Say Goodbye to Melody

by Velvet Vaughn

  Several agents were gathered around the table in the largest conference room. It looked to be everyone not on assignment. Even Dante was here, and he didn’t actively work cases. “What do you have?”

  Everyone looked surprised to see him. He had to look fairly disturbing with a thick bandage wrapped around his neck, his hair sticking up at all angles and his muscles twitching occasionally. His brother Ben jumped to his feet.

  “You should be in the hospital, Grant. Luke?” His tone was accusing.

  Luke shrugged. “I couldn’t stop him.”

  “I’m fine, Ben and we’re wasting time. What do you have?”

  “Not much,” Dan Bradley admitted. “We were able to pull security footage from the apartment complex and they showed Richard Franklin carrying an unconscious Melody to a vehicle and driving away. Traffic cams caught him entering a parking garage downtown but not leaving. The police blocked off the garage and searched. They found the vehicle abandoned but no sign of either one.”

  “We’ve been digging through Richard’s background,” Kayla said. “The only property he owns is his house, and it’s been thoroughly searched.”

  “The guy’s a serial killer,” Dante pointed out. “He’d have to have a place to take the women to kill them. Someplace remote, where neighbors wouldn’t notice women coming but never leaving.”

  “Gals and guys,” Tyler Redmond, resident computer genius piped up. “I think I found something.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Grant couldn’t stop his leg from twitching and it wasn’t residual effects from the taser. It was from urgency. He needed to get to Melody right now. Too much time had passed.

  Tyler had tracked down a small parcel of land along the Ohio River that belonged to Richard Franklin’s maternal great-grandfather. The deed had never been transferred after Silas Cartwright passed away decades ago. Tyler accessed a satellite image of the land that showed a dilapidated fishing cabin, overgrown weeds and nothing else, along a desolate stretch of the river, with no surrounding neighbors. A perfect place for a serial killer to set up shop.

  Grant had leaped from his chair and headed to the heliport on the top of the building before Tyler finished talking. He was ready to act now, without any further investigation. It was where Richard Franklin was holding Melody, he was sure of it. The only thing stopping him was his brother Ben, and about twenty coworkers. They needed a plan before they stormed the place. They couldn’t risk making a mistake and getting Melody killed. His mind knew that, but his heart was screaming for him to get to her as soon as possible.

  There were seven seats on the twin engine helicopter plus one for the pilot. It’d been tough narrowing it down to six additional agents to accompany him on the trip. Luke and Ben insisted on coming, and he was grateful to his brothers. There was no one else he’d rather have on his six. His brother-in-law Dan was aboard, as were Mason and Kayla. He would trust any of his coworkers to do the job, but he felt like they had a dream team. Logan would run operations from home, with assistance from at least a dozen other agents. They left one seat open. For Melody.

  They’d pinpointed a spot to land the chopper that was far enough away from the cabin so that Richard wouldn’t hear them approach, but close enough that they could surround it in minutes.

  The flight was a quick one, with only about thirty minutes air time. Still, it was twenty-nine minutes too long for Grant. They were all decked out in full battle gear. Richard Franklin was not getting out of there alive if he had anything to say about it.

  #

  Melody awoke slowly. Every joint in her body ached and her head felt as if she’d been slammed with a baseball bat. Her mouth felt like someone packed it with a package of cotton balls. She needed a drink of water.

  She blinked to get her bearings. The room was dark and damp and a musty odor permeated the air. She had no idea where she was. She lifted her hand to brush her hair from her face but came up short. Her arms were tied down.

  “Are you finally awake, cuz? Damn, I must have doubled the dosage. You’ve been out for almost two days.”

  Her head jerked to the man standing beside the bed. “Rich?” Her voice came out in a croak. “What are you doing? Untie me.”

  “Sorry, Mel, I can’t do that.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think? You ruined everything, you bitch!” He whipped out his arm and backhanded her, snapping her head to the side.

  She stayed frozen, absorbing the pain and tasting blood. When she could think again, she tried to figure out what he was talking about. Images came back to her. The plot of land, the bodies. Dozens of skeletons buried on her land.

  “It was you,” she whispered, horrified that she was related to someone so twisted, so evil. An image of Grant lying on the ground and Rich pulling the trigger flashed in her head and she cried out. “What did you do to him?”

  “You mean the giant who never left your side? He was a pain in the ass. I got rid of him.”

  Nausea rose in her throat and she had to choke down bile. “Untie me,” she croaked. “I’m going to be sick.”

  Her cousin ignored her, and she concentrated on breathing so that she wouldn’t throw up and asphyxiate. She didn’t have much to live for now if Grant was dead. Her business was gone. The love of her life, gone. A muffled sob left her throat and it seemed to please Rich.

  A sudden calm came over her, almost as if Grant had wrapped an arm around her. A new determination swept over her. She would not give Richard the satisfaction of seeing her distress. He could kill her, and she wouldn’t beg for her life. But before she died, she wanted answers.

  “Why, Richard? Why did you kill all of those women?”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re going to kill me anyway. You owe me some answers.”

  “You want to be my therapist? Fair enough. Well, Dr. Fleming—she was my psychiatrist after Daddy died, but she never did help me—I’ve always had the urge to kill. I come by it naturally, you know.”

  That was true. When Rich was seven, his father had been sent to prison for decapitating his business partner and the man’s wife in a fit of rage after accusing him of embezzling from their business. It proved to be a false accusation and he’d gotten life without the possibility of parole. He’d been killed in a prison melee two years later. It’d crushed her dad when his older brother was indicted for murder.

  “When I heard what Pops had done, it sent a tingle of excitement through me.”

  “You’re sick.”

  She’d always felt sorry for Rich. His childhood had been tough. After his father was incarcerated, his mother barely acknowledged his existence, flitting from one man to another, often in a drug-enhanced state. She’d finally had enough and took off when he was ten. As far as Melody knew, he’d never heard from her again. He’d been raised by his maternal grandparents, who were religious and very strict. They demanded perfection from Rich and he never lived up to their expectations. He’d flunked out of several colleges but somehow, he’d gone on to have a relatively successful job in sales. She thought he’d turned his life around.

  A thought struck. Burton Kline didn’t hire Andrew Polk to terrorize her. Rich did.

  “Where did you find Andrew Polk?”

  “Ah, my prodigy. I discovered him on a sales trip to Terre Haute a year or so back. He needed drugs, I had them. A partnership was born.” Rich shook his head fondly. “The kid had a knack for killing, except when it came to you. Then he was inept.”

  “He’s the one who forced me off the road and destroyed my car?”

  “He was, yes.”

  “Almost ran me over?”

  “Him, again.”

  “He tried to burn my house down?”

  “Ah, that one was me. It’d have worked if your nosy neighbor hadn’t called the fire department so quickly.”

  “I know it was him who machine gunned my store windows, since the cops caught him. But then you killed him.”

  “He was of
no use to me anymore. Plus, he would’ve sung like a canary in custody. Couldn’t risk it.”

  “Why do you want me dead, Rich? What have I ever done to you?”

  “Haven’t you been paying attention? You were stealing from me! That was my land. It was the only thing my father left me, and you took it away.”

  “I didn’t take it from you, Rich. Your father gave it away.”

  “He had no right!”

  It was his land, so she figured he had every right. Rich was clearly demented.

  “How long have you been killing women, Rich?”

  He cursed long and loud and she flinched from the vehemence. “You found them? Disturbed them? They were resting peacefully. I gave them all proper burials.”

  “How long?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve been doing this for years. So, have they identified the women?”

  “No. Who are they?”

  “No one who will be missed. Prostitutes. Whores. All women I pick up on my travels so as not to call attention to women disappearing from one location. See,” he tapped his head. “Good old Rich ain’t stupid. Besides, I’m doing a social service by getting rid of the trash. You might even find the remains of dear old mom there, too.”

  Her jaw dropped open. “You killed your mother? How could you?”

  “She was never a mother to me!” he yelled. “I needed her, and she wasn’t there for me. I had to live with her sadistic parents who abused me every single day.”

  “They hit you?”

  “Mental abuse! I was never good enough or smart enough. I never did one thing right.”

  “When did you kill your mother?”

  “A couple of years ago. She just showed up, out of the blue. I hadn’t heard from her in over twenty-five years and she thought she could just waltz right back into my life and ask for money. She looked like the cliché saying, rode hard and put away wet. Wrinkles, sunken eyes, brittle hair. I barely recognized her. I did show her mercy, however, and killed her quickly.”

  “Your grandparents, they died in a car accident?”

  He chuckled wickedly and pulled up a chair. He was enjoying this. Sick bastard. “They did at that.”

  “One you caused,” she guessed.

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “Is that when all of this started? When you began killing? Your grandparents were your first?”

  “They were my first humans, yes.” He closed his eyes as a look of euphoria washed over him. “I couldn’t believe the high that came from ending their miserable lives. From then on, I was hooked. I even taught myself how to shoot a rifle, and I’m pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. I would’ve made an excellent sniper in the military. You saw how I tagged that reporter and the others. Unfortunately, I had to off Andy, too.”

  How could he sit here and talk like ending someone’s life was as easy as ordering a pizza? “The police know who you are. You’ll never get away with it.”

  “Oh, I think I will. I’ve had an escape plan for years. You are my last loose end. I couldn’t leave without making you pay.”

  Melody thought about the tiny chip embedded in her watch that would lead Grant’s teammates right to her. She forced her mind not to think of him lying on the ground, bleeding. She glanced at her wrist and gasped. It was gone. “What did you do with my watch?”

  He looked genuinely perplexed. “I didn’t do anything to it. I’m not the thief. You are.”

  No, he was just a murderer. And she was officially screwed. If the tracker was gone, there was no way for anyone to know where she was right now. There would be no rescue.

  “Let me go, Rich. I won’t tell the police where you are, and you can execute your escape plan.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve wanted to do this for years. You weren’t even related to my maternal grandparents, yet they couldn’t stop bragging on you or that bully brother of yours.” He sing-songed his voice. “Melody won this academic award, Max won that athletic award, blah, blah, blah.”

  Suddenly, he jumped to his feet and kicked the chair out of the way. A look of pure hatred crossed his features. “I’ve despised you for years. I wish I could take care of your bastard brother, too but you will have to suffice.”

  He lifted a hatchet with both hands and she gasped. She needed to keep him talking. “Is this how you killed all of those women? With a hatchet?”

  He lowered it. “I tried several methods. This one is a personal favorite. Enough talking.”

  He lifted the blade over his head and she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see the look of excitement on his face as he killed her. Two muted pops sounded and then something slammed into her, knocking the wind from her lungs. She’d been preparing for a sharp blade, but this was bigger and heavier. She opened her eyes. It was Rich.

  Suddenly the room filled with people. Grant’s coworkers had found her! The ropes binding her arms were cut and then Rich’s body was removed. The next thing she knew, she was being hauled into a pair of muscular arms. She knew those arms. “Grant?”

  “I’m so sorry, babe.”

  He was crushing her so hard she could barely breathe. “Grant, let me go.”

  He released her with a look of confusion. She grabbed his face, looking into those laser blue eyes. “Is it really you?”

  “Yeah, honey, it’s me.”

  “But…I saw him shoot you.”

  He tapped the bandage around his neck. “Minor damage.” His eyes narrowed on her face, and his fingers gingerly feathered across her cheek. “If I hadn’t already killed the bastard, I’d shoot him again for hurting you.”

  “He’s really dead?”

  “Yeah, he is.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and even though he grunted, she wasn’t about to let go. She thought he was dead, that she would never see him again. But he was here and he was alive and he saved her life, again.

  “How did you find me?”

  “Tyler located property that Rich’s great grandfather owned. The deed was still in his name. We knew he’d want somewhere remote and this fit the bill.”

  “He killed all of those women, Grant. Dozens. Including his own mother and grandparents.”

  “Don’t worry, Mel, he won’t be hurting anyone ever again.”

  Epilogue

  Fred’s foliage rattled gently with the early evening breeze as Melody lounged in a chair beside his blue ceramic pot. But instead of reclining on Grant’s small but functional balcony, they were currently residing on her brother’s massive cedar wood deck. A waterfall babbled and gurgled as it cascaded into the crystal blue waters of his professionally-landscaped pool below.

  Luke Colton had decided he couldn’t keep Melody’s abduction from Max, so he’d called and notified him when she disappeared. As soon as he found out, Max had taken the next flight home. He’d arrived at the hospital right after she’d been admitted for observation. Other than bruises and swelling, she felt fine, but Dr. Amelia Howell had been insistent since her cousin had injected her with a tranquilizer. Grant remained by her side throughout her hospital visit, as did Max. They both slept in chairs, having convinced the nursing staff that they needed to stay. She had a feeling Dr. Howell had something to do with the decision. But when she’d been released, it’d been Max who loaded her into his Range Rover and drove her to his place. With a brush of his lips against hers, Grant was gone.

  A week had passed since the ordeal in Rich’s family cabin. Crews had uncovered thirty-three bodies buried beneath the ground of her family land. Thirty-three. Actually, the final tally was thirty-seven counting the people he gunned down at the ground-breaking ceremony. She shook her head sadly. The number was staggering. Authorities were in the process of identifying the remains using dental records and missing persons reports. Rich’s house had been thoroughly searched right down to the studs, but he left no clues to the identities of the women. Most serial killers kept mementos of their victims to relive the thrill of the m
urder. Rich apparently didn’t feel the need to remember his crimes.

  Rich mentioned Andrew Polk being his protégé, but there was no way to tell who killed whom, so all the deaths would be attributed to Richard Franklin. The B-Town Butcher.

  Rich had been buried next to his father, in the cheapest coffin available, with no service, fanfare or mourners. Serial killer groupies had descended upon the city when the story broke, so the cemetery officials waited until night to stick him in the ground. She had no idea if he would have a headstone, nor did she care.

  She’d been too despondent to get out of bed the first morning at Max’s house. Her brother refused to let her wallow in pity. He’d forced her to get up and eat. Then the reinforcements arrived. Between Taylor, Jade and the others, she was able to slowly put the events of the past few weeks behind her and focus on her future again.

  There would be no grand opening since she no longer had a storefront. It was shelved until the production facility was constructed. Max had found a plot of land that worked perfectly for the building and they were in the process of purchasing the parcel from the owner. Reed Steele was finalizing blueprints for the new location. The design would basically be the same, with tweaks for the different landscape.

  Funerals had been held for the construction crew and the reporter who died from Rich’s sniper attack. Chuck Grove, the foreman, was recovering and already lining up plans for the new build.

  Kendall and Olivia thought it would be better to wait a couple of months to air the infomercial so that the intense media coverage of the B-Town Butcher died down, and it would. Some other disaster or world event would displace Rich in the headlines soon enough.

  Raine had steadily improved from critical to stable condition. It would be a while before she could go home, but she felt stronger every day. Melody sat with her each afternoon and she assumed Raine would want nothing to do with Harmony after her excruciating ordeal, but Raine was looking forward to getting back into the lab. She was even pouring through magazines to decorate her office in the yet-to-be-constructed facility. It gave her something to look forward to instead of the months of rehabilitation ahead.