Tough as Nails (COBRA Securities Book 10)

by Velvet Vaughn

  “Hey, I wasn’t beat up. I was ambushed.” She flipped a hand in a “whatever” gesture. “And you didn’t let me finish. Josh wants us to complete the reno. If we want him to, he’ll play along. But he doesn’t want it after that.”

  Connie looked at Reed with hopeful eyes. “Do you think it’s possible to finish on time?”

  “It may be the bottom of the ninth with two out and two strikes, Connie, but the fat lady isn’t singing just yet.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Reed woke from a deep sleep and shot straight up from bed. Something in the dream he’d been having clicked a piece of the puzzle into place and he finally figured out what had been troubling him about the house. The measurements were off. The distance from the window in the downstairs bedroom to the back wall didn’t match up with the outside dimensions.

  A soft hand touched his back. “Reed? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, babe.” He bent down and kissed her, running the back of his fingers against her cheek. “I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep. There’s something I want to check in the house.” He tossed back the covers and stood, not surprised when Hillary did the same.

  “What is it?”

  “Something’s bothered me about the downstairs bedroom. The numbers don’t match up. When you look at the house from the outside, the distance from the window to the front of the house is greater than inside the room, and there’s not a closet or bathroom taking up the space.”

  Hillary dressed quickly, donning her bullet-proof vest and insisting Reed wear his as well. Even though the breaking and entering threat had been eliminated when Rocky Dixon aka Sal Hobart had been arrested and killed, there was still the matter of five bodies in the floor. Someone had put them there.

  They left Kota in the cottage and walked the short distance to the house next door. Reed guided her around the side and pointed. “Look at that window. Note the distance to the front wall.” After disarming the security alarm, he indicated for Hillary to precede him. He flipped on the lights, admiring the hard work that had gone into the kitchen. Restaurant grade appliances, marble counters and backsplash, cherry cabinets, a large island with seating for six and new pendant lights. It was the best work they’d done to date. There was still a lot of work to accomplish yet, but he had faith that his crew was up to the task.

  They skirted boxes of floor tiles and equipment as they made their way to the bedroom. He snapped on the overhead light. “Now look at the distance from the window to the wall.”

  “You’re right,” she murmured. “It’s much shorter.” Her phone buzzed, her eyes widening in surprise. “A call this late can’t be good.” She pulled it out and glanced at the screen. “It’s my office.” She stepped aside to answer.

  Reed padded to the back wall, eying the light oak paneling, that looked as if it had been nailed up haphazardly. Edges didn’t match up and several boards buckled. It would be ripped down and replaced with drywall and fresh paint in a sand tone to bring the beach inside. It looked like a solid wall, but looks could be deceiving. He started at one end, running his fingers along the panels. If he had a cigar, he’d try the trick he saw once on an episode of NCIS where Tony DiNozzo used smoke from a stogie to detect an opening. Just then, he encountered a nick that was thick and wide. He stuck his finger inside and was shocked when the panel shifted. The door was thick and padded as he tugged it open. A noxious odor floated out to punch him in the gut. It smelled like a well-used locker room, slash men’s room, slash chemistry lab. The aroma of sweat mixed with the stench of urine and chemicals was noxious. He ran his hand along the wall and found a switch.

  When light flooded the room, he staggered back, his mouth agape in shock. At first, his mind couldn’t process what he was seeing. Ropes and chains were anchored to one wall. Fifty gallon drums were lined up against the back wall next to a stainless-steel counter. Before him was and a long wooden table. The other wall was covered with what looked like skeletal hands holding wigs in a multitude of lengths and colors. There were dozens of them. Good God, this was a torture chamber.

  And it wasn’t empty.

  #

  Hillary checked the display on her phone. Tyler Redmond. He must have found something major to be calling at this hour. “Hey Tyler, what’s up?”

  “Sorry to call so late, but I have some news for you. Two things, actually. The first is that Martin and Imogene Grimes had another son, Martin Junior. They called him Marty.”

  “You’re kidding? How come no one knew about him?”

  “He disappeared when he was twelve. They were living in Charlotte at the time. The parents told police he’d run away. A search was conducted that lasted for three weeks but was eventually called off when there were no leads.”

  “That’s strange.”

  “Marty got into all kinds of trouble, from bullying kids at school to harming neighborhood pets to injuring his own brother. Broke several of his bones. You know how they say some kids are just born bad? That was Marty. They tried counseling but the reports said that he was unable to feel empathy. They told police he talked about running off constantly, so everyone assumed he’d followed through.”

  “At twelve years old? Seems a little young to me.”

  “Yeah, it did to me, too.”

  “What do you think happened to him?”

  “No idea. There’s no trail. One day he was there, gone the next. No hits on his social security number in the subsequent years. The parents had him declared legally dead on his nineteenth birthday. Who knows, maybe they killed him to save Calvin and all of mankind.”

  “Well, that’s sufficiently disturbing. What else did you find?”

  “Three similar cases of bodies found buried in the floors of abandoned houses when they were demolished. The first was in Portland, Oregon, two years ago. Hand and hair missing, but the bodies were left with the skin and organs. The next report was Wichita, Kansas, last year. Again, hand and hair missing and this time, the skin was removed, but the bones weren’t cleaned. Finally, Chattanooga, ten months ago. Hand, hair and skin gone. Clean bones. The detective in Tennessee linked the three cases and the investigation is active, but stalled. No leads in any of the three cities.”

  “If it’s our killer, and it sounds like it is, he worked his way across the country, perfecting his craft, so to speak.”

  “Those are the ones we know about that were logged into the system. There could be more.”

  “Hillary!”

  Hillary spun around at Reed’s outcry. “I have to go, Tyler. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She jammed the phone in her pocket and raced to an opening in the wall that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. A strong odor permeated the air, making her eyes water. “Reed? What—” She gasped when she stepped through the portal. Reed was standing over a woman strapped to a wood table.

  “She’s breathing, but barely.”

  Hillary rushed forward, wincing at the bruises and burns that marked the woman’s naked body. She’d been brutalized. Bones were clearly visible beneath her damaged flesh. Her hands and legs were anchored to the table by metal cuffs, the skin around the bands raw and bloody. She’d tried to get away. Repeatedly.

  They both jumped and spun around when the door slammed shut behind them, sealing them inside with the battered woman and the toxic fumes. A man stood before them holding a gun. It wasn’t the weapon that frightened her…it was the look of utter deadness in his eyes.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “I see you’ve met Penny.”

  Penny? A lightbulb clicked and Hillary’s mind flashed back to the necklace she found on the floor. It was the letter P carved from a copper penny. It had to belong to this girl. She inched over, intending to place her body in front of Reed. He growled at her but she ignored him. “Marty?”

  The man’s head cocked sideways.

  “Martin Grimes, Junior is your name, isn’t it?”

  He scratched his disheveled hair with the hand not holding the gun. “How do yo
u know who I am? No one knows who I am. I don’t exist. I’m dead.”

  “You’re not dead, Marty. You’re standing right in front of me. I know who you are. You’re Martin and Imogene’s son. This was your house, wasn’t it, Marty?”

  He shook his head frantically. “This was not my house. I never lived here. But it should be mine. I was born first.”

  She crept closer to Reed. “What happened to you, Marty? No one’s heard from you in twenty years. Your parents had you declared dead. Did you run away like they said? Where did you go, Marty?”

  Marty slashed his hand through the air. “Liars! They sent me away to some institution across the country! I was drugged and held prisoner for years. I was beaten and starved and treated like an animal. I was tied to my bed and I couldn’t even get up to go to the bathroom. I wasn’t even human. I wished I was dead, every single day.”

  As Penny probably had, Hillary thought. “What happened?”

  Marty twitched and Hillary took a defensive stance in front of Reed, lest Marty’s trigger finger jerk unexpectedly. She jolted when she felt Reed’s hand on her back. If he tried to move her…wait. He was unzipping her pack. The weight of her gun was removed.

  “I escaped.”

  She needed to keep Marty talking until the opportunity to overtake him arose. He was too far away with his hand poised on the lever of a semi-automatic pistol. If he applied enough pressure, bullets would spray the inside of the room. The vests wouldn’t protect them. “How did you escape, Marty?”

  There was that twitch again. “I pretended to take the medication and then I spit it out. They thought I was drugged so they didn’t watch me too close. I overpowered a guard and stole his uniform.”

  “You were coming home, weren’t you Marty? You worked your way across the country. Did you know your parents had passed away?”

  Marty’s face scrunched in anger. “No, and it made me mad. I wanted to kill them myself.”

  “What about your brother? Did you know Calvin had died?”

  He shook his head like a rabid dog. “My brother wasn’t dead. Is now.”

  A sickening suspicion came over her. “What did you do, Marty?”

  He either shrugged or twitched again, she couldn’t tell. “Calvin was a tattletale. He’s the reason I got sent away. I took care of him.”

  “You killed your brother?”

  He nodded rapidly, apparently finished with the subject as he segued to a different topic. “I wasn’t happy when you invaded my home.”

  “But you just said it wasn’t yours, Marty,” she pointed out.

  “Shoulda been. I was born first. Not Calvin. Now he’s dead. It’s mine.”

  “Yes, it is,” she agreed, needing him to keep talking. “I’m sorry we trespassed in your home, Marty. But how did you stay out of the range of the cameras? We never saw you coming or going.”

  “I’ve been a ghost for years. I’m good at it.”

  “What about Penny? How did you get her inside without anyone noticing? That had to be very hard to do.”

  “I used a delivery box. You pretend like you belong, no one notices. That’s what I did. I pretended. I walked in and out without anyone stopping me. All the time. All the time.”

  She indicated the wall covered with colorful tresses, each one displayed on a skeletal hand. “All the bundles of hair, the hands, those are your souvenirs?”

  Marty smiled maniacally. “I like long hair.” He eyed hers and she fought a shudder.

  “You like women, right Marty?” He nodded eagerly in agreement, his eyes wide. “Then let him go.” She jerked a thumb in Reed’s direction. “You don’t want another man in here.”

  “Hillary,” Reed growled in warning.

  She ignored him. “It’ll just be you and me and Penny. What do you say, Marty? We can let him go, right?”

  The question seemed to perplex him. “I know you have a gun. You might try to hurt me.”

  She lifted her hands. “No, I don’t, Marty. I didn’t bring it with me,” she lied. “I didn’t think I’d need it so I left it at home.” She did, however, push the emergency alert button on her watch. Her office would be notified she was in imminent distress and send immediate help. “You’ll let him go?”

  He shook his head, unwilling to release Reed. She decided to get him talking again. “You hid the bones out there in the floor, didn’t you, Marty? Your personal burial grounds?”

  A smile filled with pride lifting his lips. “Yep.”

  “The bones are so clean. How did you do that?”

  “It’s fun. I’ll let you watch with Penny. First, I take a knife and remove her skin and organs and dispose of it in there.” He indicated a large metal drum.

  “Oh, God,” Reed muttered.

  “Then I boil the bones in my own special mixture. I can’t tell you what it is.” He giggled and covered his mouth with his hand. “My secret. Gets them nice and clean.”

  “You remove the hair first though, don’t you, Marty? You cut it off so you can keep it forever.”

  He nodded hysterically, then motioned with the gun. “Enough talk. Penny is getting restless.” She chanced a look at the woman, who hadn’t so much as twitched, as Marty was doing again. Hillary feared Penny was already dead.

  “Chain yourself to the wall. Him first. Put the cuffs around him, nice and tight.”

  They backed against the wall and slid to the ground. She picked up a chain to lock the binds around Reed’s wrists. She left slack in her cuff, hoping to be able to pull her hand free. She needed to be able to make a move when the time came. Her hopes were dashed when Marty plodded over and secured the cuff. Metal bit into her wrist but she refused to cry out. Then before she could react, he hit Reed with the butt of the gun, sending his head slamming into the wall.

  “Reed!”

  He slumped down beside her.

  Oh, God, oh, God, she had to do something to help him. He’d just had one concussion, she didn’t know if his brain could process two so close together. She was so preoccupied with Reed, she didn’t see Marty approach until she felt the small prick in her arm. Her eyes widened in dismay. “What was that?”

  “Just a little something to hold you over until I can take care of Penny.” Marty smiled, revealing yellow, rotted teeth. “Then it will be your turn.”

  Her lids were already starting to droop. Whatever he injected her with was fast-acting. “Please, Marty, don’t hurt Penny. She’s suffered enough.”

  He looked at her funny. “I don’t hurt Penny. I don’t hurt any of them. I give them what they want.” He turned away.

  She valiantly fought the effects of the drug. “Wait.” When Marty faced her again, she added, “You said I could watch.”

  “Plenty of time for that.” Using a disposable lighter, he lit a fat white candle and then held a small object to the flame. When the tip glowed bright red, he padded to Penny.

  “No!”

  But it was too late. He’d already stuck the burning end against the back of her hand, making the skin hiss and smoke. Penny didn’t make a sound. Hillary swallowed hard. She was dead.

  Marty nodded with satisfaction. He pried the lid off one of the metal drums, releasing more toxic fumes into the enclosed space and it was all she could do not to choke. Then he unlocked the cuffs around Penny’s arms and legs.

  “Wait—where are you taking her?”

  “To my special table so I can remove her skin.” He lifted her into his arms and turned. Penny bucked unexpectedly. Marty cried out in surprise, dropping her to the floor with a heavy thud. He stumbled and tripped over her body, throwing his arms out to catch himself. His hands landed inside the open barrel and they sizzled. “Ah! My hands! My hands!” He yanked them out and Hillary gasped as skin melted from bones. It must be acid inside the drum. His agonized screams were ear-shattering and savage. He floundered around the room, his arms flailing as he banged into the table and knocked the candle over onto papers littering the counter, igniting them instantly. Flames
danced along the surface, engulfing everything in its path. Smoke began to fill the space. Marty was too busy writhing in pain to notice.

  Hillary frantically worked on the cuffs. If they didn’t get out, they would die. She didn’t know how long she had until the drug kicked in, but there was a very real possibility the smoke or flames would overtake them first. She had to get Reed to safety.

  “I’ve got one hand loose. Smart to lock the cuff around my cast.”

  “Reed! You’re okay? Your head?”

  “I faked most of it. I saw the hit coming and avoided the brunt. I banged my cast against the wall to sound realistic.”

  The relief she felt was massive. “Thank goodness.”

  “The keys are on the counter. He’s too preoccupied melting like the Wicked Witch of the West. Let me see if I can grab them.” With his wide wingspan, he was able to reach out with his free hand and finger the keyring.

  Marty’s wails cut off abruptly as he noticed the flames for the first time. Then they resumed, gaining intensity. “My hair! My hair!” He tried to gather the bundles hanging from the wall with his ruined hands, knocking them to the floor.

  Reed found the correct key and unlocked her cuffs. Her vision was compromised, but she grabbed the gun from Reed’s waistband where he’d stashed it and pushed unsteadily to her feet. “Freeze, Marty.”

  Marty spun around, his eyes wild. Hanks of hair draped over his head and shoulders, making him look like a crazed Yeti. With a feral yell, he charged. Hillary pulled the trigger, hitting him in the shoulder. He staggered but kept coming. She shot again, hitting him in the leg this time. A head shot would’ve done the trick, but her vision was compromised. Plus, she wanted to keep him alive so he could identify his victims. Their families deserved closure.

  The room grew thick and heavy with smoke. Before she could squeeze off another shot, Marty lowered his shoulder and slammed into the door, sending it banging against the wall as he rolled to safety.

  “Unlock me, Hillary. We need to get out of here.”