A Trace of Crime

by Blake Pierce

  The force was startling; enough to smash her entire body back against the bottom step. The pain in her cheek made her gasp involuntarily. For a second, her vision was a constellation of flickering dots of color.

  As a result, she didn’t see the second strike coming. It landed on her right temple, making her lose whatever reserves of coiled tension she’d maintained until then. She slumped back, unable to move or even focus on anything but the screaming pain in her head.

  She was dimly aware that someone was dragging her by her feet along the dirt floor. She felt the back of her head bump on a few rocks, but that pain paled in comparison to the pulsating anguish that ran up and down the right side of her face.

  Ignore the pain or you will die. Find a way out of this.

  Keri forced herself to think. She should be dead. If her attacker had wanted to slit her throat, he could have done it by now. That meant he wanted her alive for a reason, even if only briefly. She had to use that window of time.

  She opened her eyes. Despite the blurriness, she saw that she was being pulled toward a lighted room at the end of the tunnel. The man dragging her was hard to see clearly because he was backlit but she could tell he was wearing some kind of mask.

  A few moments later they were in the room and she realized what it was—a beekeeper’s mask. The sheer weirdness of it made it scarier than she would have expected. Even in so much pain, she felt a fearful tightening in her chest.

  His face wasn’t fully visible behind the netting but it sure looked like the DMV photo of Johnny Peters. As she was squinting to get a clearer view, she felt her feet hit the ground. He had dropped them. The surface felt harder than before, like asphalt or concrete. As she processed that detail, she saw that he was coming at her.

  She tried to lift her hands in defense but they were only mildly responsive and never got higher than a few inches off the ground. His fist crashed into her chest and she felt all the air leave her body.

  She coughed and gasped, trying desperately to breathe. After what felt like an eternity, she was finally able to inhale. Slowly, she opened her watery eyes again to discover that she was curled up in the fetal position.

  She glanced around and took in the room for the first time. It too was lit by a single bulb above her head. The whole room was encased in concrete, which was surely soundproof. She was lying next to a metal pole that extended from the floor to the ceiling.

  On the floor near the pole was a metal bucket lying on its side. Even in her diminished physical state, she smelled something gag-inducing and could guess what the pool of liquid near the bucket was comprised of.

  Gently turning her head, she saw legs, four of them, about six feet away. She craned her neck up and saw something that filled her with both relief and horror. Jessica Rainey was standing directly in front of her, alive and conscious.

  But Johnny Peters was right behind her. His left arm was gripped tightly around her chest. His right hand held a hunting knife with a six-inch blade at the girl’s throat.

  Keri tried to speak but found that words were not yet available to her. Breathing was still a challenge. He saw that she was trying and apparently decided that he would beat her to it. And so, for the first time since she’d encountered him, Johnny Peters spoke.

  “You have interrupted the purification ritual. So now you will get to observe it. And then you will have the honor of being part of it.”

  Aware that he could act at any time, Keri made herself speak.

  “Your ritual is unclean,” she rasped. She wasn’t sure where she was headed with this, but anything that might confuse or delay him was worth a shot.

  “What?” he demanded, sounding both surprised and angry.

  “Johnny,” she mumbled as she rolled over onto all fours, “this isn’t how you planned it, is it? There’s no altar down here. Do you think the Creator would be satisfied with how you’re conducting this sacrifice?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice still edgy but more filled with bewilderment than fury now.

  “We’re beneath the earth, Johnny,” Keri said in a stronger voice, grabbing the pole and pulling herself to her feet. “This is no place to honor the Lord, where worms crawl and rats scurry about. I thought you wanted to purify Jessica. But doing it down here is shameful. She should be up there, on the altar, in the full light of the Lord. To do it in this hole would be a transgression against him. Is that what you want?”

  As he thought about it, Keri took stock of the situation. She was in pain but she was functional. She knew she could move if she had too. She had no weapon but Johnny Peters didn’t seem to have anything but the knife. Jessica looked filthy and terrified. But other than what looked like thorn pricks, she didn’t appear to be physically injured.

  “You’ve given me no choice,” Peters snarled, snapping her focus back onto him. “You’ve interfered with the sacrament. It’s no longer safe to do it up there. The creator will understand that my motives were true. He will forgive me.”

  Keri saw his grip tighten on the knife and spoke quickly.

  “Will he?” she asked. “Have you really shown pure motives, Johnny?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Would someone who is proud of what he’s doing hide his face behind a mask? Or would he let the Lord look down upon his servant without hindrance?”

  “I took it off before, when I was about to consummate the purification,” he insisted.

  “Then do it again now, if you have nothing be ashamed of.”

  He did exactly that, keeping the knife at Jessica’s throat as he let go of her with his other hand, ripped the mask off, and tossed it in the corner. The face underneath it didn’t evoke any sense of pure evil. Johnny Peters was just a thirty-year-old man with dark blond hair, cut short. His skin was tan, a result of working outside all day. His blue eyes would have been pretty if they weren’t so frenzied.

  “Satisfied?” he asked petulantly.

  “You shouldn’t be asking if I’m satisfied. You should be asking if he is, the Creator. I, for one, don’t think he is.”

  “Why not?” he asked, regripping the knife. Keri noticed that he had inadvertently nicked Jessica’s neck and a thin line of blood was trickling down toward the burlap dress she wore.

  It’s now or never. He’s confused. I have him on his heels. Go for it.

  “Because if he was, why would he have sent me, Jason?”

  “What did you call me?”

  “I know who you are, Jason Petrossian, because the Creator sent me. He ordered me to stop you. I am his angel of vengeance.”

  “You’re lying! You’re just trying to trick me!” He was shouting now.

  “Then why would he tell me that I am the guardian angel for them?”

  “For who?” he screamed.

  “For the girls you tried to kill, Jason. I have been sent to bring them back to you.”

  “What are you talking about? Tried to kill?”

  “You know who I’m talking about, Jason. You tried to kill Bethany Jeffers in Pennsylvania. You tried to kill Noreen Appleton in Missouri. But the Lord resurrected them.”

  “Resurrected?” he whispered as his eyes widened. Keri saw his grip on the knife loosen slightly.

  “He made me their guide,” she continued, not wanting to lose the momentum. “I’ve brought them to you, Jason. I’ve brought them here, at the Lord’s behest, to show you the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “Ask them yourself,” she said, nodding at the tunnel behind him.

  Jason turned to look behind him. As he did, Keri reached down, grabbed the bucket on the floor, and silently stepped toward him. He started to turn back to her.

  “I don’t see—”

  But before he could complete the sentence, she was there, swinging the bucket down onto the knife with one hand as she pushed him away from Jessica with the other. Off balance, he stumbled back against the wall of the room.

  Everything seemed to slow down. Keri
saw Jason looked down at the knife. She hadn’t knocked it out of his hand but it had speared the bucket, which now covered the blade. He stared at it as if he couldn’t quite understand how such a thing was possible.

  “Run, Jessica,” Keri yelled at the girl, who looked equally dumbfound. “Down the tunnel and up the stairs.”

  Jessica Rainey didn’t need to be told twice. She turned and sprinted for the door. Jason lunged at her but Keri leapt at him at the same time, knocking him against the open metal door. He crumpled to his knees as the force of the collision bounced her back into the center of the room.

  The metal door, which had banged hard against the wall, rebounded and swung back. As they both watched from the ground, helpless to stop it, it slammed shut. Keri heard a clicking sound as it locked in place.

  Jason stared at the door in disbelief. Then he turned back to her, his expression turning to a mix of both rage and something close to pleasure. He grabbed the rim of the bucket and yanked the knife free from it. A cruel smile came over his face.

  “Now,” he said as he got back up, “you’re trapped in here with me.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  Keri got to her feet as well. An unexpected calm came over her. Jessica was safe. Even if Jason had a key to the door, there was no way he would get to her before she escaped and found help. The police would be here any second, if they weren’t already.

  Of course, they wouldn’t make it in time to help Keri, stuck down in this dungeon with a madman. But something occurred to her in that moment.

  I don’t need their help.

  “No, Jason,” she said slowly. “You’re trapped in here with me.”

  A flicker of hesitation passed across his eyes. That was all she needed.

  All her training kicked in as she rushed at him. He turned to face her, the hunting knife firmly in his right hand. He started to swing it sideways at her. At the last second, she dropped to the ground, feeling a ripple in the air just above her head as the knife passed over her.

  She rolled into him, letting her momentum slam into his legs. He was already off balance from his swing and miss. Keri knocked his feet out from under him, making him topple forward onto his front.

  Keri, who had never stopped moving, popped up out of her roll and moved back toward him. He was still holding the knife. Even though he was in an awkward position, he swung it back toward her, just as she’d been expecting.

  She stayed barely out of reach and let it pass just in front of her before slamming her foot down on his forearm, pinning it against the ground. The blade was facing away from her so she smashed her other foot down on the back of his hand. His grip failed and the knife fell from his fingers. She kicked it into a dark corner of the room, next to a dark lump she hadn’t noticed before, one that looked suspiciously like a body.

  Jason was still wincing from having his hand crushed but tried to get up using his other one. Keri kicked his arm out from under him and his left side thudded down hard onto the concrete floor. Now he was lying on his back, gasping for breath.

  She didn’t wait for him to recover. Instead, she dropped on top of him, her knees using his stomach to break her fall. That forced his chest and head to lurch up and forward like one end of a see-saw, just as she knew they would. She punched his face as it rose to meet her fist. They connected cleanly and his head dropped back down. His skull hit the ground with a satisfying thump.

  He groaned in agony but she didn’t care. She punched him relentlessly about the chest and face, over and over again. She didn’t stop until her knuckles were raw and she could no longer feel her arms.

  Finally, she reared back and looked down at him. He was still, other than the slight movement of his chest rising and falling. He didn’t appear to be conscious.

  In the silence, Keri felt a sudden pounding in her ears. It startled her so much that she lost her balance and fell off Jason Petrossian. After a moment, she realized the sound wasn’t actually coming from her own head but from the door. Someone was banging on it.

  She thought she heard another noise as well. It sounded like a dull murmuring. Eventually, it hit her. People were on the other side of the door, shouting.

  She got onto her hands and knees and patted Jason down. In his right front pants pocket, she found a long metal key. She crawled over to the wall and used it to brace herself as she got to her feet. Then she stumbled over to the door, put the key in, and turned. There was a click. She saw the handle lever move and stepped back as the door opened.

  Standing in front of her was Ray. His right thigh was heavily bandaged. Along with him stood the entire Missing Persons Unit. Hillman and Suarez were on either side of Ray, each holding onto him to keep him from losing his balance. Edgerton and Castillo were next. She was leaning heavily on him. Patterson followed and bringing up the rear was Frank Brody. He was bent over, breathing heavily with his hands on his knees.

  “You okay?” Ray asked.

  “Uh-huh,” she said, though she wasn’t sure of it. “Petrossian’s on the floor in there. He’s unconscious for now.”

  Suarez left Ray to Hillman’s care and stepped into the room. Patterson quickly followed. Apparently he was embracing more fieldwork. Keri started to walk out of the room but suddenly became aware that all the pain she had ignored until now was rushing back at her.

  The whole right side of her head ached. Her chest burned. And as she stepped forward, the knee that had hit the stairs seemed to lock up on her. She felt herself starting to fall forward.

  Keri reached out for the wall but it was too far. She was halfway to the floor when she felt a pair of arms catch her and ease her down gently. She looked up to see Brody’s worried face.

  “Frank,” she said, smiling up into his bloodshot eyes, “I didn’t know you cared.”

  And then she passed out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  Unlike some of Keri’s many hospital visits, this one only lasted twenty-four hours. The doctors determined that none of her injuries required more than an overnight precautionary stay. She had bruising on her chest from the punch there. Her knee was swollen but there was no structural damage. Despite being hit twice in the head, she didn’t have a concussion.

  They had worried that she had an orbital bone fracture near her right eye. She’d gotten that same injury to her left orbital bone in a prior confrontation with another abductor last year. But she’d gotten off lucky this time—only a puffy, purple face.

  As she lay on her apartment couch recuperating, multiple well-wishers came by. She did her best to be friendly and conversational. But deep down she was already itching to get back on the hunt for Evie. The doctors had insisted she stay off her feet for at least twenty-four hours and she was already going stir-crazy.

  As a result, she found herself getting impatient, despite her best efforts not to. Ray, who was staying with her to help out, clearly sensed her frustration and tried to keep the visits short.

  First the Raineys stopped by. Little Nate was excited that a policewoman lived so close and asked if she wanted to come over for a play date.

  “Maybe when I feel a little better,” Keri suggested, managing to keep the edge out of her voice for the little guy.

  Tim Rainey couldn’t stop thanking her. He used up all the tissues he’d brought and went through some of Keri’s with all his nose-blowing and tear-dabbing. But otherwise he kept it together. Jessica wasn’t very talkative but she did hold Keri’s hand the whole time they were there. Carolyn lingered a bit as Tim took the kids downstairs.

  “The psychologist says she’s still in shock,” she said when they’d all left. “Recovery is going to take a long time. But she sent her home anyway. She thinks it’s better for Jess to be in a familiar environment. We’re going to have someone visit daily for a while. But I wanted you to know that physically at least, she’s okay. Only some cuts, scrapes, and dehydration.”

  “I’m glad,” Keri said.

  “That’s because of you. We won’t ever f
orget it. And I won’t forget that you saved my husband too. I know you’re going through a rough time with your department right now. But you should know—I’m going to be very vocal and visible in the press. If you lose your job, it’s not going to be because my voice wasn’t heard.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Rainey,” Keri said quietly.

  “It’s Carolyn. And by the way, I’m bringing you cookies tomorrow, so be on the lookout.”

  Other team members came by throughout the day, although Frank Brody didn’t make it. According to Edgerton, he claimed to be under the weather. But everyone suspected the guy just couldn’t handle any more warm fuzzies.

  Castillo called in from the hospital. She was being kept under observation because of the concussion she’d suffered in the bomb blast. She said they expected to let her go the next day and that she’d stop by in person then.

  Sheriff Calvert called to check on her as well. He said the department was setting up a team to retrace Petrossian’s whereabouts during his time in Elkhurst. Now that they had something to go on, he hoped to find Noreen Appleton’s body.

  Keri drifted in and out of sleep for much of the late afternoon. When she finally sat up, Ray told her that Mags had called while she was taking a nap earlier and would check back in with her after she’d had a few days to rest. Hillman came by in the early evening and his visit ended up being longer by necessity.

  “Are you recovered enough for some updates?” he asked, pulling a kitchen chair into the living room and plopping it down in front of Keri’s couch.

  “I get the feeling they’re coming whether I’m ready or not.”

  “I’m afraid so,” he admitted. “Where do you want to start?”

  “How’s Winchester?”

  “He’s in the burn unit with first-degree burns over forty percent of his body. They have him in a medically induced coma so it’s too early to know what other damage he might have suffered. I’ll keep you posted. Also, I don’t know if you want to attend, but Crowley’s funeral is the day after tomorrow.”