Lost Girls: A gripping thriller that will have you hooked (Ben Forrester FBI Thrillers Book 1)

by Jon Mills

  “Fight, Chloe,” he muttered.

  Chapter 31

  Curled up in a ball on the bed, fading in and out of consciousness, she could hear another voice. A different one this time. Two men were arguing. She couldn’t make out what it was they were saying but one of them was impatient. She groaned as she sat up. The first thing she noticed was her hands and feet weren’t bound this time.

  Then like an out of focus picture the room snapped back into view. At the same time she began to comprehend what they were saying.

  “You unbolted that door. You are the one responsible for the other girl getting out.”

  “It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

  She couldn’t tell if it was one person changing their voice or two people.

  “I know it won’t happen again because if it does, it will be your body that they find next. Do I make myself clear, you imbecile?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Now get back to work.”

  There was silence and then the sounds of footsteps outside. A few bolts being unlocked across the way. A plate dropped on the floor. She went through the cycle of what she had heard since being taken. If she wasn’t drugged up she would get two, maybe three visits a day. The person always wore a mask but she was sure that there were two of them. One of them appeared shorter than the other.

  She listened carefully as the man did his rounds. She heard another voice, this time a woman’s. She was petrified. Possibly new? Chloe hadn’t seen them but she was certain there were at least three other women in the rooms. One of them had screamed and fought when he went into her cell. Her cries were soon quieted. Now all she heard were sobs. He broke them down. How? She wasn’t sure. Maybe he took away their food or raped them. She wasn’t sure if she had been raped. She had felt hands on her but nothing more. What were they waiting for?

  A metal bolt clunked, and the door opened up. With a face covered up by the mask, the man entered holding a plate with a sandwich on it and a glass of water. The mask had scared her at first. It was distorted and twisted under the influence of the drugs but now without feeling heavy she could see clearly.

  The man turned without saying a word.

  “Please. Stay,” Chloe said.

  He cast a glance over his shoulder.

  “You’re not him, are you?” she said. On the outside he looked the same. He was a similar build but a different height. “You unbolted the door, didn’t you?”

  He never replied, just stared at her. She could tell he was looking at her body, which was partially covered with a sheet.

  “It’s okay, you can come closer.”

  He shuffled across the room until he was near to her.

  “Do you have to wear that mask?”

  He nodded slowly. There was something very odd about him but at the same time she could sense that he was different to the one that had caught her trying to escape. The other man was brutal and showed no mercy. But this one. Maybe she could reach him.

  “Please. Can you help me get out of here?”

  He shook his head and then went to leave.

  “I’m sorry. Don’t go,” she said.

  The man paused at the door, his hand on the lock, before deciding to return.

  “What’s your name?” she asked, taking a bite of her food. It was just ham, but she hadn’t eaten in a while and her stomach was grumbling and aching to be fed. Of course he wouldn’t tell her his name. She noticed he was looking at her breasts. His head swept back and forth over her. His eyes, round and dark brown, seemed to penetrate her from beyond the mask.

  “Do you like them?” she said, placing the plate down and pulling back the covers to expose herself even more. She could see his chest rising and falling a little faster and heard him swallow hard.

  “You can touch them if you want.”

  He shifted back in his seat and shot a glance at the door nervously.

  “Go on.”

  She reached for his hand but he pulled it back fast then ran it around the back of his neck. He shook his head and stood up and began walking around the room as though trying to determine what he should be doing.

  “It’s okay,” she said, uncovering herself some more until he got a good look at her naked body. She reached out again for his left hand as he passed by and this time he didn’t pull away. She placed it on her left breast. His hand was cold. Her nipple hardened beneath it.

  “See, it’s okay.”

  His other hand came forward, and he touched the other breast and began pawing them greedily. She could tell it was turning him on and that was exactly what she wanted.

  “Do you want me?” she asked.

  He nodded, rocking back and forth like a psychotic patient who was off his medication.

  She tugged at his arm until he was on top straddling her. He reached down his head and began nuzzling his face between her breasts. It repulsed her but she allowed it. She could feel his tongue slipping out of the opening on the mask. While he feasted on her, she slipped one hand over to the side and took a firm hold of the glass. He was sucking away at her when she brought the glass down hard on the back of his head with as much force as she could. It smashed and a shard cut into her hand. One swift knee to the groin and she pushed him off her and slid out. Crouched on the floor, she snatched up a piece of the glass, expecting him to put up a fight. The edge was jagged and pointed at one end. She didn’t think about clothes. All that pushed through her mind was to get out of there.

  Go, go now, move it.

  Moving like a mountain lion she sprang forward but before she left the room, she glanced back at the now unconscious figure. Who was it? Did he have a key on him?

  There was no point in running if she couldn’t get out. She moved over to him and started feeling around in his pockets. There was nothing there except a wallet. She pulled it out and glanced at the ID. Douglas Adams, Park Ranger.

  A park ranger! What the hell? She dropped it, whimpering and backing up to escape. She dashed out of the room and turned left towards where she’d heard the men’s voices coming from. She moved fast across the granite floor and dashed down the tunnel. There had to be a way out, she was sure of it. Perhaps there wasn’t a key to get out. She kept moving until she saw a wooden ladder in the distance at the far end of the tunnel. Above it a speck of light illuminated the foot of the ladder.

  In a frenzied haste she bolted past the room that had the masks and bodies hung up. She didn’t stop to see if there was anyone in there.

  As soon as she placed a foot on the rung of the ladder she began climbing two at a time. Scrambling up towards the light above, all she wanted was to escape. She was so close to her freedom that she could feel hope inside her increasing with every step she took. Her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest as she got closer to the top.

  The moment her head came out she felt a hand grip her by the throat. Out the corner of her eye she saw him. As she gasped and struggled, he lifted her out of the hole by his bare hands. Now in the grasp of her captor, she flailed around as he began strangling her in midair. Her feet dangled a few inches off the floor as he slammed her up against the wall. His grotesque mask came close. She felt his hot breath on her face.

  “I thought you were different.” Her eyes took in what she was seeing. She was inside a cabin. Animal heads everywhere. She still had the shard of glass in her hand but with him choking her she was about to lose consciousness any minute now.

  Chloe thought fast, she jammed the shard of glass into his outstretched arm. He shrieked with pain and dropped her. Coughing and spluttering, she began crawling on her hands and knees away from him like an injured animal.

  She didn’t even look behind her to see him pulling the glass from his arm.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  She screamed as he came up behind her and grabbed hold of her by the hair and yanked her upright. He clamped one arm around her throat and slammed her down onto the floor. Now with all his weight h
e pressed down on her chest with his knee and began choking her with both hands. Oh god, he was going to kill her now. This wasn’t the way it was meant to end. Chloe began to see stars; everything was beginning to turn black.

  Desperation overtook her as she drove a knee into his side but it did nothing. It only angered him more and made him squeeze harder.

  Gasping for air, she stared into the eye sockets of his mask. Pure evil stared back.

  “Die, bitch!”

  She raked at his jacket with her fingers and then clawed at his mask but it was no use, he was too heavy and much stronger than her. Suddenly, she felt air flood her lungs as the man collapsed on top of her. Wheezing and trying to suck in as much air as she could, she felt his body slide away from her. Standing above was Douglas Adams holding a shovel.

  He stared absently at the unconscious man’s body. Chloe pulled herself up to a kneeling position. Sucking in more air she looked over at the man who still had his mask on.

  “Thank you,” she said before turning away, only to feel the full force of a shovel hit the side of her skull.

  Chapter 32

  Ben had divided the majority of the day between talking with the medical examiner’s office and trying to figure out why he had killed again. The toxicology report came back the same as the Taylor girl. There was something that wasn’t adding up about it. It was a mixture of organization and disorganization. It was uncommon for serial killers. They were usually one or the other. Either he was trying to confuse them or there were two people involved. He’d been sitting at a desk down at the local police station for the past hour, drinking a horrendous amount of bad coffee and working through the reports, when Dakota pulled up a chair.

  “Good news, I think we’ve got a lead,” Dakota said.

  “How so?”

  “The boys did a check on taxidermists in the area who still use formaldehyde and glycerin as a means of preserving. Seems that most use a product called Masters Blend. Only a few use the old method of formaldehyde and glycerin.”

  She paused to glance down at a piece of paper in her hand.

  “One to be exact — Eden-Ridge Taxidermy on the west side.”

  “Well, let’s go.”

  Ben grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and they rushed over to Eden-Ridge Taxidermy, turning west on Route 233 then south on Route 102 into Tremont. The road wound its way through the park’s tall green pines. Along the way they passed several seafood restaurants and gift stores that led up to Southwest Harbor.

  “Don’t you think they would just order it themselves online?”

  “Not unless they want to leave a trail. They are probably paying for it in cash, if they’re smart.”

  They had finally located the store. An obscure wooden sign outside had a few of the letters missing. From the moment they stepped inside, the creepiness level went up a few notches with mounted animal heads, deer skulls, and fur skins covering every inch of space. The place wasn’t much more than a wooden shack on the outskirts of town. It smelled like roadkill, and salt with a chemical odor.

  Two men were huddled around a large desk, rubbing salt into the flesh side of a hide. Both of them looked like they had just stepped out of the wilderness. One of them had a thick black beard and was wearing a plaid shirt. The other was skinny, he had a sunken face and was twitching from the moment he saw them enter.

  “Can I help you?”

  Ben didn’t waste any time getting to it. “You guys use formaldehyde and glycerin to preserve?”

  “Yeah.”

  He asked them where they were on the night Chloe went missing and when the bodies of Rachael Taylor and other girl were found.

  “At the Thirsty Whale Tavern all evening then down at Earl Ashton’s boat.”

  “Earl?”

  Dakota made a note to follow up on that.

  “Do you sell product to anyone interested in doing taxidermy themselves?”

  “Nope.”

  Ben caught something in the way they looked at each other.

  “Has anyone been in requesting if you can get them a large amount of formaldehyde and glycerin?”

  They looked at each other again. The one with the beard shrugged. “Not around here.”

  “Well, thanks for your time,” Ben turned and walked out. As they made it back to the car, Dakota kept giving him a strange look as she pulled out her phone to place a call to the Thirsty Whale Tavern.

  “Hey, I’ll be back in a second,” he said.

  She slipped into the car, speaking to the owner on the phone. Ben tossed his jacket in the vehicle and went back into the taxidermist’s store. Five minutes later he came out shaking a receipt in his hand and had a name on his lips. He slipped into the car and she turned over the ignition with a frown on her face.

  “How did? —”

  “You don’t want to know,” he replied, rubbing his swollen knuckles.

  “Ben.”

  “Just drive. I think we’ve got that warrant.”

  Chapter 33

  Chloe awoke to a cold, rough feeling on the side of her face. She was lying on a wooden floor. Her head was pounding and hurt like crazy. She cried out from shock and feeling disoriented like a child waking up from surgery. A shuffle of feet behind caused her to twist.

  He was sitting at a desk with his back turned. “Don’t try anything stupid, I’m not going to hurt you.” He swiveled in his chair and had a magnifying glass headset on, making one of his eyes appear bigger than the other. On the desk in front of him was a stuffed raccoon; he was in the process of pushing a black almond eye into the eye socket.

  She rubbed the side of her head, wincing in pain.

  “Sorry about that,” he stuttered. “But I couldn’t have you see where you were going.”

  “Where am I?”

  “My home.”

  She took in her surroundings. A few small windows let in the remaining afternoon light. Thick metal foundational pillars held up the floor above. She gazed up and saw planks of wood. She was in a basement. He observed her as she looked around.

  “Oh, I took it upon myself to redress you.”

  That’s when she noticed she was wearing jeans and a shirt. They didn’t belong to her. That bothered her even more. As she moved, she felt metal teeth cut into her leg. He’d handcuffed her to a post by her ankle. She tugged on it.

  “What the hell?”

  “That’s for my security.”

  Chloe looked at him with skeptical eyes before he rubbed the back of his head.

  “That was quite a knock you gave me,” he muttered.

  “Where is he?”

  His eyes dropped. “Yeah, him.” Something about the mention of his vicious partner in crime seemed to make him crawl back into the shell of who he was when the other one was around. He swiveled on the chair and went back to working on the raccoon.

  “Are you going to let me go?”

  “I haven’t quite decided yet.”

  “I won’t tell anyone,” she said softly.

  He snorted with his back turned. “I somehow doubt that.”

  Chloe scanned the ground for anything she could use as a weapon: a broken chunk of concrete was within a few feet but she was certain it was out of reach. Tools were hung up on the wall — a wrench, screwdrivers, and a drill.

  “Why did you help me?”

  “What makes you think I helped you?”

  “He’s not here, is he?”

  He paused, holding a dark eye between his fingers.

  “No, but oh he’s going to be so pissed.”

  “Let me go please. I have a family.”

  He continued working away, oblivious to her pleading. She thought he would show sympathy because he had stopped the other from killing her.

  “How many women have you killed?”

  “I don’t kill them, he does. I just bring them in.”

  “But he brutalizes and murders them.”

  His head rocked up and down, acknowledging what she was saying
.

  “Not all of them. The special ones are transformed. You’re special, Chloe. I guess that’s why I didn’t let him kill you.”

  “Who is he?”

  He let out a stifled chuckle as if he was privy to some inside joke.

  “How do you like my collection?” His shift in topic was disturbing. “I’ve always been fond of the squirrels and raccoons. This one here and that one over there. They are so much easier to transform.”

  She let out a sigh and tugged at the silver handcuffs. “How long are you going to keep me here?”

  “Tell me, what would you like to eat tonight?”

  “What?”

  “Well, I’m guessing you’re hungry and thirsty. You eat, do you not?”

  “Let me out of here.”

  “In time.”

  “Now,” she demanded. “Let me out of here, you psycho fuck.”

  “Now that’s not polite, Chloe. No, we won’t be having any of that.”

  She spat at him. He tilted his head to one side and smirked. “Um, you really are beautiful when you’re angry. Here,” he twisted around and pulled a can of lemonade from a box and tossed it to her. “Drink.”

  “Drink it yourself,” she slammed it back at him.

  He laughed, watching the can roll on the ground near his feet. Taking in a deep breath, he turned and switched on the radio. Symphony music began to play, and he went back to work on the unfortunate creature.

  “Let me out,” she screamed a few times, but he just turned up the volume.

  Chapter 34

  A few hours later, after getting a search warrant from the county judge, the joint task force was gearing up to raid the house of Douglas Adams. The chief believed it to be a little excessive, but Ben didn’t. If they were right, they weren’t going to take any chances. Ben checked the ammo in his Glock before pushing it into his holster underneath his jacket.

  It was a fast drive over to Echo Lake on the west side of Mount Desert Island. Douglas’s cabin was nestled in the heart of the woods. Barely visible from the road, eight blue-and-white cruisers parked haphazardly in front of the small, dank-looking cabin. The clapboards were weathered and looked as if they had seen better days. The roof had been patched up and a steel chimney stuck out the side like a flexed arm. After they bailed out, the ten-man SWAT team immediately jumped into action. Officers set up a perimeter around the place.