it,” he finally said.

It was clear what he meant. He was going to kill her, and her mind suddenly swirled to the barn, to the girls left alone, and she knew she didn’t have much time because he was going to head there next.

The woman started whimpering. “Why do you make it so hard to protect you? You don’t need to be doing this.”

Her crying grew louder until a slap sounded the air and the woman cried out in pain.

“Go in the other room!” he screamed at her.

She sniffled back her tears as her feet shuffled across the floor.

Tara lifted her eyes again, peering in just over the windowsill. The woman was moving into another room, but then she stopped in the doorframe and Tara darted her head down.

“What were we fighting about again?” the woman asked.

The man sighed. “Just get in the other room and put the TV on,” he replied through gritted teeth.

She hesitated, afraid to ask more. But then her footsteps were heard leaving the room.

It was strange, Tara thought. Through just a few short moments, the woman had shown a wide range of emotions. Her memory was clearly starting to go, but she had a warped perception of judgment. She did know what her son was up to. And while she didn’t like it, she wasn’t going to let him get caught either, and her son was taking full advantage of it.

Tara looked up again. The man was the only person in the room, his back facing Tara’s vision. He was transfixed on the island counter as if in deep thought. But then he reached for Tara’s gun, holding it in his hand until he brought it to eye level and took aim in front of him.

It was as if he were in target practice, but he never pulled the trigger. Instead, he just took aim at different objects throughout the room, until he let out a sinister laugh and placed the gun back down where it was.

Seconds later he walked out of the room, leaving Tara’s gun behind. She waited until she could hear him speaking with his mother in the front end of the house, before ascending the stairs.

Tara knew she didn’t have much time. It