Darkest Night--A Romantic Thriller

by Tara Thomas

  She explained the situation to Brent, who just nodded in agreement. She told him he could go in, but he said there was no way in hell that he’d leave her alone in the car, gun or no gun. No matter how many times she told him she could take care of herself, he wouldn’t change his mind.

  “I’m going to send a quick text to Tilly. Let her know we’re out here in case she has a free second.”

  She sent the text, not expecting an answer anytime soon. The club looked crowded tonight, so Tilly probably wouldn’t get much of a break.

  Brent pulled the car around to the side street she’d found Charlie on days before. It still hurt to think about him.

  After he parked the car, Brent reached for her and she silently moved into the shelter of his arms. She didn’t cry. She’d done enough of that lately, but she soaked up the warmth and comfort Brent offered. He’d known it’d be hard for her to be on this street and it meant the world that he wanted to ease that for her.

  “Tell me what we’re looking for,” he said, pulling her mind away from Charlie and back to the reason they were there.

  “In one of the early cases, we found grainy security footage of a man who appeared to be loitering around the area a woman was taken less than twenty-four hours later. We’re thinking he’s a Caucasian male, six feet two or three. Not sure of eye or hair color.”

  Nothing moved on the street. Even the wind was still. The streetlights dispelled some of the darkness, but there were still several places a person could hide. From her seat in the car, she tried to peer into them, uncover their secrets. The windows were up and the inside of the car was getting warm. Maybe it’d been stupid to come out tonight. What made tonight special anyway? Who was to say the man would strike tonight and not last night or tomorrow?

  But, she told herself, if nothing else, maybe Tilly would be able to break free for a few minutes and she could tell her friend good-bye.

  “Who’s that?”

  The alarm in Brent’s voice took her by surprise. Her head shot up and she looked to where he pointed. Her breath caught.

  Someone was running down the street. She couldn’t make out who it was, but she thought it was a woman. Whoever it was looked over her shoulder and fell forward, tripping over something.

  Brent opened his door. “Stay in the car.”

  But her door was already open and she had her gun in her hand. “The hell I will.”

  He shook his head, but didn’t say anything else about her staying behind. “Be careful, please.”

  She double-checked her gun and resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but this is my job. Follow me and you be careful.”

  They inched their way toward the woman at the end of the street, who’d made it back to her feet. She wasn’t running anymore, but stumbled toward them. Janie kept waiting for someone to jump out run around the corner. Her nerves were shot, but she fought it, forcing her body to do what it’d been trained to do, refusing to give into the fear.

  “Janie!” the woman called out.

  “Tilly!” Janie sprinted forward and motioned with her hand for Brent to hurry. “It’s Tilly.”

  Janie made it to her friend and threw her arms around her. Tilly was still obviously frightened, her breathing was heavy and she kept looking around.

  Janie took her face between her hands and forced her to look at her. “What happened? Tell me everything.” A quick look at Brent confirmed he was keeping watch.

  “Do we want to go back to the car?” he asked.

  Tilly nodded, so Janie agreed. If it made Tilly feel better, she would do it. Besides, the car would give some semblance of cover. Tilly had twisted her ankle quite badly and couldn’t walk fast, but she turned down Brent’s offer to carry her to the car. Instead, they hobbled, baby step by baby step, back to the car.

  They moved as quickly as possible. Janie kept her gun drawn and both she and Brent kept looking around to make sure they were alone.

  Janie wasn’t sure what time Tilly had left the club, but it was a given she would have been missed. Would they send someone to look for her? She offered Tilly her phone and asked if she needed to call the manager on duty, but she said she’d call later.

  They made it to the car and settled Tilly in the backseat. Janie crawled in to sit beside her. Brent kept silent watch from the driver’s seat.

  Tilly took a deep breath and started talking. “I told the boss that I needed to step outside for a minute, that a friend was bringing me something I’d forgot and needed for my class tomorrow. He told me he’d give me ten minutes.” She paused for a minute, struggling to compose herself.

  Janie put her arm around her. “Take your time.”

  “I made it to the end of the street and someone came up beside me.” She shivered. “Oh god. It was him, wasn’t it?”

  “I don’t know.” It didn’t make sense. So far, all of the missing women had been Caucasian. Most of them didn’t have close family members. “Did he say anything?”

  “Not right away. He was just there, you know? I started walking faster and he did, too. I came to the corner and he laughed and said, ‘Run, bitch. I’ll give you a head start.’ I looked over to him and … and…”

  Janie put her hand on Tilly’s knee and took a handful of tissues that Brent passed to the backseat. “It’s okay. You’re safe. Take your time.”

  Tilly blew her nose. “He had a knife. I didn’t even think. I just ran. I knew you were this way.”

  “He didn’t follow you around the corner, though,” Janie said.

  “Did you say anything about meeting us?” Brent asked.

  Tilly shook her head. “No, I didn’t say anything to him. I knew you were here and if I could just turn that corner”—she took a shuddering breath—“I’d be okay.”

  As far as Janie knew, no one so far had had known direct contact with the suspect and lived to tell about it. Why would he let Tilly go?

  “He knew we were here,” Janie said, sick with fear. “He wanted you to find us.”

  Tilly looked up in shock. “What? Why?”

  “Fuck,” Brent said, obviously coming to the same conclusion as Janie.

  “What’s wrong?” Tilly asked, looking from Janie to Brent.

  “He was never going to do anything to you,” Janie explained. “He just wanted to keep us occupied. Damn it.”

  She felt sick, knowing that tomorrow morning a new photo of a young woman would be flashed on the TV. A girl who had been snatched out from under their noses. Whoever was taking the girls was on to them, had studied them, knew their moves, and anticipated the ones they hadn’t made yet. It was all a chess game to him and he’d just called “check.”

  But it wasn’t checkmate. Not yet. Not by a long shot.

  “Someone should probably go into the club and see if anyone’s missing. He may still be out there.” Brent started the car up and inched toward the end of the street.

  “I’ll go in,” Janie said. “The manager knows I’m a cop. Maybe he doesn’t know I’m off the case. Then, I can find out if anyone’s missing and let him know that Tilly was attacked and won’t be back tonight.”

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy. Yes, the manager knew she was a cop, but someone, Martin, if she had to guess, had already informed the club that Janie was off the case. He refused to talk to her.

  Janie punched his desk, hard enough to knock over a cup of pens. “Look. You’re wasting time. Just tell me if anyone else left after Tilly. That’s all I need to know and I’ll get out of your office and your club forever. You don’t ever have to see me again. But tell me. Please.”

  The manager crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not telling you anything. I was told you’re not on the case and I was to send any information I had to Officer Martin.”

  “One of your employees at this very moment could be in the hands of a serial kidnapper and killer. Are you just going to sit there and let her go?”

  “No, he’s not.” Martin’s voice c
ame from the doorway.

  Shit.

  With a feeling of dread, she turned to find Martin and Alyssa standing just outside the half-closed office door. Martin looked angry as hell. Alyssa, on the other hand, appeared as if she wanted to crawl under the table.

  “Officer Roberts, you’re fired.” Martin marched into the room. “Don’t say another word to me and leave the premises or I’ll arrest you for interfering in an active investigation.”

  Janie had always been told to pick her battles carefully. To know which mountains were worth dying on. She realized in that second, it was more than just that. Her job was a mountain she would die on, but the timing wasn’t right.

  She wasn’t going to give up that easy, but she was smart enough to know that if someone was missing, that woman’s life was more important than Janie’s job. She walked past Martin and mouthed, Call me, to Alyssa. Her friend nodded and mouthed back, Sorry.

  The smell hit her as she closed the door. Mint and cedar. She froze, looking around. She’s smelled the same scent the night of the altercation between the stranger and Charlie.

  * * *

  The man they were looking for was here. Or had been recently. Her body pulsed with excitement. She was going to bring this bastard down.

  She reached up to knock on the door, but stopped herself. Would anyone really listen to her now? Especially about a smell she thought might be related to the case? No, it’d only piss Martin off more, and he and Alyssa needed to get moving if they stood any chance of catching this guy.

  She forced herself to leave the club and tried to ignore the feeling of defeat. Had she accomplished anything tonight, other than getting herself fired? She’d been played by a madman and all she had to show for it was a smell that probably didn’t mean anything.

  Brent waited for her in the car. He had wanted to come in with her, but Tilly had stayed behind and Janie knew she wasn’t in the frame of mind to be alone just yet. She got into the car and said only, “Let’s go. Tilly can stay with me tonight.”

  Later, she would tell Brent she’d been fired. Later, she would try to remember where she’d smelled that odd sent before. Later, she’d see if there was anything she could do to get her job back.

  Right now, she wanted ice cream and bed. The rest of the world could wait.

  But she found she couldn’t relax enough to eat or enjoy the ice cream. Over and over, images of the missing girls filled her mind. Girls who would no longer eat ice cream.

  * * *

  The call came right at five in the afternoon, just like it did almost every Friday. His hands trembled as he answered.

  “Hello?” He wondered if the new package had been received and accepted. He certainly hoped so. If it wasn’t, he didn’t know what he’d do. He thought it had been awfully smart of him to keep the cop and her lover busy while he waited for the real target. It made him giddy just thinking about it. Damn, when he was good, he was good.

  “Nice job on the last delivery,” The Gentleman said, and he let himself relax a tiny bit.

  “Thank you, sir.” He couldn’t keep the smile from his voice. This last one had been nice and hearty. She should last for a long time.

  “Unfortunately, that’s the only good news I have for you.”

  His elation left. He closed his eyes and waited for the rest.

  “In case you were unaware, the Charleston PD removed their plant from the club and placed her on suspension.”

  “Yes, sir.” Of course he knew that. He’d found out it happened the night he took the shot at her. He’d wanted to laugh when he heard, but he hadn’t been in a position to show how he felt. Besides, that’s how he was able to concoct his brilliant plan to obtain the package.

  “Officially, there’s no one working the club, but you and I both know better, don’t we?”

  “Yes, sir.” He knew exactly who was working the club now. Unofficially, of course.

  “I made certain Officer Roberts was released from her duties.”

  “You got her fired?” He hadn’t heard that.

  “I can do anything I want.”

  He felt the sweat start to trickle down his back. He had a bad feeling about where this conversation was going. “Yes, sir. I know. I just didn’t know you wanted her fired.”

  “I want more than for the plant to be fired.”

  He gripped the phone tighter, knowing what was coming and praying he was wrong.

  “I want her for my collection and you’re going to get her for me, aren’t you?”

  His whole body shook. Before, with the other girls, he could do what he had to because he was able to distance himself from the situation. They were a means to an end, that was all.

  But he wouldn’t be able to do that with Janie. There was no way and The Gentleman knew it, too. He should refuse. Take his passport and head out of the country. The dirt The Gentleman had on him wasn’t worth this.

  He wiped his hands on his pants. “Yes, sir. I’ll get her for you.” He spoke the words, but inside he thought, There is no way in hell I’m doing that. In his mind he was already packed and on a plane.

  “Good, that’s what I want to hear.” He paused for a second. “Oh, and just in case you’re thinking about trying anything, I sent you a picture. Look at it.”

  Looking at a picture The Gentleman sent was the very last thing he wanted to do, but he opened the message anyway. It took him a few seconds before he realized what he was looking at. It was a candid picture of his girlfriend, walking down the street and talking on her phone.

  “Call it insurance,” the voice he hated more than anything said. “And just so you know, a sniper friend of mine took that picture. Someone’s going to die. You get to decide if it’s the ex-plant or your woman.”

  He swallowed, his body going clammy at his words. He was going to have to do it, he didn’t have a choice.

  “Do I make myself clear?” The Gentleman asked.

  “Yes, sir,” he whispered. “Very.”

  “Excellent. I’m feeling a bit generous. You have two weeks.”

  He wasn’t able to answer before the phone went dead.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THREE DAYS LATER

  Janie scurried around the apartment, trying to get everything in order. Brent was bringing his sister over for dinner. She couldn’t wait to meet the woman Brent cared so much about and shared so much of his life with. From the things he’d told her, she felt as if she already knew her.

  Even better, Bea was apparently some sort of high-powered attorney and when Brent mentioned Janie getting fired, she indicated she’d like to have a chat with Janie to see if there was anything she could do. Janie didn’t have the heart to tell Brent she couldn’t afford his sister, so she’d gone along with it. The initial appointment was always free anyway, right?

  At least at the end of the night she’d know if she had a case.

  She tried not to think about how close they’d come to catching the guy. Maybe if they had, she would still have her job. But thinking that made her feel guilty and selfish because, as she’d feared, when she turned on the news the morning after they went to the club, it was there.

  The headshot of the latest young girl who’d gone missing. Apparently, after Tilly didn’t return, the manager had sent one of the waitresses, Robyn, out to look for her. She shook her head. What she wouldn’t give to get her hands around the manager’s throat or Martin’s. Someone. What was he thinking letting Robyn go out by herself? Especially, when the first girl who left didn’t come back.

  The kidnapper had been hiding, waiting for her. No one knew if he had specifically wanted Robyn or if he just took her because she was the one who’d been sent after Tilly. Robyn fit most of the profile, but unlike the others, she had a family. A family who had already posted a substantial reward for Robyn’s return. So far, they had no leads.

  Alyssa had been by once. She’d hugged her and told her she was sorry and if there was anything she could do to let her know. Janie almost brought
up the minty cedar smell, but talked herself out of it. They’d chitchatted about men and insignificant things. While it felt good to talk about nothing specific, Janie was getting restless. If the talk with Bea didn’t work out, she’d have to look into getting another job. Any job. She was going stir crazy in her apartment. She was a cop. It was who she was.

  Brent had been a light in the darkness the last few days. Even dropping a few hints about her coming with him to Washington. She hadn’t taken the bait just yet. But it was starting to sound better and better.

  Her doorbell rang, interrupting her thoughts.

  Ever since the knocker on Brent’s door, she’d been obsessively careful. She peeked out the window and saw a deliveryman holding a long rectangular box.

  Every horror movie she ever saw ran through her head.

  Yeah, I’m stupid enough to fall for that one.

  “What company are you with?” she asked through the door. He’d tell her and she’d call to make sure it was a legit delivery. Those chicks in the horror movies should follow her lead.

  “Lady, please. I just want to deliver these flowers.”

  “Either tell me or leave them at the door.”

  She heard him say something about not having time for this and how no one told him he’d have to deal with wackos. But he eventually propped the box against a wall and left.

  She was waiting for him to get in his van and leave so she could open the door, when her kitchen timer went off, alerting her the lasagna was ready.

  After taking it from the oven to cool and putting a peach pie in to cook, she looked around. Everything was in place. The table was set. Food was ready. Brent was bringing the wine.

  She stopped by her bathroom to check her hair and makeup. On a whim, she redid her lipstick and grinned at herself in the mirror to make sure there wasn’t any on her teeth.

  The doorbell rang again and a quick glance at the clock told her it was probably Brent and Bea.