***
John Lee stifled a giggle. This was going to be so easy. His mark was headed toward the only vehicle left parked back by the entrance to the lot from the road. Maybe she’d thought her spot made for an easy exit at the end of the night when a lot of folks were leaving, or maybe she’d been a late arrival with few choices. Either way, she had a long walk to her car, and that made it a cakewalk for John Lee.
They were the only two customers in the parking lot when he sidled up to her in the space between two cars. “Not too safe to be out here on your own, sweetheart,” he said. He kept his tone nice and friendly, not wanting to spook her into running. Someone might see. “Can I walk you to your car?”
She turned, startled to see him so close. But she was drunk; her judgment wasn’t so good.
She waved a hand, tottering a little as a result. “No, that’s okay. I’m just over there. I always park there ’cuz there’s lotsa light.”
It was true there was a big light pole at that end of the lot, but John Lee had no intention of letting his prey get that far. “Oh, good idea. Well, my car is just right here, so how about I walk in the same direction?” He pointed to distract her, took the two steps necessary to get within range, then grabbed her and hit her with the injector. He kept his hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t make any noise, and she struggled for a bit, but it didn’t take long. Between the drugs and the booze she was out cold in seconds.
John Lee chuckled, pocketing the injector. This is some good shit! He made a mental note to tell his contact he needed to stock up.
But now there were people coming out of the bar, laughing and lighting up cigarettes and weaving their way to their cars. Shit! He put his arm around his unconscious “girlfriend’s” ribcage, kept his head down, and staggered to his truck. He’d done this any number of times, and no one ever paid any attention. If anyone asked, he was always prepared to say his companion had had too much to drink. No one ever asked.
He made it to his truck, opened the passenger door and lifted her inside. He was just tucking her legs up into the cab when he heard something behind him.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Oh, this was just too perfect! It was that bitch Sara, like maybe God just hand-delivered her. Well, there was sure no reason he couldn’t show up with two fresh ones tonight. Only this one he’d have a little fun with first. He fingered the injector in his pocket.
“What does it look like?” he answered, standing sideways in the truck’s door, keeping his right side (and his “lady friend”) hidden. “I’m taking the young lady home. She’s had a sight too much to drink.”
Sara craned her neck to see beyond him into the truck. He blocked her view as best he could. He wanted to just reach out and grab the interfering bitch, but there were too many people around them. And she was smart; she stood just out of reach.
“More like you knocked her out in the parking lot. She’s passed out cold.”
John Lee took a quick look around. There’s no way the bitch could have seen anything. He’d been careful to hide what he was doing, even when the woman had struggled.
Attitude, that’s what was needed. “What the fuck are you talking about? She asked me for a ride home. Can I help it if she can’t hold her liquor? I’m the freakin’ hero here.”
“I saw you in the parking lot,” Sara said, her hands on her hips. “You’re talking, then by the time I get here she’s all passed out. Seems funny to me.”
That was it—the last straw! He was done taking shit from this fucking bitch! The parking lot was clear again, so he didn’t hold back. He had to grab her before he could use the injector, so he took his hand out of his pocket and lunged at her. He went for her throat, for the chokehold. Show her who’s boss! Slap her around then give her the dope.
But it didn’t work out like he’d planned. The blades of her hands intercepted him before he reached her throat and threw his arms to each side. Her knee shoved his balls up into his belly. Then she pulled his head into that same knee with enough force to break his fucking nose. He slumped against the truck, dazed and bleeding. Then—the bitch was unbelievable!—she tried to reach around him and take his mark! Oh, hell no!
He staggered to his feet, pulled Sara off his mark and threw her to the ground. Then he slammed the passenger door, limped around to the driver’s side and started up the truck. As he scratched out of the parking lot, he could see Sara running inside the bar. Well, fuck that! By the time that limp-dick deputy sheriff was after him, he’d be halfway up Devils Holler Road to meet his contact. He ignored the little voice inside him that warned this was trouble, big trouble. After all, shit, he had truck payments to make. And if he showed up empty-handed tonight he’d have bigger problems than a Mingo County deputy sheriff sniffing around.
John Lee shifted in his seat to ease his aching balls and took the Ford up to a dangerous 55 around the hairpin curves of Devils Mountain. His turnoff couldn’t come soon enough.
***
Sara rolled to protect her face from the gravel flying out from under the truck’s tires as John Lee shot out of the parking lot. She looked up just in time to see which way he turned on 52, then got to her feet and stumbled back toward the bar. She didn’t think she was hurt, really, just a little shook up. It was mostly adrenaline that was making her shake so hard she could barely open the door and get inside. Sure it was.
She was headed straight to Jace McCoy, but the boss got to her first. “What the hell? I’ve got customers banging their tables for a drink and you’re out in the parking lot getting it on in somebody’s car?” Pigface looked her up and down. “You’re a fucking mess!”
“Look, you know what? I ain’t got time for your foolishness right now.” She brushed past him. “I need to see the Deputy Sheriff.”
He grabbed her arm. “Missy, you always got time for me. I’m your employer!”
She snatched her arm back. “Not anymore I’m not. I quit! And for your information, I was just assaulted in your parking lot, which accounts for my appearance. I’m thinking of suing.”
That shut him up.
By this time, Jace had figured something was wrong. He separated himself from the clump of men who were clapping him on the shoulder (his reward for settling the earlier dispute, she guessed) and met her halfway.
“What happened?” Concern furrowed his brows. “Are you hurt?”
“No. No, I’m okay. But we need to leave. Right now. John Lee Davis has a woman passed out in his truck, and God knows what he plans on doing to her.”
“John Lee . . .” Jace’s expression registered confusion for the merest second. Then surprise and finally determination played out on his face. “Wait. Start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”
“I was just about to come back inside when I saw John Lee sneak up behind this woman in the parking lot. I’d seen her in the bar earlier—she was drunk as a skunk and had no business going out there alone in the first place. So I thought I’d go and make sure everything was okay. I didn’t see what happened, but by the time I got around the side of the building he was putting her in his truck, and she was completely passed out. He put her in the passenger side, and she was just slumped over, out of it. So I asked him what he was doing. And he went for my throat!”
The memory of it made her shake all over again, but Jace’s reaction turned her heart to ice. His jaw clenched tight and those blue eyes went dark as the December sky outside.
Jace grasped her upper arms tight. “He hurt you?”
Sara shook her head. “No, I took care of him. Gave him a shot to the balls, then a knee to his head. I think I broke his nose—there was sure enough blood!”
Jace smiled, but his grip on her arms relaxed only a little. “That’s my girl.”
“Anyway,” she went on, “then I tried to get the girl out of his truck, but she was too heavy. John Lee threw me on the ground and took off. He’s probably halfway to Kentucky by now.”
“No, he’s too stupi
d for that. He’s probably headed straight home.” Jace looked at her, pushed a stray hair off her forehead with gentle fingers. “You sure you’re okay? You shouldn’t have confronted him, you know. It was dangerous.”
Now that she thought about it, she guessed it was. But the thought of the poor girl with that creep John Lee . . .
She stood up straight. “I’m fine.”
He pulled her in close for a long minute. “Come on. You need a drink, and I need to ask Rick a question.”
“But we need to go! We’re wasting time!”
“It’ll just take a second. No sense in going off half-cocked.” He took her by the hand and led her to a stool in front of the bar. She was grateful for the seat. Her knees kept wanting to collapse under her.
“Rick, get her a shot of JB and a beer.”
“Ugh! You know I don’t drink that stuff.”
“You do tonight. Settle your nerves.”
The bartender set her up, and with Jace urging her sternly to drink, she downed the burning liquid. Flames roared down her throat to her stomach, but it did seem to have a calming effect on her racing mind. She swallowed a mouthful of beer to kill the taste.
“What the hell happened?” Rick knew she never drank whiskey.
Jace held up a hand to keep her from saying too much. She kept quiet and let the lawman ask his questions.
“You see that redhead down at the end of the bar tonight?”
Rick nodded. “Yeah, she’s in here sometimes.”
“Know her name? Where she lives?”
“She in trouble?”
Jace just looked at him. Sara thought she wouldn’t want to be on the other end of that look.
Rick gave it up. “Name’s Lydia. Sibley, I think—no, Shipley. Husband died in a mining accident a coupla years ago over at Welch. Don’t know where she lives.”
“Any kids? Family?”
“No, don’t think so. Leastwise, she never seems to talk about anybody. No pictures or anything.”
“Fits the profile,” Jace murmured.
“What?” Sara couldn’t sit here another minute. “You want to run an investigation now? We have to go, Jace!”
He turned to her. “First of all, if I was to do something you wouldn’t be going anywhere. You would be staying right here out of harm’s way. Second, as a Mingo County deputy I’m out of my jurisdiction here in Logan County. And third, we have no real evidence John Lee abducted Lydia. For all we know, she did ask him to drive her home. If I pull up at his house and find her, that’s something different, but I still might be in hot water if things are consensual. My own boss . . .” He shook his head and stopped talking.
Sara waited a second, but he didn’t seem inclined to go on. “Well, as long as we’re counting—first, Mr. Smarty Pants, we are doing something about this and you can forget about leaving me here. And second, what about my assault? I want to press charges.”
“Then we’d have to call the Logan County sheriff. You’d have to make a report and I’d have to serve as a witness. We’d be here all night.” He raised his eyebrows—a question.
“No, that’s not what I want and you know it. We need to help Lydia.” She slid off the stool. “Come on.”
He stood in front of her, arms crossed over his chest, as immovable as the mountain under their feet. “Fine. But I can’t take you with me. It’s too dangerous.”
Despite the fact she’d just tussled with the man, she just couldn’t think of John Lee as truly dangerous. Creepy, yes. Mean as a snake. And liable to take advantage of that poor, drunk woman. But capable of standing up to a fully armed and angry Jace McCoy? She didn’t think so.
Sara lifted her chin. “If you don’t take me with you, I’m likely to follow you on my own and get in all kinds of trouble. Then what?”
“Why are you so set on this? Just let me—”
“Do your job? Or were you going to say ‘handle it’?” Her hands curled into fists. “I’ve got a score to settle with John Lee Davis. I won’t feel right until I do. As a McCoy you should understand the impulse. So let me be a part of this.”
He grinned, losing some of his grim demeanor. “Please tell me we’re not related.”
She started for the door. “Are you coming or not?”
***
Sara Pressley had about the hardest head of any woman Jace had ever known. She didn’t belong chasing this criminal up Devils Holler in the middle of the night. John Lee Davis might not look like much, but if he was the one responsible for all those files on his desk and who knows how many others in surrounding counties, he was one murderous sonofabitch. The thought of him laying hands on Sara had Jace in his own killing mood.
They climbed in his Jeep and roared out of the parking lot, speeding north on U.S. Route 52, the direction Sara had seen John Lee take. “He’s headed for Devils Holler,” Jace said.
“His family’s old homeplace?” Sara shook her head. “The house is falling apart. No one’s lived up there for years.”
“He moved a trailer in last spring, remember?” Now I know why. Damn it!
Sara groaned. “Lord, how could I forget that? He was after me for weeks to ‘visit.’”
“Well, John Lee’s about to discover there are disadvantages to living in a place where everybody knows your business.” Jace’s hands gripped the steering wheel. “I may have been slow on the uptake, but I’ve got him now.”
“What are you talking about?” She turned in her seat to stare at him. “What are you not telling me?”
He opened his mouth to deny it—now was not the time for long explanations—but she held up a hand to forestall him. “Don’t even try. I can read you like a book, Jace McCoy. All this about John Lee being dangerous? Really? And you were already loaded for bear when you came in tonight. Tell me what’s going on.”
He took a deep breath and blew it out again. “People have been disappearing around here for a good two years. I’ve got a stack of unsolved cases on my desk, most of ’em prostitutes or drunks or drifters who’ve left an unpaid motel bill. My boss says I’m crazy to even look at them twice, says they’ve moved on and good riddance.” He stopped, shook his head.
“But you have a feeling.”
“Yeah. And it’s not a good one. There are too many of these reports—fourteen so far just in Mingo County—and now this. Right under our noses.”
“You think John Lee is doing it?” Her voice went up an octave. “Killing them?”
He looked at her and saw, finally, the recognition that she might be in over her head. His heart contracted. He should never have agreed to bring her.
“I don’t know whether to hope it’s him or pray that it isn’t.” He nodded at a turn-off up ahead. “We’ll find out soon enough. There’s the road up the holler.”
“But what if it is him? Shouldn’t you call for backup or something?”
He almost laughed. He was so far out of his jurisdiction he might as well be in New York City trying to make an arrest. None of his missing persons listed Logan County as a last known address; he had no witnesses leading him here. All of this was pure gut instinct based on the similarities of MO and victim. Possible victim, he reminded himself.
He made the turn onto Devils Holler Road, where the pavement quickly gave way to gravel. “I’m just going to observe the situation. If he has Lydia, I’ll call it in to the Logan County boys, then stall him by having a little talk. You’ll stay in the Jeep.”
“If he has Lydia?” Sara’s eyes were round with horror.
He would’ve reached out to her, but the old road was too rough; he needed both hands on the wheel. “I just meant he could have taken her home like he said he was going to. He hasn’t had time to . . . do anything.”
Sara hung on to the strap over her door while the Jeep bounced and rolled on the rutted track. “John Lee had no intention of taking that woman home. Trust me on that.”
For several moments the space inside the SUV became both silent and intimate as they made thei
r way through a patch of dense woods. Vines and young trees encroached into the road, slowing their progress, and it was impossible to see anything beyond the arc of their headlights. It was as if there was no one else in the world but the two of them.
Sara put a hand on his shoulder. “Can’t tell you how many times I dreamed of being out in the woods with you.” When he glanced over, he saw she was smiling. “Never dreamed it would be like this.”
He had to shift to adjust jeans that had grown uncomfortably tight. “For two cents I’d stop this Jeep right here.”
Her hand caressed the back of his neck and withdrew. “Another time.” She pointed up ahead, where the woods thinned out on the left side of the road. “We’re coming up on the Davis farm.”
On the left the land sloped gently upward toward a ramshackle two-story farmhouse at the corner of an open field of corn stubble. The farmhouse had been there for generations, Jace knew, all the way back to the Hatfields of feud fame. Some even said Devil Anse Hatfield himself had built the first cabin on the land. A corn crib made of logs still stood next to the barn, but that wasn’t an unusual sight in these hills.
The road ran straight as a plowed furrow between the field and the woods until it passed the house, then it wound up the holler to the top of the ridge. Since they’d be visible with the field on their left, Jace killed his headlights and rolled as quietly as he could past the homestead. The big house was dark and quiet, clearly abandoned. John Lee had done nothing to improve it. A big pole light shone in the driveway between the old house, the barn and outbuildings, and the new single-wide trailer John Lee had installed.
Jace let out a curse. “His truck’s not there.”
“He had plenty of time to get here.” Sara peered through the windshield at the jumble of farm buildings. “There’s a light on in the trailer. Maybe he pulled the truck into the barn?”
Baby, it's Cold in Space: Eight Science Fiction Romances Page 24
