Abducted

by T. R. Ragan

  The screen had been sliced open with a straight-edged razor. Lizzy looked at the note. She couldn’t put it off forever. That’s why she’d come, hadn’t she?

  I have missed you, Lizzy. You promised you would never leave me.

  Liar Liar Pants on Fire. Nobody’s safe and it’s your fault.

  I knew you would come. I know you better than you know yourself.

  A man’s face flashed through her mind, fast and startling, like lightning slicing through a dark sky. He peered through a mask that ended at the bridge of his long straight nose. Beneath a wide forehead, his eyes were lit with excitement. He had thin lips. His skin was smooth and unblemished. No facial hair, no wrinkles.

  Jimmy Martin said a curt goodbye. He snapped his phone shut and tucked his cell into the holder hooked to his waistband.

  Despite her best efforts to stay calm, Lizzy’s palms were damp and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The note proved the one thing she’d been dreading all along.

  He was alive.

  She sensed the killer’s presence as if he was in the room with her at this very moment. Spiderman had come back after all these years.

  Or had he been hanging around all along, watching her every move?

  Before a man named Frank Lyle was put behind bars, detectives had speculated that Spiderman had more than likely been incarcerated for another crime, or he had died. Serial killers didn’t just stop committing crimes and disappear. They either went to jail for another crime, died, or caused more pain and death.

  Jared made quick introductions.

  According to his badge, Jimmy Martin was Special Agent in Charge. Although Jimmy looked less than pleased to meet her, he shook her hand and said, “Thanks for coming.”

  “No problem.” She handed him the plastic bag with the note. “I don’t know how I can be of any help.”

  “If this is the same man who kidnapped you,” Jimmy said, “you were with him for quite some time. Did you ever see his handwriting?”

  “I thought Spiderman was already behind bars,” she said, testing him, since she had stated publically more than once that Frank Lyle was definitely not Spiderman.

  “We’d like to think so. Until someone can prove otherwise, it’s all speculation.”

  She shook her head. “I never saw his handwriting. He kept me blindfolded and bound. He also wore a mask.”

  “It says in your case file that you did see him.”

  “Once. He was asleep on the couch.” When she’d almost escaped the first time. When she almost saved the little girl without a tongue. “I saw the side of his face. But if you read the file, then you know the rest.” She thought about telling Special Agent Martin about the face she just saw flash through her mind, but Agent Martin didn’t look like he trusted her, so she kept quiet.

  “In his note he says ‘it’s all your fault.’ Why?”

  “Because like the note says, he knows me.” She rubbed her arms, couldn’t get the chill to go away. “He knows me well enough to know I’ll feel responsible for anything he does.”

  “Why?” Jimmy’s dark eyes bore into hers. “Why would you feel responsible?”

  “Because I got away.”

  “Because he let you go?”

  Why was this man trying to make her feel as if she’d purposely helped the maniac in some way?

  Jared stepped forward, but she stopped him with a raised hand. “He didn’t let me go. I got away. I escaped.”

  “Why didn’t he kill you?” Agent Martin asked.

  “I don’t know. There have been days I wished he had.” A young girl named Sophie was out there somewhere and there was nothing Lizzy could do to help her. Her chest tightened. Breathe. Just breathe.

  Jimmy clasped the top of the bedpost behind her. She could feel the heat of his body as he tried to use intimidation to find out whatever it was he was after. “If it’s your man who took Sophie, he’s killed at least four young females, but he left your pretty little head intact...and you’re telling me that after living with the man for nearly two months you have no idea why?”

  “That’s enough,” Jared said as he took hold of her arm and pulled her out from under Agent Martin’s intense questioning. “Like she said, it’s all in the file. I didn’t ask her here so you could rip her to shreds.”

  Jimmy ignored him. “Are you aware that Frank Lyle, the man found guilty for Jennifer Campbell’s murder six months ago, has also confessed to killing all four of Spiderman’s victims?”

  Lizzy shrugged. “If the note you showed me tonight was from Spiderman, then Frank Lyle is lying. More than likely Frank Lyle has some pathological need for notoriety. I think Lyle is delusional. He’s read and heard enough about the case to commit the facts to memory.”

  “He passed the polygraph test.”

  “If he believes he committed the crimes then you know as well as I do that he could easily pass the polygraph test. I told authorities months ago they had the wrong man.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I was there when they interrogated Lyle, watching from behind a two-way mirror. Nothing about Lyle struck me as familiar. Spiderman had a strong jaw and a wide forehead. Lyle possessed neither of those features. Besides the physical aspects, Lyle acted aggressive and hostile. I also saw the reports. Therapists describe Lyle as having little or no self-control. Spiderman is the exact opposite. He has patience. He’s methodical and disciplined. Lyle is merely a wannabe. A guy who snapped after he lost his job and his wife left him.”

  “So, you’re convinced that Spiderman is back?”

  “I guess you could say that.” She lifted her chin. “He called me today.”

  Jared looked perplexed, obviously wondering why she hadn’t mentioned that when he’d called earlier.

  Jimmy’s scowl deepened. “What did he say?”

  “He said I was a liar and a thief. He also said that because of me others would pay.” Her gaze fell to Sophie Madison’s desk where lots of pictures were taped to the mirror hanging on the wall. A bright yellow sign read, You are a Star! Below the star was a picture...a picture of Sophie Madison. “I know that girl.”

  Jimmy followed her gaze. His brows slanted inward. “You know Sophie Madison?”

  “I’ve seen her in class.”

  “But you didn’t recall her name before now?”

  “I have dozens of students sign up every month. The class is free. I do recognize faces though.”

  “When did she take your class?” Jared asked.

  “A few weeks ago.” No wonder she’d recognized the woman in the front room. “Oh, my God.” Her heart plummeted. “He is back. And he’s pissed.” Liar, Liar, pants on fire.

  “Why?” Jimmy wanted to know. “What do you mean?”

  “He knows I lied to him. He feels betrayed.” Lizzy felt trapped. The room was stuffy, making it hard to breathe. She looked at Jared. “I have to go.”

  He ushered her from the room. “Come on, let’s get some coffee.”

  Chapter 6

  Monday, February 15, 2010 10:03 PM

  Jared pulled his Denali to the side of the road and parked in front of a quaint Victorian house. Lizzy parked behind him and stepped out onto the curb. “This doesn’t look like a coffee shop,” she told him when he joined her on the curbside.

  “Best coffee shop in the area.” They headed for the house. “I grind my own beans.”

  “Impressive,” she said, but her heart wasn’t in it. Too much had happened too fast, making her feel as if the ground would open up at any moment and swallow her whole. She was having a difficult time wrapping her mind around the possibility that Spiderman had taken Sophie because of her.

  Jared opened the front door and gestured for her to head inside. It was dark. Too dark. She stayed where she was.

  Without questioning her behavior, he stepped around her and made his way into the living room, turning on lights as he went. He laid his jacket over the arm of a well-cushioned chair. Then he disappeared into the
back of the house. When he returned he said, “It’s all clear.”

  She stepped inside.

  Jared took her coat and hung it in the entry closet. “You look good, Lizzy.”

  Impulsively, she touched flyaway hairs framing her face. Realizing it would take an army of beauticians to make her presentable, she dropped her hands to her sides. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

  His smile, Lizzy thought, didn’t hide the worry etched in his eyes. He wanted to do his job, and yet, he didn’t want to upset her. “So,” she said, feeling out of her element. “Why did you call me here tonight? You could have read me the note over the phone. It was short and sweet.”

  “We hoped you might recognize the handwriting. And, I needed to see you—make sure you were safe.”

  Jared still had the same thick, dark hair. At thirty-three he was lean and well-muscled. Other than a couple of fine lines around his eyes when he smiled, he’d hardly changed. She followed him to the kitchen and looked around as he gathered filters, beans, and coffee cups.

  “Do you think Spiderman is back?” she asked him.

  “It looks that way.”

  “I don’t think Jimmy Martin believed a word I said.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about Jimmy. He’s been dealing with criminals for too long. He’s way past being bitter. He’s downright acidic.”

  She smiled.

  “I’m sure Jimmy hoped to retire next year knowing Spiderman was behind bars,” he added.

  Lizzy decided to let it go. She hadn’t followed Jared to his house to complain about Jimmy Martin. In fact, she wasn’t sure why she followed him here at all. “For the record, you don’t have to worry about me,” she said. “I have more than one deadbolt on the front door of my apartment. I’ve spent a lot of money securing all my windows and doors. And, I carry a gun.”

  He scooped beans into a grinder and hit the ON button. Once he was finished, he said, “How’s your sister?”

  The aroma of crushed gourmet coffee beans drifted her way. “Cathy is doing well.” She gave Jared a long look. No signs of a beer belly or thinning hair. Some guys had all the luck. “She has a daughter, Brittany, whom I adore.”

  “How about your parents?”

  “Mom lives in Hawaii. I haven’t seen her in a while but I talk to her every few weeks. Dad and I don’t talk much.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  After the finely ground beans were poured into a filter, he filled the pot with water and pushed another button. A pewter frame on the counter caught her attention. The picture was of Jared and a small girl she guessed to be about six years of age. She picked up the frame. “Is this your daughter?”

  He shook his head. “Never married. No children. That’s Ciara Gelhaus. My first abduction case. Found within twenty-four hours.”

  “Where was she?”

  “Her neighbor’s apartment, a woman unable to have children of her own. Five minutes before she planned to skip town with Ciara, we moved in on a hunch and it paid off.”

  “She’s a doll.”

  “I keep the picture to remind me that there is such a thing as a happy ending.”

  Lizzy cocked her head. “Never married?”

  “Surprised?”

  “You always talked about having lots of kids someday.”

  “I was engaged once. It didn’t work out.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He reached a hand to her chin and tilted her head upward so she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Lizzy. I never should have let you walk home that night.”

  She took a step back.

  His hand dropped to his side.

  “Let’s not go there,” she said. “We could go back and forth with the ‘I’m sorry’s’ until we’re blue in the face, but it wouldn’t change things. It is what it is.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about,” he said.

  “That’s not true. I lied to my parents. When I returned from the house of horrors, I told you to leave me alone. I fell apart. I couldn’t see you. Not even after I began to see things a little more clearly. I thought about you all the time, but I never picked up the phone and called you. I’m sorry for all of that.” And she was. More than anything back then she’d wanted to call him...mostly when she was in her deepest darkest hour, because in the end, images of Jared are what helped pull her through the worst of her nightmare.

  Jared watched Lizzy walk back to the living room. He hadn’t expected to feel such a tumble of raw emotions. But the truth was, the moment he’d first seen her tonight, he’d felt guilty—guilty for not being there for her all these years. He was also surprised to see how much weight she’d lost since he saw her last. She looked thin, almost gaunt. Her green eyes still mesmerized, and yet there was no sparkle there. After she pushed him away all those years ago, his anger had turned to hurt before slowly fading into oblivion. He wasn’t sure what he’d feel once he saw her again, but now he knew. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. He couldn’t count the number of times he had wanted to call her. But in the end, he always rationalized it was best if he kept his distance, worried that hanging around her would only stir up bad memories for Lizzy. Now that she was here though, he knew he’d been wrong.

  Already he felt a strong desire to protect her. And yet he needed her to do the one thing she might not be ready to do. He needed her to remember, needed her to return to the very thing she’d been running from for way too long. He needed to ask her to dive into the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind and dig up all the seemingly insignificant details she might have missed.

  He filled a mug with hot coffee. “Sugar and cream?”

  She headed back his way. “Black is fine.”

  With coffee in hand they made their way to the green vintage couch in the living room. She took a seat while he adjusted the thermostat. “It’ll be warm in no time.”

  He took a seat beside her, and she looked at him over the rim of her cup. “Sophie Madison needs me.”

  Jared looked into Lizzy’s eyes and realized he needed her, too. It had taken him years to move on. And then he met Peggy Chambers, a lawyer. He asked Peggy to marry him for all the wrong reasons. Every time she pushed him to set a wedding date, doubt clouded his mind. Peggy was a smart woman though. She knew he’d never stopped thinking about Lizzy. So did his parents and his sister...everybody knew he had unfinished business with Lizzy Gardner even before he figured it out for himself.

  “Yeah,” he finally said. “Sophie needs you. I need you, too. I need you to tell me everything you know about the man who abducted you. What was he like? Did he have any hobbies? Did he ever leave the house?”

  “I’ve told the FBI everything I know.”

  “But you’ve never told me.”

  She sipped her coffee, her gaze shifting away from his. A quiet moment settled between them before she said, “Spiderman had an enormous amount of patience.”

  Jared watched her sip her coffee, waiting for her to continue. After a few moments he wasn’t disappointed.

  “As you know,” Lizzy said, “he was fond of spiders. The tarantula was his favorite breed, but he liked to talk about what he considered to be the most dangerous spiders in the world. He liked to place spiders on his victim’s bodies. He would watch closely as the insects moved over smooth unblemished skin. Hours would pass before he would provoke the spiders, pinch them, anything to make them bite into flesh.”

  “Sophie had an older sister who was sleeping upstairs at the time of her abduction,” Jared told her. “Do you think Spiderman knew exactly which sister he was going after? Do you believe he followed his victim and scouted her out before he made his move?”

  “Yes, of course. If this is Spiderman’s work, he always knew who he was going after. By the time he kidnapped his victim, he knew them better than they knew themselves.” There was a long pause before she added, “Except for me. I was a mistake.”

  “What d
o you mean?”

  She gave him a wry smile. “You know—wrong place, wrong time, wrong bat channel.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do. He wasn’t after you that night, was he?”

  She met his gaze straight on, unblinking. Her eyes looked sharper now. “No. He wasn’t after me. You know that. He wanted the Anderson girl. He told me that and I told the feds.” She sighed and then asked, “Any chance Sophie Madison was a family-member abduction and they wrote the note to throw you off?”

  “There’s always a chance, but from what we’ve gathered so far, that’s not the case. Mrs. Madison can hardly stay focused and her husband was rushed to the hospital an hour before you arrived...heart problems. There are no uncles or aunts and all grandparents are accounted for.”

  “Mondays really do suck,” she said without much emotion.

  He didn’t respond.

  “Are you and your FBI friends conducting a neighborhood, door-to-door search?” she asked.

  Lizzy didn’t have a great deal of respect for the agency and Jared couldn’t blame her. For over a decade she’d been treated more like a criminal than a victim. “Should we be conducting a neighborhood search?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Isn’t that standard procedure?”