No Escape (No Justice Book 2)

by Sean Platt

  “Interesting. And have you gotten anything on that yet?”

  “Aanya’s working it, but I doubt the killer used his own phone. Might have been a burner.”

  “And we’re sure this waitress isn’t connected to the killer?”

  “Doubt it.”

  Mal paced in the hallway, looking out the windows to the parking lot below. Thunder rumbled as rain pelted the windows.

  “What about the victim?”

  “Which one?”

  “The last one he killed. He spent most of his time talking to her. They need to be looking at her, finding out if she’s any relation to any of the victims at the ball field, specifically Chip Halverson. Maybe talk to the guy’s daughter, see if she knows the woman. Or Coach Kincaid.”

  “So, you still don’t think this is random?”

  “If it’s random, then why does he spend more time with these two people? And why does he cut the audio?”

  “Good point.”

  “What are the Behavior Analysis people saying?”

  “They think this is random.”

  Mal shook her head. “They saw the same videos I saw, right? How could they not have noticed him talking to the victims?”

  “There was some discussion, but the consensus is that he was savoring the moment because they were his last kills. But I’m sure they’re considering every possible angle. They’ve brought some of their top people from the Jacksonville field office and a couple more from Quantico.”

  Mal stared out the window, taking a long sip of coffee.

  Mike was quiet until she finally spoke again. “What if we don’t catch this guy?”

  “We will. There’s no way he vanishes with this much heat.”

  “It’s happened before. Not here, but hell, there are plenty of unsolved serial killings.”

  “Two in a few days? This doesn’t seem like someone looking to lay low. I think he’s only going to ramp up.”

  “Me too. And may your God help whatever crowd he walks into next.”

  Mike joined her in staring out the window. “You need a ride home?”

  “No, I’m staying the night.”

  “What?”

  “She doesn’t have anyone else. I feel responsible. I pushed her to Victims Services, which set off a whole chain of events.”

  “Yeah, but you couldn’t have seen that coming.”

  “She said her dad would kill them. I didn’t think he’d do it.”

  “Still, you can’t blame yourself.”

  “It doesn’t matter who is to blame. Me, her father, Fate, whatever. All I know is that there’s a kid all alone in a coma, and she needs someone by her side. Someone to hold her hand, and talk to her. A reason to hang on.”

  Mike nodded. “How about dinner? Want me to bring you anything?”

  “Nah, go home to your wife. Kiss her and tell her how you almost got us all killed by a train today.”

  Mike laughed, then hugged her goodbye. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Mike.”

  Mal returned to Katie’s room, sat in the chair, and held her hand.

  She wasn’t sure what to say. She’d read a book on coma patients when a former informant of hers, Karen Kelton, had gone into a coma following an overdose. Recent science said that it was important to talk, let the patient know that she isn’t alone. It was thought to help people survive, and sometimes even wake from their comas.

  She’d never tested the theory on Karen, who had died before Mal had a chance to see her.

  She looked at Katie and shook her head, vowing not to repeat that mistake. “Is there anything you’d like me to talk about? A story you’d like me to read?”

  She squeezed Katie’s hand, but the girl didn’t even flutter her eyelids.

  Only the sounds of the ventilator and the rhythmic beeps of the heart monitor filled the room.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you about how I got into law enforcement. Maybe I’ll throw in some stories about the dumbest criminals I’ve ever arrested. Sound interesting?”

  No response.

  Mal told her story anyway.

  * * * *

  CHAPTER 22 - JASPER PARISH

  Jasper stared at the large storefront of Fixed Fitness, a trendy gym where Bobby worked the front desk after school.

  Bobby joked and laughed as he checked in a steady stream of muscular men and fit women in tight workout clothes. He was hoping to see him flirting with the girls, as evidence that he wasn’t interested in Jordyn as much as any hot girl that came along.

  But the boy didn’t seem to be flirting with any of the women or leering as they passed his desk — surprising given his age. What high school boy wasn’t leering at half-naked women in a gym?

  “Don’t do it,” Carissa said from the passenger seat.

  He squeezed it as he struggled to decide whether to go in or leave.

  It had been a week since Jordyn’s curfew breaking debauchery. A week since he punished her for a month, saying she could only go to school and straight home, that she couldn’t hang with Bobby outside of school.

  A week since their Cold War began

  She hadn’t given him more than a few icy words. Their tentative friendship had now been replaced by a standoff in which neither would show the flaw of apology.

  She’d answer his questions in short, clipped sentences, but other than that, Jordyn didn’t utter a word or laugh at his attempts to joke around.

  She hated him.

  The day after the dance, when he’d sat her down to dish the punishment’s excruciating details, he’d forbidden her from dating Bobby. According to Jordyn, they weren’t even dating. Bobby had asked her to the dance, and that was it.

  When Jasper tried to broach the subject of whether or not anything sexual had happened, without being too judgmental or accusing the boy of taking advantage of her, Jordyn ignored his questions.

  Which only reinforced his opinion that something had happened. He wanted to tell her it wasn’t her fault, and that she could talk to him, but he couldn’t get the words out in a way that didn’t piss her off.

  He finally dropped it.

  Carissa asked, “What are you going to say to him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, that sounds like a terrific plan!”

  “You have something better?”

  “Yeah, go home and forget this.”

  “Not an option. Besides, I’m sure he already saw me.”

  Carissa shook her head. “Why are you here, Jasper?”

  “I want to know what happened. I want to know why that boy got our daughter drunk.”

  “Okay, let’s just say it was for nefarious reasons. Do you expect him to tell you? ‘Oh, yeah, Mr. Parish, I got your daughter drunk so she’d sleep with me! She was out cold, but I had fun!’”

  Jasper glared at Carissa. “That’s not funny.”

  “I’m just trying to show you how ridiculous this is. What boy is going to be honest with the father of the girl they like?”

  “So, you agree, he’s only after one thing?”

  “I didn’t say that. But he is a teenage boy, and all teenage boys are after that, but that isn’t exclusive of being in love. Think about when you were a kid. You wanted to get laid. But you also felt like you were in love, right?”

  “I was stupid then. I didn’t know what love was.”

  “You’re acting like love is this one thing, that it doesn’t change. When we’re younger, love is impulsive, but is it any less of an emotion? No. You can’t discount what either of them feels just because they’re kids.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Stop what? Making sense?” She leaned toward him, smiling at Jasper like she did when she was right and he was about to swallow a mouthful of crow. Her eyes sparkled. He wished he could reach over and touch her, hold her close again. This time he’d never let her go.

  “Fine. You’re right,” he said, opening the car door.

  She called out after him, “
If I’m right, where are you going?”

  “I still want to talk to him.”

  He slammed the door and walked toward the gym.

  Bobby looked up from his monitor as Jasper entered. His eyes widened with surprise, but he quickly recovered, smiling as he stepped out from behind the desk to greet Jordyn’s father with a handshake.

  “Hello, Mr. Parish,” he said from behind his firm shake.

  Jasper stared him in the eyes, wanting to put the kid on blast for getting his little girl drunk. He resisted, for now.

  Bobby spoke. “Listen, before you say anything, I just want to apologize. Jordyn told me that you were upset with her coming home drunk, and that’s all my fault.”

  A good start. Jasper kept his mouth shut, waiting for Bobby to say more.

  Bobby asked Jasper if he wanted to go outside and discuss it. He nodded. Bobby asked one of the girls he worked with to watch the desk for a few minutes. They went outside, circling the parking lot as Bobby talked.

  “Believe me, that’s not a normal thing, us getting drunk. Well, not for me, anyway. Some of the other kids, well, they’re a different story. In truth, I was nervous as hell going to the dance with Jordyn. I like her a lot and thought maybe a bit of drinking might calm my nerves, make me more confident. But before too long, a bit was too much. I shouldn’t have ever offered her any. It was a terrible decision, and I’m sorry.”

  “What about the weed? She smelled like a Phish concert.”

  “Neither of us were smoking, I swear. Hell, I’ll take a drug test if you want. But some of the other kids were, and it’s kinda hard not to smell like it when you’re around. But I don’t smoke, and neither did Jordyn.”

  They’d walked toward the side of the shopping plaza, out of earshot to anyone that would matter to either of them.

  Jasper stopped. “What happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m asking if you took advantage of my daughter.”

  He held Bobby’s gaze. The boy seemed scared, but he didn’t flinch or look away.

  “No. Nothing happened, I swear.”

  As a cop, Jasper’s bullshit detector was rarely wrong. He could smell a lie, no matter what a person might say or do to try and hide it.

  And while he didn’t think Bobby was telling him everything, he believed him on two counts: Jordyn didn’t smoke, and nothing sexual happened between them.

  Jasper nodded, then reached up, pinching a nerve in Bobby’s shoulder to render him temporarily paralyzed. “Okay, here’s the deal, Bobby. Jordyn is all I have left in this world. Her mother died of cancer, and I’m what they call overprotective. I’m not happy with what happened after the dance. At all. But I won’t tell my daughter who she can and can’t see. However, I’m telling you right now, man to man, that if you ever get my daughter drunk, or high, or bring her home in that sort of condition again, I will kill you. I’m not exaggerating. I mean that I will murder you and nobody will ever find your body. Are we clear?”

  Bobby swallowed hard and Jasper released his hold.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good,” Jasper said, then offered his hand.

  Bobby shook it, barely.

  Jasper shook his hand hard, leaning in just close enough to look Bobby right in the eye to prove that his threat was stone cold serious.

  He left Bobby standing alone, hopefully needing a clean pair of underwear.

  * * * *

  CHAPTER 23 - MALLORY BLACK

  Mal woke in the darkness to an obnoxious bleating.

  Startled, heart racing, she sat up in the chair, hand reaching for her gun only to remember that she’d turned it in after the shooting and had yet to get issued a new one. Her personal firearm was back at the hotel. But a weapon wasn’t needed — it was the emergency broadcast system coming through the hospital room TV.

  She found the remote, lowered the volume, then checked on Katie, still alive but unconscious.

  She picked up her phone from where it was charging on a portable table next to Katie’s bed and glanced at the clock. 3:15 AM.

  She set the phone down, then turned the TV back up as a familiar face appeared on-screen — Calum Kozack.

  “Authorities are searching for any information on the whereabouts of nineteen-year old Calum Kozack, son of Oliver Kozack, CEO of White Label Empire. Calum was last seen three days ago at Vibes night club in Coral Cove.”

  She watched as a reporter interviewed Calum’s mother, Marilyn Kozack, on-screen.

  “It’s not like him to leave for so long. If anyone knows anything, please call. We’re offering a reward for any information leading to his whereabouts.”

  The camera cut back to the overnight TV15 news anchor, Jillian Harris, who reminded viewers that Calum Kozack was recently involved in a scandal involving the alleged rape of an underaged girl.

  Mal stared at the screen, at the smiling, good-looking young man. She wondered how many others could see through to the darkness inside him.

  Kozack only got off was because his father pressured the DA, Lyle Dobson, to not file charges.

  Maybe karma finally caught up with him.

  Mal wondered which detective got saddled with the case. Mike would’ve called if it were him. She felt sorry for whoever it was — no doubt the Kozacks would be at the station daily to bitch, trying to find out why their precious prince hadn’t been found.

  They were likely too oblivious to see, or too sociopathic to care, that the sheriff’s office had its hands full with a serial murderer.

  Mal remembered a few years back when Calum had been a person of interest in one of the department’s suicide cases. The girl’s father had insisted that Kozack and a few other kids were to blame. He accused Calum of some nasty stuff, but with the victim dead and the evidence almost nonexistent, the DA argued that there wasn’t enough to bring the case to trial. Calum walked. His involvement never made the press.

  And a few months ago, he walked from yet another case, though this time the girl was very much alive, and the story leaked in all its ugly glory.

  Mal wondered if this was a case of revenge. Maybe the father, brother, or a friend of the raped girl took the law into his own hands. Maybe—

  Katie’s arm moved.

  Mal dropped her phone, went to the bed, waiting for another movement.

  But the girl was still.

  Mal pressed a button and called the nurse, told her what she’d seen. Then the nurse called a doctor who came in to check on Katie.

  Mal waited outside the room, pacing, hoping for good news. But that wasn’t what she got when the doctor finally emerged.

  Katie’s movement was a common occurrence. It could be a good sign, but then again it might be nothing.

  After the nurse and doctor left, Mal returned to her chair, held Katie’s hand, and told her more stories — this time about Ashley.

  * * * *

  CHAPTER 24 - JORDYN PARISH

  Jordyn was lying in bed reading a book when something hit her window.

  She hopped to the floor, killed the light, parted her curtains and looked outside to see Bobby on the lawn.

  Shit! What is he doing here at nearly two in the morning?

  She opened her window and whisper-shouted, “What are you doing?”

  “I need to talk to you,” he said, too loud.

  Jordyn shushed him, praying that her father didn’t wake from his drunken slumber in front of the living room TV.

  It had been nearly a month since her punishment. She was on winter break, and it had been a loooong week since she’d heard from Bobby. A loooong week at home with her father. Christmas was in two days, and the house didn’t have a tree or a single colored light.

  Bobby was a salve for her eyes.

  But if Dad saw him on their lawn at this hour, he’d probably punish Jordyn for another month. Maybe forbid her from ever seeing Bobby again.

  He ran toward her window, looking for a way to climb up.

  “No,” she whispered.<
br />
  “Then come down, Rapunzel,” he said, still too loud.

  Jordyn sighed, long and deep, then told him to hold on.

  She left the window, went to her bathroom and flicked on the light for a once-over. She was in sweats and an oversized black Fallout tee.

  She opened her door slowly, listening for her father. To her surprise, the sound machine purred from behind his closed bedroom door. He hadn’t fallen asleep on the couch.

  She closed her door, went downstairs, and slipped on her sneakers. She disarmed the alarm, opened the door, and went outside.

  But Bobby wasn’t on the lawn.

  He’s trying to climb up to my window!

  She was about to run onto the lawn when he leaped out from behind her.

  Jordyn yelped.

  He covered her mouth, laughing.

  She laughed.

  He kept his hand over her mouth, staring at her.

  Bobby looked tipsy, or maybe high. Jordyn didn’t smell any alcohol, but he was definitely sweaty.

  “I missed you so much,” he said, his hand still on her mouth. He moved it and kissed her, surprising Jordyn with an unexpected intensity.

  His hands slid over her back, then down, squeezing her ass.

  Bobby’s hardness pressed against her belly.

  It was the first time she’d ever felt a penis. It shocked and aroused her.

  He kissed her harder, his tongue darting around hers as his hands swam to her front then climbed to her breasts.

  Jordyn backed away. “If my dad sees us, he will kill you.”

  “I know,” he said, smiling. “He told me.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, he didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Nothing. Forget I mentioned it.”

  “Tell me, Bobby.” Jordyn crossed her arms.

  “He came by my work and said that he couldn’t stop you from seeing me, but that if I brought you home intoxicated again, he’d kill me.”

  “Oh my God, he is so lame. I’m so sorry.”

  “No, he’s right,” Bobby said, his voice slurred. “He’s your dad. He loves you. If you were my daughter, I’d kill anyone who brought you home in that condition.”