ONCE BOUND

by Blake Pierce

  Who, then?

  Of course! The Detroit police.

  They could catch Eggers as soon as the train arrived there.

  She quickly found the phone number and punched it into her cell phone.

  When a voice answered, she said, “I need to talk to whoever is in charge there right now.”

  “How can I help you?”

  “This is Riley Paige with the FBI. I’m calling to report—”

  The voice interrupted, “Wait a minute! Riley Paige? The FBI woman I saw on the news today, the one who screwed up so bad in Wisconsin?”

  She heard him call out to someone else nearby, “Hey, guys! I’ve got that batshit crazy FBI woman on the line!”

  Riley felt her face redden with rage and humiliation.

  She wondered—how long would it take to undo the damage her reputation had taken during this case?

  She ended the call. What else could she do?

  She sat down slowly behind her desk, trying to collect her nerves.

  It’s up to me, she thought. I’ve got to stop him myself.

  Nobody else is going to.

  She ran a computer search for plane schedules and found what she needed. If she left right now, she could catch a late-night commercial flight from Reagan International Airport. She’d arrive at Detroit’s Wayne County Airport about an hour and a half later—before Eggers’s train reached that city.

  She could stop him right then and there at the Detroit train station.

  She wondered …

  Should I contact Bill and Jenn?

  Of course, she realized. They at least deserved to know what she was trying to do. She typed a text message to both of them that included a link to the article she’d found. She briefly explained her theory and gave them her flight schedule.

  She scribbled a note to her sleeping family explaining that she had gone away to work on the case again. She grabbed her gun and car keys, left the note on the living room coffee table, and raced out the front door.

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  When Riley arrived at the flight desk, she was breathless from haste and anxiety, and her head was spinning with dangerous scenarios and possibilities. Her mind boggled at the realization that had sent her here—and with thoughts of what she was going to have to do to stop Mason Eggers from killing again.

  She kept telling herself …

  I won’t know exactly what I have to do until I have to do it.

  Just when she finished buying her ticket, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

  “Hey, Riley!”

  It was Bill’s voice.

  She turned and gasped aloud as she saw Bill and Jenn hurrying toward her.

  “What are you doing here?” she said.

  Bill grinned at her as Jenn started to buy her own ticket.

  “What do you think we’re doing? You didn’t think we’d let you go alone, did you?”

  “But how did you …?”

  Riley was about to ask Bill how he and Jenn had gotten here so quickly. But of course, the answer was obvious. It was a shorter drive for them from Quantico than it was for her from Fredericksburg. As soon as they’d read her message, they’d gotten together and driven straight here.

  Riley felt overwhelmed. Their arrival here was much, much more than she had dared to hope for. She couldn’t find words to begin to express her gratitude.

  She wouldn’t have to do this alone after all.

  Later, she thought. After we’ve caught the killer.

  When all three agents had their tickets, they hurried to the departure gate, where the plane was already boarding. They showed their badges to the flight attendant and told her that they’d need to deplane as soon as possible after landing in Detroit. The attendant quickly found them three seats together near the door. Jenn sat between Bill and Riley.

  The three agents were still winded when the plane took off a few minutes later.

  “So,” Riley said breathlessly, “you believe my theory.”

  Bill and Jenn looked at each other, as if surprised by the question.

  Bill said, “Hey, that article you linked us to was pretty convincing.”

  Jenn added, “And the victims all resemble his wife so strongly. It’s surely no coincidence. And now, this is the anniversary of her suicide.”

  Riley shook her head and said, “I wish I could get someone else to believe me. And I’ve still got all kinds of questions of my own …”

  When the plane reached cruising altitude, Jenn got on the Internet to do some research.

  She said, “I’m finding out more about Mason Eggers. He left Dunmore soon after his wife’s death, then moved to Chicago where he became a railroad cop. He never remarried.”

  Bill asked, “Has he ever had any trouble with the law?”

  “Just the opposite,” Jenn said. “He had a distinguished career with the railroad police and got several commendations. As far as I can tell, he’s never hurt a fly.”

  New doubts started to creep into Riley’s mind.

  “I can’t make sense of that,” she said. But then she remembered the feeling she’d had that something had gone wrong in the man’s mind. She added, “He seems to have gone through some kind of serious psychiatric change. Schizophrenia, maybe?”

  “Maybe,” Bill said. “But as I understand it, schizophrenia typically starts in late adolescence or early adulthood—not in old age.”

  Jenn’s fingers danced on her tablet computer as she brought up more information.

  She said, “Schizophrenia is rare at that age, but not unheard of. It’s sometimes called very-late-onset schizophrenia when it occurs after the age of sixty. But older people can suffer from delusions, hallucinations, and mental confusion for other reasons. There’s a condition called Charles Bonnet Syndrome that involves visual hallucinations. And of course, he might be suffering from some physiological brain disorder—brain cancer, maybe, or early stages of Alzheimer’s or even Parkinson’s. There really are lots of reasons why his mental health might be failing.”

  The three agents thought in silence for a few moments.

  Finally Bill said, “It’s still hard to understand his behavior—as it relates to us, I mean. I know he put us onto that stakeout as a ruse. But some of his suggestions seem to have been genuine, even helpful—like how he listens to scanners to figure out freight train schedules. And the last town, Dermott—it really does begin with a D, following the alphabetical pattern he described.”

  Again, Riley felt an alarming surge of uncanny empathy with Eggers.

  She said, “Part of him wants somebody to stop him, and part of him wants to get away with his murders. Part of him is trying to help us, part of him is trying to trick us. He’s at war with himself. As lucid as he seems in person, he’s slipping into some kind of dementia, and he doesn’t know which he wants more—to go free or to face justice.”

  Bill scratched his chin and looked at Riley.

  “I’m just wondering one thing,” he said to her. “What made you look for that news story in the first place? Checking into that kind of ancient history is a pretty big intuitive leap—even for you.”

  Riley gulped. She couldn’t very well tell him about Aunt Cora’s phone call.

  She stammered, “It—it was just a wild hunch.”

  Jenn locked eyes with Riley. The younger agent looked worried.

  Riley was sure …

  Jenn has guessed what happened.

  They would need to talk about this sometime—but not now. Riley realized that she wasn’t eager to ask all of her many questions about Aunt Cora anytime soon.

  Coffee was served, and the three agents continued to quietly brainstorm. Jenn also arranged to rent a car at the airport so they could drive directly to the train station. But as the time for their landing neared, they heard the pilot’s voice.

  “Folks, I’m sorry to say that our landing is going to be delayed a bit. There’s some bad weather down in Detroit, so we’ll have to circle for a little whi
le—probably about twenty minutes.”

  As the pilot went on to assure his passengers about connecting flights, Riley and her colleagues exchanged looks of despair.

  “Twenty minutes,” Riley said. “We’ll be too late to meet the train when it arrives. He’ll abduct his victim after all.”

  Bill said, “Can’t we get somebody to pick him up at the platform?”

  Riley suppressed a groan as she remembered her desperate phone calls.

  “We won’t get any help from the Detroit cops, believe me. We don’t even have a warrant, and we’d never get one soon enough—even if this were still an open case, which it isn’t.”

  Jenn got busy on her tablet computer again.

  “We need to change gears,” she said, bringing up a map.

  She pointed to the map and explained, “We’re coming in west of Detroit, and Dunmore is also to the west of the city. But he’ll be arriving on the other side of Detroit. He’ll have to drive through the city to get back to Dunmore, but we’ll be able to drive straight there. We can get there as soon as he can. With any luck, before he does. “

  Riley stared at the map, hoping Jenn was right.

  But her worry was still building up.

  She knew that, tonight, Eggers was going to transport a victim to the very place where the tragedy of his life had taken place fifty years ago.

  We’ve got to be there too, Riley thought.

  We’ve got to get to the train tracks in time to stop him.

  But was that possible?

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  As soon as the plane taxied to a stop at Detroit’s Wayne County Airport, Riley and her colleagues were out of their seats and on their feet. The flight attendant made sure that they were the first passengers off the plane. They ran through the jet bridge and into the terminal, flashing their badges at startled security people as they went.

  The terminal wasn’t busy at that hour, so they were able to make an unbroken dash to the front of the building. Even so, Riley had the terrible feeling that time was slowing down and they were moving in slow motion.

  It seemed impossible that they would get to their destination in time to catch Mason Eggers.

  Worse, just as the pilot had warned—it was raining outside where their rental car was waiting for them. That hardly boded well for their efforts to spot and stop a killer.

  Riley got behind the wheel of the car, with Jenn next to her and Bill behind them. Hardly a word was said during the short drive to Dunmore, but Riley was well aware that her colleagues must be as anxious and worried as she was.

  The rain lessened to a drizzle as Riley drove, but the sky remained ominously dark and overcast, despite the fact that morning was near.

  When they reached the outskirts of Dunmore, Riley turned on the vehicle’s GPS system to navigate through the quiet streets of the little town. They were soon making their way through the neighborhood where Mason and Arlene Eggers had once lived.

  The area struck Riley as appropriately sad, full of rundown little houses that had seen happier and more prosperous days. Lights were coming on in a few of the windows as people were just beginning to stir. No one was out and about yet, which was just as well.

  Riley quickly found the road she had already chosen—one that ran parallel to the train tracks. High streetlights shed some light on overgrown empty lots and the occasional shabby buildings that separated the tracks from the road. None of the buildings themselves were well lighted.

  Riley pulled the car to a stop at the side of the road, and she and her colleagues stepped outside. The rain had completely stopped now, but the air and the ground were still wet, and the sky was still dark.

  The three agents moved quietly and spoke in hushed voices, knowing that the killer might be anywhere. They couldn’t let him know that they were here, looking for him.

  Riley pointed to the tracks and whispered, “Eggers’s wife committed suicide somewhere along this long curve in the tracks. The newspaper didn’t say exactly where. And we sure don’t have time to go searching through old police records to pin the place down.”

  They all looked around, hoping to catch some hint of the killer’s presence. But Riley knew that it was of no use. He could have parked a car in any secluded place, and he could be anywhere. He might already be dragging a drugged woman onto the tracks.

  Jenn whispered, “This is a long section of track and the visibility is really poor. The three of us won’t be able to watch the entire curve—not from here. Actually, not from any single point. Maybe we should roust up some local cops and raid the whole area with lights and guns.”

  Bill shook his head.

  “No,” he said. “If he sees anyone coming, he’s likely to just kill the woman and disappear for good. He knows his way around here. Anyway, we don’t have time for that.”

  They all were silent for a moment, then Jenn said, “I’ve got an idea, but neither of you is going to like it.”

  Riley immediately guessed what Jenn was thinking.

  She said, “You think we should split up, check out separate sections of tracks.”

  Jenn nodded and added, “We can text message each other when we see something.”

  “You’re right,” Riley said. “I don’t like it.”

  But as she stood there she realized …

  What’s the alternative?

  And they had to get moving.

  She said reluctantly, “OK, Jenn. You cover this area. Bill and I will drive on ahead and find our own sections.”

  Riley and Bill got back into the car as Jenn made her way among the lots and buildings, heading toward the tracks. Riley drove a short distance down the road and dropped off Bill. Then she continued on to find her own spot.

  After she parked and made her way between a couple of storage buildings, she saw just how difficult a task they all faced. She had arrived at the tracks, but there was no lighting out here. She could only see a short distance in either direction. She didn’t dare turn on her cell phone flashlight for fear of alerting Eggers to her presence.

  Now she knew that she and her colleagues had no choice but to stumble along the tracks until …

  Until what?

  The sun would come up soon, but the early morning was still and quiet—too still, deathly quiet.

  It seemed impossible to imagine that there was anybody but Bill, Jenn, and her for miles around.

  Just as Riley was trying to decide which direction to explore, a chilling sound broke the damp, dark silence.

  It was the wail of a faraway train whistle.

  It has to be now, she realized with a shudder. He must be somewhere near here.

  Her phone buzzed. She looked at it and saw a single-word message that Jenn had sent to both her and Bill …

  Here!

  She’s found him! Riley realized.

  Riley broke into a run in Jenn’s direction.

  *

  When Bill saw the message, he also took off running. He knew he was closer to Jenn than Riley was.

  He still hesitated to turn on his cell phone flashlight, which would announce exactly where he was. At least the sky was clearing up and a faint lightness overhead showed that dawn was on the way.

  Taking care not to trip on the railroad ties, he ran along as fast as he could.

  Finally he saw something moving on the tracks ahead. In a few more strides he could see two struggling figures.

  Jenn and Eggers! Bill realized.

  He switched on his light and dashed in their direction. When he reached them, he could see that a woman was already bound to the tracks beside the combatants—completely motionless, still unconscious from the drug.

  Jenn seemed to be prevailing over her opponent, but Eggers suddenly escaped her grasp. He started away alongside the tracks, with Jenn close behind him.

  Bill looked down at the helpless woman at his feet. The sound of the locomotive was growing louder.

  Much too close, he realized.

  And the woman wa
s taped to the track just as the others had been.

  He yelled at Jenn.

  “Leave him! I need help here!”

  Jenn whirled around. She hesitated but then dashed back and crouched beside Bill.

  “He’s getting away,” Jenn complained.

  “We won’t let him get far,” Bill said. “Help me with the woman.”

  Bill and Jenn both kneeled on the train track. They opened their pocketknives and desperately cut into the dense coils of duct tape that held the woman down.

  The woman groaned aloud and murmured, “Where am I?”

  By the time they got her loose, she was regaining consciousness.

  Suddenly she writhed and kicked, and Jenn shouted out …

  “Damn it!”

  The writhing victim was free now, and she was terrified. Bill briefly struggled with her and finally managed to heave her completely off the tracks. She rolled over, crying, but stayed where she was.

  He heard Riley’s voice call out …

  “Bill! Jenn!”

  “We’re here!” Bill yelled back.

  Now the locomotive’s headlight was visible in the distance. The train was rounding the far end of the curve in the tracks.

  Riley yelled, “Get off the tracks!”

  Bill moved to do that, but Jenn screamed.

  She was still lying where they had struggled with the victim, and Bill could see what was wrong.

  The heavy sole of her shoe was wedged sideways under the steel rail.

  She couldn’t pull herself loose.

  “It’s no use,” Jenn moaned. “Get off.”

  Bill’s mind flashed back to another young agent, Lucy Torres, who had died right before his eyes.

  Not again, he thought. Never again.

  With his pocketknife, he worked to slice the leather shoe, to free Jenn’s foot.

  Then Riley was beside him, tugging at Jenn’s leg.

  But the light was blinding now.

  Bill glanced up and saw the terrifying shape of the locomotive hurtling toward them.

  “Go!” Jenn yelled.

  For a long moment, it seemed that they would all die there.