The Devil, the Witch and the Whore (The Deal Book 1)

by Amy Cross

  I should have made it to the main road by now. I'm sure of that.

  “I'm coming back,” I whisper, hoping against hope that somehow Ramsey might be able to hear me, and that she's okay down in that hole. I keep telling myself that she probably got up, dusted herself down, and found herself in one of the tunnels. Then she used the app on her phone to find the nearest exit, and she's already heading back to town. Hell, she might be in way better shape than me, and she'll have the police out here real soon. When I get to my house, she'll be sitting on the porch with a soda in her hand, smiling and asking what took me so long.

  Ramsey's good like that. Ramsey's reliable. Ramsey's tough and resilient. In fact, I'm starting to wonder whether I should have just jumped into the hole after her and -

  Suddenly I trip again, although this time I only stumble and at least I manage to keep myself up. Tears are streaming down my face and I barely have the energy to walk, let alone run. I'm shivering, clutching my arms tight around my body in an attempt to keep warm, but a moment later I hear another faint clicking sound over my shoulder and I spin around, startled.

  It was nothing.

  Or...

  No, nothing.

  There's definitely nothing.

  All I see is darkness, but I've been hearing those clicking sounds every few minutes, almost as if somebody is calmly keeping pace with me through the forest. Maybe Ramsey was right, maybe that asshole has night-vision goggles. Hell, he could be about five goddamn feet away and I wouldn't necessary have any idea. He could have a rifle aimed at my chest, as he waits for the right moment to squeeze the trigger. It's not difficult to imagine a million different ways he might be tracking me, and that's before I even start thinking about traps he might have laid in the forest.

  “Is that you?” I stammer, my voice trembling with fear. “Are you here? If you're here, just get it over with, okay? Come at me, asshole!”

  I wait, but the only answer is the silence of the forest.

  Why would he wait? He wouldn't, so the obvious explanation is that I'm all alone out here, and that the guy from the farm lost track of me a long time ago. Turning, I start making my way between the trees, still shivering, and I force myself to focus on the positives. Ramsey isn't helpless and unconscious at the bottom of that sinkhole. She can't be. Ramsey is way too cool and way too smart and way too tough to just fall down a hole and get knocked out. That would be pathetic, and totally not Ramsey at all. She's, like, my hero.

  And the guy from the truck isn't some kind of superhero or horror movie villain, either. He's just an asshole with a truck.

  Stumbling between two more trees, I suddenly find myself at the edge of the forest, with a field spread out before me. I look around, to make doubly sure that there's no sign of that asshole or his stupid truck, and then I start making my way along the tree-line, still just a little too scared to go out in the open. The field runs down a steep hill, and there's a vast star-field filling the night sky, but I still can't see either the road or the lights of town in the distance. I thought I'd emerge from the forest somewhere near the edge of Deal, I thought I'd recognize some kind of landmark, but now I think I'm actually lost.

  I turn and look around, squinting as I try to figure out where I am.

  And that's when I spot the cabin.

  Over by the far tree-line, maybe five or six hundred feet away past the field's nearest corner, there's a small wooden cabin. There are no lights on, but this cabin is the first sign of civilization that I've found since I ran from the farm, and I instinctively take a couple of steps forward before stopping and reminding myself that it might be a trap. Even from this distance the place looks battered and abandoned, but after a moment I realize that Dad once told me about logging cabins out in the wilderness, past Pellow's Peak. But...

  Pellow's Peak? I can't be that far from town. I can't be all the way over at Pellow's Peak, that's impossible. That'd mean I've basically gone in the absolute wrong direction ever since I left the farm. It'd mean I'm miles and miles from town, with no hope of getting home before dawn.

  But there are no cabins near town. The only cabins, at least the only cabins I know of, are way out past Pellow's Peak.

  “Please no,” I whisper, my voice shuddering in the cold air. “Come on, give me a break.”

  I start making my way along the edge of the forest, circling around the corner of the field as I edge cautiously toward the cabin. I haven't made up my mind to actually try going inside, but I figure I should at least check the place out, and deep down I'm hoping there might be a phone or at least a map, or maybe a flashlight. It's too much to hope that there might actually be someone inside the cabin who can help me, but I might be able to find something that's useful.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I look back toward the forest, and I'm relieved to see that there's still no sign of anyone following me.

  It takes several minutes before I reach the cabin, and several more before I summon the courage to step too close, but finally I edge right up to the window and cup my hands around my eyes so I can peer inside. I can't see anything at all, only darkness, but in a way I guess that's a good thing. If the cabin's abandoned, there's much less chance of the asshole from the farm turning up here, and there might still be something I can use to defend myself or to call for help. I make my way around to the front and find the door, and then I force myself to be brave. Reaching out, I turn the handle, and to my relief I find that the door actually creaks open.

  I stare into the cabin's dark interior. I can't see a thing, and there could be ten mass-murderers staring right back out at me with knives in their hands, but I take a step forward anyway, into the cold air.

  “Hello?” I whisper, as my right foot causes a wooden board to groan under my step. “Is anyone here?”

  Silence.

  Still, it feels good to be inside again, rather than out in the open.

  I reach out and feel the edge of a table in the darkness. When I run my hands over the top of the table, I find that it's bare, and then I turn and step carefully over to the other wall. Finding nothing, I feel the wall for a moment and then take a right turn, heading slowly toward the cabin's far end. The only sounds are my feet against the wooden floor and my terrified, snatched breaths, and I keep my hands against the cold wooden wall as I make my way slowly back toward the door. Finally, just as I'm starting to give up hope, my fingers fumble against a switch, which I immediately flick even though I doubt it'll work.

  Immediately, a single light-bulb comes to life above me.

  “Thank God,” I stammer, relieved that after walking for hours through the dark forest I can finally see again. I don't know where the power is coming from, but I'm not about to start asking questions. Turning, I see that there's what looks like an old radio system on a table at the far end. I'm about to hurry over, when I suddenly realize that the light might be broadcasting my position for miles around like some kind of goddamn beacon, so I hit the switch again.

  The cabin falls dark once more, but this time I know exactly where to go. I fumble across the room until I find the farthest table, and then I kneel and start running my hands over the radio. There are several switches, and I try a few of them without any luck before – finally – I hit a switch on the front and a small panel lights up.

  This is a miracle. I think I might officially start believing in God soon.

  “Please,” I whisper, as I struggle to figure out exactly how to operate the machine. “Come on, just work. Please, you have to work.”

  I find what looks like some kind of receiver, which I lift from a hook, and then I start flicking every switch I can find. The radio starts emitting a kind of whirling static, just like the kind of noise they make in movies, so I turn various dials and wait for any hint of a reply. I have no idea why anyone would keep power running all the way out to this cabin, or even how, or why they'd leave a working radio ready to use. Maybe this is some kind of ranger cabin, something like that.

  “Hello?�
�� I stammer, speaking into the receiver. “Is anyone out there? Please, if you can hear me, say something.”

  I turn more dials, and the static is definitely swirling and changing, but I'm still not picking up any voices.

  “Please come in,” I continue. “My name is Leanne Halperin and I'm lost somewhere near Pellow's Peak, and I think my friend is hurt. I don't know how to use this thing, but I really really hope someone can hear me right now. Come on, please, someone has to be out there and -”

  Before I can finish, I hear the faintest trace of a voice somewhere in the static. I stop turning the dials for a moment and listen, and now I'm sure there's a voice. Finally, I turn the first dial just a little, but nothing happens. I try the second, and now the voice sounds just a little clearer.

  “Hello?” I gasp, forcing myself to stay calm and reminding myself that I'm not necessarily out of danger yet. “This is Leanne Halperin. Can you hear me?”

  The voice replies, but I really can't make out any words. I fumble with a few more of the dials, trying to make the signal clearer.

  “- and try again,” it says suddenly, sounding perfectly clear. “Over.”

  “This is Leanne Halperin,” I stammer. “Do you hear me?”

  I wait.

  “Is anyone out there?” the voice asks. It's a guy, and he sounds concerned. “This is the sheriff's station down at Mercer Road. If anyone is out there, please respond. Over.”

  “Crap,” I mutter, realizing that I probably need to press a special button. I start hitting and turning and clicking everything I can find. “Can you hear me? My name is Leanne Halperin and I'm lost, and I think someone's after me, and I need help. My dad's Chris Halperin, he's really important and -”

  “Okay Leanne, I can hear you.”

  I feel an immediate rush of relief in my chest, and tears of joy start running down my face.

  “Thank you!” I gasp. “Thank you so much! My name is Leanne Halperin and I'm in a cabin somewhere near Pellow's Peak, and I'm lost and some guy has been chasing me, and my friend is hurt and I'm scared! My dad's Chris Halperin and you have to help me!”

  “Okay, Leanne,” the officer replies, “I need you to do something for me, okay? Above the door, you'll find a small metal plate that should have a number. That number is a unique cabin identification marker and it'll tell me where you're located, and then I can send someone out. Do you understand?”

  “I'll go check!”

  Setting the receiver down, I fumble back across the cabin until I reach the door. I flick the light on, and sure enough there's a kind of plaque over the door, which I'm just about able to read when I stand on tip-toes. Once I'm sure of the number, I turn the light back off and head back to the radio.

  “Are you still there?” I ask.

  “I'm still here, Leanne. Did you find the number?”

  “It's 43201,” I tell him. “That's all that was on there. Is it enough?”

  “That's fine,” he replies, sounding as if he's flipping through some papers. “Okay, Leanne, you're in a cabin about two miles east of Pellow's Peak. You're lucky you found one of the ones that still has power, but don't worry, somebody is already on their way to you right now. You said a moment ago that you were being pursued. Can you confirm that?”

  “There was some maniac at the farm,” I stammer, “and he chased us, and my friend Ramsey fell through a hole in the ground and I managed to get away but I've been running through the forest for hours and I thought I wasn't ever going to get away but -”

  “Whoa, hold on there,” he replies, interrupting me. “That's a lot to take in, Leanne. Like I said, somebody from the station is heading up there right now to fetch you. You told me your name is Leanne Halperin and you're Chris Halperin's daughter. Is that correct?”

  “Can you please call my mom and dad?” I ask, starting to cry at the mention of their names. “Tell them I'm okay! Tell them I lost my phone but I'm okay!”

  “I'll do that, Leanne,” he continues, “but right now, I want you to stay on the radio with me until a deputy gets to the cabin. It should only be about twenty more minutes. Can you do that, Leanne? Can you stay on the radio and tell me exactly what's happened to you tonight?”

  “Thank you,” I whimper, keeping hold of the receiver as I slip down to the floor. I lean against the wall for a moment, and I swear I feel like I'm going to break down completely. “I thought I was going to die!” I whimper, finally unable to hold back my fear any longer as tears run down my cheeks. “You have to get someone up here. You have to save me, and you have to find Ramsey!”

  I stammer some more words, but I doubt he can understand anything I'm saying now. All the exhaustion and fear breaks through, and I start sobbing wildly. I'm crying so hard, I can barely even breathe.

  “We're gonna find you and your friend,” the voice says calmly. “Don't worry, Leanne. We're on it. And Leanne? You have my word, and the word of everyone here at the sheriff's station, that you and your friend are going to be just fine. You're not gonna be alone in that cabin for much longer.”

  Twelve

  Sheriff James Kopperud

  “Doctor Ward to room five,” the announcer says for the fifth time in as many minutes. “Doctor Ward to room five, please.”

  Sighing, I lean back on the bed. I was deposited here in this goddamn room about an hour ago and told to wait, and since then it's as if these people have completely forgotten about me. I'm assuming that Doctor Alexander is going to show up at some point and fill me in on what'll happen tomorrow, but I'm starting to think more and more that it's a huge mistake for me to be in this godforsaken place. She caught me in a moment of weakness, and she used Ramsey to trick me into accepting this stupid therapy program, but deep down I hate the idea of becoming a patient.

  I mean, I'm already in a hospital gown. I look ridiculous. And I feel ten years older in the space of just a few hours.

  Suddenly my phone starts buzzing. Reaching over, I see that Hinch is trying to get in touch. I hesitate for a moment, worried that somehow he might already know that I'm sick, but finally I answer anyway. I guess he'll find out soon enough.

  “Hey,” I say cautiously. “What's up?”

  “Up?” He pauses. “Why should anything be up?”

  “You called me,” I point out.

  “You didn't come back this afternoon. I thought you were gonna come back to the station and wait around for the report on the body we found. I stayed late in case you showed, but...”

  “Right,” I mutter, realizing that I probably should have given them a cover story by now. “It's nothing,” I add, sitting up on the bed. “I just got waylaid by some other, uh... avenues of investigation. How are things down there?”

  “Oh, fine,” he replies, sounding a little bored. “Everyone else has gone home, so it's just me at the station right now. There hasn't been so much as a phone call or a knock on the door, but I'm just getting on with some paperwork. Doctor Shaw says she'll know more about the dead girl tomorrow, she's running some checks on some kind of metal plate in one of the bones. She thinks maybe she can trace the serial number with the manufacturer, and then she can find out who the plate was used on. Something to do with a broken arm, I think. Lucky shot, huh?”

  “That's good,” I reply. “That's progress. How about the timeline?”

  “Doctor Ward to room five,” the announcer says yet again. “Doctor Ward, please report to room five.”

  “Where are you?” Hinch asks. “Was that -”

  “I've just got the TV on,” I tell him, before he can let his imagination run wild. “I'm watching General Hospital. How's the timeline? Are you managing to match anything up yet?”

  “I've made a stab at it,” he replies, “but honestly, I think you'll be better at that. You're coming in bright and early tomorrow morning, right?”

  Glancing at the window, I spot my reflection and see myself huddled here on the hospital bed like someone who's dying. For a moment, I'm staggered to realize that I look so
old and ill, but I quickly tell myself that the lighting in here isn't exactly flattering. I can't look that bad. Then again, I guess I am dying.

  “Sure,” I mutter, not wanting to admit that anything's wrong. I look over at the door, but there's still no sign of Doctor Alexander. “But you can hold the fort, Hinch. Just keep working on that timeline. Remember everything I taught you, and you'll be fine.”

  “I don't have much so far,” he continues, and I can hear him flipping through some papers. “I think you're gonna have to do the timeline stuff, James. It's a little too complicated for me.”

  “It's not complicated,” I reply, annoyed by how easily he's giving up. “It can be a little confusing at first, but you just have to go with your gut. You start with events that don't quite seem to fit together, and then eventually you'll suddenly get a lock on it all and the whole story'll snap into place and you'll see how A leads to B, and then onto C and so on. It's basic police work.”

  “I know, but -”

  “Tell me one of the things you've got so far.”

  “Can't you just do it tomorrow? When you come in?”

  “Tell me where you're at. You need to learn how to do this, Hinch.”

  I hear him sighing on the other end of the line. “There are tire tracks up near Pellow's Peak,” he says finally. “Could that be Something?”

  “Where at Pellow's Peak?”

  “Near mile-marker eighteen. There's nothing up that way, though.”

  “So why are there tire marks? Have any logging companies been out there lately?”

  “No. I checked. I actually did think to check that.”

  “There are cabins up that way,” I point out, “but they're not in use anymore. Did anyone go and take a look at Dodderidge Farm?”

  “Isn't that place abandoned too?”