by Janie Crouch
Or perhaps his intent had always been to kill Steve and he didn’t care who saw.
Over the man’s shoulder Steve could already see Lillian and the other Omega agents escorting the patrons out of the restaurant.
“Don’t let any of them go,” Steve said into his communication device. He didn’t care if the man across from him knew he had backup. Let him worry.
“We’re getting everyone’s info. Why don’t you worry about the guy pointing a gun at you.”
“I’m assuming Ashton has him in his sights.”
“Roger that, boss,” Ashton’s voice came through his ear. “But you’ll be scrubbing brain matter off yourself for a long time.”
Steve was tempted to tell him to take the shot. He had a gun, was pointing it at Steve, might turn and start shooting innocent people any moment. It would be considered an unfortunate but necessary kill.
Steve wasn’t even sure he’d consider it that unfortunate.
But something wasn’t right. Since his one sentence introducing himself, the man hadn’t said anything. His hands were shaking. He was sweating.
“Nervous?” Steve asked.
The man nodded. “I’m the Watcher.”
“Yeah, you said that.” Steve took a sip of the cup of coffee Lillian had given him while Rosalyn was here, more to put the other man at ease than anything else. “Don’t you have anything else you want to say to me? You know we have the place surrounded, don’t you?”
“I am the Watcher.” The man was sweating and the gun in his hand was shaking.
“Jon, you got an opinion of what’s going on here?”
“Obviously the guy is highly stressed. I don’t know, Steve. If I had to guess, I would say this isn’t him. But then why is he pointing a gun at you?”
Tears squeezed out of the man’s eyes. “I am the Watcher.”
Steve gestured to Lillian to come over and plucked a pen out of her pocket. The Watcher continued to point the gun at Steve, not paying attention to Lillian.
Because he thought she wasn’t a threat or for another reason entirely?
Like being given instructions to keep the gun pointed on Steve.
“What’s your name?” Steve asked the man.
“I am the Watcher.”
“How about I arrest you and we figure out your name once you’re in custody.”
The gun shook more, but the man didn’t pull the trigger.
Steve wrote on the napkin. Are you being forced?
He spun the napkin and pushed it over where the man could read it. Tears poured out of the man’s eyes as he nodded. He reached up and flipped his collar.
It was a transmitter just like he’d found on Rosalyn’s clothes.
The Watcher was using this man as a patsy.
“All right, look, let’s just talk this out. Okay?”
The man nodded that he understood. Steve wrote on the napkin. Can he see you?
The man shook his head no. Steve gestured for him to put down the gun. After a few moments he did so.
“You know I’m police, right?”
“I am the Watcher.”
Evidently that was all the man was allowed to say. Steve grabbed another napkin. Where is the man who did this?
At my house. Will kill my wife and kids.
“Look, just put the gun down. It’s me you want. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt by accident.” Address?
The man wrote it. Then, I have to kill you or he will kill them.
Jon’s voice sounded in his ear. “I’ve got the address, Steve, and we have agents en route to the guy’s house. They’ll go in silently.”
Steve picked up the gun and handed it to Lillian.
“You have to put the gun down. If you were going to shoot me, you would’ve done it by—”
Lillian shot the gun over his head into the wall.
“Oh my God, that guy just shot that guy. He’s got a gun!” she screamed at the top of her voice.
“Hey, he’s running away—” Derek yelled out, helping along the charade.
Steve reached out and grabbed the transmitter from the guy’s collar. He dropped it to the ground and stomped on it.
“Any others?” he mouthed.
The man shook his head, confusion plain in his eyes.
“We’ve got law enforcement en route to your house,” Steve told the man. “What’s your name?”
“Donny Showalter. He told me I had to come in here and shoot you. He told me all I could say was that we hadn’t met and that I was the Watcher.” The guy put his face in his hands. “I have to get to my house.”
“How far do you live from here?”
“Only a few blocks.”
“Steve, our agents are there,” Jon told him. “We have eyes inside. The family is tied up but no one is hurt.”
He relayed the information to the man, who promptly deflated on the table in relief.
“Is anybody there with them?” Steve waited for the information to be relayed back to him.
A few minutes later Jon was back in his ear. “Steve, the wife says the guy who tied them up left right after Donny did.”
He’d been around here. Maybe in the coffeehouse or directly outside. Seeing what happened. Probably hoping they would kill Donny and cause even more chaos.
“Is my family really okay? I need to see them.”
“I’ll have them call you in just a minute, okay?”
Donny nodded.
“Can you tell me anything about the man who put you up to this? What he looked like?”
“No. He broke into our house this morning while we were having breakfast. He was wearing a mask.”
Damn it. The Watcher had been smarter than they thought. He’d been making sure this wasn’t a setup, and if he was anywhere in the vicinity, he would know that Steve was much more deeply entrenched in law enforcement than just some sort of beat cop.
Taking him by surprise was no longer an option.
“Steve.” Jon’s voice was more somber than he’d ever heard it.
“Go, Jon.” He pressed the earpiece farther in his ear so he could hear over the chaos going on around him.
“I just got word from HQ. Travis Loveridge and Rosalyn never checked in. They found the car about a half mile from HQ. Loveridge is dead. Rosalyn is missing.”
* * *
ROSALYN HAD AGENT Loveridge’s blood all over her. Her arms, her neck, her hands. She couldn’t get it off.
Of course, dried blood was the least of her problems.
She stared at the man driving the car. “I remember you. You’re Lindsey’s psychologist from when she was a teenager. Dr. Zinger.”
“Zenger.” He turned and smiled at her. Like they were old friends or something. Like he hadn’t walked up to the car while they were stopped at a red light and shot the agent driving. Like he hadn’t been stalking and terrorizing her for the better part of a year.
Rosalyn shrank back against the car door. He hadn’t touched her at all, except to catch her when he drugged her and tied her hands, but she didn’t want to take a chance.
She was barely holding it together. If he touched her, she might start screaming and never stop.
“Lindsey liked you,” she whispered. “Thought you were so handsome.”
Rosalyn remembered. They’d been eighteen. Lindsey had been in trouble again and sent to group counseling this time. When Rosalyn had come home from college for a semester break, she’d asked her sister how things were going.
Rosalyn hadn’t been encouraged when all her sister would talk about was how hot the counselor was rather than showing any interest in truly kicking her drug habit.
He was handsome, if Rosalyn could distance herself enough from the terror.
Clean-cut, short brown hair. Good physique. But all Rosalyn saw was the monster.
“You killed her,” Rosalyn whispered.
He shrugged, not looking at her. “If it helps, she never knew it was me.”
It didn’t help at all.
Rosalyn’s hands were tied with some sort of zip tie. “Where are you taking me?”
“We have to get out of Colorado, of course. Your boyfriend is already dead—I sent a friend of mine in to shoot him. Since Steve didn’t know who I was, I’m sure he won’t care that it wasn’t me who actually killed him.”
Rosalyn stared and could hear her breath sawing in and out of her nose and mouth. Was he telling the truth? Was Steve really dead?
“I wasn’t exactly sure how the whole café scenario was going to play out. But when I saw you leave out the back door, I knew it had been some sort of setup. How did you know I would be there?”
Rosalyn tried to get her panic under control. She had to keep the fact that Omega Sector was onto him a secret. “We didn’t. I guess Steve was doing stuff just in case. I was hitching a ride from that guy to the bus station. You didn’t have to kill him.”
Zenger’s eyes were narrowed as he turned to look at her. She wasn’t sure if he was buying her story. “Hitchhiking is dangerous.”
She bit back a hysterical laugh. “Ended up being much more dangerous for him.”
She looked out the window again. They were on the interstate. There was no way she could jump out of the car now and survive.
She refused to believe him when he said Steve was dead. Zenger hadn’t been there; he’d been too busy killing that poor agent who’d been with her. There was no way he could know for sure Steve had actually died. Maybe the shot hadn’t killed him.
Steve was alive and would be coming for her. He and Jon and Brandon...they would figure out who Zenger was; they would find him.
Steve would rescue her. He wouldn’t leave her and the baby in the hands of this madman.
She had to hold on to that or there was no way she would survive.
They sat in silence for miles.
“Where are we going?” she asked again finally.
“Back to familiar ground. I’m from Mobile too, you know. I have a nice little place where you can stay.”
“And do what?” She couldn’t keep the revulsion out of her voice, not that she tried.
He laughed, a friendly sound under any other circumstances. “Rosalyn, I’m not like that at all. I don’t plan to force myself on you in any way. That’s beneath me.”
“But killing people isn’t?”
He sighed. “I don’t kill out of choice or some sort of sport. Honestly. It brings me no pleasure.”
“Then why kill at all?”
“For the research. This is all for science, Rosalyn.”
Oh God, Jon and Brandon had been right all along with their profile. That gave Rosalyn hope that they would be able to follow through and find her.
“Science?”
“I am a psychologist. I help people. The data I’m collecting about isolation will be used to help disturbed people for decades to come.”
He honestly believed it.
“Isolation?”
“Yes, yes, that’s what all of this has been about. I take young women and divide them from everyone in their life. I prey upon their worst fears and then see what they do to cope. How long they can last.”
She wondered if he would tell her, if she asked, about the tracking devices. About the dentist and the one in her tooth. But she didn’t want to tip her hand.
“What happens to them when they can’t last any longer?”
Zenger shook his head sadly. “Unfortunately, they commit suicide. It’s a regrettable side effect of this research. But don’t you understand? The loss is acceptable for the greater good. I am on the forefront of research that every mental-health-care professional would love to be a part of.”
If it hadn’t been absolutely sickening, Zenger’s zeal for his work would almost have been commendable.
“Was that what you wanted with me? For me to kill myself?”
“You, my dear, you have been the longest-lasting subject in my research.” He glanced at her again. “And to think, you weren’t supposed to be my original subject.”
“Lindsey was.”
“Exactly. But I realized that the drug abuse made Lindsey a poor test subject. You were much stronger, more resilient. I just had to wait for the right time.”
She assumed that meant wait until she went to the dentist. The dentist that Lindsey had suggested. Had suggested because a doctor mentioned it to her.
Zenger had been that doctor. Had helped orchestrate the entire thing from the beginning.
“I’m sure your pregnancy has played an important role in your resilience. You don’t want to die. You want to live for your baby.”
Maybe she could get him to understand that. Make him think that she could understand the importance of his research so he would let her go.
“Yes. The baby is an unforeseen variable with me, I’m sure.” Rosalyn nodded. “It must mean I can’t fit into the conceived categories and corrupt your data analysis.”
He nodded, obviously glad she understood. “I forgot you majored in accounting. So you are familiar with data and experimentation.”
“Yes. You’re obviously the expert, but I do have some knowledge. I know the baby changes things.”
“You’re absolutely right. He does. I had to really think about what needed to be done when I found out you were pregnant.”
“Dr. Zenger, now that you’ve explained it to me, I see how important your research is. Like you said, the baby changes things for me. I can never be truly isolated from people when I have a little person growing inside me.”
“That’s exactly right, Rosalyn. I’m so happy you understand.”
“So you’ll let me go? You know I will never tell anyone about your research. Unless you want me to, of course.”
She meant it with every fiber of her being. If she could get out of this with both her and the baby unharmed, she would do whatever Zenger wanted.
Steve would hunt him down to the ends of the earth, but Rosalyn would stay out of it.
“No, I can’t let you go, Rosalyn. I’m sorry.”
She tried not to let the disappointment crush her. She needed to reason with him. “But what about the baby? Like you said, I don’t fit any categories anymore. I’m not useful for your research.”
“Rosalyn, you were an outlier even before the baby. I’m not sure you would’ve ever been statistically useful.”
“Then why are you taking me to Mobile?”
“I’ll keep you there until you have the baby. Then, unfortunately, I’ll have to kill you. Like you said, you’re not useful for my research anymore.”
“What about the baby?”
“Oh, he will give me a lifetime worth of data. Just think of what I’ll be able to do.”
Suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the car. Rosalyn reached for the handle of the door. She didn’t care that they were on the interstate. She couldn’t stay in this car a moment longer. She would have to take her chances with jumping.
Zenger swung the car toward the shoulder, slowing rapidly, grabbing her arm tightly to keep her from jumping out.
She fought him. Slowing was what she wanted him to do. It gave her a better chance to survive.
“Stop, Rosalyn.”
She kept fighting.
He pulled the car to a stop, both of them slamming forward as he hit the brakes hard. Now he had both hands to hold her with.
She didn’t care if she had to stay here and fight him for the rest of her life. She was not going to let him drive her somewhere where he could keep her baby and do
experiments on him.
She felt a sharp sting on the side of her neck. It took only a few moments before all her movements began to feel slushy.
“No...” she whispered. She felt tears leak out of her eyes, but her arms were too heavy to wipe them.
“You fought the good fight. Now go to sleep.”
She tried not to, but in just moments the darkness pulled her under.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Steve did what he did best: worked the problem.
He did not focus on the fact a psychopath had Rosalyn in his clutches. Did not focus on the fact that they had no idea where said psychopath was taking her or how they would find her. That they still had no idea what the Watcher looked like or where he was from.
Because if he focused on those things, the fear and agony would overwhelm him.
He’d known helplessness when Melanie had died; it had ripped a hole in his heart.
But he knew he wouldn’t survive if Rosalyn didn’t make it.
He kept that all pushed aside because it would do nothing to help them find her now.
Travis Loveridge was dead. Evidently the Watcher had walked up to their car while they were stopped at a red light and shot him point-blank in the head. There had been witnesses, but no one had been able to see the Watcher’s face. They’d seen him pick up a woman—an unconscious woman with long black hair—and carry her to his car parked at the side of the street.
A gray sedan. There were thousands of them on the roads. They were checking, but so far a dead end.
They’d pulled up the feed from the traffic camera, but it had been pointing in the wrong direction. Another dead end.
Brandon was interviewing Gavin from the café and his wife. Molly’s lab crew was checking for forensics at the house. But so far...
Steve was studying computerized maps. Working on the assumption that the Watcher was taking Rosalyn out of Colorado. He assumed back to Mobile.
But it was too far to make it in one day. Steve knew from personal experience a week ago going the opposite way. He had every Omega person who could be spared making calls to hotels along the interstate heading south.
