by Robin Mahle
Kate glanced inside to see Burgess still waiting for the coffees. She had only a moment to make her choice. She leapt into the driver’s seat of the running patrol car and yanked the gearshift into reverse. With tires spinning, she saw Burgess turn and begin to charge toward the door, but there was no time to wait or to explain. If she didn’t trail, he would be lost to them.
Making it onto the road, Kate drove in darkness—no headlights. She couldn’t risk Durham knowing he was being followed. But she’d caught up to him. His old Chevy pickup truck rumbled ahead of her. A call immediately came over the radio.
“Kate, what the hell are you doing?” It was Burgess.
She picked up the receiver. “I’m sorry. It’s him. I have to follow him.”
“What? No. Let me call it in. We can get help.” His voice was elevated in panic.
“There’s no time, Mike. I have to keep on him or he’ll get away. I’ll be fine for right now and, as soon as he stops, I’ll radio you with our location.”
“Shit.” A short pause. “All right. But as soon as he stops, call it in.”
“I will.” Kate replaced the receiver in its cradle. She believed for a moment that he would insist she stop, but she was no longer a civilian going rogue. Kate needed to remind herself that she was a highly trained federal agent here to do a job. It seemed Burgess realized that too and didn’t presume to circumvent her decision.
Kate continued to trail along the darkened road, suspecting that she’d remained undetected as Durham hadn’t attempted to veer away. Her whereabouts, though, were unclear. All that lay ahead seemed to be more dark roads. Where was he going?
The team was heading her way, but undoubtedly still out of reach. Kate was on her own, following the Blackwater Killer.
A few more miles of straight single-lane roads. No traffic was coming from the opposite side and so wherever he was headed had to be sparsely populated. He began to slow. Kate fell back and waited. He made a right turn. It was a narrow street, lined with trees that she could just make out in the shadows. No street lights.
Finally, he’d made a left and stopped. She hung back a half of a block, hoping he hadn’t seen her. His headlights flicked off and a dim light inside the cab of the truck illuminated. Durham was stepping out. He was parked in front of a house, but she had no idea if this was in the same neighborhood of where his family home burned down. He circled to examine the area and stopped in her general direction.
“Shit.” Kate had almost forgotten to breathe, believing that he’d seen her, but he continued on. Confident he’d gone inside the home, she slowly rolled forward until reaching the house next door. Kate immediately grabbed her cell phone to get a location and radio it in. “Are you kidding me?” The top of the screen showed no bars. Without a signal, she picked up the radio. “Mike, I’m in a neighborhood.” Her eyes surveyed her surroundings. “I have no idea where. I checked my cell, but I don’t have a signal to get GPS.”
He answered immediately. “What’s around you?”
“Tall trees. The houses are old, maybe from the fifties or sixties. I’m east from where you are, but I don’t know how far.”
“I can track the vehicle. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll send some units to back you up.”
“I’m going in,” Kate insisted.
“Please, wait for backup.”
“I have no idea if anyone is in that home, Mike. I can’t risk him killing someone. Just find me and get me some backup.” She dropped the radio receiver and slowly got out of the car. The cabin light illuminated like a beacon. “Damn it.” Kate got out as quickly and quietly as possible, gently closing the door to extinguish the light.
With her hand on her sidearm, she cautiously approached the door of the home. No lights were visible from this vantage point, but she had to assume he’d gone inside. There were no sounds, except her own heightened breath. In the darkness, she could see no evidence of forced entry. No broken glass, no damage to the front door. It was possible that he’d gone around the back to enter the home. But she feared occupants were inside and tried the front door in the event people around here didn’t feel it necessary to lock them. Her relief that her assumption had been correct quickly diminished as she proceeded to push the door open. Her throat turned dry and her heart beat rapidly.
With hands guiding her through the room, her vision had been compromised by darkness. Any sound she made might mean the end of someone’s life—maybe even her own—so she advanced with discretion. A hallway was on the left with a small night light that lit up a bathroom at the hall’s end. Still, there were no sounds. Was the house empty? Was he hiding and waiting for her? Kate moved again, her gun pointed directly ahead of her. She heard a moan, like someone whose mouth had been gagged. Her movements ceased in an instant and her hands gripped her weapon with white-knuckled strength. She turned in the direction of the noise. A closed bedroom door was on her left. That was where it came from.
“FBI. Identify yourself.” Her voice carried easily through the cramped corridor. If anyone was in this house, they would have been alerted to her presence. He was inside. He had to be.
“FBI. Identify yourself.” Again, she waited until finally…
“Help me,” the voice cried.
With her gun still at the ready, she pushed open the door, using it to shield her as much as possible until what was inside had been revealed. Standing in front of a window, holding an elderly woman down on her knees—there he was—a gun pointed at her temple.
“Drop the weapon, now!” Her voice raised and echoed firmly inside the room. She was a good shot, but in this dark room, if he refused, a clean shot would be tenuous. He had the upper hand.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked.
“Zachariah Durham.” Kate watched as his shadowy figure came into focus.
“Very good. I didn’t think you people would figure that out so quickly. A loud clap erupted. He had pulled the trigger and the woman dropped to the floor.
Kate instantly returned fire. The spark of ignited gunpowder momentarily lit up his face and she knew she’d struck him. But as the woman fell, he lunged toward her. Wherever her bullet had struck, it hadn’t been enough to stop him and he tackled her to the ground.
“You can’t kill me. It won’t let you.”
EIGHTEEN
A gust of wind scattered the fallen leaves from the ground as the chopper descended in front of the sheriff’s office. Deputy Burgess stood just outside the entrance, shielding his eyes from the lights and blowing debris. The blades slowed to a halt and a door opened. Agent Scarborough was the first to emerge and he wasted no time making his way toward Burgess. A close second was Agent Jameson and, finally, Agent Myers.
“Deputy Burgess?” Nick extended his hand. “I’m Special Agent Scarborough.” He turned to Dwight. “This is Agent Jameson and Agent Myers.”
“Pleasure.” Burgess returned the greetings. “Please, come inside.” He pushed open the glass door and led the way to his office. “We’re still trying to locate Agent Reid.” Burgess turned a shoulder, but continued on. “Has she made contact with you?”
Nick came to an immediate halt. “I’m sorry? What are you talking about? You’re trying to locate her?” His face masked with alarm. “I thought she was here with you.”
Burgess furrowed his brow. “No. We were on our way to take a look at Durham’s childhood home and we stopped briefly. I went inside a coffee shop and was placing an order when Agent Reid spotted the suspect’s vehicle. Agent Scarborough, she went after him.”
Nick reached for his cell phone.
“I’m sorry. She called me on the radio. There’s no signal out there. I thought she would have reached out to you while she was in pursuit. I tried to convince her to wait for backup, but when the suspect pulled up to a home, she went inside after him.”
Nick pushed his hand through his hair. “Damn it. Where the hell is she?”
“We’re still trying to locate the vehicle through our
GPS. I just returned myself and I was heading to see if we’d made progress.”
“Why would it take this long to get her position?” Dwight asked.
“We recently installed a new software system and not all of the vehicles had been updated. Unfortunately, mine was one that hadn’t been.”
“Where’s the sheriff?” Nick asked, turning his head in every direction. “I need to find my agent now.”
“The situation has obviously escalated quickly over the course of the past couple of hours. Sheriff Conroy has been getting updates from state police and myself. I informed him of the situation and he is coming in now from a meeting with the governor.”
“Where’s the tech who’s working on finding Agent Reid?” Nick asked.
“Follow me.” Burgess carry on along the corridor to the elevator. “They’re on the second floor.” On arrival upstairs, he led the way to an open area—a bullpen—where his techs were positioned. “Where are we at on locating my patrol car?” He approached one of the officers.
“The system will be updated in a matter of minutes. We’ll be able to see it shortly thereafter.”
“You mentioned the two of you were driving out to Durham’s childhood home,” Nick began. “Why? What’s out there?”
“Agent Reid figured out that Durham’s sister attended the middle school that was shown on Ariel Nadal’s clothing. And after she’d sent the information to one of your other agents, an Agent Vasquez, I believe, she discovered that the facial markers between her and the suspect were the same. We then began to search through our archived files and discovered that the man who we believe to be the suspect, Zachariah Durham, survived a fire that killed his family. He was ten.”
“That’s how you discovered his actual identity.” Myers shook her head. “Agent Reid contacted me and asked that I revisit my original profile and go over this new information in hopes of locating the suspect. Apparently, she didn’t need me to do that.”
“I got it!” The officer whipped his chair around to Burgess. “She’s at 637 Marlin Street.”
Burgess revealed a dire look. “That’s almost thirty minutes from here.”
“You stay here,” Nick said to Georgia. “Dwight and I will go get her.”
Georgia stepped aside while they walked on. “Agent Scarborough.”
Nick stopped and turned back.
“You mentioned on the way over that you found three other victims based on the contents Durham had in the containers in his shed.”
“That’s right.”
“Given what we know now, and that he appears to be growing desperate for escape, please keep in mind that if Agent Reid hasn’t taken him down, he won’t care that she’s a federal agent. At this point, he won’t care about his own life.”
Nick studied Georgia’s eyes, knowing that she would never risk another agent’s life or mislead them in any way. “Thank you.”
“I’d like to come with you.” Burgess started toward them. “This is still my town. You need a car and I can get you there faster.”
Nick turned to Dwight, who gave a nod of approval. “All right. Let’s go.” He pushed through the exit and headed toward the helicopter pilot. “I’ll need air support. We’ve got an agent in danger.”
“I’ll stay on you.” The pilot waited for the agents to clear before firing up the blades.
» » »
Kate was pinned beneath him. His shoulder trickled blood down his arm and onto her body. The gun was pointed between her eyes and Kate trusted that this wasn’t going to end well for her. She was losing the fight, and after fighting for the past few years, maybe she was ready to call it quits. She’d come in here fearing he’d take the life of whomever was inside this house and he did. And she was powerless to help the old woman. “Who was that woman to you?” Her words struggled to materialize as she squirmed beneath him. “She didn’t deserve to die.”
Durham glanced back momentarily and then returned his attention to Kate. “She was my first foster parent. Not a very good one either.”
“I’m sorry you lost your family in that fire.” Kate noticed his eyes flinch just for a minute. “I lost some people who I loved very much.”
“Is this supposed to be FBI psychology 101?” Durham smiled and shook his head. “Don’t pretend you know anything, you stupid bitch. I’m the one with the gun pointed at your head, not the other way around.”
“You’re right about that, but don’t for one second think that I’m afraid of you. I’m not one of those young women you pretended was your sister. What did she do to you anyway?” Her eyes locked onto his. Even in the darkness, she could see he hadn’t expected this. Her words came as a surprise to her as well.
“Don’t you worry about that. She got what she deserved and so did those other girls. Just like you’re about to.”
“Is this you talking? What did you mean by ‘it won’t let you?’ Who’s ‘it?’” Her tone grew firm and she had no idea where this strength was coming from, but was grateful for its manifestation.
“I could shoot you right in your pretty little head, bitch, so I’d keep my mouth shut if I were you.”
“You think you’re the only one who’s ever threatened me?” Kate smiled. “You think I haven’t faced death before? What you don’t realize is, if you kill me, they won’t stop until they kill you. There’ll be no judge and no jury.”
A faint sound, deep and throbbing, began to arise from a far off place. Kate shifted her eyes toward the window. She recognized the rumbling noise. “They’re already here.”
Durham turned in the direction of the window and that was when she struck. Kate raised her knee and slammed it into his back. He swung in return toward her with a face twisted in pain. She reached for the gun that was no longer pointed at her head, but could still do damage if she couldn’t seize it from him. It wasn’t long before he regained his breath and realized Kate had her hands wrapped around the gun, working to pry it from his fingers. Her right knee raised and struck him again.
This time, Durham took to his feet with powerful strength in his legs, rising as if propelled by an unknown force. Kate flipped to her side as he tried to flee, taking hold of his leg and he came crashing down again and dropped his gun. She held on as tightly as she could, but her arms tingled from the weight of his knees placed upon them for too long. Her fingers began to slip from his torn jeans until he broke free.
The helicopter sounded much closer now and Kate began to hear the rumbling of a car’s engine too. But he was going to get away and she had to stop him. She scrambled to her feet, lunging toward the gun that he’d bolted over without attempting to grab. His fear of capture led him to make the grave mistake of not retrieving it and so Kate seized the unexpected opportunity.
With her weapon back in proper hands, and his secured in her waist, she pushed to her feet and sprinted after him. The noises grew louder, the blades slicing through the air and sirens screaming down the quiet street. They had to be only seconds away, but that might still be too late.
Kate raced out the back door and spotted him leaping over a fence and into another yard. She followed him, jumping over the wooden slats. Snagging her shirt, she yanked it off the splintered wood and pressed on. He was just ahead, taking flight over yet another fence. His face turned back toward her and she could have sworn he was smiling, his white teeth shining in the dark, clenched tightly.
Behind the housing development lay a marshy river that flowed from the larger Saint Marys. She had to get to him before he reached it; otherwise, the search would become nearly impossible, allowing Durham not only the cover of darkness but also cover in the terrain over which he was likely a good navigator. He could not have the upper hand.
She was fit and she could keep up with him, but a sharp pain was nagging at her side and worsening. When she slowed for a moment, Kate realized that a cut was oozing blood. It must have happened when the shirt was snagged. Don’t let him get away. He was gaining ground on her. It was then that Kate kn
ew she had to turn back. All was not yet lost and she knew the helicopter could continue the search, shining a light, refusing to let him hide in the tall grasses and cypress that covered the area.
Turning back, she pressed her hand against the wound and made her way back to the house, climbing over the fences more slowly this time, until she returned. Shouting could be heard up ahead. They must have been inside by now and might be calling for her, but she couldn’t discern the words, or the voices.
The final crawl over the fence and she was in the backyard again. She called out to make her presence known and to ensure there would be no confusion as to her identity. The back door that had remained open was now consumed by a shadow of someone she immediately recognized.
“Kate?” the voice bellowed.
“It’s me. I’m okay.” She appeared through the darkness and into the reflection of the light that had been switched on inside the home. “He got away. I tried to chase him, but…” She removed her hand that was now covered in blood. “I couldn’t keep up.”
“Jesus, Kate.” Nick reached out for her hand and cast his eyes to the wound. “Get inside.” He followed behind her into the kitchen where Dwight and Deputy Burgess had arrived. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“No. I’m fine.” Kate peered beyond the back door, until closing her eyes at the knowledge that he’d slipped away. “We can still go after him, Nick. I saw the helicopter. We have to get in there and look for him before it’s too late.”
“She’s right,” Dwight replied. “If he’s out there, we can find him. We can’t afford to let him slip through our fingers.”
Nick looked to his colleagues and nodded. “Okay. Burgess, you stay here with Kate and secure the scene.”
“I don’t think so.” She slowly pushed off the chair. “I’m not staying here. I just fended off that son of a bitch. I know what he’s capable of and I’m sure as hell not going take a back seat on this.”
