Touching Evil

by Kylie Brant

The darkness in the trunk reflected Lucy’s thoughts. She’d known that when the car had stopped it meant her best chance to attract attention. But then the driver had turned around. Sped away.

  She could spend all day spinning rosy scenarios about the reasons for the offender’s abrupt change of direction. But she didn’t hear any sirens in the distance so she didn’t kid herself that help was anywhere in the vicinity. And they were on gravel again. She could tell by the steady ping of rocks hitting the undercarriage of the car. By the dust that filtered in the cracks of the trunk and caused her to wheeze. Gravel roads in the state were like a rabbit warren. Obviously plotted according to some grand design evident only to county engineers and the farmers that traversed them regularly. And he was driving fast. The roads weren’t maintained with the regularity of blacktop. She was bounced and jostled as he hit potholes and ruts, one time banging her head on the top of the trunk with enough force to see stars.

  Lucy gritted her teeth. Squeezed her eyes shut to keep out the dust. Yet another thing the freak would pay for. His debt was mounting.

  She wondered about Gavin then, and a vise clutched her heart. The image of him lying on her kitchen floor with the lifeblood leaking from him was too vivid. Branded on her mind. So instead she deliberately sought another mental picture of him. One that evoked better memories. Of Connerly, lazily leaning against her desk, or the stainless steel counter in the autopsy suite. Of her running her fingers through his straight blonde hair that he kept only inches shorter than hers, once he released it from the thong he usually pulled it back with. Of the way his pale green eyes could light with amusement. Narrow with annoyance.

  And he’d been annoyed the last time she’d seen him. He must have wakened shortly after she’d dressed and slipped out of his room. And then, true to form, chased her through the night, unwilling to let her circumvent their conversation so easily. A more stubborn man she may never have met.

  And that stubbornness just might have gotten him killed.

  The vehicle slowed, turned sharply. Lucy was thrown to the side. Righted herself with effort. Her back was sore from its constant contact with the imperfections in the roads. But she forgot the aches when another realization occurred.

  They were coming to a stop again.

  Immediately she tried to yell, but her voice was dry and raspy with the dust she’d swallowed. Instead she began to kick her feet as hard as she could against the sides of the trunk. She’d managed to get the zip ties off them prior to the first stop so her feet were free.

  She only hoped she’d have a chance to use them.

  There was the sound of gravel crunching. Then the lid of the trunk popped open with a suddenness that had her ducking away from the bright sunlight. “You’ve been very bad.” The man reached in and hooked his hand in the bonds securing her hands and yanked her out of the trunk.

  Before she could get her legs under her he dealt her a ringing slap that had her ears ringing. She ducked his next blow so it caught her in the shoulder instead. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I was just trying to get your attention.” She kept her head down in what she hoped looked like a cowed position. All the while surreptitiously studying the area where they’d stopped with her peripheral vision. “I have to go to the bathroom. I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”

  She started to struggle to her feet, thought better of it. If he hadn’t yet noticed that her ankles were no longer bound, there was no reason to bring it to his attention. “I understand.” The hand in her hair, on her throat seemed almost caressing. Recalling that each victim they’d found had suffered a broken neck, she shuddered in revulsion.

  “Lessons can be hard. But the sooner you learn to be quiet, the happier both of us will be.” Because her head was still bowed, she didn’t see his fist coming until it was too late. The blow caught her in the side of the jaw and sent her sprawling.

  She was still disoriented when he dragged her to her feet again. “See what you made me do? I don’t like violence. I really don’t. But believe me, these lessons are a lot easier than the ones my mommy used to teach me.”

  His mommy? What brand of crazy was this twisted pervert? “I understand now. I really do.”

  “Do you?” His hand came down to brush the hair away from her face. “Do you really?”

  “Better than you think.” She surged to her feet, driving both bound fists upward as she rose. Caught him in the crotch hidden behind the baggy skirt. His fingers tightened in her hair as he doubled over. She aimed a vicious kick at his thigh. When he gave a high-pitched keening scream she followed up by driving her fists upward toward his nose.

  Blood spurted, but she was still caught securely. “Fuck you fuck you little bitch little fucking cunt. I’ll kill you now I’ll fucking kill you.” His right hand was twisted in her hair. She saw the gun in the right pocket of the sagging sweater and grabbed at it as he was trying to disentangle his fingers to draw out the weapon.

  Her fingers were numb from the tightness of the bonds. She touched the grip of the weapon before her hands were knocked away. She threw herself from one side to the other, kicking and fighting, wincing in pain as strands of hair were ripped from her head during her struggles He tried to push her away so he could draw the gun. She went for it again. Got it out of his pocket. Dropped it.

  Giving her a violent shove, he bent awkwardly to pick up the weapon. Lucy sprang to her feet and ran toward him, kicking the weapon out of his reach and then used the heel of her foot to kick at the thigh he seemed to be favoring. The man screamed again, dropped to one knee. And then she kept on running.

  Stumbling as she weaved and dodged, she traced a zigzag pattern that only a fool would believe could thwart a bullet. At any second she expected to hear one whiz past her ear. Feel it spear through her body.

  She sprinted across the farmyard, behind a rusty machine shed. Nearly wept when she saw that the field fencing didn’t border the farm property. Likely the farmer had left it open for easy access of the equipment.

  Now it just meant freedom.

  Lucy didn’t look back. She didn’t want to know if the offender was gaining on her. She didn’t want to see the weapon aimed in her direction, knowing that any moment a bullet was going to slam into her body the way it had Gavin’s. Fear lent her feet wings and she curved and angled back and forth across the uneven soil, trampling the beans growing there without compunction.

  And while she mentally prepared to die, she thought of the man she’d left bleeding out on her kitchen floor.

  * * * *

  “We’re doing a grid search of the properties in the five section area where we think he might be holed up. Got lucky, and found the owners home on all of them so far. I’ve got the team spread out, poring over every acre.” Cam spoke tersely into the phone as he retraced his steps to the vehicle. Gonzalez necessarily wanted to be updated, but right now her call was a distraction he could ill afford. He’d had nothing to report on the four places he’d checked so far. And he could feel time rapidly running out.

  But apprising the SAC of every development was necessary to keep the resources flowing. The massive manhunt underway represented a substantial financial cost to the state. The Air Wing support alone was a major ticket item. So he’d play by the rules even while he chafed at the need for them.

  “Nothing to report from the road team.” He’d opened his email on Sophie’s iPad and now studied the plat directory Feinstein had sent him. “He hasn’t tried to cross the river again. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t plan to.” He listened for a moment and made a sound of agreement. “If he’s here, we’ll find him. I’ll keep you updated.”

  When he hung up Sophie was using an app tool to highlight spots on the roads and properties delineated on the screen. “We’ve cleared these homesteads,” she said with tracing four highlighted areas. “These other spots I’ve colored indicate those checked by your agents so far.”

  Cam bent closer to study the map. The agents were spread out and working inward. Pressing in on
Baxter, hopefully, unless he’d somehow managed to slip by them again. Franks and Robbins had been given the wooded spots closer to the river. Although it would be impossible to cover the dense woods, all they had to do was find the vehicle for the direction of the manhunt to change.

  “We have two other homesteads on this road before we hit this gravel intersection.” Sophie traced her finger on the road delineated on the screen. “We’ll have to decide then whether to continue on this road or start on the east west one.”

  Cam started the vehicle. “We’ve got time to decide.” By then it would be time for another update from his team and they’d reassess. He was heading out of the farm driveway when he received another radio call. He stopped again. Picked up the receiver.

  “Prescott.”

  He could hear the roar of the Air Wing pilot’s motor in the background. “I’ve got a visual of someone running through a field, headed north. I’m going to circle the property, drop down a bit closer. I’ll let you know if I sight a vehicle.”

  Sophie clutched his arm. Even without her reaction, a burst of adrenaline surged through his veins. “What are your coordinates?”

  The man quoted his longitude and latitude positioning and Sophie used the tool to mark an X on the screen to delineate the spot. Cam stared hard at it. “That’s about four miles from here. I’ll head over that way.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Gravel spewed behind him as he turned out of the drive. Threw a hard grin at Sophie. “I guess we decided to go west at the intersection.”

  Her gaze met his. She’d forgotten to put in the brown contacts this morning, he realized. Maybe, just maybe, the need for the disguise was soon coming to an end. “If it’s Lucy the pilot saw, it means she got away. She’s still standing.”

  “If it’s Lucy,” he cautioned. He barely slowed at the next corner before taking it wide and picking up speed. “But it still leaves a big question. What the hell happened to Baxter?”

  Chapter 15

  Sonny doubled over, pressing his hands to his ears. A million angry bees were droning in his head, the din making it impossible to think. Only one voice could be heard. The same one that always cut through the noise with blade-like precision. You fuck up. What a disappointment. Can’t you fucking do anything right?

  “I’ll kill you again,” he mumbled to the voice. “I’ll bury you this time, too. You’ll never come back. Not ever.” But when his gaze raised to the direction Lucy had run, the voice faded away, to be replaced with rage.

  This was the police’s fault. Fucking roadblocks. Lucy had been fine, just fine in the trunk. Another few lessons and she would have learned to be so sweet. So understanding. They could have explored death together and she’d begin to see, Sonny knew she would, exactly what drew him to the dead. They would have made a perfect combination.

  And now he had nothing.

  He picked up the weapon and struggled to his feet. The little bitch had landed a hard kick at his wounded thigh. He could feel wetness clinging to the jeans he had rolled up under the skirt and knew the injury had reopened. He had to tend to it. Get patched up and think about what to do next.

  Turning to look at the property, he was struck by how much it had changed since he’d first seen it. Gone were the apple trees the owner, Gladys Stewart had been so proud of. No more apple pie to offer Sonny when he stopped here on his route. No more chatting over coffee later, which she’d insisted he needed to thaw out from the cold delivery truck.

  Unconsciously he headed toward the back door of the tidy single story ranch. It had been years since he’d seen Gladys. He hadn’t known how much he missed her until this moment. He crossed the yard. Climbed the two concrete steps to the door and opened the screen. The bump key was still in his pocket. He used it now and walked into the back entry.

  Past melded with present in a disjointed abstract. He wiped his feet on the mat that was still there. Gladys always had insisted on that, in that kind way of hers. Sonny walked past the mudroom and laundry area, took a right through the kitchen and stopped when he saw her.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  He frowned. It wasn’t Gladys at all. It was Mommy standing in the living room, belting a robe around her waist. Gladys never had that mean in her voice. Gladys was always sweet and kind.

  “Did you hear me? Why didn’t you call? You know you’re not supposed to be here.”

  Sonny stayed very still. It helped manage the noise in his head. Mommy approached him. Circling like an irritated jungle cat.

  “I’m in trouble. My Lucy…” A sudden sense of loss hit him then, and he stifled a sob. Brought his free hand up to wipe at tears that suddenly blinded him.

  “What’s loose? What the hell is wrong with you?” Mommy gave him a hard shove on the shoulder. “You need to man up before you ruin everything. I’ve told you a million times not to come here for a while. I’ll call you with your instructions. Or come to your place.”

  “I don’t like you in my house,” he muttered. Her image planted there, popping up when he least expected it, superimposed on the counter while he poured a glass of water. On the ceiling before he closed his eyes to sleep. “Stay out of my house.”

  She gave a bark of laughter. “Same goes, asswipe. Listen, you need money? I’ll give you more. But you have to go home, lay low until I contact you again. Police are all over the place after finding those bodies you ditched.”

  Desolation howled through him. His special place. Gone. Like Janice was gone. Lucy. Everything he’d worked for, everything that had been his… All gone. And the reason, the reason for everything bad in his life was standing right in front of him.

  “That’s not my fault.” He raised his hand, pointed the gun at her. “It’s yours. I’ve lost everything and it’s your fault! You should never have come back, Mommy. You should never have made me kill you again.”

  * * * *

  “I’ve got a visual on the vehicle matching the description you gave.” The pilot’s voice was calm as he read off the coordinates.

  “Almost there. Thanks.”

  “Let me know if you need anything else. Out.”

  Cam immediately put a call out to his team. “All vehicles to the following address.” He read off the road address and the coordinates. “We’ve got a positive ID on Connerly’s vehicle there.”

  The radio burst with voices of the other agents as they gave their current location and approximate arrival times. They’d been close to the center of the grid they’d been working, so no one should be more than a few miles away.

  Jenna’s voice sounded. “Cam, I’ve got a positive ID on the woman the pilot saw. It’s Lucy. We’re picking her up.”

  Sophia made a soft sound beside him. Cam glanced over to see her hands clasped at her lips. And wondered if she was thinking of her own harrowing escape from Vance, only days earlier. “Good.” He gave her the coordinates of the property a half-mile up the road. “I’m calling all vehicles in. Connerly’s car has been ID’d in the drive. If Baxter isn’t there now, he hasn’t been gone long.”

  “Don’t start without me.”

  Now that the end game was about to begin, Cam could feel a cold calm descending over him. “I’m not making any promises.”

  * * * *

  Mommy threw her hands up. “Whoa, calm down. Have you been taking your meds? We both need to keep a clear head.” She kept circling, circling. Sonny had to turn, too, to keep her in his sights. “You’ve been such good help.” Her voice went low and soothing. Not like Mommy’s at all. “You’ve done everything I asked. You take good care of Mommy. Best boy in the world, that’s you.”

  “I’m tired,” he whispered. He felt bone weary. Sad. Defeated. “I can’t cross the river. We were going to Lucy’s special place but I can’t get by the roadblocks. How am I going to get west if I can’t pass the roadblocks?”

  “Roadblocks?” Mommy’s voice had sharpened again. “Are they looking for you? And you brought them to me? What the fu
ck were you thinking?”

  He ducked, as if dodging the expected blow that would have accompanied the words in his childhood. Disappointing mommy meant he always had to pay. And pay and pay and pay.

  “I want to see Gladys. I miss Gladys.”

  “Jesus, you freak.” She yanked him to a stop with a hand bunched in his sweater when he would have gone in search of his friend. “This was your gig. You set it up and man, it was a beauty. Gladys might not be around anymore, but the cash rent payments on her four hundred acres will continue to keep us comfortable as long as we want. You see what land prices are doing around here? I’m trying to figure a way to sell the whole property, but it’ll be a whole lot trickier than accessing her rent payments. Why don’t you go home now and think about how we can pull that off?” She smiled real big. Her face wavered, then morphed into a skull. Two empty eye sockets and a jaw of grinning teeth.

  “You should have stayed dead.” He trailed her movements with the gun. “This time I’ll bury you. They always stay dead when I bury them.” Sonny frowned. “I think. I don’t know about Channing. She might come back. She didn’t get buried.”

  “How sad and lonely were you when I came back, huh? When you were living in that crappy little foster home and I found you and let you come and stay with me?”

  Mommy kept moving around him. It made him dizzy following her. “I took care of you. I helped you make something of yourself.”

  He shook his head, winced at the pain. “No. You made me find the women. Help you hurt them and use their money. You’re not a good mommy. You brought the bad men home. You’ve never been a good mommy!”

  She launched herself at him then and knocked him to his knees. She wanted the gun and he let her have it. Guns wouldn’t stop Mommy. There was only way to stop her. He reached up and wrapped his fingers around her throat. Squeezed. She gasped, brought fingers up to tear at his grip. But he was strong. Much stronger than when he’d killed her before. “This time you’ll stay dead.”