by T. R. Ragan
“When Shannon died,” he said, “when her face turned reddish blue, the only face I saw was Trish’s.” He sighed. “No, that’s not entirely true. I also saw Julia’s face and Lisa’s and Karen’s.”
“Girlfriends?”
“My sister and her friends,” he said without any emotion.
“Why did you hate them so much?”
“Let’s just say they deserved to die. They needed to die.”
“You killed them all?”
“Not all of them. And not my sister. She was too far away, so I had to send her news clippings and such to let her know her friends were all dying, dropping like flies around me.”
“Nobody deserves to die.”
“Trust me, Lizzy. Each and every one of those girls deserved what they got.” It was quiet for a moment before he shook his head as if he were trying to get rid of images running through his mind. “You just don’t do those things to a ten-year-old boy.”
“What did they do to you, Sam?”
“I’m done talking about it.”
“What was it about their eyes that made you do the things you did?”
“Let’s just say I didn’t appreciate the way they looked at me. I deserve respect. In fact, I demand it.”
Within minutes, he exited the freeway.
She recognized the neighborhood. They weren’t too far from the Walker house, the house she’d thought was the house of horrors. “It helps to talk about things.”
He smiled as he hit the remote at his side, as if he knew she was trying to keep him off guard by striking up a conversation. They hadn’t driven far, but they were already pulling into a garage. She reached for the door handle, jiggling it before she realized he’d locked it from the inside. The garage door closed behind them. He turned off the engine and as she thought about what her next step would be, he plunged a needle into her arm.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010 4:16 AM
Immediately after Cathy Warner called Jared to tell him Lizzy was missing, he left the crime scene in Auburn. Samuel Jones was their man and yet it appeared the man did not exist. His driver’s license information had been logged into every possible data base, but his name came up clean. Karen Crowley insisted her brother was in the medical field, and yet state records showed no license information for Samuel Jones, which meant he had a second identity.
Karen Crowley had no idea where her brother might be. Guilt and shame had brought her back to the States to make amends. Decades ago, she had been entrusted by her parents to take care of her younger brother Sam. Something horrible happened while their parents were gone, but Karen wasn’t willing to say anything more than that. She wanted a lawyer before she would agree to say another word.
Cynthia, Sam Jones’ wife, the only other person who might have been able to shed some light on what Sam had been up to over the past fourteen years, had been murdered and left to rot in the attic. The neighbors had known her as Cindi, but no one had ever said more than two words to Samuel Jones. Apparently, Cindi and Sam kept to themselves.
As Jared pulled out of the driveway and clicked on his earpiece, his phone rang.
“It’s me again...Jessica.”
Jared focused on the road, eager to get to Lizzy’s apartment where he hoped to find her. Unable to sleep, she must have gone to her office or to her apartment to do some investigating of her own.
“Sorry to bother you again,” Jessica said, “but the more I thought about it the more I realized I should at least tell you why I was trying to find Lizzy in the first place.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“Before I called you earlier, I had received a call from Sophie Madison’s mom. I was going to wait until morning to tell Lizzy, but I won’t be able to sleep until I tell someone what Mrs. Madison said.”
“Mrs. Madison called you that early in the morning?”
“She doesn’t sleep much these days.”
Understandable, he thought.
“I told her to call anytime she needed to talk. She likes me to keep her posted on what’s going on with the case, so that’s what I try to do.”
“Tell me what’s on your mind, Jessica.”
“Remember when you mentioned the other day that Sophie Madison wasn’t wearing braces when they found her body?”
“I remember.”
“Well, as I was talking to Sophie’s mother I happened to comment on how many of the missing girls had braces. She went on to tell me that Sophie had just gotten her braces put on two weeks before she was abducted. I didn’t tell Mrs. Madison what you said about Sophie not having braces because I didn’t want to upset her, but I thought you should know.”
His jaw tightened. “Did you ask her who Sophie’s doctor was?”
“I didn’t have to. She just told me.”
“Who is it, Jessica?”
“I thought I told you already. Sophie’s orthodontist was Dr. McMullen, the same orthodontist Brittany Warner uses.”
Tuesday, February 23, 2010 4:21 AM
The door creaked as it opened, prompting Hayley to shake her head at Brittany, letting her know now was a good time to pretend she was asleep.
Brittany clamped her eyes shut and bent her head low until her chin rested on her chest.
Spiderman peeked inside, his gaze settling on Brittany. After he stepped into the room, Hayley realized she was holding her breath. She prayed Brittany wouldn’t twitch or give herself away. The iron manacle around Brittany’s left wrist was still chained to the wall, but the hook was coming loose. They just needed a little more time.
He turned his gaze to Hayley. “You’re still alive,” he said.
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
“You know what they say. The more you laugh, the longer you live.”
His gaze went to the knife on the table next to the bed. He’d left it there to irritate her, knowing she wouldn’t be able to think about anything other than getting to the knife and slitting his throat.
“When our new little friend wakes up,” he told her, “I’m going to teach her what happens to fools. After watching me carve you up like a Thanksgiving turkey she’ll be the best behaved girl in town.”
“Don’t forget the cranberry sauce.”
“You’re a wild one, aren’t you?”
“And you’re an asshole.”
The corners of his mouth turned downward right before he marched across the room, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. Although he had a limp to his gait, and he was paler than before, he still had a lot of life to him. Shit. She’d gone overboard. He picked up the knife he’d taken from her the other day and clicked the button. The blade shot up, its sharp metal edge making her wish she’d kept her mouth shut for once. He usually laughed at her smartass comments, but tonight he seemed different—on edge, angry, and restless.
Usually his every move was cautious and purposeful, but not tonight. Instead of taking his anger out on her as she thought he would, he went to stand by Brittany.
“What are you doing?” she asked, hoping to calm him.
He put the sharp blade against Brittany’s cheek, the tip of the blade sinking into her skin.
Hayley prayed Brittany would stay silent, but Brittany cried out. How could she not? Blood oozed from the wound.
“Thought you could fool me, didn’t you?” He pointed at Hayley as he spoke. “Don’t listen to a word that girl tells you. Not if you want to live.”
Hayley watched Brittany’s lip quiver. She wanted to tell Brittany to stay calm and take a deep breath, maybe count to ten, but she held her tongue. She’d already told the girl to show no fear. He fed on fear.
He grabbed a fistful of Brittany’s hair and cut it off. She was trying so hard to be brave that Hayley had to bite down on her tongue to keep from begging him to stop. If she begged, things would only go from bad to worse.
He put the knife to Brittany’s throat. “What do you think, Hayley? Do you want to watch he
r die today or would you rather lose another finger?”
“I think you should go fuck yourself.”
He moved the blade slowly across Brittany’s throat and down to her chest. He wasn’t cutting her. He just wanted to scare them both. Tears rolled down Brittany’s face.
“Look at her porcelain skin, Hayley.” He continued to move the blade of the knife over her nose and across Brittany’s chin, excitement showing in his eyes whenever she gasped or whimpered. “She’s had a good life,” he said. “She doesn’t know what it’s like to go to bed hungry. I bet she’s never been fucked by her mother’s boyfriend. Doesn’t that bother you, Hayley?”
Hayley kept silent, gritting her teeth.
The tip of the knife trailed over Brittany’s cheek. “Your mother wanted me. God, she wanted me bad, didn’t she? You saw the look in her eyes when she brought you to my office.”
Brittany spit, spraying saliva into his face and eyes.
He turned away to wipe his face with his sleeve.
Hayley laughed, not because she thought it was amusing but because she wanted to draw him away from the girl.
His face crimped into a maze of fury. “Shut up!”
Hayley didn’t stop. She laughed louder and harder until finally he left Brittany and came to Hayley’s side. He picked up her left hand and put the knife to her middle finger. “I think this finger should be the next to go, don’t you?”
Brittany screamed.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010 4:26 AM
The minutes dragged by as he raced across town. Jared issued an APB on Dr. Samuel McMullen. Unfortunately the only address connected to Dr. McMullen was the house in Auburn where Cindi had been left to die. The man was an orthodontist. Lizzy had talked about hearing drilling noises and although many of his victims had worn braces, none of the victims were wearing braces when their bodies were found. Had the killer used drills to remove evidence pointing to Dr. McMullen?
Jared parked outside Lizzy’s place, climbed out of his car and ran up the stairs. The apartment was empty and dark. Every muscle tensed at the thought of Lizzy being with Spiderman. Jared walked through her living area and into the kitchen, looking for clues, a note, anything. He walked into her bedroom and picked up the scraggly one-eyed stuffed animal lying on the middle of her bed. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing Lizzy. Not again. Not ever.
His phone rang. No surprise there. It was his mother. She must have seen the news. Or maybe she was finally returning one of his half dozen calls from earlier. That was his mother in a nutshell. He couldn’t remember a time when she’d been there when he’d needed her. Not once. But that didn’t matter any longer. Nothing mattered except finding Lizzy.
It was nearly five in the morning by the time he arrived at Cathy and Richard Warner’s house, which was buzzing with activity now that Lizzy had disappeared right under their noses. Richard sat on a couch, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. Cathy had been the one to greet Jared at the door before she dragged him to her daughter’s room where Lizzy had slept last night. She showed Jared a note Lizzy had left on the bed, half hidden beneath the pillow.
He said he would release Brittany if I went with him. I refuse to let him have Brittany.
Spiderman had called Lizzy and made her a deal, Jared realized. Lizzy for Brittany. Of course Lizzy would have agreed to the exchange. The way her mind worked, she had no other choice. But neither Lizzy nor Brittany had returned home, which meant Lizzy had been betrayed. Had she expected Spiderman to keep his word?
Unable to stand there with nothing to do but gaze at the pleading look in Cathy’s eyes, Jared told her he would do all he could to find them. Then he left the house.
He was on the freeway, driving fast, before he realized where he was going. He thought about using his LED dash light once his speedometer hit eighty, but then decided against calling any unwanted attention to himself. In less than six minutes, he exited the freeway and drove over the Sacramento River. He had to follow his instincts. It was all he had left. Spiderman’s sister had no idea where they might be able to find her brother. What had she and her friends done to a little boy all those years ago?
He stopped the car in front of the Walker’s house where the excavation had taken place last week. It was still early and it was cold. Not even the crickets were out tonight.
He left his car and stopped in front of the Walker house to take a look around. He stood at the same curb where he and Lizzy had waited for backup. Lizzy had told him on more than one occasion that she was sure Spiderman had been watching her that day. Jared peered across the street where the elderly woman had watched them from her kitchen window.
The neighborhood was like any other neighborhood: row after row of single-family homes. Most of them built in the seventies or eighties. Many with families and young children. Houses in varying degrees of preservation.
His gaze wandered from house to house. Lizzy had said that after she escaped, she looked to her right in order to try and see the house from which she’d escaped, but she’d been blinded by the rising sun.
Jared stepped into the middle of the street, turning about so that his right side faced the east. If she had looked to her right to see the house she’d just escaped, and the rising sun had blinded her, then that would mean the Walker house was on the wrong side of the street.
It was dark out. Jared began walking down the middle of the street. A dog barked in the distance. The moonlight threw shadows across his path. There were more than a dozen houses on the other side of the street, six or seven of which had a decent view of the Walker house. If Lizzy was right about being watched that day, then he was close. Tonight though, close might not be good enough. Spiderman might have seen the news that they had found his dead wife. An APB had been issued in the names of Samuel Jones and Dr. McMullen. He was running out of time. They all were. His phone vibrated, and he opened his cell without looking at the caller ID.
“Jared, I need to talk to you.”
He kept walking. “Mom, not now.”
“Jared, don’t hang up.”
He readied his gun.
He couldn’t hear past her sobbing. He gritted his teeth, ready to toss the phone in the bushes. “What do you want to tell me? The world doesn’t revolve around you and your problems.” Guilt might very well creep up to bite him in the ass later, Jared knew, but right now, he didn’t give a damn. He’d had enough of his parent’s antics. Grow up. Get a life. He kept his gaze on the house in front of him, hoping this would be the right house. He had to take a chance. One house at a time. He had no other choice. He was about to hang up when his mother said, “I think I know where you can find Dr. McMullen.”
“Why? How?” She made no sense.
“He’s the man I told your father about, the man I’ve been seeing. Recently, he stopped returning my calls. So I waited for him to leave his office the other day and I followed him.”
Chapter 37
Tuesday, February 23, 2010 4:32 AM
Lizzy opened her eyes.
Darkness. Pitch black. She couldn’t see a thing. He’d done his homework. If there were any windows, they had been covered well. She could feel her throat closing, making it hard to breathe. Don’t panic, Lizzy. If she wanted to help Brittany and Hayley, then she needed to stay calm.
Death.
The room smelled like death. Her arms were tied behind her back just like old times. That son-of-a-bitch. She fought with the ropes, pissed off, but then it dawned on her. He thought he knew her so well and yet he still didn’t know she could dislocate her shoulder the way other people could crack their knuckles. If he’d known, he would not have tied her the way he did. She never told the feds or anyone else about her ability to pop her shoulder in and out of its socket because it had happened the first time she’d escaped. And nobody cared about the first time. If she could dislocate her shoulder, she could catch him off guard.
She listened for a moment. Her head hurt. Intense pain rippled through her skull. W
hatever Spiderman had pumped through her veins had put her out in a matter of seconds. Although her eyes were adjusting to the darkness, her vision was hazy at best. She looked around the room. White walls and beige carpet, stacks of cardboard boxes.
Had nothing changed?
Spiders and centipedes climbed on top of one another, trying to escape from their glass cage. One blink of her eyes and the bugs disappeared.
Knives and needles, drilling sounds and endless torture threatened to break her focus. What had he given her?
Swallowing, she shut her eyes and concentrated on getting untangled from the ropes. Dislocating her shoulder would take focus. Could she still manage it? The door opened before she could answer the question.
He stood there...watching her.
So many things she wanted to shout at him: he was going to hell; he was evil; he’d never get away with this. Instead, she said nothing. He entered the room. Without a word said, he grabbed her and pulled her to her feet. Since her feet were tied at the ankles, she hobbled alongside him as he dragged her through the house. He stopped at the room at the end of the hallway, the room where she’d found Mary so long ago.
He opened the door.
Lizzy bit her tongue to stop from crying out. Brittany was fastened to manacles chained to the wall, while Hayley was tied to hooks on the ground. Poor Hayley—bloodied and naked, the pinky finger on one hand sliced clean off. “Hayley,” she said, wondering if she was still alive.
He forced her to sit in a wooden chair set up just for her. A true gentleman. She knew the drill. Brittany’s face was bruised, her lip and the right side of her face cut and bleeding.
The man was going to die. “Let them go,” Lizzy said, her voice flat, “and I’ll do whatever you want.”
Spiderman stood between Hayley and Brittany. He shook his head, smiling. No mask. No robotic voice. “Lizzy, Lizzy. How many times have I heard that before?”
