Facing Evil

by Kylie Brant

  * * * *

  The monster was still sleeping in the other bed. Henry scooted to sit up and looked at her. After he’d changed his clothes she’d made him get up on the bed and had taped his arms and ankles together again.

  But she hadn’t taped him to the bed. Not this time.

  He was bored, but he didn’t want to wake her up. So he couldn’t turn on the TV even if he could reach it. Carefully he swung his legs around so he could slip down the edge of the bed to stand. Maybe he could just watch the TV without the sound. But first he’d have to get to the remote.

  Henry could walk if he took teeny tiny little steps, short enough that he didn’t trip himself. He could get the remote and be back on the bed and she wouldn’t even know. Maybe she would forget that the TV hadn’t been turned on when she’d gone to sleep.

  After killing the bad man in the bathroom.

  His chest got tight when he thought of the man again. The woman was bad, very bad. The man was worse. Worse than anything he’d ever dreamed of. Henry had thought the woman was going to kill him like the man had wanted. He was glad he wasn’t killed.

  But it had been horrible watching her kill that man, too. Even though he wasn’t a good guy at all.

  Henry knew he’d dream about that. About the monster and the bad man screaming about killing him. So he hadn’t wanted to take a nap. He never wanted to go to sleep again.

  He felt a little bubble of triumph when he reached the dresser. Got the remote. He hadn’t made a sound either, just like when he sneaked up on his dad and scared him. Sometimes his dad knew he was there and just pretended to be scared. Tears stung his eyes at the memory and Henry tried not to think about his dad anymore. Because then he would worry about seeing him again. And then he would think about what the monster had said about keeping Henry forever.

  A movement outside the window caught his eye. The lady had closed the curtains, but not tight. He could still see out a little bit. He hopped a little closer. Then closer until he could push the curtains aside and look out better.

  A man and a lady had gotten out of a gray car and were walking to the monster’s car. He looked at the woman on the bed. Then out the window again. The man had a brown uniform and wore a gun.

  That made him a policeman. He frowned. Except police wore blue uniforms. One had come to their kindergarten class and talked to them. So this man was maybe some other kind of cop. The two people got down and looked at the license plate on the monster’s car. Then they got up again and the man looked around. His fingers were touching his gun.

  Henry wanted to bang on the window. If the man was a policeman he would help. He could kill the monster and put her body in the bathroom with that bad guy. Henry raised his hands. He still held the remote. If he made noise the monster would wake up. But maybe if he waved at the couple…

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  He whirled around, dropping the remote. His feet got tangled up and he fell to the floor. Felt himself being lifted up by the back of his shirt and then thrown at the bed. He hit it hard with the back of his knees and then fell forward again.

  “What the hell were you doing, you little asshole? Huh?” The monster yanked him up again. “Did you gesture to someone out there? Did they see you? Did they?”

  He saw the hand coming and tried to duck, but the stinging slap hit him on the side of the head. He shook his head, while the tears ran down his face. “No, they didn’t see me. They left.”

  “Who?” She grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him up in the air, her face close to his. He squeezed his eyes shut, because he didn’t want to see her face, all scrunched up and scary looking like when she’d kicked the bad guy in the bathroom over and over again even when he’d stopped moving.

  “They were looking at your car,” he blurted. “The cop and lady.”

  She released him as suddenly as she’d hauled him up in the air. Strode to the curtains and cracked them a little. “How long ago? How long ago!”

  He’d never known anyone who could yell in a whisper before. “Right when you woke up. They only looked for a minute and then they went away.” They’d left before they could see Henry. Before they could help him.

  He knew it was because no one could help him. Probably not ever.

  “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” She moved away fast, grabbing things that had been lying around and stuffing them into her backpack. Into her purse and another bag. She went into the bathroom, and he turned his head so he wouldn’t see the man lying there. Then she was back, putting more stuff in her bag. The computers both went in the backpack and then she looked around.

  She looked scared. Maybe the police knew she’d killed the man. Maybe they would catch her and put her in jail.

  Maybe when she was in there they would let Henry kick her and kick her through the bars the way she had the bad guy when he was dead.

  Because Henry wished that she was killed, too.

  She’d put on a blue tee shirt that was on the floor. Then she twisted her hair all up in a knot and pulled a man’s cap over it, low on her face. When she put sunglasses on she almost didn’t look like a woman at all.

  “We’re gonna walk out that door.” She shrugged into the backpack. Stuffed her purse in the other big bag. “Down the hallway. Out a side door. You’re going to talk all the way. Non-stop. And you’re going to call me Dad. Dad, can we get something to eat? Dad, are we going to a movie? Shit like that. Make it loud and don’t stop talking and calling me Dad.”

  His lips set, mutinous. He wasn’t going to call the monster dad. She was a mom, but not a very good one because she was mean, and her son was dead. She’d told him that. He had a dad. Maybe he’d never get to see him again, but he only had one dad and he wasn’t going to pretend.

  She stopped and looked at him. “This is it, kid. You do this one thing and I promise you I am going to drive you right to your house. Drop you off. You’ll never see me again.”

  “Really?” Was she lying? She lied all the time. All the time. He knew that. But…what if this time she was telling the truth?

  She came over and pulled out that knife. But this time he knew to hold out his hands so she could cut off the gray tape. Then she squatted down to cut it off his ankles, too. “We got a deal?”

  He took a deep breath. Maybe his dad would understand. When he told him how he had to pretend to get taken home. Dad would say that was okay. He would say Henry was smart. Because that’s what Dad always told him.

  “Okay.”

  * * * *

  “You go inside and check with registration. You have a copy of pictures of Baxter and Vance?”

  Jenna Turner nodded. Adrenaline was spiking in her chest. Her pulse was hammering. Cam had said he was minutes away when she’d called him about the plate. She’d update him from the registration desk with what she found out. If Vance and Baxter were here, something told her they weren’t going to go down easy.

  He stopped her when she would have opened the door to walk up to the motel. “Just the registration desk.” Although she’d often thought she never saw him serious, Beckett’s expression was serious now. Deadly so. “If she has a room, do not go to it. Do not engage.”

  Annoyance flickered. “I’ve been doing my job for at least as long as you’ve been doing yours.”

  He looked impatient. “This doesn’t have damn thing to do with you doing your job. It’s about me, wanting you to have the chance to do it again tomorrow. And the next day.”

  Realization dawned and her irritation faded to be replaced with a blooming warmth. “Back at ya. If you see one of them leaving the building…hell, go ahead and engage. Shoot first. You’re liable to stay alive that way.”

  She got out of the car, slammed the door, and gave him one last look before he drove off. He’d patrol the lot. Baxter’s car was here now. They wanted to keep it there.

  There were several people waiting in front of the registration desk but she had her credentials ready when she strode to the he
ad of the line. “I need to see your manager immediately.”

  * * * *

  Vickie looked both ways down the hallway, and then ducked back inside the room until the giggly group of kids in wet swimsuits went past. Then she pulled the kid by the hand and walked swiftly down the hallway. There was an exit at the end of it and to the left. It faced the lot that had the car in it though, so she’d keep moving until she could find a door that led to the opposite side.

  The kid was silent beside her. She mentally congratulated herself for keeping him. He was better than a fucking passkey, because no one would be expecting a woman traveling with a little kid.

  Or in this case, a man.

  Remembering the ruse, she squeezed his hand punishingly. He winced, then seemed to recall their conversation. “Hey, Dad. You want to hear a knock-knock joke?”

  Christ. “Sure,” she said in her best manly voice. “Let’s hear your joke.”

  “What’s black and white and red all over?”

  They passed an older couple in the hallway and Vickie had to step sideways so her bags didn’t bump them. The woman was smiling down at the kid, the way people do who don’t know what a pain in the ass they are. “Uh…a newspaper?”

  She got to the exit, pretended to adjust the bags as she looked out.

  “No, Dad, an embarrassed sea lion.”

  “That’s a good one, buddy,” she said loudly. Then, taking a deep breath she pushed open the door and they walked outside.

  * * * *

  “We’ve got two possibilities because no one at the front desk could identify her, but only two women are registered for extended stay rooms. Vanecia Mason and Carly Black.”

  “Just a minute, Jenna.” Cam repeated the names to Sophie.

  “Vanecia Mason,” she said immediately. “Baxter would have enjoyed the irony.”

  “I agree.” To Jenna he said, “We think Mason is the most likely name, but we’ll check them both out. You get room numbers?”

  “One forty-seven for Mason. One thirteen for Black.”

  “She sticks to first floor rooms, did you notice?”

  “Because she’s always planning for every contingency.” They had to keep that in mind, Cam thought grimly. There’d be two exits to the rooms.

  “We’re two blocks away. The rest of the team is ten minutes behind us.”

  “See you soon.” Jenna disconnected.

  Since he was getting close, Cam cut the siren. He’d also summoned DMPD Chief of Detectives Lewis and Sheriff Jackson. They needed a tight net around the area and that would take manpower.

  But first they had to make sure their quarry was inside.

  * * * *

  They’d gotten three quarters of the way across the lot. If they kept walking they’d hit a strip mall on the next block. Or behind the motel and across a lot there was a convenience store with a fast food restaurant. Either would have people. Both would have cars. They just needed to get that far.

  From the corner of her eye, Vickie could see the sheriff cruiser coming her way. Slowly. And he was stopping to talk to every fucking body in the lot. Looking them over, probably. The blabbing kid at her side was a good disguise, but she wasn’t as sure about her own. She quickened her step.

  There was a white fence bordering the motel lot from the next properties. No driveways this direction, at least. A beaten footpath on either side of it. If the cop wanted to stop them, it’d have to be on foot.

  The gun she’d shoved in the bag she carried was right on top. Handy. If that snoopy sheriff got too close, a bullet in the forehead might be just the thing to buy them a little time.

  The fence was one hundred feet away now. Fifty. “Hey.” Vickie heard the voice, walked faster. She was practically dragging the kid now. “Hey, sir? Ma’am? With the little boy? I’d like to talk to you.”

  Vickie scooped the kid up in one hand. And ran.

  * * * *

  “You may certainly use my office, Agent.” Liz Epsell, the motel manager hurried ahead of them, showing them into the space.

  “We appreciate it.”

  The woman left and Cam looked at Sophie. Noted the narrowing of her eyes and knew he needed to talk fast. “I can’t worry about your safety and this operation. Tell me you’ll stay put…”

  “I’m not a child. I realize you’re going to clear the area of civilians for the operation.” She made a shooing motion. “Go.”

  Relieved he wasn’t going to have to waste valuable seconds arguing with her, he strode to the door. Heard her voice behind him.

  “Just do me a favor and come back for me in one piece, okay?”

  He shot her a cocky grin over his shoulder. “Haven’t you heard? Bullets bounce off me.” Closing the door behind him, he walked to the front desk, meeting Jenna halfway across the lobby.

  “The room on one side of Vanecia Mason’s room is vacant. I’ve got a card. Maybe we can hear whether there’s anyone in the next…” Her cell rang and she answered it immediately. Cam automatically followed her when she started walking to the entrance. Increased his pace when she began to run.

  “Maxwell’s in pursuit,” she tossed over her shoulder. “South lot. Adult, gender undetermined, with a small child. A boy. Heading east.”

  “Shit.” He pounded after her, past her. Rounded the corner of the motel to see Beckett disappearing around a white fence. “Take my car out front.” Without slowing his pace, he dug in his coat pocket and tossed her the keys. “Head to whatever is in the direction they’re going.” Then he put on a burst of speed and sprinted.

  Cam ran for fitness, not for pleasure. He worked on stamina, not speed. But he was moving fast, his legs pumping. Rounding the fence where he’d last seen Beckett, he jumped a narrow gully and dodged the garbage strewn in the empty lot. The sheriff was ahead of him, heading for the convenience store.

  He was gasping for air when he stopped outside its door. Took a look inside. Beckett was searching the premises so Cam headed around back. When Jenna pulled up and jumped out of his car, he turned around long enough to motion her toward the fast food restaurant.

  Pulling out his cell with his free hand, he called Franks and apprised him of the situation. Unless Cam called again the rest of the agents would enter the motel for surveillance of the two rooms. He dropped the phone back in his pocket and swung around a peeling Dumpster. Found only empty air. He peeked inside it, careful to keep his exposure brief. There was no one there.

  He jogged around to the front. Scanned the parking lot. Twelve vehicles. Three occupied at the gas pump. He walked by each of the others, looking at the driver. Peering in the windows.

  An elderly man backed carefully out of a slot and turned, heading for the driveway. Cam trotted toward the vehicle, but saw no one else inside. Before he reached it, the man had made a cautious turn onto the frontage road.

  “Cam! Anything?”

  Beckett was exiting the convenience store. To the right Cam saw Jenna coming out of the restaurant. He continued checking out the cars in the lot, but the burn in his gut told him what he didn’t want to put into words.

  The suspect was gone.

  * * * *

  It took longer than Cam liked to get the op set up at the motel. To clear out the rooms on the floor near “You killed that old man.”

  Vickie checked the rear view mirror, paranoid as hell. There was no way anyone could be tailing her yet, but she had no idea how they’d gotten the plate on the Impala either, so she was jumpy as hell.