The trees thinned. They burst out into a small open area. A stingy crescent moon dribbled light. Kaycee whipped her head around, seeking a house, a road. Nothing but more woods.
Two green eyes low to the ground stared at them, unblinking.
Hannah yelped. Kaycee jerked her back into the trees. They ran. Hannah clutched Kaycee’s hand. “Wh-what was that?”
“I don’t know. A cat.”
They bore left, skirting the meadow. Hannah was slowing. “I . . . can’t go . . . any more.”
“Can’t stop yet.”
Kaycee slipped and went down on one knee on something hard. Pain shot into her joint. She whooshed out air and forced herself up, limping.
Time stretched on, the forest never ending. No houses, no help. No road. Where were they?
Hannah cried harder. The guttural sounds filled the night. “Shh,” Kaycee squeezed her fingers.
“I c-can’t go any m-more.” She sank to the ground.
Kaycee sat down beside her and drew her close. “Hannah, shh. You have to be quiet.”
Hannah buried her face in Kaycee’s neck and choked her tears into silent gulps.
Kaycee felt a tree trunk at her back. She shifted and leaned against it, exhausted.
They breathed and rested. For how long? Were they far enough away from the cabin? Hannah stopped crying. Finally they huddled, shivering.
How much night remained? They had to find help before the dawn betrayed them.
Noise in the distance. Kaycee froze, head cocked.
A crackle of underbrush. A second and third.
Rodney.
Hannah sucked in a breath and whimpered. Kaycee slid an arm around her shoulder and drew her in. She put her mouth to Hannah’s ear. “Shh. Don’t move.”
The snapping grew closer. Kaycee’s muscles tamped down. Should they run? He’d hear them.
She couldn’t have wounded him as badly as she thought. He might move faster than she could push Hannah. And he had a gun.
The sounds kept coming. Kaycee tilted her head, gauging. They were a little to her right. Twenty feet? Ten?
The noise stopped. Kaycee could hear Rodney’s thick breathing.
Hannah ducked her head farther, shuddering. Kaycee’s arm around her shook. Her heart rammed, her body craving oxygen. She pulled in air through her nose, willing absolute silence.
Time spun out. Rodney’s clothes rustled.
Oh, God, please, God . . .
Hannah’s fingers dug into Kaycee’s side.
“I smell you,” Rodney said.
Sudden light beamed through the darkness. Kaycee stiffened. It cruised away from them to the right. The left. Underbrush crunched. Kaycee could make out Rodney’s left arm, holding the flashlight. His right hand clutched the gun. The beam arched around, spanning over trees, a bush, a fallen dead trunk, sweeping toward them, twenty feet away . . . fifteen . . . ten.
Kaycee’s breathing stopped.
Hannah lifted her head, saw the light. She squeaked.
The beam swung to her face.
She slapped a hand over her eyes.
Rodney wheezed a long, mocking laugh. “Well, well.”
He made his way toward them, chuckling, so proud of himself. Kaycee watched him come, one leg dragging. This thief and murderer, killer of her daddy and policemen, kidnapper of children. The man who filled her mother’s life with terror.
Kaycee’s mouth hardened. Something within her shifted, then snapped. Like ice flow her fear broke off and drifted away.
She eased her arm from around Hannah’s shoulders. Slid both palms to the ground. The muscles in her legs quivered, gathering energy.
Rodney stopped three feet away. Kaycee could see blood smeared on his face. “Did you really think you could run from me, Tammy?”
“You never caught my mother.”
His jaw flexed. “Where’s the money?”
“She sank the boxes in the Atlantic Ocean.”
Rodney’s head pulled back. “You’re lying.”
Kaycee glared at him.
His gun moved to aim at Hannah. “Try again.”
“Okay, okay, just kidding!” Kaycee raised both hands. “They’re in some cave at a rocky beach on the ocean. Not too far from where we lived. Maybe I could find it . . .”
He stared at her, assessing. “If you’re lying, she’s dead.”
“Would I lie to you?”
He backed away two steps. “Get up. Slowly.”
Hannah shrank against Kaycee’s side. Kaycee pushed to her feet, helping the girl up. “I don’t know how to get back to the cabin.”
Rodney gestured with his head to the right. “That way.”
Even with a gun at their backs, the return trek seemed so short. They had gone in circles. Directed by the flashlight, Kaycee helped Hannah in as straight a line as possible, over fallen logs, through thick forest. Along the way, she prayed.
They stepped from woods to a sudden clearing. There sat the cabin, dim light filtering from a dirty side window.
“In the car. You’re driving.”
“All the way to New Jersey?” Obsessed was too tame a word for this guy.
“I’ve hunted you for twenty-six years. Nothing is stopping me now.”
They headed over soft wild grass toward the SUV. Rodney opened the back door for Hannah to crawl in. She collapsed on the seat. He shut the door.
Rodney moved to set the flashlight on its side on the car hood, beam aimed slightly away from his body. He switched the gun to his left hand, aiming at Kaycee’s face. His right hand slid into his pants pocket. Out came the car keys. He held them toward her. She reached to take them —
Sudden light from down the driveway swathed the forest behind her. Kaycee registered the sound of a car engine.
Rodney’s head swiveled toward the light. Survival reflex flared through Kaycee. This was her chance. She rammed her outstretched hand against the long gun, knocked its aim away from her face. Her right foot rocketed into Rodney’s groin.
“Unkh.” He doubled over as car beams cut across their bodies. Kaycee squinted in the brightness. The keys clicked to the ground. Rodney staggered, teeth clenched, clutching his weapon with both hands.
Tires ground to a halt and a door smacked open. “Police! Drop it!” The raucous command wrenched through the air.
Rodney waved the gun toward the sound.
“Drop it now!”
Kaycee jumped away from Rodney. Wheezing a curse, he aimed at the light —
Three shots split the night. Kaycee screamed. Hannah’s muffled cries rose from the car.
Holes torched in Rodney’s chest. He jerked in a death dance and thudded to the ground face down. His fingers still curved around the gun.
Running footsteps approached. Kaycee leapt toward Rodney. “Stay back!” the policeman yelled, but her body moved as if yanked by a ghostly arm. For surely, surely this evil being would twitch to life and kill them all . . .
With a grunt, she kicked the weapon away from Rodney’s fingers. It slid beneath the SUV.
The officer ran up, pushed Kaycee aside. His gun remained ready in his right hand. Bathed in light from the car beams, he knelt down and felt for a pulse in Rodney’s neck. Kaycee raised an arm to block the light from her eyes. In a stunning, mind-reversing second her blinking gaze registered two things: Hannah’s whitened face pressed against the car window — and the profile of a man risen from the dead.
FIFTY-FOUR
“Mark?” The name trembled from Kaycee’s tongue. She squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them, praying she wasn’t imagining the sight before her.
The policeman rose and slid his gun in its holster. For the first time Kaycee noticed the hard rise and fall of his shoulders. Lingering adrenaline and fear shafted across Mark’s face. He gazed at her as if shell-shocked. “He’s dead.”
Her brain scrambled for clarity. It wouldn’t come. “So are you.”
“I am?”
“Rodney said so.” Kayc
ee swallowed. “No, maybe he didn’t. But I thought . . .”
They surged toward each other. Mark pulled her close, so tightly she couldn’t breathe. A silent sob racked from her chest.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He smoothed her hair. “It’s over.”
Was it, after twenty-six years? Even now she half expected Rodney’s glaring eyes to pop open, his zombie arm to snatch up the gun . . .
Hannah cried loudly in the SUV. Mark let Kaycee go and stepped over to open the back door. Hannah spilled out into Kaycee’s arms. She pulled Hannah across the rutted driveway into the grass, away from Rodney’s body. There, beyond the glare of headlights from Mark’s police car, they clung to each other and cried.
Mark tucked his chin down and spoke into his radio. A response crackled back. Kaycee’s eyes followed his every move as he walked to the gaping door of his car and closed it. He approached Kaycee and Hannah. Gently, he laid a hand on the girl’s head.
“We’ve been looking all over for you, Hannah. Your daddy’s been so worried.”
“I wanna see him.” Her words muffled into Kaycee’s shirt.
“You will — real soon. An officer’s with your dad at your house. They’re on their way.”
Hannah trembled with chills. Kaycee rubbed her shoulders. Still Kaycee stared at Mark, hardly believing he stood before her. “She’s got a sweatshirt in the cabin. In the bedroom.”
“I’ll get it.” He turned away.
“And Mark. Somewhere in there is a stuffed brown bear.”
“Okay.”
She watched him step into the cabin of horrors and shuddered.
A moment later he returned. Hannah put on the sweatshirt and clutched Belinda to her neck. A memory surged in Kaycee’s mind of herself at four, clinging to that same bear. Sudden, violent longing for her mother washed through her.
Mark put his arms around them both in a three-way hug. “We’ve had officers out this direction for hours, looking for you two.” His voice sounded gruff. “We saw you on film from the camera at South Lexington, Kaycee. Got the license plate of the SUV.”
Her throat tightened. “He made me lie down in the backseat. I sat up on purpose.”
“Smart thinking. We ran the plate. Owner’s name is Rodney List.”
“That’s him.” Kaycee’s eyes roved toward Rodney’s still form. “But his real name’s Joel Nicorelli. They called him Nico.”
Mark made a sound in his throat. “He killed Officer Nelson.”
Kaycee’s chin dropped. She closed her eyes. An officer dead because of her. “How did you know I was gone?”
“Mrs. Foley was watching from her bedroom window upstairs and saw two figures at the opposite corner of your property. Couldn’t tell who it was. I’d never have seen them. Officer Nelson was supposed to cover that side. I checked your house. The side door was unlocked. I couldn’t believe it.” Mark’s arm tightened around Kaycee’s back. “I’d already called the chief. He found Nelson in the barn.” For a moment Mark was silent. “It’s an answer to prayer we found you. For all we knew you could have been taken to High Bridge or beyond. We knocked on doors out on the highway for hours, but nobody had seen anything. Finally some guy down Shanty Hill said he’d seen a big car turning up toward this abandoned place — ”
A car engine revved in the distance. Red lights strobed the forest, the cabin. A police vehicle surged to a stop behind Mark’s car, and Chief Davis jumped out. Hannah broke away from Kaycee, face lit with anticipation, and started toward the car. A second later she slid to a halt. “Where’s my dad?” she wailed.
Chief Davis ran to her and grabbed her shoulders. “Any minute, honey,” he said. “Any minute.”
More blood-red flashed through the night. In quick succession two police cars bumped up the driveway. Ryan Parksley leapt from one before it stopped. “Hannah!”
“Daddyyy!”
They ran to meet each other, arms outstretched. Kaycee watched through blurred eyes, her heart tied in a knot.
Chief Davis strode toward her. “You all right?”
She nodded.
He gave Mark a grim smile. “Good work.” He veered toward Nico’s body, where other officers were already gathering.
Mark turned to join them, then stopped. He looked back to Kaycee. Laid a hand against her cheek.
“This is over now. You’re going to be fine — stronger than before. You’ll see.”
Memories stabbed through Kaycee. Her father, dead and bloodied on a dark yellow floor. Belinda, fallen from her arms onto concrete. Her mother’s nervous glances in a rearview mirror. I tried to give you a better life . . .
Kaycee’s throat convulsed. If she fought her way back to strength it wouldn’t be of her own power.
“Yeah. I will.”
One side of Mark’s mouth crooked upward. “And don’t forget — you promised me a date.”
Kaycee held his gaze until she managed a weary smile. “It’s not going to be on a Kings Island rollercoaster, Mark Burnett.”
PART 4
Feed your faith and your fears will starve to death.
Unknown
FIFTY-FIVE
Kaycee stepped from the white stone police station building, a cold Ale – 8-One in her hand, and gazed up East Main. May in Wilmore. On both sides of the street, cherry trees blazed pink. Another few weeks and the town would hang the large multicolored baskets of flowers from hooks on every lamppost. These would stretch from the railroad tracks up East Main, then to the right on North Lexington, all the way to the outskirts of town.
She tipped the Ale – 8-One to her mouth and drank.
Today was her monthaversary — Mark’s word. One month ago today she’d looked them in the face.
“One man,” Mark had reminded her last night over supper in Lexington. It was their ninth date — but who was counting? “He was just a man.”
Kaycee prickled. “Easy for you to say.”
“Hey, I’m not saying he wasn’t dangerous.” Mark held up both palms — peace, peace. “Downright evil. I’m glad I killed him.”
She thought of Officer Nelson’s wife and two children at his funeral. Hannah’s nightmares. Her own father’s dead face, her mother’s life on the run. “Yeah. Me too.”
Chief Davis had alerted the FBI regarding Rodney’s claim of an Atlantic City bank robbery twenty-six years ago. Over the past four weeks of investigation the story had unfolded. A record heist at the time, unsolved until now, and the inexplicable circumstances of Martin Giordano and his wife and daughter. The families of La Cosa Nostra in Atlantic City had long since lost their power, but in the early 1980s the organization was alive and well. Rodney List — Joel “Nico” Nicorelli — had been a part of the Lucchese family. Like Mark said — just one man. With his own failures and fears.
Mark slid his hand across the table and placed it over Kaycee’s. “You make peace with Mrs. Foley?”
“I’m not screaming at her anymore if that’s what you mean.”
“At least she knows you’re not crazy. You’re vindicated.”
“Like she’d ever admit it.”
Mark’s lips curved. “How’s Hannah?”
“Haven’t talked to her for days now. Her dad’s still mad at me. Can’t blame him.”
“You brought her back. Safe.”
“I’m the reason she was taken in the first place.”
Mark shook his head.
“I’m just giving them time.” Kaycee lifted a shoulder. “That family has so much healing of their own to do. Hannah needs to be talking to her father and stepmom right now, not me. And she’s getting better. They all are.”
So was Kaycee. She looked over her shoulder less these days. In time she would regain the strength she’d had before Mandy’s death. And one day she would conquer her paranoia completely.
Mark squeezed her fingers. They were silent for a moment.
“You write that column?” he asked.
“You know I did, Mr. Self-Satisfied.”
“Yeah, well. Don’t let it go to your head.”
Now standing on Main, Kaycee smiled at the memory. She took another drink of Ale – 8-One and started up the sidewalk. Behind her, the glass door swished. “Kaycee.”
She turned around. “Hey, Chief.”
“Where you headed?”
“To Tastebuds for a pizza and soda. Wanna come?”
“Can’t, I’m going out to do DARE in a minute.”
The DARE car — the spiffy 1968 Ford Galaxy 500. “You promised me a ride last week.”
“That’s why I came out. Here’s your chance.”
“Cool. I’ll wait here; you bring it around.”
He glanced toward the building. “It’s just down in the basement.”
Okay. Hidden agenda. He’d obviously been talking to self-appointed therapist Mark. Kaycee gave him a look. “What happened to your velvet touch?”
One side of his mouth turned up. “You coming or not?”
It was a chance to face down a fear. The basement would be lit. Chief would be with her.
It would be terrifying.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m coming.”
She followed him back inside the building and through the station. Out the rear door and to the rickety-looking wooden steps to the basement. Oh, boy. Kaycee hung tight to the banister on the way down.
The fear gripped her before she hit the last stair. Kaycee’ s knuckles whitened around the Ale-8-One bottle. Her mouth creaked open. Breathe.
Shoulders drawn in, she stepped onto the concrete floor. She glanced around, eyes grazing the wood and stone walls, the door to the storage area. The shiny DARE car sat in the center, backed in and facing the basement’s wide double doors.
The wooden posts and low-beamed ceiling closed in. Kaycee’s stomach flipped. Her right hand jerked to the base of her neck.
“You okay?” Chief asked.
She nodded stiffly, eyes bugged.
“We’ll be out real soon.” He hurried over to push the doors wide open. Sunlight streamed in. “Okay, in the car.”
Exposure Page 21
