by Rita Herron
She’d heard the stories Lenora had told in that fucking courtroom. She hadn’t believed her best friend back then. Or maybe she had, but she’d been so delicate she hadn’t been able to stand listening.
He would show her exactly what he’d done to Lenora. Make her a believer before he killed her.
She kicked at him as he carried her down the stairs, the cold, drafty walls rattling. The wind whistled through the eaves, dust motes swirling in front of his eyes as he plowed down the steps.
Nan was heavier than Lenora, a fighter, too.
That would make it more fun.
But he wanted Lenora here for the party to watch him take his pleasure from her friend.
Nan squirmed and wiggled, kicking and trying to elbow him, but he kicked open the door to one of the rooms and tossed her inside. Her body clunked as it hit the concrete floor, a grunt of pain escaping her.
Darkness bathed the room, the light snuffed out by a lack of windows, the musty scent of age, rotting wood and dead animal so strong that he paused to inhale it.
Home sweet home. Just like when he was young.
He was tempted to stay here and keep Nan company tonight, but he had other plans. He had to find his second victim quickly.
Then it would be time for Lenora to join them.
Hand on his cock, rubbing, stroking, he limped toward Nan, his shoes scraping the concrete.
She shook her head wildly, her eyes huge with horror and denial. He removed the burner phone from his pocket, then punched in Lenora’s phone number. Adrenaline sped through his veins as he waited on her to answer.
One ring. Two. Three.
“Come on, my pet,” he whispered. “Talk to me. I’ve been waiting . . .”
Lenora jerked awake, embarrassment heating her cheeks as she woke in Micah’s arms. His dark eyes met hers, a softness about them that made desire bubble in her belly.
She hadn’t been close to anyone, especially a man, in years. She’d thought she would hate it, that she’d run from his touch.
But somehow, having Micah beside her, so close, so strong and tough yet so gentle, not demanding but protecting, made her crave more.
He made her want to be whole again. To be able to find love and a future that she’d given up on five years ago.
“Lenora—”
The sound of her phone ringing cut into the moment, and she shoved hair from her face. It was barely dawn. Who would be calling?
“My phone—”
He hurried into her room and retrieved it from the nightstand.
“It’s an unknown number,” he said with a frown.
“Maybe it’s him.”
“I’ll answer—”
“No, he wants to talk to me.” She grabbed the phone, then pressed the answer button. “Hello.”
A tense silence echoed over the line, then a breath.
“Who is this?”
“Lenora,” a woman’s voice cracked.
Fear crawled through Lenora. “Nan?”
“Help me,” Nan cried. “He’s got me . . .”
A scream followed, then Robert Simpleton’s sinister laugh exploded over the line.
Micah caught Lenora as she doubled over with a groan.
“Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god . . .”
“What is it, Lenora? Was that him?”
Tears glittered in her tormented eyes as she looked up at him. “Yes. No . . . Nan . . . it was Nan.”
“Nan?”
“My friend . . . he has her.”
Fury shot through Micah, and he stroked a strand of hair from her damp cheek. “What did she say?”
Lenora’s nails dug into his arms through his shirtsleeves. “That he had her . . . then she screamed.”
Lenora collapsed in his arms, and he closed his eyes, battling his rage as she purged her emotions. Her body trembled with the force, his own shaking with the effort to control himself when he wanted to punch a wall.
And to kill Simpleton.
He wished to hell that he’d killed the son of a bitch instead of turning him into the police for prosecution.
He rocked Lenora in his arms, knowing she needed time to absorb the shock. But he needed to get to work. To find the bastard.
“Nan . . . he’ll hurt her,” Lenora cried. “I know what he’ll do . . .”
“Shh,” he murmured. “We’re going to find him.”
She shuddered against him, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. “But how? And how much will she have to suffer first?” She sucked in a breath, sniffling as she worked to regain control. “He’s doing this to her because of me.”
Micah forced her to look at him. “Listen to me, Lenora, this is not your fault.”
“It is,” she said raggedly. “He’s punishing me for testifying against him. He’s coming for me, but he’s going to hurt people I care about first just to torture me.”
Unfortunately, he couldn’t argue. She knew Simpleton better than anyone.
Which meant she might be able to help.
It would be painful, but she might actually be able to offer insight into the way his thought processes worked.
“Stop. I know you’re worried about her and that Simpleton is a monster, but you need to pull it together, Lenora, so we can find her.”
Her lower lip quivered, then she took another breath and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re right. What should we do?”
“I’m going to call the office and see if the tech department can trace where that call came from.” It was probably a dead end. Most criminals knew to use burner cells and Simpleton was smart. But he had to try.
“I want you to think. Did you hear anything else on the line?”
Her eyes drew together in thought. “No . . . just Nan. She was crying. Scared.” Her voice cracked. “She knows what he did to me, what’s going to happen.”
“Shh,” he said again, then massaged her shoulder. “Think about it, Lenora. Maybe you heard a siren in the background. A car horn? A train?”
She rubbed her temple and closed her eyes as if struggling to recall the details. When she opened them, she looked defeated. “I did hear a muffled sound . . . maybe a plane in the distance.”
“So he might have taken her somewhere near an airport.”
“I barely heard it,” she said. “I don’t think it was near a major airport.”
“There are smaller ones in the country, private airfields.” He squeezed her arm. “That’s good, Lenora. That might help.”
“Did Nan have any family we should notify?”
“No,” Lenora said, her voice strained. “She lost her parents in a car accident two years ago.”
He snatched up his phone and pressed the number for the tech department at the Ranger’s office. “It’s Hardin. Did you find anything on Cissy Cornwall’s phone records?”
“Nothing helpful. Just calls to the prison.”
“We just heard from Simpleton. I need you to trace a call for me.” He gave the tech Lenora’s number and the time of the call then waited.
Lenora rose from the chaise, walked to the edge of the terrace and looked out over the woods. Her tormented expression bothered him. She was still blaming herself. Reliving what Simpleton had done to her because she thought her friend was being abused in the same way now.
He cursed beneath his breath, hating the helpless feeling engulfing him. The sicko never should have seen the light of day again.
Seconds later, the tech came back on the line. “Sorry. The caller used a burner cell.”
Dammit. “Keep a trace on Lenora’s phone in case he calls back. Maybe if we record it, we’ll hear something in the background.” Micah’s mind raced. “Also, search for small private airfields outside Austin. Send the coordinates to me and send a tech team to Nan Purcell’s house.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Micah hung up, then walked over to Lenora. “Come on, let’s shower and get coffee. We’ll meet the crime team at Nan’s place in case Simpleton left a clue there for us.”
Her eyes widened. “You think he’d do that intentionally?”
“He wants you,” Micah said, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “He’s either going to ambush us or leave you breadcrumbs so you’ll come to him.”
Lenora hadn’t considered that Simpleton would try to lead her to him. But she hoped he did. Then she and Micah could make him pay for kidnapping her friend.
Nan . . . God help her. Would she survive?
She forced her mind away from the dark path and darted into the bedroom, then into the bath to shower. But the disturbing thoughts returned as the hot water pummeled her.
Memories of Simpleton’s hands on her, his rough nails clawing at her as he pushed her legs apart and shoved himself inside her. His rancid breath on her skin when he’d ordered her to lie on her stomach or drop to her knees . . .
The old familiar dirty feeling haunted her. Her obsession with scrubbing herself took a life if its own, and she found herself vigorously washing and scrubbing her chest, determined to make that hideous X disappear forever.
But as the water cooled, and she finally turned off the faucet and dried her body, the X remained. The plastic surgeon her mother had hired had smoothed over the torn jagged skin, had insisted it was invisible now.
But she could see it. It would always be with her. Always be a reminder that she was battered and damaged. That she would never be whole again.
Especially not when he was out there, torturing her friend, and waiting to finish her.
Micah phoned Lt. Roper and relayed the news about Nan Purcell as he and Lenora drove toward the woman’s home. “We need to get a photo of her out to the press and across the police databases ASAP.”
“I’ll pull her driver’s license picture,” Lt. Roper said. “How’s Lenora taking it?”
“How do you think?” Micah said. “The monster abducted her friend to punish her.”
“We’ll get him,” Lt. Roper said.
But when? And would they locate him before he tortured Nan?
“Lenora thought she heard a small plane in the background when Nan called,” Micah said. “I asked tech to send me a list and coordinates of any small airfields outside Austin.”
“We’ll start looking for cabins or houses that are abandoned or in isolated areas, too. We know how Simpleton thinks. He’ll take the victims some place off the grid.”
So no one could hear the women scream.
“Send me whatever you get. We’re on our way to Nan’s now. Maybe a neighbor saw something.”
“Keep me posted,” his boss said.
Micah pocketed his phone, and Lenora twisted her hands in her lap. “I haven’t seen or talked to Nan in years,” she said in a pained voice. “We lost touch after the trial.”
When Lenora had needed her most. Lenora must have felt abandoned.
“Simpleton may not know that,” he said. “He probably saw her at the trial and knew you two were close.”
“Nan couldn’t handle hearing details about what happened to me,” Lenora said. “Even if he doesn’t kill her, I don’t know if she’ll survive emotionally.”
Micah squeezed her hand. “Maybe we’ll find her before he hurts her.”
Lenora’s face grew strained as if she wanted to latch onto the hope he offered, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t a naïve young girl. Simpleton had robbed any innocence from her and shown her the darkest side of mankind.
And Simpleton had already traumatized Nan by kidnapping her.
Micah turned down the drive to Nan’s place, noting the neatly kept lawns and expensive cars in the drive.
“Have you been to Nan’s house?” Micah asked.
Lenora shook her head. “She used to live in an apartment. It looks like she’s done well for herself.”
“What does she do for a living?”
“She’s a financial planner, always planning for the future.” Her voice cracked. “A future she might not have now because of me.”
“Not because of you,” Micah said firmly. “Because a sick, twisted murderer escaped from prison.”
“I appreciate that you’re trying to make me feel better, Micah, but we both know the truth.”
He reached the end of the street and turned into the drive. A black BMW sat in front, then his gaze fell to the purse lying on the ground and a scarf that must have belonged to Nan.
This was where Simpleton had abducted her.
The crime unit would arrive any minute. He wanted every bit of evidence possible to make sure the man paid for his crimes.
Lenora tamped down her emotions as she slid from the car. Nan’s purse and scarf were on the ground. One of her black heels was lying in the grass as if it had been kicked aside.
Probably when she’d tried to fight Simpleton.
God.
“Don’t touch anything, Lenora. A crime unit is on the way,” Micah said.
“We know who did it.”
“But we need forensics to back up the case.”
She whirled on Micah. “You mean in case she’s dead and he doesn’t confess?”
Tension stretched between them for a full second.
“Trust me, Lenora. This time he’ll get death row.”
She regretted taking her frustration out on him. Micah was trying to help, doing his best to take care of her and find Simpleton.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just on edge.”
“No apology needed.” Micah offered her a smile. “I know this is difficult.”
“All the more reason to do everything we can to find Nan.” She glanced inside the car, but nothing looked amiss. He must have been watching Nan, jumped her when she came out to her car.
The front door stood ajar, and she slowly walked toward it, but Micah caught her arm. “Let me search the house first.”
Fear shot through her, and she glanced around the driveway for blood or a body but didn’t see any. “You think Nan might be inside? Or that he might be?”
Micah’s shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “I don’t know, but we can’t take any chances.”
Her pulse pounded as he pulled his weapon and inched inside the house. She wished she’d brought her own gun.
The house was a small one-story with an open layout, a large den connecting to the kitchen. Nice wood flooring, expensive cream-colored couches, an office to the right visible from the living area.
“Everything looks in order in here,” Micah said.
Every muscle in Lenora’s body tensed as she followed him down the hallway past the office. What if Nan’s body was here?
What if he’d raped and tortured her in her own home knowing she and Micah would search the house?
Plush white carpet covered the floor of the master bedroom, a queen bed dominated the room, and the closet was open, revealing an array of suits and designer outfits.
Thankfully Nan wasn’t inside the room.
The sound of water trickling echoed from the bathroom and Lenora’s breath caught. God, no . . .
Simpleton had enjoyed shoving his victims below the icy water in the bath, forcing them under for so long they would be chilled inside, lose the will to live and beg to die. Then he would do it again.
But in the end, he’d revive them, use his precious knife to stab them in the heart and carve an X in their chest
An image of Nan lying on the bathroom floor covered in blood flashed in her mind, and Lenora gripped the wall, unable to look as Micah entered the room.
Micah exhaled in relief at the sight of the empty bathroom. The water in the tub was dripping, the tub full and starting to overflow, so he t
urned off the water.
“He used to dunk us in an ice bath and hold us down until we choked and lost our breath,” Lenora said behind him.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, blotting out the image.
Had Simpleton left the water running to remind Lenora of his sick twisted ways?
Demented asshole.
Lenora was trembling, so he clasped her hand and led her back through the house. She paused at the bookshelf and stared at the framed photographs arranged on the shelf. Several of Nan and an older man he assumed was her father, then a picture of Lenora and Nan.
The two of them stood side by side in front of the college in their caps and gowns, their arms linked as they showed off their diplomas.
“I can’t believe she still has that picture.”
Micah cleared his throat. “Maybe she just didn’t know how to help you after the trial,” Micah said. “When some people suffer tragedies or undergo traumatic experiences, it changes them. The people around them often don’t know what to do or say.”
“I know I changed, I was difficult to be around,” Lenora said softly. “I don’t blame her for pulling away.”
He rubbed her arms to warm her. “That’s not what I meant. She was your friend. She let you down when you needed her most. That’s hard to forgive.”
Pain wrenched her face, but outside, the sound of an engine cut through the air, and Micah released her. “That’s probably the crime van.”
He hurried outside to meet them and explained their suspicions. “Look for hair fibers, fingerprints, anything we can use to prove that Simpleton was here.”
The team went to work, and he ushered Lenora back to the car. “I want to look over the files and transcripts from the trial,” Micah said. “Simpleton was interviewed by a court-appointed shrink. Talking to her might give us some insight where he might take Nan.”
“We know it’ll be an isolated area, an abandoned house or building, someplace with a basement that’s dark,” Lenora said, her voice regaining strength.
“Yes, but there might be some other detail that we missed that might help narrow it down. Maybe a special childhood place, an area that meant something to him.”
