On the nearest wall they’d taped up an enlarged map of the county, along with the latest satellite shots. And the kitchen table was nearly buried beneath stacks of paper.
“Max,” Rafe murmured, intensely pleased at the sight of the large man, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved tee stretched over his massive chest, who turned from one of the computers.
He considered all his friends as brothers, but Max had a calm, steady presence that Rafe desperately needed today. He clapped the forensics expert on the shoulder. “Thank you for coming, my man.”
Max held his gaze, his expression somber. “All you have to do is call.”
Rafe gave a careful nod, stepping back. He hadn’t doubted for a second that his friends would drop everything if they thought he was in trouble. “I know.”
The astute gray eyes lingered on the stitches that ran the length of his forehead.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I got hit by a car,” he ruefully admitted. “But I’ll heal. Any word from Teagan and Lucas?”
Max leaned against the edge of the countertop, his arms folded over his chest. “Teagan has been doing door-by-door interviews.”
Rafe cocked a brow. “Interviews?”
“A crash in the middle of the night had to attract a lot of attention,” Max pointed out. “Someone might have seen Annie being taken from the scene.”
Of course it would attract attention. Especially in a town where people considered spying on their neighbors an art form. Dammit. He should have thought of that angle himself.
Clearly his brain was still sketchy.
“And Lucas?” he asked.
“He went to LaClede.” It was Hauk who answered, moving to open the fridge and grab a bottle of water. “He arranged with a friend to have a helicopter flown in.” He reached into his pocket of his jacket to pull out the medicine given them before they left the hospital. Shaking out a little white pill, he handed it to Rafe along with the water. “The search will be easier with eyes in the sky. And once she’s found, it will be a quick way to get her out of danger.”
Rafe swallowed the antibiotic as he glanced toward Max.
“Can you make sure that we’re in constant contact?”
Max nodded. “Of course.”
Forcing himself to drink the entire container of water, Rafe moved to stand next to the table. His hand reached to touch the leather-bound diaries that were spread open.
“Did you discover anything in the journals that might help us?”
“Martin Emerson is a sick fuck,” Max said without hesitation.
Rafe’s gut twisted. “Yeah, I got that from the pile of women with their throats slit.”
Max studied his pale face. “Are you sure he’s the one who’s taken Annie?”
Was he?
Rafe grimaced. He was smart enough to know the danger of leaping to conclusions. They always came back to bite you in the ass.
But they didn’t have the luxury of debating whether there was any chance Annie had been taken by anyone but her brother.
Even if the person guilty of kidnapping Annie didn’t intend to hurt her, he was most certainly on the run. They had to hunt them down before the trail went cold.
“We have to assume he’s responsible for now,” he said in decisive tones, holding Max’s gaze. “Can you tell me where he would have taken Annie?”
Max frowned in confusion. “I’m not a profiler.”
“Guess.”
“Dammit, Rafe,” his friend growled, running his hand over the short strands of his blond hair.
It wasn’t fair to press his friend. Max’s expertise was hard science, not the psychology of criminals. But Rafe couldn’t afford to feel guilt. “Guess.”
Max glanced toward the silent Hauk before heaving a sigh of resignation. “His mind is cluttered, but he’s meticulous. Maybe because his mind is cluttered,” he at last muttered, shoving away from the counter to stand next to Rafe. He pointed toward the nearest journal, which was open to a series of newspaper clippings that were fifteen years old. Each of them had a headline that included the words “Newton Slayer.” Rafe’s blood ran cold. “See how carefully he’s cut the edges of the paper?” Max demanded, his finger tracing the clipping before pointing toward the yellowing bits of tape at each corner. “Even his pieces of tape are cut exactly one inch. And I mean exactly one inch.”
“So what does that mean?”
“Shit, I hate guessing,” Max muttered. “But I would assume he would choose a setting that he can control. No squatting in some random field or sleeping in his car. He’ll be in a permanent structure with electricity and running water.”
It made sense to Rafe. It also gave him a flicker of hope.
In such a rural area it would be impossible to check each patch of woods or abandoned barn.
“That should make him easier to find.”
Max shook his head, flipping shut the journal. “I’m not sure about that,” he warned. “He’s extremely clever. I doubt he came to Newton without careful planning.”
Rafe shrugged, refusing to contemplate failure. “He might be clever, but he’s not as good as us.”
Max nodded. It was true. But his expression remained hard with concern. “Have you considered the fact that he might already have left the area?”
Rafe grabbed the back of a kitchen chair, partially to keep himself upright and partially to keep himself from running through the streets, searching for Annie like a maniac.
“Of course I have,” he admitted. “But I don’t think he’ll leave Newton until he’s finished.”
Hauk moved to stand at his side. “Finished what?”
Rafe carefully reached for one of the diaries, flipping it open to search for the pages he’d noticed when he’d glanced through them earlier. “This.”
Hauk and Max leaned forward to read the nursery rhyme that’d been copied over and over.
One for sorrow,
Two for luck.
Three for a wedding,
Four for death.
Five for silver,
Six for gold.
Seven for a secret,
Not to be told.
Eight for heaven,
Nine for hell
And ten for the devil’s own sell.
Hauk made a small sound of shock. “That’s the poem that he’s been sending to Annie, right?”
Rafe nodded. “Yeah.”
Max glanced from Hauk to Rafe, his brows pulled into a confused frown. “What does this have to do with the bastard staying in town?”
Rafe took a minute, organizing his vague suspicions.
He’d sensed from the first note that the rhyme was somehow important to the stalker. And that it had some connection to Annie, as well as the missing women.
But it wasn’t until he’d seen it written on page after page that he’d realized the depth of Martin’s obsession with the words.
“I think the poem has some special meaning to Martin Emerson,” he said slowly. “And I think he intends to murder a woman for each verse.”
There was a tense silence as his friends considered his theory.
“There’s ten verses.” Hauk was the first to speak, pointing out a flaw in his logic. “There were only seven women killed the first time.”
“Because he was interrupted,” Rafe reminded him, shivering at the mere thought of seven innocent women being slaughtered. Jesus. He’d seen his share of horrors during the war, but Martin Emerson took it to a new level. “This time I don’t think he’ll quit until he’s finished his job.” He deliberately paused. “Or he’s dead.”
Max furrowed his brow, the logical scientist in him not impressed with Rafe’s gut instincts.
“That’s a pretty big leap,” he said.
It was.
In fact, it was fairly close to grasping at straws. But at this point, Rafe didn’t have much choice.
“It’s all I have,” he admitted with a shrug.
They all froze as a sha
dow fell across the back porch. Then, with a blinding speed, both Max and Hauk had their guns pulled and pointed toward the back door, which was being shoved open.
Completely ignoring the tension, not to mention the guns pointed at his head, Teagan strolled into the kitchen. Halting at the center of the floor, he took a slow survey of Rafe’s pale face and tousled hair.
Despite the cold morning air, the computer genius was dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved black tee with a leather holster strapped across his chest. “Amigo, you look like shit,” he said, planting his hands on his hips.
“Thanks.” Rafe sent his friend a wry smile. “Tell me you found something that can help us.”
The younger man didn’t hesitate. “No one claims to have seen the accident or who disappeared with your woman, but I traced the car that smashed into your truck to a farmer just north of town.”
Rafe’s lips twisted.
Why hadn’t he questioned the sheriff about the car that had crashed into him?
Either he was suffering from a concussion or his fear for Annie was screwing up his brain.
Thank God he had his friends around as backup.
“You’re sure it was stolen?” he asked.
Teagan gave a nod. “Yep.”
“When?”
“The man didn’t know it was missing until I called him,” Teagan said, his expression revealing his disbelief that anyone could not know his car had been stolen. Of course, Teagan lavished as much love on his automobiles as most people gave their children. Maybe more. “He said it was usually parked in a shed behind the house.”
Which meant they didn’t have any time line for when it was stolen.
“Damn,” Rafe muttered.
“Wait.” Teagan held up a hand, his eyes glinting with gold in the morning sunlight. “He did say he’d noticed a battered black pickup parked at the end of his drive before he went to bed.”
“He didn’t investigate?” Hauk demanded in surprise.
They’d all discovered that while the locals could be friendly, even with strangers, they took a very dim view of trespassers.
Especially since the explosion of meth labs in the area.
Few of them would hesitate to shoot anyone who strayed onto their land at night.
Teagan gave a lift of his shoulder. “By the time he got his shotgun, the truck had taken off.”
“Tell me he at least got the plate number?” Rafe pleaded.
“No, but he was certain it was a 2000 Ford F150 Super-Cab with a mounted toolbox.”
“Shit,” Hauk muttered. “Half this county drives Ford trucks.”
Teagan moved forward, a smug smile on his lips as he began to shuffle through a pile of papers stacked on the kitchen table.
“True, but I already pulled the pics from the security cameras at the gas company,” Teagan said, collecting several 8x10 photos. “Whoever installed them should be shot,” he groused.
Rafe gave a short laugh. “Not everyone can be a techno wizard,” he reminded his friend.
“They could at least be competent,” Teagan muttered, standing at Rafe’s side to reveal the black-and-white images of a parking lot. Rafe studied the three utility trucks lined side by side, as well as a small shed, shaking his head as he understood Teagan’s frustration. The majority of the picture was centered on a brick wall.
Why?
“Shit,” he muttered.
“The cameras cover less than half the lot and none of the street, but I did manage to narrow down a few images of cars that didn’t look like they belonged,” Teagan continued, sorting through the pictures until he found the one he wanted. He pointed toward the front cab of a black Ford pickup that was parked next to one of the gas trucks. “This is our guy.”
Fury as corrosive as acid scoured through Rafe’s blood as he tilted the picture toward the window where the morning sunlight streamed into the kitchen. The image was fuzzy and too far away to make an exact I.D., but there was no mistaking the driver of the truck had a mop of curls and a thin face that were remarkably similar to Martin Emerson’s.
Max moved to peer over Rafe’s shoulder, grabbing his upper arm as if sensing he was about to explode.
“Good work, my friend,” Max told Teagan. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t tell us how to track him down.”
Teagan grabbed the pictures and tossed them back on the table before nodding toward the computers humming away on the counter.
“There’s two businesses on the edge of town that have ATMs,” he said. “Thankfully they both use the same security company. Once I hack into their system, I should be able to review their cameras and see if the truck passed them.”
Rafe nodded, not at all surprised that Teagan had the ability to break into the company’s private computers. He could hack his way into Homeland Security if he wanted.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
“Hopefully we’ll be able to see if the truck headed for the highway and if he went north or south after leaving town.” Teagan hesitated, his gaze locked on Rafe. “And if he had a passenger.”
Pain lanced through Rafe, nearly sending him to his knees.
“God dammit,” he growled.
Max tightened his hand on Rafe’s arm while Hauk moved to stand at his other side. Without words they were giving him the support he needed.
And that was why he loved them.
“So how the hell did he pull it off?” Hauk rasped, no doubt as much to distract Rafe from his blinding fear as to discuss how Annie had been snatched from beneath his nose.
It was Teagan who answered. “If it was me I’d steal the farmer’s car and park it on the side street before going back for the gas truck to block the street,” he said, pausing as if he was considering the various logistics of pulling off the kidnapping. “After that it was only a matter of placing his own truck close by and waiting for Rafe to fall into his trap.”
Teagan’s explanation made sense, but it left a hell of a lot to fickle fate.
“Still, he couldn’t have known when I would return,” he muttered, futilely wishing he’d kept heading south.
Annie might have been pissed if he’d hauled her to his ranch and locked her in his house, but she’d be safe in his arms.
Right now he’d take pissed.
“True,” Teagan agreed. “There was a calculated risk that the farmer would miss his car or that someone would call the gas company demanding to know if there was a leak. But the return on a successful execution of his plan more than made up for the chance of having it interrupted.” The golden eyes narrowed. “I have to admit the bastard can think quick on his feet. A damned shame.”
Rafe made a sound of frustration.
He’d tried to be so careful. He’d assumed that as long as he was close to Annie she would be protected.
Shit.
One well-placed gas truck, one stolen car, and one untimely accident later and he’d been easily incapacitated.
Hauk muttered a foul word, giving a shake of his head. “Why now?”
They all turned to study the older man’s troubled expression.
“What do you mean?” Max demanded.
“Why not take Annie as soon as she got to town?” Hauk clarified. “Or hell, while she was in Denver. She would have been easy to snatch before we got involved.”
Rafe absently pressed his fingers to the aching cut on his forehead.
It was a legitimate question.
There’d been a hell of a lot easier ways for Martin to get his hands on Annie.
So why take such a risk last night?
The answer came like a strike of lightning.
“It’s because we got involved,” he growled. “Or at least because I got involved.”
Teagan tilted his head to the side. “He’s jealous?”
“Exactly.” Rafe met his friend’s disgusted gaze and gave a small shake of his head. “Not in an incestuous way. The diaries are clear that his obsession with Annie is brotherly, not sexual,” he
said. “But she’s his to protect, as far as he’s concerned. He can’t let me usurp his position.”
Max gave his arm a squeeze. “Which means he won’t hurt her,” he assured Rafe. “He’s obsessed with keeping her safe.”
Rafe wasn’t nearly so certain. He didn’t have experience with a serial killer, but he did know that their thought processes were whacked.
Who the hell knew what was going through Martin’s twisted brain? “He’s unstable,” he said, his voice harsh with fear. “He might decide the only way to protect her is to kill her.”
Max held his gaze. “We’ll find her.”
“Damn straight,” Teagan muttered.
Rafe sucked in a deep breath.
They would find her.
Any other outcome was unthinkable.
Period.
A fierce, ruthless need to be out on the search exploded through Rafe, propelling him toward the large map that was pinned to the wall.
Annie was out there somewhere. Waiting for him to save her.
He wasn’t going to fail her again.
Waiting for his friends to join him, Rafe used the tip of his finger to draw a small circle around Newton.
“When Lucas calls in, tell him to concentrate on this area.”
Max pulled out his phone, tapping in the GPS coordinates. “Are you sure you want it so limited?” he demanded when he was done.
Rafe didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”
Max glanced up from his phone, studying Rafe with a small frown. “You have a reason to think he’s going to be there?”
He nodded. “Annie’s visions.”
“Rafe—” Teagan started, only to snap his lips shut when Rafe held up a hand.
“Plus, I suspect all three missing women were taken from this convenience store,” Rafe continued, pointing toward the gas station along the edge of the highway. “He has to be near enough to have kept a close watch on the parking lot without attracting notice.”
Teagan considered his words before giving a slow nod. “Fine.”
Rafe stepped back, glancing toward Hauk. “I’ll need you to drive until the last of the painkillers get out of my system,” he informed his friend.
“Where are we going?”
“Annie’s out there. I’m going to find her.”
Kill Without Mercy Page 25
