Eminent Danger

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Eminent Danger Page 15

by Megan Fatheree


  Emily sighed deeply, hoping that the FBI wouldn’t do something rash. She knew that Troy had killed those girls, she just didn’t know why. And the resuscitation was really confusing her. She had a long way to go if she were going to figure out what he was up to.

  “We’re leaving?” she asked.

  He nodded. “We have to get away from these cops. They’re freaking me out.”

  Emily nearly laughed. The cops were freaking him out? He was freaking her out.

  “Where are we going to go?” she asked.

  He began to pace again. “I have a cabin. In the woods. Maybe we’ll go there.”

  She nodded. He wasn’t going to reveal anything to her with the FBI right outside the door. She needed him to take her to that cabin. To somewhere that he could feel safe. Somehow, she needed to relay that to Sam and Nate. She began to silently formulate a plan.

  Sam kept pacing the lawn, hoping that something would happen. They had a sports car on the way, but he was afraid that the man had already done something to Emily.

  “Stop it, Sam!” Nate yelled at him through gritted teeth. “You’re wearing a line in the grass.”

  Sam looked down and noticed that he really was. The grass was beginning to pull out, leaving a line of dirt. He shrugged and began to pace again.

  “Ok,” Nate said, grabbing Sam’s arm. “We are going to go re-examine a crime scene.” He dragged Sam to the door of the truck and peeked in. “Marshall, you’re in charge.” He practically stuffed Sam into his car and raced away.

  Only five minutes later, they arrived at the dilapidated house where Lester Herman had been murdered.

  “What are we looking for?” asked Sam, snapping into work mode and peeling on some gloves.

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll know when I see it. We have to have missed something.” Nate started into the dining room and began to flip through mail.

  Sam poked his nose into the living room, looking for who-knew-what. All he came up with was an empty beer can and a television remote. Along with three dollars in change from the couch.

  “I got something!” Nate yelled from the dining room.

  Sam practically bolted to the room and saw Nate holding a crumpled letter in front of him.

  “What is it?” Sam asked.

  Nate finished reading and shook his head. “Peculiar. I believe the word I’m looking for is peculiar.”

  “What does it say?” Sam reiterated.

  “Oh, it’s a hate letter. Something about I know what you did to Lani and I’m coming to get you. It’s signed Bruce.”

  “Is there a last name?”

  “Nope. Just Bruce. But something about it seems off. We should take it into evidence.”

  Sam nodded. “Fine. Can we get back to Emily’s house now? Our hour is almost up. I need to be there.”

  “Ok,” Nate agreed. He grabbed his keys and the two of them set out once again.

  Emily heard the phone ring and sent up a silent prayer. This needed to go down well.

  Troy spoke with the negotiator for a good two minutes before hanging up and pulling his gun out of its hiding place. He grabbed Emily’s arm and pulled her to her feet.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He wrapped his arm around her neck and pointed the gun to her head.

  With a deep breath, Emily told herself he wouldn’t harm her.

  “I’m coming out!” he yelled out the door. “Everyone stay far away from the pathway.”

  Emily could hear commands and shuffling as they did as asked. She closed her eyes briefly and allowed herself to be pulled along out the door.

  Every policeman and FBI special agent had a gun pointed directly at Troy. Unfortunately, Emily knew that he was holding her too close for them to shoot. Instead, she searched for Sam or Nate in the crowd. She spotted Sam along the front lines. She threw a questioning gaze his way.

  “Bruce,” he whispered quietly as she passed.

  She also spotted Nate toward the end of the line. As quietly and motionlessly as she could, she shoved her hand into her pocket and clicked a button on her phone, making it light up through her pocket.

  Nate nodded at her and backed up a little.

  Troy kept the gun pointed at her as he slid her into the car and started it. He didn’t lower the gun until they were well down the road.

  “Sorry about that,” he said with a smile. “We got away. I’m just amazed that we got away.”

  Emily nodded slowly. Sure he was. He was really beginning to creep her out.

  “She knows we found a letter from someone named Bruce,” Sam said, approaching Nate and holstering his gun. “But there’s no way we can track her.”

  Nate smiled. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Emily, brilliant as she is, has her phone in her pocket. If she texts someone, we can ping it and get her location.”

  “Does she know that?” Sam asked.

  “Does she know that?” Nate asked back, sarcastically. “Does she know that? Sam, I think you highly underestimate the genius that is Emily.”

  Sam shrugged. “I’m just being logical here. What if she doesn’t know?”

  Nate rolled his eyes. “Sam, she purposefully showed it to me. She knows. Don’t be such a worrywart.”

  “Are you going to give me that definition as well?” Sam asked sarcastically.

  Nate shrugged. “I was thinking about it.”

  Sam sighed and walked a few yards away. He had lost her. They had the guy trapped and they had just let him walk away. And they hadn’t even tried to follow him.

  TWENTY

  Emily sat down at the table in the middle of the room and carefully inspected her surroundings. This was not a cabin, as he had said. This was more of a shack. It was a three-room home made of plastic siding and poor insulation. The interior walls were barely finished, as far as she cold tell.

  “So where exactly are we?” she asked for the fortieth time.

  Troy laid the gun on the end of the table and sat down across from her. Thankfully, he hadn’t tried to shoot her. At least not yet.

  “I told you. This is my cabin.”

  She rolled her eyes. This was literally getting her nowhere. He was hardly capable of saying anything other than “this is my cabin”. He never gave a location, and he never mentioned how he got it.

  “What are we going to do now?” she asked, trying to change the subject to something less controversial.

  “I was thinking we might eat. I haven’t eaten supper yet. Have you?”

  “No,” Emily said. “What do we have to snack on?”

  He stood up and glanced around. “Well, we have some beef jerky.”

  Emily made a face.

  “Beans?”

  She shook her head. “Maybe I’m not as hungry as I thought.”

  On top of that, she wasn’t entirely sure that he wouldn’t poison her. Or slip her some new drug. Or stab her with a steak knife. No, it was probably safer to remain hungry. Soon, she would begin to pry. She just wasn’t to that level of faith yet.

  Sam sucked in a deep breath and tapped Nate on the shoulder.

  Nate spun from his command position and raised his eyebrows.

  “Jewel’s here,” Sam said quietly.

  Nate winced and nodded. “Please walk with me. I’m not too sure that she won’t shoot me.”

  Sam shrugged. He didn’t have anything better to do. Until Emily texted someone, they wouldn’t have an exact location. She hadn’t texted anyone yet.

  “Nate Michael Wesley, what do you think you’re doing?” Jewel exploded as they neared her position just outside the crime scene tape.

  Nate tossed his hands up. “I really don’t know what you mean, baby.”

  She ran a hand through her long hair. “I mean you let Emily get kidnapped! You were supposed to be watching out for her. What happened to that?”

  Sam raised a hand to interject, but Jewel shot him down.

  “I will get to you in a minute. I would like to yell at my fiancé first. Thank you.” S
he turned back to Nate. “Explanation. Now.”

  “The guy has a gun, Jewel. Do you want her to get shot?”

  Jewel narrowed her eyes. “Ok, Sam. Your turn. Why was she alone in the house?”

  He mentally kicked himself again. This could have all been avoided. If he had done his job thoroughly, this would have been avoided.

  “She told me her mother was staying over again. I believed her and didn’t bother to double-check the story. It’s my fault, and I take the blame.”

  Jewel immediately softened. She stepped forward and engulfed Sam in a hug. “Don’t say that. This isn’t your fault. It could have happened to anyone. Besides, if you had been here he could have shot you. We still would have been in this mess.”

  “Well,” Nate started, “now that that’s all cleared up…”

  “Listen up, bub,” Jewel said harshly. “I never said it wasn’t your fault. I was simply comforting Sam.”

  Nate put his hands on her shoulders and smiled disarmingly. “I love you. Even when you’re angry at me.”

  She pushed his hands off, but smiled as well. “Fine. You’re forgiven. On that note, I have someone with me who would like to speak to Sam.” She waved to someone behind her and they came running.

  Sam groaned. It was Loretta, still in complete evening garb.

  “Where’d you pick her up?” he asked sarcastically.

  Jewel shrugged. “I don’t know. She came with some tall muscleman. I guess she heard me asking for Nate and wondered what was going on. I explained my relation to the two of you and now we’re friends. Easy as that.” She smiled.

  Nate rolled his eyes and shrugged off one of his coats. “Come on, Jewel. You’ll freeze if you don’t put something warm on. Let’s head to see Jasmine and Marshall.”

  Jewel smiled, took the coat, and followed Nate.

  Sam smiled at his mother and extended his arms for a hug.

  She pushed them away momentarily and studied his face. “That girl has been taken, hasn’t she? The one you’re in love with.”

  Sam nodded solemnly.

  Loretta walked forward and pressed his head to her shoulder. “Oh, my poor baby. It’s alright, we’ll get her back.”

  Sam noted Matt watching them and gave him a warning glance. He immediately stopped laughing.

  “Mom. Mom. Mom!” Sam had to say it three times. She finally looked at him. “I know that we’re going to get her back, because we already have a plan in motion. Would you like to meet the rest of the team?”

  She thought about it for a moment. “Alright.” She followed him to the truck where Nate, Marshall, Jasmine and Jewel all sat, reminiscing over cups of hot chocolate.

  “Guys, meet my mother.” He motioned to her.

  Nate smiled. “Hey, I know you. Nice to see you again.” He extended a hand.

  After introductions had been made all the way around, Sam led his mother back to the police line.

  “Please go home and get changed into something warmer,” he begged.

  She folded her arms. “I want to be there when you find that girl. She will need someone to comfort her.”

  Sam rolled the idea around in his head. “You can’t be with us when we close in, but I can have you close by. If I promise that, will you please go change?”

  She nodded. “Alright. But I will be back within the hour.”

  Sam hugged her once again. “Ok. See you then.” He watched her until she and Matt were safely down the road.

  “Sam!” Jewel yelled from behind him. “Get in here!”

  Hoping they had made a break in the case, he dashed back to the truck. “Did we get the chronological order of victims?” he asked.

  Nate nodded and presented him with a map.

  Sam couldn’t believe his eyes. Why hadn’t they seen this before? The deaths were all along roads connecting Illinois with Pennsylvania. It was amazing. Troy was definitely their killer, but why?

  “Uh, Sam,” Marshall said. “Court order got us the confidential records from Sunny Acres.” He held up a printed piece of paper.

  Sam took one look and groaned. The man’s files had been erased. There was no record of what he was being treated for.

  Emily watched Troy as he devoured a can of refried beans. Personally, she thought it was disgusting. She barely liked refried beans warm, let alone cold out of a can. A can, she might add, that had been opened with a pocketknife. Yet another weapon to worry about.

  She carefully pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. Still eyeing Troy, she silently asked God what to do with it.

  With trembling fingers, she typed one word and sent it to Sam. It didn’t matter how relevant or irrelevant that word was, it could be pinged once it was received. Once it was sent, she lifted the phone onto the table.

  Troy stared at it. “Where did you get that?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I have something that I need to show you. May I?”

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  She made her way to the pictures she had downloaded the day before. All of them were pictures of the dead girls. She pulled up the first one.

  “Do you recognize her?” Emily asked.

  Troy nodded. “Yeah. I spoke with her. What about it?”

  “Do you know her name?” Emily asked.

  He nodded again. “Sure. That’s Maddie Carrington. Nice girl.”

  Emily was slightly confused. He didn’t seem to realize what he had done to these girls. “Troy,” she said, “you know she’s dead, right?”

  The look that passed across his face was one of genuine surprise. “What?” he asked. “When? Who would want to do that?”

  Emily bit her tongue, barely holding back the answer she wanted to blurt out. “How about this girl?” She asked, flipping to the next one. Then the next and the next. Until, one by one, he identified them all.

  “They’re all dead?” he asked, on the verge of tears again.

  Emily wondered how far she could push him.

  “I spoke to them. Asked them where you were. They’re really dead?”

  She nodded. “Each one of them.” She stopped on the last picture. “Except this one. Melanie. She’s still missing,” she paused, “Troy, where’s Melanie?”

  He began to actually cry. “I don’t know. Last time I talked to her, she was safe.”

  “Troy, why did you need to talk to them?”

  He breathed deeply. “They were like Lani. They all knew where you were.”

  Sadly, she shook her head. “No, they didn’t. What do you mean they were all like Lani?”

  “Like you and Lani. Their families were torn apart. They liked to talk to me. We had so much in common.”

  Emily finally understood. Melanie hadn’t been the intended victim. She showed him the picture again.

  “Troy, this is Melanie, not Rachel.”

  He looked up at her. “No, that’s Rachel. I made sure it was Rachel. You’re mistaken. Melanie was the other girl.”

  She shook her head. “No. Melanie’s parents are worried about her. Rachel is worried about her, too.”

  “How could I have gotten it wrong? Rachel knew where you were. I’m sure of it.”

  “Where is she, Troy?” Emily asked again. “Where’s Melanie?”

  “I…I don’t remember. I thought I took her home. I meant to take her home.”

  All of a sudden, the pieces began to click into place. The killing and resuscitation, Lester’s death, even the missing girls.

  Emily knew this probably wasn’t the best idea, but she decided to push harder. “Where is she, Troy?” she asked loudly.

  He began to breathe even harder. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” He looked down at the table.

  “Yes, you do. Think harder. If she doesn’t come back safely, you’re going to jail. And you’re probably going to hang.”

  His jaw hardened and he looked at her from the top of his eyes. “Don’t threaten that,” he said viciously.

  She gave a half-smile
. “Hello, Bruce.”

  He tipped his head in her direction.

  Sam paced the floor, tapping his fingers on his phone. “So, we don’t know what Troy’s being treated for because the asylum destroys their records once a quarter? That’s dumb. How would they know what he was being treated for if they destroyed it? No, they’re simply hiding it because they don’t want us to know that they let a clinically insane person escape.”

  Nate rubbed his temples. “Sam, would you sit down? She’ll text us soon.”

  Sam sat with a pout. “She’d better. If she lets herself get hurt, I’m going to kill her.”

  “You realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?” Jasmine asked, typing something into the computer. “Ok, here. I found it. We should have just checked the internet in the first place. Troy Herman was placed in Sunny Acres Asylum and diagnosed with…uh-oh.”

  “What?” the guys asked in unison.

  Jasmine grimaced again, but went on. “Diagnosed with schizophrenic split personality disorder. Also with an extra delusional state of mind. Did I mention that he has split personality disorder?”

  Sam pressed his hands to his temples. “No. This cannot be happening. Emily doesn’t even know that.”

  His phone began to tweedle and he sat up straighter. Unlocking it and nearly punching the button to read the text, he sighed.

  “Precipice? All it says is precipice. What does that even mean?” He glanced at Nate. “Not the literal definition.”

  Nate rolled his eyes. “It means she’s sending us her location. Marshall, get on it.”

  Marshall gave a thumbs-up and pulled up an email screen. “Contacting the main offices. They should be able to tell us where she’s at in a matter of minutes.”

  “In the meantime,” Nate continued, “I get to go tell the SWAT team that they don’t have to freeze anymore. They can load up and come with.”

  Sam nodded. “Good idea. I’ll notify my mother.” He dialed her number as Nate dashed out of the van.

 

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