The Green-Eyed Doll

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The Green-Eyed Doll Page 29

by Jerrie Alexander


  “Shut up,” he screamed. “That cocksucker isn’t smart enough to find his dick in the dark. He don’t scare me none. Keep talking and I’ll drop by and pay a visit to that old bitch you seem to be so crazy about. How long’s it been you think since she’s had a good fuck?”

  Fear for Emma rocketed through her nervous system. Catherine fought to control her bladder. She pulled her panic inside. She’d learned while in the woman’s shelter how to diffuse or at least slow down a temper tantrum. Her martial arts training taught her how to remain calm and defend herself. At the first opportunity, she’d put those to the test.

  His gun hand shook. Sweat ran down his neck. The inside of the truck was sweltering.

  “You forced me to move too fast. Made me change plans. After that news story broke, getting you alone was gonna be impossible. You’re a big time celebrity now everybody knows you killed your husband. Let me say, you won’t get that chance with me. You’ve been a naughty doll.”

  “If I did something to upset you….” Her words trailed off. Mouth went dry. One word stopped her cold. Doll.

  “Oh. You finally catching up? Well, I don’t have time to explain. I’ve got to get back to work. Can’t have the boss start wondering about me. You and me gonna get a few things straight later tonight.”

  Danny shot her a look, eyes flat, his lips turned down into a snarl. She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from throwing up. The blood rushed from her head, and she struggled to hang on to the light. She refused to blackout. The way to survive was to stay alert and pay attention to everything. Learn as much as possible. A quick glance at her watch said they’d been driving for twenty minutes. Which direction? Where to?

  The odors in the cab of his truck nauseated her. The smell of fear and hate coupled with the raw heat from the sun beating down on the pickup pitched her stomach into turmoil. She gagged.

  “Don’t you puke in my truck.”

  “I’m cooking down here. My clothes are stuck to my body. If you don’t turn the air on, I might not be able to control myself.”

  “Put your hands under your ass?” He waved the pistol at her.

  “What?”

  “Sit on your hands or sweat. Your choice.”

  After Catherine managed to wiggle her hands far enough under her to satisfy him, he held the gun and fiddled with the air conditioner buttons at the same time. She held her breath. How easy it would be for him to accidently squeeze the trigger. The air came on full blast, but she couldn’t feel much from her position. Danny had the vents pointed straight at his face. He stretched his neck and the blood ran from her head. Scratches. Dear God.

  When the pickup left the pavement, Catherine listened closely. The road was filled with potholes. A few minutes later, Danny stopped and let out a big sigh.

  “We made it. We’re home. Safe and sound.”

  The change in him sent ice crystals spiraling up Catherine’s spine. He’d morphed in front of her eyes from an angry, desperate lunatic to an excited child. He turned the engine off and ran around to her side.

  “Easy getting out. Let me help.” He slid his sweaty hands under her arms and pulled her to her feet. “It’s not much, but it’s private.”

  Catherine scanned the outside of the mobile home and its surroundings. She couldn’t see the road from where she stood. He’d isolated her somewhere deep in a heavily wooded area. No—in a thicket. Matt’s words came to mind. He and his men tried to search a thicket on JC’s property. JC and Danny couldn’t have been partners. Could they? Was Matt searching this area? Hope rose and soared through her heart.

  “Go in the house, Catherine. You’re looking for a way out. Believe me when I tell you there isn’t one. You can scream your lungs out. Ain’t nobody gonna hear.” The glint behind his eyes turned icy. “So forget escape.”

  He held her hand and led her in the house. “You’ll be happy here with me. You made it clear you wanted me. Out here it’s just the two of us.”

  He shoved her down on a bed and jerked one of her shoes off. She watched in horror while he snapped a handcuff around her ankle. No way was she making a sound when the metal bit into her skin.

  “I’ve got to get back to work. Bathroom’s right there. Make use of it as you see fit.”

  Danny hurried to the kitchen and a few minutes later returned with a Dairy Dream cup containing a drink poured over ice. “In case you get thirsty before I get back. This’ll have to tide you over.”

  Without another word, he left. Catherine squeezed her eyes shut, breathed deeply for a second. Images of what could happen when Danny returned flashed through her mind. Grasping onto a thread of reason, she refused to believe it was her time to die.

  She looked around the bedroom. A small chest of drawers was wedged into one corner, a closet with mirrored sliding glass doors, and the bed filled the space.

  Three women had been raped and murdered. Had those women died on the mattress where she now sat? “Shit.” Catherine jumped and ran. The small chain attached to the handcuff tangled around her foot and sent her crashing to the floor face first. She scrambled backward into the hall, unable to wrench her gaze away. The bedroom was a death chamber. A tremor rocked her body, and what felt like millions of ants stung under her skin.

  Now wasn’t the time to lose control. She pulled herself together and inspected the cuff around her ankle, ignoring the bruise already forming. She tugged at the chain, stood, and followed it back to its origin. The damn thing ran under the bed and through a small hole in the floor. It had to be anchored to something underneath the trailer.

  Catherine pushed herself to her feet and walked the length of her tether. She could make it to the bathroom sink and toilet. Fully aware the other women had probably done the same, she methodically conducted a search for anything to use as a weapon or a way to unlock the cuff. The places she couldn’t walk to, she scanned carefully.

  She tested the drink Danny left for her. It tasted like stale, bitter iced tea, but at least it was cold and wet. Before the second swallow, a memory of something she’d seen on the kitchen counter blasted into her mind. She retraced her steps down the hall and studied the kitchen counter. A medicine bottle and capsules lay on the counter. A few of them had been pulled apart.

  “You should’ve put those up before you left to get back to work. Got in a hurry, didn’t you?” Careful not to let the ice fall in the toilet, she poured out the liquid contents of the drink. The cup with the ice was laid on its side next to the deathbed. Catherine sat on the floor and planned her escape. She’d be ready when Danny returned.

  ****

  Friday, September 8th, 5:00 p.m.

  “You’re gut was right...again.” Ash looked up from reading the report from Jessie’s autopsy. “If she scratched JC, we didn’t see them. Could’ve been under his clothes.”

  “Reinhardt sent everything he dug out from under her fingernails to the feds. Now we wait. Too bad she didn’t gouge an eye out, make him easier to ID. Maybe she got him on the face.”

  Matt’s eyelids felt like raw sandpaper every time he blinked. No sleep for him last night. He and the dog had tried to sort out how their life had gotten so messed up. Benedict had stuck to Matt’s side, rubbing his head against Matt at every opportunity. Somehow, he’d picked up on Matt’s pain, and they’d connected through their mutual loss.

  “Old buddy, you need to get some rest. You look like crap.”

  “Don’t mother me.”

  Ash had his mouth open when the conference room door opened, and Jake stepped inside. “You have an emergency call.” He nodded at the phone on the conference room table. “Line one. It’s Emma Williamson, she—”

  Matt punched the button and had Emma on the speaker before Jake finished his sentence. “Matt here. What’s up?”

  “It’s Catherine. She hasn’t come back, and I’m getting worried. By now she should’ve dressed for work and gone to the Saddleback.”

  “Come back from where?” Matt asked.

  “
The newspaper offices and TV station. She went to set the record straight.”

  “How early? What record?” Matt stood, and the hair on his arms rose with him.

  “I drove her to town so she could pick up her car around eight this morning. Her first stop should’ve been before nine. Catherine was determined to tell her side of the story and make it clear you had no knowledge of her past. Then she was coming home, and...” Emma paused.

  “Go on.” Matt shoved his cell across to Ash. “Call Catherine,” he whispered. Without hesitation, Ash scrolled through to a number and pushed Call.

  “She was coming home to start packing.”

  “Emma, listen carefully. Get a pen and write down my cell. If you see her pull in the driveway call me that second. Or if she calls, do the same. You said she was driving her own car again?”

  “Yes. I don’t know her license plate number.”

  “I’ll get it.” Matt’s mind jumped from thought to thought. Ash laid the cell down and shook his head. “Emma, I promise, you’ll hear as soon as I know something.” Matt disconnected.

  Jake stood in the doorway, listening, his face was somber. “I checked with Marty while you were on the phone. She hasn’t talked to Catherine. Marty had called, got voicemail.”

  “Thanks. You’re always two steps ahead of me.” Matt combed his hands through his hair and pushed back the gnawing in his gut.

  Ash and Jake stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of his desk. Matt tried to convince himself that with his dedicated men on his side they’d find her. “Let’s try to locate her car and her phone.”

  “Matt,” Jake said in his calm and steady voice. “I’ll get the BOLO and the GPS trace on the cell started right away. You have to let me take point. You’re too close.”

  “I can’t. If she’s done something crazy, it’s my fault.” Matt leaned back in his chair and tried to catch his breath.

  “You think she could’ve gotten in and out without Emma seeing her?” Ash theorized. “Maybe she wanted to avoid a tearful goodbye. She might already be gone.”

  “I need to know.” He pushed away and started for the door. Matt had to be sure she wasn’t in trouble. Had he driven her out of town? Given the way he’d behaved, he wouldn’t blame her for leaving.

  Ash followed with hunched shoulders and hands stuffed into his pockets. Matt read the signs of worry on his old partner.

  Matt stopped at Sue’s desk on the way out. “Tell Jake to fill you in. He can call or radio me with any information he comes up with.” He ignored the questions in her eyes. There wasn’t time to explain.

  Jake radioed Matt before they reached Catherine’s house. They’d located her car. He spun the cruiser around and headed for the address. It was a few blocks away from the courthouse and a mile from the garage where her car had been repaired. He sent a deputy to the garage with instructions to talk to everyone there who’d spoken to her. Had she seemed upset? Mentioned leaving town?

  “Sonofabitch. The motherfucker has her.” Matt slapped the hood of her car. “I knew JC wasn’t the killer.”

  “We’re not sure she’s been kidnapped.”

  Matt wasn’t buying Ash’s theory. “Don’t treat me like I’m some ordinary husband who doesn’t know jack-shit. The murdering bastard has her.” The words sliced him wide open, the truth made him bleed inside. “Her car’s empty, her cell and purse left behind. It’s the same damn MO.” The sharp pain in Matt’s chest was rivaled only by the flood of fear racing through his veins.

  He snatched his vibrating cell off his hip and hope flared. Emma was calling. “Did Catherine call?”

  “No. There’s something you should see. I’d like you to come to my house.”

  “Emma,” Matt tried to put her off.

  “No, Matt,” she interrupted. “This is important.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Friday, September 8th, 6:00 p.m.

  Emma ran out the front door straight to Matt. “Did you find her?” Her face was pale, her eyes wide with hope.

  “Not yet.” Matt stepped out and walked to meet Emma, keeping his tone reassuring as possible. “What did you want me to see?”

  Ash got out with Matt and asked, “May we take a look in the little house while we’re here?”

  “If it will help.” Her hand fluttered in the direction of the main house. “The extra key’s on a nail by the back door. I’ll get it.”

  Ash was already moving. “Let me.” He sprinted up on the back porch and into Emma’s home.

  “Emma, you wanted to show me something.” Matt drew her attention back to him. She was frustrated and scared, and he tried to be patient.

  Ash burst out of her back door. “Got it.”

  “Go with him,” Emma said. “I’ll bring it to you.”

  Matt wanted to argue, but instead pointed Emma back toward her house and joined Ash.

  Matt walked past Catherine’s bathroom. “Shit,” he hissed. His fear rocketed to terror. Pain slashed through his gut, a scalpel slicing away at hope. Her makeup, hair dryer, everything, reminded him of how stupid he’d been. He had to find her.

  “Sheriff?” Emma called from the front porch.

  Matt turned on his heel and went to Emma, who held a small wooden box in her hands. She handed it to him then backed away. Indecision played across her face.

  “I hope I’m doing the right thing. She left this with me for safekeeping. She was afraid of what you’d think, but now things are out in the open. It’s my opinion...you need to read this.”

  Matt fought back his need to rejoin the search for Catherine. Emma believed this information was important, so he sat on the love seat and opened the box.

  He picked up the document on top and read a physicians sworn statement regarding the abuse of Catherine Marie McCoy Andrews. Cracked ribs. Multiple times treated for bruised kidneys. Contusions, all carefully placed where no one would see. The night she shot and killed her husband, she had choke marks on her neck. She’d almost died.

  The weight of the world slowly pressed him further and further down. He studied the sworn statement from a women’s shelter in Tulsa where she’d sought refuge, and then found a job before moving to her own place. Tears for her suffering threatened, causing him to close his eyes and concentrate.

  How could he have been so bull-headed?

  He was vaguely aware of Ash sitting down, clamping a strong hand on Matt’s shoulder. He forced himself to continue reading. Ash handed him an arrest warrant for Catherine and a couple of news stories in direct contradiction to the doctor’s deposition. On the bottom of the pile, Matt found a document from the Oklahoma Grand Jury finding Catherine killed her estranged husband in self-defense.

  “She’d made it out, found a job, and started a new life. This crazy bastard hunted her down and tried to kill her.” Ash’s voice dropped as he spoke, filled with compassion.

  “My God. What she went through.” Matt threw the papers back into the box. “I had no doubt if she took his life she had no other choice. But hell no, I wouldn’t listen. For a second time in her life, a man, and the law, has let her down. One tried to kill her and the other ran her out of her home into a killer’s arms.” He searched Ash’s face for answers or hope and found neither.

  “I’m sorry, man,” Ash said, his tone troubled.

  Matt jerked his vibrating cell to his ear. “Talk.”

  “We’ve got something,” Jake said, excitement riding high in his voice. “The deputy I sent to the garage talked to the owner. He remembered Catherine picking up her car but didn’t notice her acting weird or nervous. She paid her bill and left. Here’s the kicker, Danny Mason left right after she did. He came back a couple of hours later, but wasn’t worth a shit for the rest of the day. Matt, he has scratches on his neck.”

  Matt ran for the cruiser, Ash at his side. “Sonofabitch. We’ve got him.”

  “I sent a car, he’s not at home,” Jake continued.

  “Search his apartment. I know where he lives and we’
ll be there in minutes.”

  “I’ve already called the judge and got a verbal on a warrant. Rey will pick it up and meet us there.”

  Matt disconnected. “Goddammit. I should’ve dug deeper into Danny Mason.”

  “Didn’t you do a follow up after Jake talked to him?”

  “Yeah. I talked to him and Mel Hamilton. Both checked out clean.”

  “You had no way of knowing. Stop kicking yourself in the ass.”

  Matt called Sue and updated her quickly. “I want to know everything about this bastard. If he has Catherine, we have to figure out where. Fast.”

  ****

  Friday, September 8th, 7:00 p.m.

  A door slam sent Catherine’s brain whirring. The time had come to fight back. She wouldn’t die peacefully. She wanted to live, to make things right with Matt. No way was she giving up. She loved him, and that knowledge strengthened her. She would escape. Catherine grudgingly lay down on the disgusting bed and draped her arm to look as if the cup had fallen from her hand, and the ice had melted where it landed.

  She’d prayed Danny would return while it was daylight but the sun had disappeared and it was dark inside the trailer. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and her heart beat too fast. She was awake and alert. He had to believe she was still drugged or her plan would fail. She slowed her breathing and forced her eyes closed.

  The light came on down the hall and footsteps came closer. Her insides were on fire, but she lay still as death.

  “Wake up.”

  When Catherine felt Danny’s hand on her rib cage, she bit down on the inside of her mouth to suppress a scream. He shook her, and she feigned a groggy look by batting her eyes rapidly before slowly looking up at the face looming over her. “I’m awake.” She purposely slurred her words. “What happened?”

  “It’s time you learned the house rules.” He grasped her shoulders tightly and shook hard.

  Tremors shot through her body, and she couldn’t control the twitching. She had to convince him to take the cuff off her ankle. Then she’d escape or he would kill her, but he wouldn’t rape her...not while she was alive. No more surrendering her self-respect. No more submitting to humiliation. These were numbers one and two on the Never list.

 

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