tremor shook the cavern, and larger boulders crashed around them. One struck her shoulder, knocking her to her knees. The man pulled her up, into his arms, and kept running, dodging the falling rock, taking the blows and moving on, always forward, toward freedom.
The cool night air washing over her brought tears to her eyes. She stared at the blurred stars overhead and choked back a sob. The first stars she’d seen in weeks. A taste of freedom she’d feared she might never know again.
“Can you walk?” the man asked, setting her on her feet, but keeping his arm firmly around her, supporting her.
She nodded. “I can.”
“Then, we’ve got to go. We’ve got to stop him.”
Hand in hand, they raced toward the castle situated improbably in the middle of the Colorado desert. She seemed to fly over the ground, her feet not touching it, only the firm grip of the man’s hand in hers anchoring her to the earth.
She heard the helicopter before she saw it, the steady whump! whump! of the rotors beating the air. Then they ascended a small hill and stared at the chopper lifting off, soaring into the pink clouds of dawn. No! she silently screamed.
* * *
LOUD, OUT-OF-TUNE CHIMES from the doorbell pulled Lauren from the dream—one she’d had too often in the weeks since her escape from the abandoned mine that had been her prison for almost a month. The details sometimes changed, but the results were the same as reality—her captor, Richard Prentice, escaping into the night as she watched, powerless.
“I don’t think she’s awake yet,” she heard her sister, Sophie, tell whoever was at the door.
Lauren struggled into a sitting position and checked the clock. Almost eleven. How had she slept so late? “I’m awake,” she called. “Give me a minute to get dressed.”
She threw back the covers and sat up. She was safe in the apartment she shared with her sister in Montrose, Colorado. The words of her rescuer still echoed from the dream. You’re strong. You can make it.
In the living room, she found Sophie with two other women. Emma Wade, a tall redhead who dressed to show off her curves in flowing skirts and high heels, stood beside Abby Stewart, a sweet grad student whose shoulder-length brown hair was cut to hide most of the scar on one cheek, the result of a wound she’d received while in the army in Afghanistan. The two women had befriended first Sophie, then Lauren, after the sisters’ arrival in Montrose.
“Sorry to disturb you, but we’ve got something here you need to see.” Emma handed Lauren a newspaper. “Maybe you’d better sit down before you read it.”
“What is it?” Sophie asked, and followed Lauren to the couch, where Lauren sat and focused on the newspaper, nausea quickly rising in her throat as she read the headline.
Former Top News Anchor Released read the headline on the small article in the Denver Post’s entertainment section.
Lauren Starling, twice voted most popular news anchor in the Post’s annual “best of” selections, has been released from her contract with station KQUE, effective immediately. Station president Ross Carmichael asked for the public’s support and understanding for Ms. Starling “at this difficult time. Lauren’s illness is affecting her ability to perform her job, so we thought it was in her best interest to release her from her obligations, to allow her time to seek treatment and recover,” he said.
In March of this year, Starling was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, following several incidences of erratic behavior on-air. She made headlines when she disappeared for several weeks in May and June, eventually turning up at a ranch owned by billionaire developer Richard Prentice. Starling has accused Prentice of kidnapping her, a charge he denies. He says he offered his home as a safe place for Starling, a longtime family friend, to heal and recover.
Starling’s former husband, actor Phillip Starling, also issued a statement regarding Starling’s accusations against Prentice. “Lauren hasn’t been herself for the past year,” he told this reporter. “Her wild accusations against Richard—a man we’ve both known for years—prove how unstable she has become. I hope for her sake she will seek treatment and I wish her all the best.”
Ms. Starling was unavailable for comment.
Lauren smoothed her hand over the paper, trying to hide the shaking. She could feel the eyes of the others on her. Were they searching for signs that she was finally cracking up? She was used to people looking at her. She’d been a cheerleader and a beauty queen, and had finally landed her dream job of prime-time news anchor at Denver’s number two station. She’d spent most of her life seeking and gaining attention.
But that was when the looks from others had been admiring, even envious. Now people regarded her with suspicion. The looks came attached to labels. She was “unstable” or “erratic” or “crazy.” She’d admitted she had a problem and gotten help, but instead of sympathy and understanding, she’d only earned suspicion. She didn’t know how to handle the stares anymore.
“Lauren, are you okay?”
Sophie, her sister, asked the question the rest of them had probably been wondering. Lauren fixed a bright smile on her face and tossed her head back, defiant. “I’m fine.”
“I’m so sorry,” Emma, who worked as a reporter for the Post, said. “I hated to be the bearer of bad news, but I didn’t want you hearing about it from someone who wasn’t a friend, either.”
“I can’t believe Phil would say something like that.” Sophie rubbed Lauren’s shoulder, just as she had when they were girls and Lauren had suffered a nightmare. “I never did like the guy.”
Lauren had loved Phil; maybe part of her still did. Handsome and charming, as outgoing as she was and a talented actor, Phil had seemed the perfect match for her. But maybe two big egos in a marriage hadn’t been a good idea. Or maybe he’d sensed something was broken in her long before she’d discovered the reason for her erratic mood swings and out-of-control emotions. When he’d finally come clean about cheating on her with a woman he worked with, she’d taken the news badly. Though in the end, that plunge into depression had led to the diagnosis and work to get her life under control.
“Prentice probably paid Phil off.” Abby scowled at the paper. “And now he’s using his influence to ruin your reputation.”
“So far he’s doing a pretty good job.” She flipped the paper over and started to fold it, but another headline caught her eye. “Oh, no!” she moaned.
“I didn’t want you to see that.” Emma tried to pull the paper away, but Sophie took it instead.
“‘Task Force Status in Jeopardy,’” Sophie read.
“‘Senator Peter Mattheson has called for a Senate hearing to consider disbanding the interagency task force responsible for solving crimes on public lands in the region around Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park. The task force, more commonly known as The Ranger Brigade, has successfully stopped a drug smuggling and human trafficking ring in the area as well as solved other less sensational crimes, but recently made headlines over charges of harassment brought by billionaire developer Richard Prentice. Prentice, not a stranger to controversies involving various government agencies, filed suit earlier this year against the Rangers, demanding seven billion dollars in damages.’”
“Don’t
