by Wanda Dyson
JJ sighed with relief as he skidded the car to a stop behind one of the fire engines. Fleming and Bevere were right behind him as he wove through ambulances and fire trucks, stepping over water hoses and dodging firefighters.
He stopped at the curb and stared at the destruction. Most of the flames were succumbing to the walls of water being showered down on them, and smoke billowed into the night sky, a light gray against the black.
Both townhouses would be a total loss.
JJ spotted Keyes sitting on the rear bumper of an ambulance, a blanket around his shoulders. An EMT held an oxygen mask to his mouth.
He walked over and nodded to the EMT, flashing his badge. “Keyes? Where’s Zoe?”
Keyes gave him a blank stare that slowly cleared. “Zoe? She was with one of the firefighters.”
“Where?”
Keyes pointed somewhere behind him. “He took her that way.”
JJ nodded and walked where Keyes had pointed. No Zoe. He walked around every truck, stopped at every ambulance, talking to one firefighter after another. No one had seen Zoe.
Bevere showed up at his side a few minutes later. “Find Zoe?”
JJ shook his head as he stopped and looked around. He should have been able to find her by now.
“We got another problem.”
“What’s that?”
Donnie edged JJ away from a group of neighbors clustered on the sidewalk watching the action. “Linc. The agent posted outside. He’s dead.”
JJ’s brows raised. “What?”
Bevere shook his head. “One shot to the temple. He never saw it coming.”
Realization came fast and hard. “This was a diversion. He has her!”
“Looks that way.”
“He got Zoe.” JJ slammed his open hand against the side of the fire truck. “I want a roadblock set up now!”
“It’s in the works.”
He grabbed his cell phone and dialed the station for backup. “I want them here on the double! And call Casto!”
JJ spied Fleming walking toward them, talking furiously into his cell phone, a stormy look on his face. He stopped when he reached them.
“No, I do not want to hear excuses. I want it done now!” He lifted his eyes to the power lines above their heads. “Let me put it this way: If it’s not done within the next fifteen minutes, there are going to be some very abrupt ends to some careers. Do you copy that?”
JJ’s gaze drifted over Fleming’s shoulder as the first pale ribbons of dawn began to appear on the horizon. The day was off to a real bad start.
#
No sirens. No shouts. No engines. It seemed as if the world had been swallowed up in silence. Zoe tried to open her eyes but found it difficult. Her body felt heavy, as if the blood that ran though her veins had turned to lead. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know what time it was, or even what day. Time came to a sudden halt and she drifted in a cloud of nothingness.
She had a vague recollection of flames and smoke, but it was more a dream than a memory. A photograph album. A fireman. Her father’s voice. Had it been real, or was she on the edge of a nightmare?
A voice drifted through the silence and into her thoughts. Familiar. Male. She reached for it with her mind and recoiled.
“Ah, my dear Zoe. How foolish of you to think you could beat me at my own game.”
#
Justus leaned against the counter, his powdered donut dusting his chin and shirt as he ate. He watched the antiquated fax machine send his request slower than an old tortoise on his way to the soup pot. He glanced at the clock. It wasn’t six yet, but he was still hoping to receive a response within the hour. He was hanging his hopes on the off chance that someone would come in early on a Saturday.
He was close to identifying the John Doe found in the Matthews’ backyard. An examination of the victim’s teeth revealed dental work infamous in the military. A piece of shrapnel in the man’s hip confirmed Justus’s suspicions.
Finishing his poor excuse for a breakfast, Justus brushed off the powdered sugar and reached for his coffee. He’d been up for almost thirty-six hours straight and felt every minute of it. A glance in the mirror would confirm he looked horrible, so he avoided looking.
It didn’t matter anyway. Solving this mystery was far more important than his looks.
#
Zoe heard herself whimper, but the sound was distant and detached. Her head hurt, her body ached, and she couldn’t feel her legs. She tried to lift a hand to her face, but it refused to move.
Slowly, painfully, she opened her eyes and blinked, trying to see through blurred vision and dark shadows. She smelled dirt, decay, and dust. The air was dank and heavy with mold. Little by little her vision cleared and she could make out the cellar—the dirt floor, the concrete walls, the spider webs, the narrow staircase, a door.
“Mom?”
There was no answer.
She wiggled her fingers and felt the rough fibers of the blanket below her and the cold metal frame of a cot. She was tied down.
Lifting her head a little, she glanced at the ropes binding her arms and feet. She let her head fall gently back to the cot.
“Where is my mother, you filthy piece of human trash!” she screamed as loud as she could.
A door hinge creaked and she knew he was there, somewhere in the shadows. She could feel the evil as sure as if the devil himself had entered the room.
“Ah, so you’re awake. How delightful.” He remained in the shadows. Watching.
“Where is my mother?”
“Alive. And that’s all you need concern yourself with at the moment. How long she remains that way depends entirely on you.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
He laughed. “Because you don’t trust me. I can’t imagine why. But then again, you’re a woman. One can’t expect you to understand everything.”
She narrowed her eyes, trying to see the murky silhouette. “I understand enough to know that you are sick.”
Then he moved.
A sliver of light from the room behind him illuminated his face.
She gasped. “You! How. . .but. . .”
The look in his eyes sent a shiver down her back.
“My dear Zoe, now you understand why I couldn’t allow you to live.”
chapter 32
Saturday, April 29
Karen placed a hand on Ray’s arm. “Stay here.” She didn’t wait for acknowledgment as she slowly made her way to the front of the church. She stared up at the cross on the wall behind the pulpit, trying to formulate the words in her heart.
Dropping to her knees on the velvet-padded altar, she bowed her head. “Thank You. You were faithful even when I wasn’t. You were there even when I didn’t believe You were. And in spite of all my faults and all my doubts and all my inadequacies, You stayed in control. Help me to never doubt You again.”
She heard the door open behind her and the whisper of additional voices. With one last word of thanks, she stood to her feet and turned around.
Nora McCaine stood next to Ray with Jessica in her arms. Benson had called Nora from the police station to arrange Jessica’s return. Karen insisted that the meeting take place at the church. The Lord had brought her baby back to her. What better place for her happy reunion than in His house.
She walked briskly to the rear of the church and, with a flood of tears, reached for her daughter. She couldn’t see Jessica’s face through the blur of emotion, but she didn’t need to. She could smell her familiar baby smell. She could feel Jessica in her arms. She could hear Jessica’s familiar whimper.
“Hey, baby. Mommy has you now. Everything’s okay now.”
She knew even as she said the words that they weren’t entirely true. Ted was still unaccounted for and would remain a constant threat. And she wouldn’t be blind anymore to the fact that evil was out there, ready to pounce on innocent lives. It would take every bit of her will to keep Jessica safe without smothering her with overz
ealous protection.
Lifting her eyes, she blinked and smiled at Nora McCaine—a woman with a heart as big as Karen’s love. “I can’t even begin to thank you for all you’ve done.”
“You don’t have to. She was the delight of our lives. We’re going to miss her so much.”
Karen reached out as Nora’s voice began to shake. “Don’t. Don’t walk out of her life. You’re an important part of it for her and for me. I want us to be friends. I never gave Jessica godparents. I’d be honored if you and your husband would consider taking the job.”
Nora choked out a laugh and a crooked smile as she leaned into her husband. “I’d love that.”
Karen squeezed Nora’s hand. “Good.”
After a few more minutes, Karen walked out of the church with Ray at her side and Jessica in her arms. She looked back. “Why aren’t Nora and Charles coming?”
“They’re talking to Rene.” Ray grinned down at her. “It seems a young girl came to Rene and Jeff a few days ago. She got pregnant and she’s just sixteen. She wants to give her baby up for adoption to someone special.”
Karen smiled. “They don’t come much more special than Nora and Charles McCaine. I hope it works out for them.”
“Somehow I think the Lord has this all worked out.”
Karen laughed as he opened the car door for her. “For once, I am not going to disagree with you.”
“Good. Now I’m going to take you and my niece out for breakfast.”
#
JJ was leaning so far over the seat that he was almost in Donnie’s lap as Fleming drove and Donnie studied the screen. “Take a right here.”
Donnie glared over his shoulder at JJ. “Do you mind?”
“No.” Ignoring Donnie’s hint, JJ studied the screen for himself. It wasn’t all that hard to figure out. The little dot that was stationary, and had been for the past fifteen minutes, was Zoe. That the little point of light kept blinking was no indication, however, that her heart was still beating or that her lungs were still drawing air.
And it was driving him crazy.
Thirty minutes after the discovery of the murdered agent, Fleming and his forces were already tracking Zoe. They figured the killer had about an hour’s lead on them. Every minute counted.
They had wasted almost five minutes trying to calm Keyes and convince him to stay behind.
“Left! Left!” Donnie jumped in his seat and JJ jumped with him, startled by the sudden high-pitched emotion in the agent’s voice.
JJ was thrown sideways against the door as Fleming hit the brakes and turned the wheel sharply. The car bounced as it slid onto a dirt road with more ruts than a railroad crossing.
They were heading south-southwest, deeper into land covered with dairy farms, soybean fields, and trees.
The dirt road curled and wove through thick patches of foliage that nearly obliterated any sunlight. JJ had no idea where they were, and sweat trickled down his back. They could, at any moment, break out of the trees and be right on top of where Zoe was, losing all element of surprise. They could, even now, be close enough for the killer to hear the car engines.
JJ turned and looked out the back window. It was hard to see clearly through the dust kicked up by the tires, but the other cars were still behind them.
“Slow down,” Donnie instructed Fleming. “We’re close.”
JJ felt his lungs empty in a sudden rush of adrenalin. He reached down and pulled his weapon out of its holster. With one practiced movement, he dropped the clip, checked to make sure it was full, and then popped it back into the handle. He pulled back the slide and felt the nervous anticipation that always came with the sound of a bullet being chambered.
Fleming slowed the car to a stop. JJ tugged the blue cap he’d been given lower over his eyes and climbed out of the car. White FBI letters were emblazoned on the front of the cap for immediate identification in the heat of battle.
JJ wouldn’t be keeping the hat as a souvenir. The FBI weren’t earning any brownie points with him.
Within moments, a crowd of blue uniforms, black suits, and Kevlar vests congregated around Donnie. He spoke quietly, making eye contact with as many as he could as his gaze swept the group. “Directly west, maybe a hundred and fifty to two hundred yards. We have no idea what we’re facing, so be cautious, keep your eyes open, and be ready for anything. We have two women in danger, and we want them both coming out of this alive.”
JJ tuned him out as Donnie formed groups and fanned them out in a sweep to surround the target area. His mind was already tuning into the path he was assigned. Anything could be waiting for them. One wrong move and this whole thing could go wrong. Terribly wrong.
Donnie nodded at him. “Let’s go.”
Somewhere along the way, JJ had learned to trust Bevere. When the rubber hit the road, Donnie was a solid, no-nonsense, confident FBI agent with more sense than age and enough training to make him dangerous to the wrong people.
And in less than three minutes, JJ found out something else about Donnie Bevere: The man was no stranger to moving through the woods like a hunter. He was an expert. JJ suspected Bevere had spent years learning to move silently upon his prey, blending in with the brush and all but disappearing into the foliage.
“You were raised in the country,” JJ whispered.
Donnie smiled. “Shh. Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin my big-city image.”
They continued in silence for another few minutes—Donnie leading with JJ just behind and to his right. Suddenly Donnie stopped, held up two fingers, and then pointed to his left. JJ nodded, palmed his weapon, and slipped away to Donnie’s left.
#
Zoe stumbled and nearly fell as he pushed her from behind. He grabbed her arm and yanked her around. “Don’t play with me! I’ll kill her right now in front of you!”
Zoe’s eyes flashed with rage as she straightened, jerking her arm away from him. “You may have already killed her for all I know! Where is she?”
He shoved her through the door. Bare light bulbs hung from the ceiling. The light blinded her for a second. She blinked. There was another cot, another chair, but her mother wasn’t in either of them. She was sitting on the cold concrete floor, chained to the wall.
“Mom!” Her mother didn’t move—didn’t appear to hear her.
Zoe tried to run forward, but he yanked her back. “You animal! How could you do that to her?”
“You wanted to see her; now you’ve seen her.” He shoved her down on the bed, picked up a roll of duct tape from under the cot, and tore a piece off, sticking it across her mouth.
“That should keep you quiet.”
#
JJ eased his head around the tree and studied the small cabin. It was small—maybe two or three rooms—and in desperate need of attention. Windows were boarded up, the porch sagged precariously, and the roof looked like one good wind could send it toppling.
He felt his heart lurch. Then he shook off the fear. He had a job to do. Stay focused. Breathe. In. Out. Steady. Pay attention.
A soft whistle to his right brought his attention to Donnie. The agent nodded and then waved JJ toward the front porch. JJ acknowledged him with a quick nod of his own and then held up three fingers.
On three. One. Two. Three.
JJ spun out from behind the tree and ran, zigzagging, tucked low, toward the porch. He dived behind the woodpile and took another deep breath. Then he cautiously raised his head toward Donnie and nodded. Seconds later, Donnie came darting across the same way JJ had. He disappeared on the other side of the porch.
Then he stuck his head up. JJ watched Donnie as he keyed the microphone to his headset and quietly checked in with the rest of the team surrounding the house.
Donnie looked at JJ and pointed to the front door. JJ nodded and slowly moved out from behind the woodpile in a low crouch. He stepped carefully onto the porch, wincing when a board creaked softly. He backed up against the building and moved sideways toward the door.
Donnie
came up on the other side. He nodded and, with one swift kick, knocked down the door. JJ went in low—Donnie high. Their guns swept the room as fast as their eyes did.
JJ saw it first. He slowly straightened, feeling the blood rush to his feet.
“Donnie?”
Donnie looked at JJ and then followed JJ’s gaze. “That smart son of a swamp rat.” Donnie reached out and picked up the ankle bracelet Zoe had been wearing.
JJ picked up the note that lay next to it.
“You lose.”
#
Zoe watched as he tied her to the cot. He pulled the knot tight. She winced.
He gazed down at her, smiling with confidence or arrogance or perhaps both. “If you’re depending on that little tracking device they put around your ankle, forget it. It came in handy though. Gives me more time while they chase their tails.”
Rocking back on his haunches, he laughed. “Did you really expect those Feds to come running to your rescue? Or maybe you were expecting Detective Josiah Johnson to be your hero.” He spit on the ground between his feet in disdain. “The man couldn’t find a criminal if he was locked in the same room with him.”
#
Furious, JJ stalked out of the cabin.
“We’re going to get him.”
“And pigs fly. . .” JJ whirled around and glared at Donnie. “When? After he kills her or before?”
“He has to be close by.”
“How do you figure that? Did he leave you some obscure message I missed?”
“There was no time.” Donnie explained in a quiet voice.
“He has all the time in the world! He could be anywhere. He could be over the state border. He could be holed up on the other side of the county.”
“Vince found tire tracks out back. The ground was soft. He left us a trail, and I don’t think he knows it.”
JJ rolled his eyes. “How long do you think that trail is going to last? Let me give you a hint. Until he hits pavement—and then you’re chasing your tails again.”
