Remnants

by Carolyn Arnold

  “Help us!”

  Stanley’s screams yanked Joshua out of his reflection, and then he heard hurried footsteps coming toward the door to the outer room.

  Joshua let go of his mother, and she collapsed to the floor, touching her neck and coughing, heaving for oxygen.

  “You led them here!” Joshua snarled, holding the blade to Stanley’s throat.

  JACK TOOK OUT HIS FLASHLIGHT, his weapon at the ready, and used it until he found a light switch. Through the door next to the kitchen there was an area that had black-out shades covering the windows. And within the space, another room was sealed off.

  “Stay here,” Jack whispered to Paige and Zach, who had cleared the second floor and were with us now. He nodded for me to enter first.

  The door to the inner room opened, and Joshua Haven emerged. He was dressed in black with a necklace of bones around his neck.

  “You have arrived,” he stated calmly.

  I didn’t care for his words or the way he was presenting himself to us. He was far too docile for it to be a good thing.

  “FBI! Put your hands in the air!” I shouted.

  Jack and I continued to approach, and Joshua didn’t move. As we got closer to him, I noticed that there was a makeshift sacrificial altar opposite the side room. A round stone and idol statues were positioned near it.

  “Joshua—”

  “I am Huitzilopochtli,” he boomed.

  The Mayan deity…

  That could be another reason why he made exceptions to the ritual. He was, in effect, offering the sacrifices to himself. Or so he believed.

  “We are here for you,” I said.

  Joshua smiled. “Yes.”

  “Get down on the ground with your hands in the air.” My heart was racing, pumped full of adrenaline.

  Joshua continued smiling and got down on his knees, doing exactly as I had asked. “You are here to free me from my earthly bonds. And Stanley is going to cross over, be reborn.”

  Hairs rose on the back of my neck, and tingles crept down my spine.

  Jack moved to go past me, but I had a horrible feeling and put my arm out to stop him. Joshua had mentioned us being here to free him; he mentioned crossing over and rebirth. Something told me it wasn’t just about Stanley. He did want suicide by cop, and I wasn’t in any mood to facilitate his desire. I holstered my weapon.

  “What are you doing? Free me.” Joshua looked upward and closed his eyes.

  I swept in quickly and snapped a cuff on his wrist.

  “No!” Patty Haven was running toward me, holding a blade and screaming. “Leave him alone!”

  My hands were busy with the cuffs, and I tried to hurry. Where was Jack? What was he doing?

  I glimpsed over my shoulder to find Jack standing back about five feet from me and Joshua. He was just staring as Patty was closing the distance.

  Shit! My hands weren’t cooperating, and my thumb was hooked on a cuff.

  “Jack!” I yelled.

  He was frozen in place.

  Patty was about five feet away when a shot sounded and she crashed to the floor. The knife slipped out of her hand and skittered across the floor. It stopped to Joshua’s right. I was on his left. I had to move for it, and fast.

  But I didn’t make it in time, and Joshua got hold of the knife.

  I backed up and drew my gun. “Put the knife down!”

  Joshua smiled as he slashed his own throat from ear to ear. Blood was spurting everywhere, and there was so much of it. He dropped to the floor, motionless.

  Joshua Haven was dead.

  I turned to look at Jack, and he was standing there, dazed. It hadn’t been Jack who’d saved my life. It had been Paige.

  He was all right, my ass.

  -

  Chapter 43

  THE PARAMEDICS CONFIRMED MY SUSPICION, announcing Joshua dead almost as soon as they’d arrived. His mother, though, would survive. Paige’s bullet had struck her in the arm so that she’d released the knife but wasn’t in any life-threatening danger. Stanley Gilbert had been freed and was being checked over by paramedics before officers were to escort him to the hospital for further testing where he’d be cuffed to the bed and under twenty-four-hour surveillance.

  The white van in the garage had been confirmed as Wayne Reed’s and the lidded garbage bin Stanley had used to abduct Eric Morgan was in the back.

  Crime Scene Investigators were swarming the Haven residence inside and out. The undercover officers in the boat were never called into play, but when they docked, they did find some human remains mired in mud.

  “And why didn’t anyone see this days ago when boats and officers were sent out?” Jack hadn’t gotten his edge back. He sounded almost as if he didn’t care.

  “It was just far enough back and hidden in cattails that the officers couldn’t see it,” Pike said, defending his brothers from Savannah PD.

  We were inside the room where the rituals had taken place. I was still trying to shake the fact that Jack had left me back there—at least mentality. I had to put some space between us for a bit or I’d say something I couldn’t take back, and that would probably wind up biting me in the ass.

  Death was palpable in the space as I walked around, and it wasn’t because Joshua had just died here. It was as if the screams of his victims resonated off the walls.

  A CSI was processing the contents of a locked cabinet where bones from hands and feet were kept inside glass vases. Add to this find, the many bones around Joshua’s neck, and I didn’t envy the people directly responsible for ascertaining how many victims we were looking at. The number of missing persons Nadia had found wouldn’t be near enough to account for all these bones.

  Inside the room where we had found Stanley, there was a table with a container of the blue paint, the ingredients for which CSIs were still looking.

  I walked over to where Joshua had made the sacrifices. The idols next to the round stone had smears of dark crimson on their faces, and I assumed it would test positive for human blood. There was a sort of ratcheting system set up around the stone, too, and I angled my head to figure out how it worked.

  “That’s how he stretched the victims out and dislocated their joints,” Zach said, coming up behind me.

  I straightened out. “Thanks for making that graphic for me.”

  “I’m sure it’s not the worst image you’ve had in your head since you came in here.”

  “True,” I mumbled.

  “He wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, you know.”

  I turned to face Zach. “He froze. If it wasn’t for—”

  “We’re all human, Brandon. Even Jack.”

  I studied his eyes. How could he not see it? Jack wasn’t the same man he had been before he almost died. “He’s changed. I’m not sure he can handle the job anymore.”

  “You know that’s not the truth.” Zach squeezed one of my shoulders. “He’ll be fine. Give him time.”

  I nodded, but my teeth were clenched. After all, this was my life we were talking about here. My thoughts shifted from dwelling on my mortality to the boulder I was staring at. It was enormous. It certainly would have been heavier than two men could carry. Even adding Patty Haven into the mix, there wouldn’t have been enough brawn.

  Then there was the matter of Tanya Lewis in South Carolina. She hadn’t recognized Stanley, but she’d described a dark-haired man of at least six feet. Sure, that could include a lot of men, but I had a particular one in mind. I walked back to where Jack, Paige, and Pike were.

  “Wayne Reed has to be in on this,” I said. “For one, there are a lot more remains here than the eighteen missing men from the last four years. There could be more prior to then, too. Ones that Reed could have helped with. Think about it—we haven’t found the components for the paint. At the very least, Reed could be mixing that
. But I’d wager he’s more involved. There’s no way a couple people could get that boulder in here.” I was pretty much winded by the time I’d gotten all that out. My heart was racing so fast. “And if that’s not enough, he’s had Stanley’s Prius all this time. He also admitted to knowing we were looking for Stanley and decided—” I attributed finger quotes “—to keep quiet.”

  “Have the officers watching Wayne Reed bring him in for questioning,” Jack directed Pike.

  Pike stepped away, his phone to an ear, but he didn’t say anything into the receiver. He spoke to us. “I’m not getting any answer.”

  -

  Chapter 44

  THE TEAM TOOK BOTH SUVS, and Jack had Pike on speaker. The two officers who were left to watch over Reed were Officers Poole and Weaver.

  “Dispatch can’t reach either officer,” Pike said. “Neither of them pushed the panic button on his radio. More backup is on the way, as well.”

  Jack turned into Reed’s driveway so fast that the vehicle’s frame rolled and had me reaching for the oh-shit bar. He parked it on an angle parallel to the building, and we both got out. Pike was right behind us, as were Paige and Zach.

  All of us gathered by the passenger side of the SUV, using the vehicle as cover between us and the house.

  “He doesn’t have any guns registered to him,” Pike said.

  “But if he’s overpowered two officers, you can be certain he’s armed now,” Jack stated. It was a sad likelihood, but I just hoped that both officers were alive.

  Backup arrived in the form of four cruisers with two officers per vehicle.

  Jack looked at each of us. “Ready?”

  Pike nodded immediately. I took a deep breath and nodded. Then Paige and Zach did, too.

  Jack directed Paige and Zach to go around back with Pike, and he and I took the front.

  The door was unlocked, and the chime that had sounded friendly before now came across as menacing. Jack and I entered the house stealthily, our guns at the ready.

  Inside, it was quiet…too quiet. Tile samples were strewn all over the floor, indicating there had been a struggle.

  Behind the service counter, an officer was lying on the floor, leads from a Taser still in his chest.

  I hurried toward him, holstered my gun, and felt for a pulse. I nodded at Jack and spoke through the comms so Pike would hear. “Officer Poole is alive.” I let out the breath I had been holding.

  “Thank God,” Pike said. “Any sign of Officer Weaver?”

  My eyes followed drops of blood toward a closed door. I pointed it out to Jack and drew my gun again. Holding it in one hand, I turned the door knob. Jack was standing there, braced to fire.

  “We’ve found Officer Weaver,” Jack said over the comms.

  “Is he…?” Pike didn’t finish his question.

  The officer was slumped over, chin to chest, but his head was rising and falling.

  “He’s alive, too,” Jack replied.

  I holstered my weapon again and got down next to the officer. I lifted his head back. He was out cold. Then I looked at the side of his neck and around the back, where there was a small prick in the skin.

  “He was drugged,” I said. “Probably the same thing used on Morgan, and likely the other victims.”

  Pike, Paige, and Zach joined us in the front.

  “No sign of Reed?” I asked.

  Paige shook her head. “Or his Corolla. Stanley’s Prius is in a garage out back, though.”

  Pike passed his gaze between his two officers, looking from one to the other. “Thank God, they’re alive.”

  The wailing sirens of ambulances were drawing closer.

  Jack pointed to the floor. “Let’s rip this guy’s life apart and find out where he might have run off to. Lieutenant, make sure that all of Savannah PD knows about the manhunt and to issue a BOLO for Reed’s Corolla.”

  The paramedics entered the house in a rush and attended to the officers. They weren’t with them long before the one paramedic said, “We’re going to load them up and take them to Memorial Hospital.”

  By that time, Jack had Nadia on the phone. “We need anything and everything on Wayne Reed right now.”

  “What did he do for work in the past? Any evidence of travel?” I asked.

  Jack nodded. I’d impressed him again.

  “Give me a few seconds…” Nadia told us.

  That, of course, turned into more than a few.

  “Nadia, give us something,” Jack pressed.

  “Okay, okay, no criminal background,” she said.

  “How long has he owned the restoration company?” Jack asked her.

  “Fifteen years, and before that he worked at Cox Incorporated for five years—the entire time he was married to Patty. Cox is a—”

  “A prestigious law firm downtown,” Pike interjected.

  “How does he go from a career in law to owning a restoration company?” I asked. “What did he do for the law firm?”

  “Oh, it says that he was a pilot.” Nadia’s voice lowered.

  More tingles down the back of my neck. How many more victims might we be looking at? “We need to know where he went during that time.”

  “Who’s the owner of the law firm?” Jack asked, superseding my question.

  “Benjamin Cox,” Pike answered. “The company is huge. They have clients all around the world. As a pilot, Reed could have gone anywhere and abducted people. But wouldn’t flight manifests and customs be an issue?”

  “There are ways around everything, and a motivated and organized killer could figure them out,” Zach spoke up.

  Jack looked at me. “We need to find out where Reed’s travels took him. But let’s also talk about where Reed could have gone now.”

  “He’s got to know that we’ll issue a BOLO on his Corolla, so he’ll ditch it the first chance he gets,” I said.

  “I agree,” Paige said. “He’d likely exchange it for another mode of transportation entirely—bus, train, plane.”

  “All we need is him hopping on a jet for a non-extradition country,” Jack snarled. “I’ll have him grounded.” He turned to Pike. “Get some men checking bus and train stations for him. Tell them not to go by the parking lot, as he might not have driven the Corolla that far.”

  “Makes sense,” Pike said.

  “Brandon and I are going to go speak to Benjamin,” Jack added.

  “Try his office first,” Pike suggested. “It might be Saturday evening, but that doesn’t matter to a man like Cox. He works twenty-four seven.”

  Jack turned to Paige and Zach. “You might have to wait around a bit, but you two go to the hospital and see what you can get out of Patty or Stanley as soon as you can.”

  “You got it, Jack.” Paige turned toward the door, Zach on her heels.

  -

  Chapter 45

  PIKE HAD BEEN RIGHT ABOUT Cox Incorporated. All the lights were on and some people were working. At least there was a woman at the front desk. She didn’t strike me as too happy to be there on a Saturday evening. Or maybe it was Jack and me standing in front of her holding up our badges that she didn’t like.

  “Supervisory Special Agent Jack Harper to see Benjamin Cox,” Jack said.

  The woman scowled. “He’s in a meeting, and he’s not to be disturbed.”

  She was definitely a gatekeeper, and she was probably paid handsomely for her ability to keep most people away from her employer. But Jack wasn’t most people, and we were with the federal government following a lead in a serial murder investigation.

  “A former employee is suspected of murder, and he’s missing,” Jack said. “We need to talk to Mr. Cox. Now.”

  The woman tilted up her chin and ran a hand down her neck. She pressed a button on the phone. “I know you said not to… Yes… This is an exception.” Her gaze wa
s going over Jack and me. “It’s the FBI. They need to talk to you about…murder.” She pulled off her headset. “He’ll see you now.” She got up and led us down a narrow hallway to an office the size of my first apartment.

  The flooring was a blond hardwood that reminded me of a basketball court, though that also might have had something to do with the hoop that was mounted to one wall. The walls were exposed cinder blocks, and the office had a modern, minimalistic feel to it. Cox’s desk was all sleek lines—black and glass. A sofa and matching chair were set up on an area rug that probably cost more than I’d made last year.

  Three men were in the room when we stepped inside, but two excused themselves, leaving us alone with Benjamin Cox.

  His pale skin would easily burn when exposed to sunlight or freckle immediately. I was someone who could recognize that curse. He was at least six four and lean. It wasn’t a surprise that he had an interest in basketball.

  Cox’s tongue flicked out between his lips, and he steepled his fingers in front of his chest. His mouth relaxed into a scowl. “What can I do for you?” He was clearly unimpressed and irritated by our interruption.

  “Wayne Reed,” Jack spat.

  “What about him?”

  “He used to be your pilot,” Jack said.

  “That’s right. Why are you here about him?”

  “He’s a suspect in an open investigation, and we’re looking for your cooperation.”

  Cox straightened his tie. “Fine. What do you need to know?”

  “You own a jet, yes?” Jack asked.

  “A Bombardier Global 7000, to be precise.” Spoken like a true elitist. “Why?”

  Jack shuffled right past Cox’s prideful statement. “We need a list of all the destinations he flew to.”

  “I’m not sure that I—”

  “Do you have something to hide?” Jack stared the man down, and after a few seconds, Cox lowered his shoulders.

  “I don’t.” He tugged down on his jacket. “But he did. I fired him because it came to my attention that he was making flights without my authorization.”

  “How did you find out about these other flights?” I asked.