As Darkness Fell

by Joanna Wayne

  The plans were already made and falling perfectly into place. Destiny was at hand.

  AFTER TALKING to Sam, Caroline went back to the file she’d been working on before Jack’s call. Sam was going to run a check on every airport in Georgia, Alabama and nearby states, checking for late flights out of the country. And he’d alert the security officers at every airport to be on the lookout for Becky and Jack. He’d tried to assure Caroline that it would be virtually impossible for them to get through airport-security checkpoints and catch a flight out of the country tonight.

  That should have made her feel a whole lot better. It hadn’t. Jack had been standing there listening to everything Becky said. If he’d been planning to take a flight, he’d have changed the plans.

  So what would he do?

  Drive to Canada? Mexico? Those were long drives with a lot of chances to get spotted by cops along the way. So how could they get out of the country and not have to go through airport security? No way, not on a commercial airline.

  “Yes!”

  She called Sam back. “A chartered flight. They’re leaving the country on a chartered flight. No security checkpoints. No passport required. Probably wouldn’t even have to show ID if they flashed enough cash.”

  “Would Becky have that much on her?”

  “I don’t know. She might if they were in the process of eloping. If not, that diamond ring of her grandmother’s she always wears would probably buy a small plane. And there are ATMs everywhere. She’s filthy rich, Sam. That’s why Jack chose her.”

  “You, my beautiful reporter, are a genius. I’ll get back to you.”

  She prayed that would be soon. She went to the little kitchen at the end of the hall and started a fresh pot of coffee. She was high on adrenaline and still scared through and through, but she needed the caffeine to keep her alert and her reasoning sharp, in case Jack or Becky called again.

  Jack Smith. He’d killed two women, then, afraid Trudy would connect him to the first victim, he tried to kill her, too. Caroline didn’t know how the second victim fit in.

  He might have been hitting on her, too. Or just stalking her and sending frightening notes. There was no way to know how many women he’d entangled in his web.

  But then he’d met Becky, and her money had been too much temptation to resist. Friendly, trusting Becky who’d probably never had an enemy in her life.

  “You’re working late tonight.”

  “You scared me,” she said, turning to find Ron standing in the doorway behind her. “I didn’t hear you walk up.”

  “These quiet shoes,” he said, lifting his right foot to show her the rubber sole. “What’s up with the Prentice Times’ prettiest reporter?”

  “Careful. After the day I’ve had, flattery may get you anything.”

  “I doubt that, but I’ll settle for a cup of that coffee you’re brewing.”

  She was happy to share the coffee, but far too nervous to sit and make small talk. The minutes were ticking away and all she could think about was Becky.

  “I talked to my friend today,” Ron said, “the one who used to live at Meyers Bickham. I told him about you.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That you’d lived there, too. That your mother hadn’t wanted you, either, that she’d just thrown you away with the morning trash.”

  She really couldn’t handle this conversation tonight. “I’d love to stay and talk, Ron, but I’m really busy. I have an article I need to finish writing.”

  “Did your detective friend find the guy who killed those two women?”

  Her detective friend. Was there no part of her life that wasn’t food for gossip around this office? “No arrests yet.”

  “Too bad. I hope they get him soon. If they don’t, he’s going to kill again. Men like that always do.”

  And she definitely didn’t want to think about that. She took her coffee and went back to her desk. She didn’t write any more of the article. Her nerves were too ragged for her to think.

  In fact, she’d had enough of the office. There was no reason to wait for Sam or one of his cop friends to pick her up. The killer was somewhere catching a plane. If she asked Ron, she was sure he’d give her a ride home.

  She straightened her desk, stuffed a few things in her briefcase and was just about to go looking for Ron when Sam called with the good news.

  “We got ’em.”

  She sucked in a shaky breath. “Is Becky all right?”

  “A little hysterical, but unharmed.”

  “Where were they?”

  “At a small airstrip in the northern part of Georgia, almost to Chattanooga. They’d booked a charter flight to Cancun.”

  The adrenaline rushed out of her and she went limp. “Thank God.”

  “And thanks to your quick thinking.”

  “You’d probably already thought of that, Sam. You’re just too nice not to give me credit.”

  “We’re a team. Detective and reporter.”

  “Who’d have ever thought that would happen? So is Jack in the hands of the police?”

  “Both Becky and Jack are in the hands of the state police and on their way back to Prentice.”

  “But Becky’s not under arrest?”

  “No. She’ll be released as soon at they get back to Prentice.”

  “Oh, Sam, I love you.”

  “Keep that thought until I see you.”

  “Will that be soon?”

  “Not for a few hours. I’ve got some paperwork that has to be taken care of. And I want to be here when they bring Jack in so that I can be the one to book him.”

  “What about Becky’s parents?”

  “Becky will be calling them from the trooper’s car. She’ll probably call you, too.”

  “I can’t wait to talk to her.”

  “Let me know when you’re through at the newspaper and I’ll have a patrolmen pick you up and give you a ride home.”

  “I’ll be here late. I gotta get cracking. The biggest news story of my short career just broke.”

  “Not so fast.”

  “Now what?”

  “We’re officially only holding Jack for questioning at this point.”

  “And then what? You’re not thinking of letting him go?”

  “No. I can hold him for twenty-four hours without an arrest, then if I don’t have enough evidence to arrest him on murder charges, I can jail him on a charge of attempted rape if Trudy will agree to press charges.”

  “I don’t believe this. You know he’s guilty.”

  “It’s the way the system works, Caroline. I do one thing wrong, and the guy will walk on a technicality.”

  “Well, I don’t like it.”

  “You change it then, babe. The pen is mightier than the sword.”

  Okay, so she couldn’t write that they had a suspect in the murder cases. She could at least write that a suspect had been taken in for questioning. And nothing could dim her relief over the fact that Becky was safe.

  And when Becky called a few minutes later, Caroline squealed in delight, so loud that the guys from the back who were getting ready to go to press came running out to see what was going on.

  It was a celebration. Becky was safe and heading home.

  IT WAS AN HOUR LATER when Caroline finished the article and took it to John. He read it over and for once had no suggestions on how she could make it better.

  “Great job.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Has anyone seen Ron around?” she asked. “I was going to see if he’d give me a ride home.”

  “Take my car,” John said. “I insist. Just leave it parked on the street in front of your house. I’ll get one of the guys to drive me by there when we leave.” He took his keys from his pocket, removed one from the ring and handed it to her. “Just punch the lock button when you get out and leave the key under the floor mat. It’s the valet key. I still have the all-purpose one on the key ring.”

  “Sure you don’t mind?”


  “Not after the two weeks you’ve put in. Go home and get some rest. You deserve it.”

  ELAINE MITCHELL awoke and looked at the clock. It was 12:55 a.m. She’d been waking up at all hours ever since Trudy’s accident, usually fighting to breathe. Tonight was different, thanks to the phone call she’d had a couple of hours ago from Detective Turner. The man who’d tried to kill Trudy was in custody. The nightmare was over. Her baby girl was safe.

  Only her baby girl wasn’t a baby. She was a very brave young woman. But it didn’t seem that long ago when they’d brought her home from the hospital for the very first time. She’d been such a tiny thing, had weighed less than six pounds. Lots of new mothers had bouts of depression after their babies were born, but she never had.

  Elaine and her husband, Brad, had tried to get pregnant for seven years before they’d finally been successful. Trudy was their miracle child. She still was.

  The house was quiet. Brad was snoring away in the bed beside her. Trudy was safe in her own room just down the hall. She should go back to sleep, but she couldn’t, not yet.

  Moving quietly, she rolled out of bed and tiptoed down the hall the way she’d done every night when Trudy was little.

  It had always made her feel better to stand in the doorway and watch Trudy’s easy breathing as she slept. That steady rise and fall of her chest had been Elaine’s reassurance that her baby girl was healthy and alive.

  Tonight Trudy’s door was closed. Elaine turned the knob and eased the door open. She didn’t want to wake Trudy, but it was her first night home from the hospital and she should make sure Trudy was sleeping peacefully.

  The bed was empty.

  She almost screamed, but forced herself to maintain a semblance of control. Nothing was wrong. Trudy was in the house. She’s gone to the bathroom. Or to get a snack from the kitchen. She might even be on the patio looking up at the stars the way she’d done the year she became fascinated with astronomy.

  But even while Elaine’s mind was forming safe scenarios, she was staring at the open window by Trudy’s bed. When she flicked on the light, she saw the blood.

  CAROLINE AWOKE to the sound of the doorbell. She looked at the clock. Ten minutes after one. It must be Sam, though she was surprised he hadn’t just used the key she’d given him. She didn’t bother to grab a robe, just crawled from between the sheets and padded down the hall in her bare feet.

  She looked through the peephole, her hand already on the doorknob. But the man standing outside her door wasn’t Sam.

  What could Ron want at this time of the night—unless there was something wrong with John’s car. Maybe she’d left the lights on and run the battery down. She just took it for granted that everyone’s lights were automatic these days and operated on a delay system. She hadn’t bothered to make certain they’d cut off.

  “Hold on a minute,” she called, then hurried back to the bedroom to get her robe. A minute later she released the safety chain and opened the door.

  “Did I goof up?”

  “Yes, you did, Caroline. Big time.” Ron stepped inside.

  “I left the key under the floor mat like John said.”

  “What?”

  “The key to John’s car. I left it under the floor mat, so I know that’s not the problem. Is he having trouble getting the car started?”

  “I’m not here about John’s car.”

  Something in Ron’s voice and the way he was staring at her sent a wave of apprehension zinging along her nerve endings. “If you’re not here about the car, why are you here?”

  “To see you. Were you expecting someone else? Someone like Sam Turner?”

  His voice was accusing. Her apprehension became dread. This wasn’t the nice, friendly guy she was used to talking to at the office. “Have you been drinking, Ron? Or smoking a joint?”

  “A little of both.”

  “It’s too late for you to be here. You need to go.”

  “But I’m not ready to leave. I was thinking you could put on that red dress you wore to my first party. I liked you in that. And wear those same shoes. They show off your legs.”

  The fear hit in waves now. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Could barely speak. “It was you, wasn’t it, Ron? You killed Sally Martin and Ruby Givens.”

  “I knew you’d understand about that, Caroline. We’re alike, you and me. We were both there, with the rats and the people who punished you even when you tried to be good.”

  Meyers Bickham. He was talking about the orphanage. “So it wasn’t your friend who lived there, it was you.”

  “Let’s go get the red dress, Caroline. We need to hurry. Trudy is waiting for us.”

  No. This was all wrong. Jack was the killer, not Ron. And Trudy didn’t even know Ron. She couldn’t be with him.

  “The dress, Caroline.”

  “You can’t do this, Ron. I just talked to Sam,” she lied. “He’s on his way here.”

  “All the more reason to hurry.”

  She saw the gun then. Dark gray, a little bigger than his hand. She started to run toward the stairs, but he was too fast for her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him.

  She caught only a glimpse of the butt of the gun as he came down with it, cracking it against her skull. And then she felt the warm gush of blood. The last words she heard were red dress, and then she started falling down the steep stairs, into the bottomless pit with the big gray rats.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sam was already on his way to the Mitchell house when he took the call from the cop who’d been patrolling the area.

  “That was fast,” Sam said.

  “I was only a couple of blocks away when I got the call.”

  “What’s it look like?”

  “An abduction.”

  “What did you find?”

  “The bedroom window appears to have been jimmied from the outside. My guess is it was done with a crowbar, but that’s just a prelim speculation. And there are fresh footprints going to the window and back again from a vacant lot next door.”

  “So the guy could have parked there and walked over.”

  “Yeah. Fresh tire tracks down the side of the lot closest to the Mitchells’. Vehicle probably bigger than a car. Could have been one of those vans or a light truck.”

  “May have to switch you to crime-scene details.”

  “Any time. As long as I don’t have to deal with the victim’s families.”

  “I’m sure they’re plenty upset.”

  “Mrs. Mitchell’s hysterical. Her husband is livid. Says he’d turned the house alarm off when he went out to walk the dog. He didn’t turn it on again after he got back. Blames it on you. Says you called and told them the guy threatening their daughter was in custody.”

  A mistake. Hopefully not fatal. But Jack Smith had admitted to running Trudy off the road. He was the one who’d threatened to kill her if she implicated him in the murders. With Jack in custody, she should have been safe.

  “One other thing,” the cop said.

  “Shoot.”

  “There was only one set of footprints, but it looked like the guy might have carried something for a while, then dragged it the rest of the way.”

  “Something like a body.”

  “That would be my guess.”

  “I’m three minutes away.”

  “Then you’re right behind Matt. He just walked in the front door.”

  Sam gunned the accelerator and took the next corner on two wheels. The Mitchells hadn’t wanted a cop on duty at their house. Mr. Mitchell was a hunter with a houseful of shotguns, and he’d insisted he could take care of his own.

  The department hadn’t told him that they were staking out the house, anyway. The stakeout had been called off just two hours ago.

  Until Sally Martin’s murder, Prentice had been such a peaceful town. The whole population couldn’t have turned deadly overnight. Somehow Trudy’s abduction was tied to the killer. A monster obsessed with Caroline.

&n
bsp; Sam called the newspaper office. The phone rang a half-dozen times before a man answered. Sam identified himself and asked to speak to Caroline.

  “She went home a little over an hour ago, Detective.”

  “How did she get there?”

  “She took my car. I told her I’d pick it up later.”

  “Thanks. I’ll call her at home.”

  He tried. After six long rings, the answering machine clicked on. Nothing to panic about. It was late. Caroline was probably asleep. But he couldn’t let go of his uneasiness.

  He called her again. She didn’t answer. Sam spun the car into a U-turn. Matt would just have to handle things at the Mitchells’ until he made sure Caroline was safe.

  “I DON’T LIKE IT down here. It’s scary,” Daphne said.

  Sara took her hand. “It’s not scary. It’s exciting. Like an adventure.”

  “As long as we don’t get caught,” Jessica said. “If we get caught out of our beds past lights-out, we’re going to be in big trouble.”

  “What was that noise?”

  “Probably a rat. They’re everywhere down here. But they’re as afraid of us as we are of them.” Sara was always the brave one.

  “Not as afraid as I am, I bet.”

  “We should talk them into letting us get a cat.”

  “Oh, sure, like they’d let us have a pet.”

  “I want to live with a family, instead of in this old ratty place,” Daphne said. “Then I could have a pet.”

  “But if you moved in with a family, you couldn’t be our best friend anymore, because you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Let’s play a game.”

  “What kind of game can we play with just a flashlight to see by?”

  “Let’s play I Wish.”

  “I wish I could go to Disney World,” Jessica said. “And live there in Cinderella’s castle. I love magic.”

  “But then you might have to kiss some creepy prince. Ugh!” Sara said.

  They giggled. This really wasn’t all that scary anymore, Daphne thought. It was fun. She liked having two best friends. “I wish I had a house and a big family with grandmothers and aunts and uncles and cousins and lots of people to play with, just like some of those people on TV.”