Jenn wished the guy would learn to phrase things as requests. The snippety orders were annoying. Nevertheless, she held out her keys then crossed her arms since having them close offered some psychological comfort.
A blond young man walked around the back of the van. His youth shocked her. Judging people’s ages had never been her strong suit, but he couldn’t be more than a few years older than her twenty-three years. His face bore patches of scruff that made him look even younger. He had pretty blue eyes and a curious, puppy-dog-eager nervous energy about him.
“Who are you?” demanded the kidnapper. His posture had stiffened, and he looked ready to choose a new target for his gun.
“The man you came to meet,” said the stranger with a small smile.
Disgust and disappointment washed over the kidnapper’s face.
“You can’t be him,” he muttered. “You’re barely out of diapers.”
“I take it you’ve changed your mind about working for me?” The stranger’s inflection turned it into a question. He appeared disappointed but resigned, as if he’d expected this might happen.
The kidnapper’s whole face twisted into an angry mask, but before he could speak, the stranger moved. Jenn had noticed his right hand hovered slightly behind his back and thought little of it. Now, the stranger’s right hand swung forward holding a bulky, awkward-looking gun. Yelping, she pressed her back against her car as the weapon emitted a noise like a thousand bugs being zapped simultaneously.
Twin prongs leapt forward and latched onto her kidnapper, delivering a massive shock that locked all his muscles. He fell back against her car and continued toward the ground. Terrified, Jenn stepped to the side, ramming her lower back into the side mirror. Before she could gather enough wits to run, the stranger spoke.
“Please don’t go anywhere.”
His eyes stayed on her, but his gun—a real gun this time—pointed down at her kidnapper. With barely more than a casual glance, the stranger shot the man three times, twice in the chest and once in the face.
Jenn’s hands flew to her mouth, but she was too shocked to scream. Her stomach twisted inside her like a live thing. Spots danced before her vision, and she worked hard to control the urge to throw up.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jennifer,” said the stranger. His gun now pointed directly at her gut.
She’d read about what bullets could do to flesh, but seeing it done was overwhelming. Try as she might, she couldn’t move her gaze.
“Please get in the van.”
The stranger’s instruction seemed easy enough to follow, but Jenn’s entire body had been thrown into neutral.
With a sigh, the blond man stepped over the kidnapper’s body and touched Jenn’s right arm. She tried to back away but between the car, the body, and the stranger, she had nowhere to go.
“What—”
“I’ll explain later,” interrupted the stranger. “We need to go.”
“You’re just going to leave him there?” Jenn asked, not liking how winded she sounded.
“There would be no point in moving his body,” the stranger pointed out. “You’re not dead yet, and I’d rather not hurt you here. Please don’t make things more difficult than they need to be.”
“You want easy, let me go,” said Jenn.
A crooked smile and a head shake were her only answers. He motioned again toward the van. Somehow, the order held a lot more weight when emphasized by the handgun.
I don’t want to die.
With those words unhelpfully scrolling through her head on loop, Jenn finally forced her body to move. The stranger scrambled ahead to open the door for her, revealing another body.
For the second time in less than two minutes, Jenn leapt back, covered her mouth, and tried not to scream or retch.
“Don’t mind her,” said the stranger. “We’re going to leave her here.”
Now that she looked closer, Jenn saw that the body belonged to a young woman. Like the dead guy who’d kidnapped her the face evoked vague feelings of familiarity.
“Who was she?” she asked softly.
“Doesn’t matter now,” replied the stranger. “Get in and stay out of the way while I move her.”
The thought of him tossing the body out of the car like a trash bag bothered Jenn.
“May I help?” She would have gone ahead and reached for the body if the example of his explosive temper didn’t lie a few feet away.
The stranger shrugged. Together, they tugged on the plastic sheet under the body. As the head reached the doorway, Jenn slipped her arm underneath to support it. Through the plastic, the body felt warm to her touch. That made the situation even more heartbreaking. A day ago, maybe even hours, this woman had been alive.
“Hold her while I pull the sheet free,” said the stranger.
At least he wasn’t referring to the dead woman as an “it.”
Jenn looped her hands under the woman’s armpits and leaned back as the sheet pulled free. Without the sheet, the body felt even warmer, almost feverish. A crazy thought occurred to her, but she forced it from her mind before it could show up on her face. If she lived long enough, she’d dwell on it later.
“Would you like to leave something for your brother to find?”
The man’s question managed to surprise Jenn.
“Like what?” she asked, standing in the hopes of keeping his attention on her.
If the woman still lived, letting this man know would be akin to killing her.
“The necklace,” he answered.
With fumbling fingers, Jenn removed her simple cross necklace and dropped it into the man’s outstretched hand. Her neck felt strange without it. The stranger studied the jewelry for a few seconds before turning his hand over and letting the necklace drop onto the woman’s chest.
“What do you want with Sam?” Jenn asked, fearing what the man might discover if he looked at the body too long.
“I want him to know what failure feels like.”
The answer made Jenn shiver. She climbed into the black box that was the van’s interior and huddled in the back left corner, as far from the man as she could get.
Chuckling at her reaction, the man bunched up the plastic and threw it in after her. Then he closed the door. As he walked around the van, Jenn scrambled back to the door and tried to open it.
Nothing happened.
Time would tell what this madman truly wanted with her. A lifetime of mysteries and thrillers in movie and book form as well as a handful of criminal justice classes tormented her with the terrible truth. Odds were good that she would die in the next twenty-four hours.
Chapter 37:
Messages
Melissa Novak’s Private Residence
Hillsborough, New Jersey
The week couldn’t get much worse. One of Melissa’s patients had died on Wednesday, and somebody had rear-ended her car yesterday. Hospital policy changes thanks to the national insurance nightmare meant less money, longer hours, and more work for her. Josh went fishing with his buddies, and Josie and the kids were visiting with a college friend. Sam had canceled yet another date, leaving Melissa alone in her nice house.
Painting or wallowing in self-pity were viable weekend options, but even those took effort Melissa wasn’t sure she wanted to spend. The news highlighted the tragedies due to weather, conflicting ideologies, and random acts of stupidity. The few hundred other TV channels offered nothing that remotely interested her. Out of desperation, she checked the local movie theaters to see if anything good was playing. The only two possibilities were ones she’d rather see with Sam someday.
Deciding to declutter her email, Melissa signed into her Gmail account. Nine hundred and two new emails greeted her, letting her know it had been a while since she had checked the account. The spam folder was worse, but she simply hit the delete-all button for that. The others, she decided to at least skim on the off chance it held something good. The volume didn’t surprise her since she used this account to sign up for store promo
tions, donate to charities, and subscribe to newsletters. The nearly mindless activity of sorting emails soothed her.
Nearing the end of her task, Melissa flipped over to trash and emptied it. The move felt good until she noticed her inbox number jump up from forty-four to forty-five. Navigating back to the inbox, Melissa saw it was a notification for a Matchmaker Miracles private message. She frowned at that because she thought she’d turned off the ability for others to communicate with her.
The message turned out to be from Sam’s account, but it didn’t sound like him. It rambled on about how wonderful she was but that things just weren’t working out for them. Melissa read it three more times before the words started sinking in beyond her disbelief.
He’s breaking up with me.
Try as she might, Melissa couldn’t fathom a legitimate reason for this stunning move. Their busy lives made time together scarce, but she always enjoyed hanging out with Sam. The affection that had grown between them over the last few months felt genuine. Certainly whatever they had warranted more than an impersonal “we should go our separate ways” message. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. She needed to talk to Sam. A face-to-face conversation would be best, but phone would have to do for now.
After finding her phone, Melissa pulled up Sam’s number, but her finger hesitated over the call button. She didn’t want to interrupt him if he was busy with a case crisis. Then, she remembered he had taken the time to compose a breakup message. If he had time for that, he could spare a moment to level with her. Resolve renewed, Melissa stabbed her finger into the call button. It rang and rang, which meant he was probably using the phone. When it finally gave her the chance to leave a message, Melissa froze.
“Call me,” was about the extent of words she could manage and not break down into a raving mess.
Ending the call, Melissa tossed her phone onto the couch. She needed to run. The sun would be high and hot this close to midday, but she didn’t care. Changing took only a minute, but Melissa took the time to put on some sunscreen. Part of her felt that maybe a painful sunburn would help her forget the other misfortunes in her life, but she’d treated too many cases of skin cancer that got out of control not to take precautions.
Melissa usually tried to stretch first, but right now, her body simply wanted to move. A swift jog for several blocks warmed her up sufficiently. After pausing for a brief stretch, she continued the workout. Generally, she preferred to work to a time not a distance, but today, she wasn’t keeping any track. Her jog turned into a full run. The beautiful scenery failed to move her. The ache in her heart only intensified as her body strove for speed and distance. Tears joined the sweat pouring down her face. She’d forgotten to tie back her hair. Most strands flapped behind her like a flag, but some clung to her face and neck, making her miserable.
When she paused to deal with the hair issue, Melissa realized she wasn’t immediately sure of her location. Seeing a street corner ahead, she jogged over to it and got her bearings. Since she wasn’t wearing a watch today, Melissa couldn’t tell how long she’d been running, but if she remembered the intersection correctly, she was about two miles from home. Surprised, she turned around and picked her way back at a more reasonable pace. She’d slowed to a walk by the time her house came within sight. The view reminded her how much work remained, but that wasn’t something to address today.
A short cool shower followed by a longer, hot shower put Melissa in a slightly better mood. A light lunch of cold cuts on toast also helped. Thus fortified, she felt ready to call Sam again. The call reached his voicemail, but now that she wasn’t quite so upset, she left a calmer request for a return call. Curious to see if she had any new emails, Melissa woke her computer and saw that she did.
The one from Josie made her laugh, but she marked it as unread so she’d remember to reply to it later. Josie had a funny, sarcastic way of describing the most mundane events. The temptation to dump her problems on her friend was strong, but Josie deserved a stress-free weekend. Melissa didn’t recognize the most recent address, so she clicked on the box next to it and sent it over to trash.
A second later, a new email popped up from the same address. The subject line said: MEET ME.
She might have trashed this second email too if curiosity didn’t get the better of her. Hoping it didn’t contain a virus that wiped her computer clear, Melissa opened the email. The message within was short and to the point.
Mel, I’ve missed you. Meet me
at the farm at 9 o’clock tomorrow.
A.
“A.” had to be Andrew, but why would he send an email to set up a meeting after all these years. What if she’d had other plans? She didn’t, but that wasn’t the point. Andy could be self-centered sometimes, but he had never struck her as completely lacking in social niceties. Should she go or pretend to have better things to do? The possibility of seeing her brother excited her, but he could have had the decency to call or at least phrase the meeting as a request.
The farm was an odd meeting choice too. Their grandparents used to own a farm in Florence, New Jersey. Upon their deaths, the deed had passed to her parents, but health problems had prompted them to sell quickly. She hadn’t thought about that place in years. It held great memories for her. If she ever had a ton of money she had no other use for, Melissa would look into buying the farm back, but she saw no point in regretting what couldn’t be changed right now.
Melissa couldn’t believe she was considering going. Likely she’d drive over an hour only to meet the strangers who’d bought the property decades ago. That was a long way to go to trespass on a patch of land. The rational half of her admitted this was crazy, but the impulsive side wanted to seize the moment.
It’ll be an adventure.
With the afternoon suddenly free, Melissa decided to answer Josie’s email. She’d likely be out and about with the kids right now, but they could have an evening chat. They had much to discuss, and Melissa could certainly use some laughs. She debated whether she should tell Josie about the breakup and decided to leave the final decision until later.
Chapter 38:
High Stakes
The Killer’s Lair
Undisclosed Location
Day 7: Early evening.
The thrill for the job is fading, and I’m still without an apprentice.
I’ll need to work up a new ad and post it tonight. The parameters will have to be different because most of the agents are on high alert now.
Officer Curtis Gallagher successfully kidnapped the lead agent’s sister, but when he met me, he showed only contempt. He could never willingly take orders from me. I’d always be waiting for a betrayal, so I killed him. I felt nothing doing it, except for a vague sense of disappointment. Usually, there’s a thrill or fear of being caught to enhance the situation.
I think Gallagher shot the female agent. I never said they couldn’t wound the agents, so his move was within the task guidelines. Still, in my new ad, I’ll have to be much clearer.
I don’t need them for Mel. She’ll come to me. Having her disappear will likely give law enforcement the final clue they need to discover my identity, but I don’t care.
I’m done with this area. I need to move on.
The agent’s sister is resting in the cell formerly occupied by Layla. Her appearance tells me she spent some of the ride home crying. As I moved her to the cell, I felt her eyes absorbing everything. I should have blindfolded her, but it’s too late for that now. I gave her a sedative. She’ll be out for the night. She knows my face, so she must die. Natasha too, though for Layla’s sake, I’ll leave those details until the last moment.
If I leave in the night, nobody will ever catch me. Eventually, they’ll find this place and the remaining bodies and they’ll know it’s me, but it will be too late to stop me.
Leaving will be difficult. I grew up in this small state. Mel will come with me. She may not want to, but she’ll have no choice. She’s a smart woman. She will
find a way to start anew any place we land. If I play my cards right, maybe I can fake her death and pin it on Josh. His shiny reputation could use a few more visible spots. He has a private gambling problem, but so far, he’s hidden it from Mel and Josie. The numbers don’t lie. I’ve been floating him some money through various sources because I can, and it amuses me to have him in my debt. Maybe I’ll let him get deep enough that he’ll take the fall for these murders to pay the debt. It’s worth considering.
I would never hurt Mel, yet I’ll secretly admit the appeal. She’s perfect, but the only way to truly preserve perfection is to freeze it in time. The only way humans stop growing and changing and disappointing their loved ones is to die.
With all the awful things happening in the world, does Mel wish to be free?
In death, Layla’s worries ceased to matter.
In death, the young men paid for their crimes.
In death, the homeless woman found a home.
Do I wish to be free?
Yes, but there’s too much work to do. I must carry the burden for others.
High stakes are irresistible. My brother could tell you more about that. His gambling takes place online. He hardly ever plays the lottery. I should send him some tickets so he can remember what it felt like to win that way.
Maybe I’ll kill Josh before disappearing. If he goes, Josie will want to go with him, but she needs to raise my nephew and niece without the corrupting influence of their father. One should never gamble with more money than they have. It’s foolish and leads to trouble. What if he’d taken a loan out with the wrong sort of people? He was more than ready to do so before I intervened. They would have gone after Josie and the kids. They deserve better than Josh. Maybe I can find her a good man on Matchmaker Miracles. The matching algorithm is quite good.
The agent’s sister will make the game high stakes for him, but she has no value to me. Therefore, killing her has no appeal. I can use her to get to him, but what would that prove? If he comes to me, what then? Killing him would be a small triumph I suppose, but would it really change the world?
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