by Debra Webb
Her heart jolted at the idea of his being hurt in any way. If Lester had learned her new address…if he was watching…
“I’ve been waiting.”
Darby barely clamped her hand over her mouth to trap the squeal that lodged in her throat.
Aidan stepped from the dark shadows in the far corner of the room. “Sorry,” he offered. “I thought you knew I was here.”
Now how would she have known? Instead of asking, she tamped down her annoyance and headed toward the side door.
“Guess not,” he murmured as he cut in front of her to be the first out the door.
That would have annoyed her as well if she hadn’t known the move had been made to protect her.
In the dark alley, he took her hand and walked quickly toward the end that opened into the street where he’d parked his car. Once he had ensured the coast was clear, they covered the three blocks in no time. Darby felt the power of his muscular body as he pushed quickly forward with hardly any effort. She, on the other hand, had worked hard to keep up with him.
In the car, he asked, “Where are we going?”
She thought about that for a moment. Remembered the last time she’d been there when she’d led the police to his hideout. “Back to the water—to the swamp. He likes it there.”
He pushed the gearshift into position and rolled away from the curb. “Is this the same place where the police found him before?”
She nodded. “That’s where we need to go…only deeper into the bayou. I know they’re there. Hidden away so no one can find them.” A new kind of fear eddied through her as another frightening possibility zoomed to the forefront of her thoughts. “I hadn’t even considered that he might be hanging around there somewhere.”
“He won’t risk getting too close.”
Aidan made the statement with such certainty. She wondered how he could be so sure.
Before she could question his conclusion, he said, “The police will have crawled all over the place. Probably still have a team watching the same way they’re watching you.”
She hadn’t thought of that either.
Seems she hadn’t thought of much.
Hurry.
The urgency nudged her again. It didn’t matter what the police or Lester did or didn’t do. She had to do this. There wasn’t a choice.
Forty-five long, gut-wrenching minutes passed with the anticipation and urgency mounting in Darby before they reached the small town where they would be required to leave land behind. The water forked around the small fishing village, leading deep into the swamps…to where they needed to go.
“Park there.” She directed him to a small lot where tourists converged to venture out into the swamp. “They keep the boats in the back.” Real Cajun Guides, a sign boasted. She got out of the car, not waiting for Aidan to come around and open her door.
He looked at her across the top of the car, the sliver of moon providing barely enough light to make out his features in the gloomy darkness.
“So we’re going to steal one,” he suggested. She didn’t miss the note of amusement hiding just beneath the surface of his skepticism.
“No, Agent Tanner,” she said sweetly, “we’re going to borrow one.”
Aidan did smile then, couldn’t hold it back any longer. She definitely had the determination one would expect in an Enforcer. She had the talents he’d expected as well. Disuse and lack of training had rendered them unreliable. But they were there just the same.
He walked cautiously toward the looming metal building, its siding rusty with age. A place of business would surely have some sort of security system.
When he rounded the corner, he crossed paths with the security on duty.
A low growl emanated from the big dog, its breed not readily identifiable but its intent crystal clear.
“Steady, boy,” he said softly. Security patrolled with similar animals at Center, but Aidan rarely encountered one without its handler. Yet he felt no fear. He knew techniques to disable the animal without doing permanent damage if the need arose. “Have you made this animal’s acquaintance before?” he asked of his companion, careful to keep his voice low and nonthreatening.
“Here you go, fella,” Darby murmured to the dog.
Sniffing, the dog cocked his head to one side and moved closer to her. She held out what appeared to be a large bone of suspect origin. The dog latched on to it and loped away to ensure privacy while he devoured it. Well, that answered his question plainly enough. Obviously she had encountered the animal previously which was why she’d known to bring a treat.
“He was here before,” she said when her gaze collided with his. “He gave the police a hard time until his owner took him inside.”
Aidan nodded. He could definitely imagine that very scenario.
“This way.”
Against his better judgment, he allowed her to lead. Her stealth surprised him. He wondered just how good she would be had she been subjected to the same training as him. Quite good, he estimated.
She surveyed the offerings a moment before pointing to what looked to be a ten-foot pirogue. The long, slender vessel was similar to a canoe but more efficiently designed. The pirogue rocked as they climbed aboard. She tossed her backpack on a pile of crawfish nets. He removed the loop of rope that anchored it to the dock at the same time that she reached for the push-pole.
With a succinct shake of his head, he took it from her. She surrendered without argument and pointed south. He pushed away from the dock, the sinuous feel of the boat sliding soundlessly through the black water.
The voices had drawn her here. Though he couldn’t hear them, he sensed her urgency. Felt her desperate need to find the remains of Lester’s victims.
Like Aidan, she had a mission. To see that those children made it home.
Unfamiliar emotions welled inside him as he considered how much she was willing to risk.
Her willingness to sacrifice was what had brought her here…would cost her more than she imagined if he learned she was hiding the truth.
He surveyed the dark primordial world that lay before them. Lester wanted to hurt her. Aidan could feel his hatred, his desire for vengeance in the heavy air. He’d passed this way…not long ago.
But Jerry Lester was inconsequential in the scheme of things.
He was already dead. He just didn’t know it yet.
Chapter Nine
Darby could only hope that the big old ham bone she’d found frozen in the freezer held no sentimental value for her friend. Knowing her friend’s penchant for fifteen-bean soup, Darby assumed she’d been saving it for making soup. But she couldn’t be sure. In any event, she had been gone for six months, had six to go. Who wanted a ham bone that old in their soup?
Lacking any real culinary talent, Darby could only pray that ham bones didn’t age the same way wine did. Thankfully, her distraction had worked; the watchdog had taken the bait.
She scanned the bank on either side of the dark, inky water. Not that she could see much. The moon was scarcely a sliver in the black velvet canvas of the sky. But she’d been here before, knew that rickety shacks on stilts dotted the shore here and there. Rusty metal boathouses rose up from the water like swamp monsters. Shrimp boats and other smaller vessels sat as still as stone upon the glassy surface. The folks who lived here represented a different breed. Some were good, hardworking types who never bothered anyone and who had simply chosen a simpler way of life. Others were barely a cut above criminals, poachers and the like, thriving in the world where alligators ruled.
The waterway branched off again and again. Each time she gestured vaguely, Aidan somehow seemed to know what she meant, even in the consuming darkness.
A gauzy white mist drifted like smoke on the water’s surface, winding through the gnarled, moss-laden cypress trees. The chirps and trill of insects and the song of frogs filtered through the night. The air was heavy with scents, some sweet, some definitely not.
The swamp was in reality a place o
f natural beauty. During the day or on a night blessed by a full moon, one would see great blue herons and tall, slender egrets as they fished along the bank. One might also see other wild animals such as snakes, turtles, raccoons, black bears, red wolves, deer and exotic birds.
And then there were the ever-present alligators. More than 500,000, according to the latest statistics. The thought had no more flickered through her mind than right next to the pirogue she sensed the distinct ripple through the water of one of the primitive creatures. She shuddered.
A whoosh of energy went through her and she knew they were getting close.
Close to that simple rectangular cabin where Lester had held the children. The bastard had taunted them, had allowed them to go without food and water until they’d pleaded with him, done anything he’d asked for a mere sip of water.
Thank God he hadn’t sexually abused any of them. Lester’s problem wasn’t about sex; it was about power. The children belonged to him, were his possessions. With his twisted personality and bizarre perception of life, the chance of having any of his own was, thankfully, nil. He’d become obsessed with other people’s children, had probably thought he could make them his own weird kind of family. His need to rule had gotten out of control with little Christina Fairgate and she’d ended up dead. Like the others…out there somewhere calling to Darby.
But she knew what the shrinks who’d evaluated him the few days he’d stayed in jail hadn’t uncovered just yet. Lester’s problem went way back—he was trying hard to make a family be what he thought it should be. The extreme measures he’d been willing to go to in order to accomplish that end spoke volumes about his past. Maybe he’d been abused in some way as a child.
She shoved aside the theories. Regardless of what had or hadn’t happened in his past, he was a damned psycho who didn’t deserve to live. He’d been playing at this serial killer thing for years without getting caught. It wasn’t until he’d gone into the “escalating” phase that he’d screwed up. All that time, he’d done his hunting far away from his home territory. Impatience had spawned sloppiness and he’d started seeking his prey right in his own backyard. And Darby had picked up on his presence. When he took a child close to her, it had been the final push her heightened senses had needed.
The pirogue rounded a turn in the waterway and the rickety old cabin came into view. Positioned a couple feet off the ground to protect against flooding, it looked ready to collapse. A stovepipe stuck up from the roof, jaunted at an odd angle. Pots and pots of blooming flowers overflowed on every available surface.
Dread pooled in Darby’s stomach. She felt sick, repulsed by the place. Though she knew it was just a house, that the evil had come from the man, not the place. Still, seeing his lair again made her want to heave. The police should have burned it to the ground…but it was evidence. Yellow crime scene tape was draped haphazardly around the perimeter of the structure.
But it hadn’t stopped him from crossing that line.
He’d been here.
She knew—felt it all the way to her bones.
She closed her eyes and listened for the voices that would lead her.
The instant the pirogue bumped into the lopsided dock, she stood. The boat bobbed, making her stomach dip.
“Wait.”
Aidan set the push-pole aside and tied off the boat.
Darby didn’t want to wait. She wanted to find them. Good sense screamed at her to wait until daylight. But she didn’t need the light…she had the voices. They would lead her. The urge felt stronger than ever before. So powerful. So consuming. She couldn’t not do this.
How could she have possessed this kind of…gift…all this time and not known the full extent of it?
Because you hadn’t wanted to see. You refused to look.
The pull was more than she could bear. She couldn’t wait.
Bracing her foot against the decaying wood, she pulled herself up onto the dock. Aidan reached for her, keeping her steady when she would have swayed.
He held her back when she started for the house. He didn’t speak but he was scanning the area, as if he suspected someone or something was out there.
Where were the police, she suddenly wondered? Aidan was right. They should be here.
He was here.
The realization hit her with enough force to rock her. Aidan’s strong arm steadied her.
“He’s here,” she murmured, her heart stalling in her chest.
“I know.”
She opened her mouth to ask how he could know but he started moving forward, propelling her alongside him.
The night sounds amplified, pressing in around her. Her imagination she told herself—not real.
She thought about Bigfoot and all the old pirate stories she’d heard. Even the ones about some parts of the bayou being cursed by a voodoo queen. Foolish. Just stories passed down from generation to generation. Stories where fact and legend collided.
Then she thought about the gossip that bodies of previous residents were buried in unmarked graves throughout the swamp. She imagined there was some truth to that one.
But the children…they didn’t belong here.
She had to make sure they were found.
At the rear corner of the cabin, Aidan detained her once more, bent down and pulled a small handgun from an ankle holster. She blinked, stunned that she hadn’t considered before that an FBI agent would carry a gun. He seemed so capable without one.
Moving on autopilot now, she didn’t resist when he ushered her behind him before rounding the corner.
At first, she didn’t see the body sprawled in the thick grasses. But something, a raccoon maybe, scurried away from where the man lay.
Darby’s heart rushed into her throat, sticking there like a tennis ball.
Aidan crouched down, his attention divided between their surroundings and the body on the ground. He checked for a pulse and shook his head. She exhaled a shaky breath, forcing her heart back into her chest where it started to pound frantically.
He reached into the man’s pocket and pulled out an ID. Cop. Detective. NOPD.
Aidan’s head came up. His posture stiffened ever so slightly, but Darby noticed. She felt it, too—the subtle shift in the atmosphere. The sudden silence of the nocturnal creatures. Dead silence.
He came here for something.
The rush of the epiphany shook her.
Aidan’s gaze collided with hers, as if he understood what she’d just experienced.
Impossible.
“He’s waiting for something,” she whispered.
“There would be more than one officer on duty at a stakeout like this,” Aidan commented, his full attention focused on the encroaching trees and the eerie stillness.
While she still turned over this newest information, Aidan was suddenly next to her, tugging her toward that ominous tree line. She wanted to ask him what he thought he was doing. But she knew from his brutal grasp and relentless pace that there was no time for questions. Whatever he’d seen or heard, she hadn’t sensed it. Hadn’t experienced any warning of danger.
Her so-called extra sense was unreliable. Dammit.
A welcome surge of reckless anger solidified her determination.
She would make it work. She’d done it before with Madam Talia’s help. She’d gotten this far on her own tonight.
The need to close her eyes and focus was very nearly overwhelming, but how could she do that with Aidan dragging her through the woods?
Her boot snagged on a root. She pitched forward but Aidan caught her. Righted her and kept pushing forward.
She wanted to ask him where the hell they were going, but she didn’t dare speak.
Safety.
The word slammed into her brain like a speeding bullet.
Safety. He was taking her to safety.
She tried to rationalize that explanation, but considering the thickening canopy of trees overhead and the mushy ground beneath their feet, she couldn’t reconcile the two. He
wasn’t from here…didn’t understand the danger.
Bears…wolves…snakes…not to mention quicksand.
The swamp was many things, but safe didn’t rate high on that list.
Then she heard it.
The squish of waterlogged soil behind them. The brush of foliage against man-made fabric to the far right. Her head jerked left as a twig snapped in that direction.
Fear hijacked her courage and sent the sting of adrenaline soaring through her veins.
Cops?
That was her first thought. Maybe they thought she and Aidan were Lester and…
No.
Not cops.
Whoever had fanned out around them were not the good guys.
Evil.
Not Lester, either. He’d only come back here to see after his interests…the children.
She ran faster, staying right on Aidan’s heels.
She smelled the water before he stalled on the bank.
The odor of decaying fish and foliage was stronger the closer they got.
He yanked her against his chest and whispered in her ear. “We’re going into the water. Try not to make any more sound than necessary. They may have night vision and thermal imaging. We don’t need to give them any other ammunition.”
Everything he’d said after water was lost on her.
They couldn’t go into the water.
It teemed with nature’s handiwork…with danger.
As if reading her mind, he shoved the gun into his waistband at the small of his back and lifted her off her feet. She bit down on her lower lip to stem a gasp. He brought her against his chest and started forward.
She felt him descending into the water but incredibly he made no sound.
How could he do that?
In less than a minute, she felt the cold liquid swishing against her bottom. He was waist-deep in the water and moving forward without the slightest sound.
Despite the physical exertion required to carry her one-hundred-ten pound frame and trudge through water at that depth his respiration was slow, even. His heartbeat strong and steady. It didn’t flutter like hers. She stared at the handsome face only inches from hers. A new kind of trepidation trickled through her.
