by Karen Fenech
“Chief!”
The voice came through the earpiece Ryan wore. His chest tightened as if something were crushing him. He broke into a cold sweat, terrified that Faith’s body had been found. His voice came out hoarse. “I’m here.”
“We found tire tracks leading out to the road. Gaines had a vehicle stashed and used it to drive out of the woods.”
* * *
The mud had preserved the tire tracks. Not enough rain had fallen to erase them. The vehicle had been concealed in a break in the trees that was far enough not to be seen from the road. There were a couple of other places it could have been left, but they were closer to the street, risking exposure. This place provided the best hiding spot. Gaines had selected it well.
Just as Gaines had planned everything well since his escape. Ryan was having a hard time reconciling the Gaines who’d left a shit load of evidence pointing to himself as the man who’d murdered Sharon Fahey with the meticulous man he was tracking now.
Ryan followed the tracks to the road. The rain had washed away any mud that clung to the tires and may have shown them in which direction the vehicle went. But there was another way to find that out.
Ryan called Galbraith. After he told Frank of the discovery of the tracks, Ryan said, “The intersections at both ends of this road are equipped with CCTV cameras. I left Faith’s at two o’clock this morning. It’s doubtful there were many vehicles on this road at that time. Gaines had to be in one of them with Faith. We need that footage.”
By the time Ryan returned to his office, Galbraith had set up in the conference room. “Where are we, Frank?”
“I just started but so far, nothing. The intersection’s clear. No feed of any vehicles turning onto the road where you found the tracks. I’m betting Gaines dropped his ride there sometime before this morning.”
Ryan agreed. Nothing about Faith’s abduction was last minute or random. It had been planned down to the last detail. Too restless to sit, Ryan remained on his feet as the feed continued to play. A car appeared on the screen. An early model sedan.
“Ryan,” Galbraith said.
Ryan leaned forward. “I see it.”
He went on watching the sedan without blinking as it turned south, leaving the intersection. South led into town.
Galbraith paused the feed to note the make, model, and license plate then swiveled his chair to the laptop he’d set up on the table and accessed the data base.
“Sedan’s registered to a Ruth Bedford,” Galbraith said. “DL lists her as seventy-nine years old.” The computer keys clacked again as Galbraith moved his thick fingers over them. “No report of the car being stolen.” He looked up at Ryan. “I’ll send a uniform to speak with Mrs. Bedford and to check that the car hasn’t been taken without her knowing it.”
Ryan resumed the recording. The intersection remained empty as the feed played on. They were still staring at empty air when the uniform reported in. Mrs. Bedford had indeed been at that intersection at two a.m. that morning. She’d been returning from an all night home bingo party at a friend’s house. Her car was currently locked in her garage.
Ryan fought back impatience and focused again on the recording. Twenty four minutes and five seconds into the feed according to the time stamp, a van pulled up to the intersection. Eyes riveted to the screen, Ryan watched the van turn north. Again Galbraith accessed the data base.
A moment later Galbraith said, “We got something. Van’s registered to the Wade County Shelter.” Galbraith paused. “No report that it’s been stolen but it’s possible no one’s gone looking for it yet. Gaines was right there. Could have helped himself to the van to make his getaway and to abduct Miss Winston.”
Before Ryan could issue an alert on the van, he needed to confirm that it was missing. He checked his watch. Eight o’clock. Ryan hoped Scott Logan was at the shelter. He called Logan’s cell phone.
“Chief Crosby, what can I do for you?” Logan said a moment later.
“Mr. Logan, a van registered to the shelter has shown up as a vehicle of interest.” Ryan gave Logan the vehicle information. “Where do you park this van?”
“On our lot in the back.”
“Can you tell me if it’s on your lot now?” It was possible that the plate had been switched.
“Chief, what’s this about?”
“I can’t say any more than I already have at this time. The van is a vehicle of interest. I’d appreciate your help in confirming its location.”
“Give me a moment.” Logan returned quickly. “It’s gone, Chief.”
“When was the last time you saw it?”
Logan blew out a breath. “Last week. Friday, I think. Yes, Friday. The van needed gas and I took it for a fill up.”
“Are you the only one with a key to the van?”
“Well, there are two keys, but they’re kept on the wall, on a board in the staff room along with keys to the doors in case access is needed when I’m not in the office. We use the van to pick up supplies. At times we provide transportation to another facility. We also arrange outings from time to time We’ve been known to take our guests on picnics, weather permitting.” Logan gave a low laugh. “Our staff and volunteers all have access to it for shelter business. I’ve also lent it out for personal use, if one of our people is moving house. I’m in the staff room now. One of the van keys is missing. We’re informal about that type of thing. If you hadn’t called, we may not have noticed it was gone until someone needed to use the van again.” Logan paused and when he spoke next, his words were brisk. “James Gaines would know where we kept the keys from his time with us. It’s possible he may have taken the van.”
“We’ll need you to report the van as stolen, Mr. Logan.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
“We’ll be in touch if we need anything more from you.”
Ryan ended the call. Adrenaline shot through him. “Issue an alert on the van, Frank. We need to pick that van up on another cam and find out where it went.”
“On it,” Galbraith said.
Ryan rolled his shoulders, feeling as if his skin was now too tight for his body. Finally, the surveillance he’d requested arrived. He and Galbraith resumed their positions at the conference table.
Not long into the new feed, Galbraith reached out and tapped the screen. “Here it is.” He rose half out of his seat. “Going through the Thompson Road and Haversham intersection. Still heading north.”
Ryan prayed the van continued in that direction because that was the only lead they had. If the van veered off at any point, they’d lose it.
Galbraith moved on to the next intersection that had CCTV. Not all of Wade’s intersections were equipped with cameras and the distance between them grew the farther away from town.
“Here it is again,” Galbraith said. “Gaines fucked up. He didn’t factor in the CCTVs.”
“If Gaines had fucked up, it would be the first time since his escape.”
Galbraith frowned. “What are you thinking?”
“Something isn’t right.” Ryan rubbed his eyes that were gritty from too many nights with too little sleep. “Gaines had done nothing but fuck up with the Fahey murder and now all of a sudden he hasn’t missed a step.”
Galbraith’s frown deepened. “You think Gaines is playing us? That he wants us to find him?”
“I don’t see Gaines being capable of pulling this off. It’s too neat. Too calculated. It feels like we’re being led. Something is off. Like someone else is pulling Gaines’s strings.” Ryan shook his head. “But at this moment, I don’t give a fuck about the how of it or the who as long as we get to Faith.”
In a tense silence, they watched the van breeze through the next two intersections as well and then the CCTV surveillance came to an end.
“He’s still heading north,” Ryan said. “What’s up that way?”
“Trees. ”
Ryan wheeled away from the conference table to a map on the wall. “Mill Road.”
“The
old timber mill,” Galbraith said.
Abandoned. Isolated. And Faith was up there with Gaines. Ryan was already half out of his mind with fear for her. He had to work to hang on to what little sanity he had left. “We need to get up there now.”
Leaving it to Galbraith to send the necessary enforcement, Ryan ran to his vehicle. And prayed that he wouldn’t be too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Not revenge. Justice. I’m going to get the justice for Sharon Fahey that you’ve denied her.
Faith’s insides quivered. As she scrambled madly for some way to stop Colson, to keep him from meting out his form of justice, a gun shot rang out. Colson hit the floor, clearly dead.
Faith cried out. Scott Logan stood in the doorway. He’d killed Colson and now pointed the gun at her.
“I never did like Colson,” Logan said.
Faith’s eyes went to Colson’s gun, holstered at his waist and now an arm’s length from her. She tested her fingers, trying to move them. No success. She tried wiggling her toes then let out a small whimper when they also remained still. Immobilized as she was, she couldn’t get to the gun and then it became a non-issue as Logan closed the distance between them and took the gun from Colson’s body.
Breathing hard, her eyes avid on him, Faith watched Logan straighten away from the body. James moaned and mumbled. Slowly, he pushed himself to an elbow and then to his knees. He lifted both hands to his head and blinked at Faith.
“Are you all right? I’m sorry Colson got the jump on me, Faith. I won’t fail you again. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” James mopped blood from his forehead with his fingers. “Mr. Logan is here. He’ll help us now. It’s going to be all right. You’ll see.”
“Scott Logan is the friend who has been helping you.” Had James tried to save her from Colson so he himself and now Logan as well could hurt her?
“Not just me. Mr. Logan is helping you too. He’s going to make sure that I can take you away to somewhere safe, somewhere where the man who hurt you in the parking lot won’t find you.”
Clearly, James believed what he’d said. “James, you are hurting me. Let me go.” But even as she said the words she wondered if it was too late for James to do that, even if she could convince him to. James deferred to his “friend”. The power had shifted with Logan’s arrival. “You may think Logan is going to help me, but he isn’t.” She spoke in a rush, getting the words out as quickly as she could say them. “He just killed a man. There’s no coming back from that.”
James’s brow furrowed and for an instant Faith hoped she’d gotten through to him, but then he shook his head and his lips pulled tight. “Colson deserved what he got. He would of hurt you. Mr. Logan was only protecting you. Now that Mr. Logan is here, we can leave.”
Logan’s gaze shifted to her. Soulless. Empty. Predator to prey. Faith’s neck prickled. Her heart was too loud in her ears. “He’s not going to let us leave.”
James gave her a small, one sided smile. “Sure he is. It’s the reason he’s here. To help us get away. I couldn’t have gotten you here without him. He came to see me at the hospital, told me when they moved me out of intensive care, that would be my chance to escape. Once I did, he told me I could stay at the shelter.”
“You were staying at the shelter?” Faith’s mind raced.
“Mr. Logan’s been helping me. Like I been saying. He knew I needed a place to stay. I didn’t mean to scare that woman who found me, but it was time to leave anyway. Mr. Logan let me use the van from the shelter, even left it for me near your house so I could bring you here. Someone wants to hurt you. Mr. Logan and me are going to make sure you stay safe.”
Logan had yet to utter a word since he’d killed Colson. His continued silence unnerved Faith. Perspiration slicked her skin. “He isn’t here to help us, James.”
“It would have been easier if Fahey had killed Gaines in the courthouse,” Logan said. “But then we wouldn’t be here, Miss Winston, and that would have been a loss.”
Gaines’s brows pulled together. “Mr. Logan, what do you mean, easier if he’d killed me?”
“You killed Mrs. Fahey, James.”
James’s voice rose. He moved his head from side to side, seemingly unaware of the blood that began to stream down his face. “No. No! I didn’t kill Mrs. Fahey. Mrs. Fahey was good to me. I wouldn’t of hurt her.”
“James, you’re confused,” Logan said.
Tears filled James’s eyes. “No. No.”
“You became obsessed with Sharon. Everyone knows of your fixation. The police have the papers you wrote her name on over and over.”
“No. No. It wasn’t like that. Mrs. Fahey was kind to me.”
Logan spoke on. “You wouldn’t take no for an answer. You became angry, enraged.”
“No!”
“You couldn’t take that she’d rejected you. And then you used a hammer to beat her to death.”
Faith tasted bile at the excitement that sparked in Logan’s eyes when he’d mentioned how Sharon Fahey had been beaten. Again Faith worked her arms and legs but her limbs remained unresponsive. She squeezed her eyes shut fighting off the panic overtaking her mind.
“I didn’t hurt Mrs. Fahey. You have to believe me, Mr. Logan. You’re my friend.”
As if a switch had been flipped, the excitement in Logan’s eyes vanished. His gaze darkened. “I don’t blame you, James. Sharon was always going against me. Always challenging me. Challenging my authority at the shelter. She was a woman who did not know her place.”
“What are you saying, Mr. Logan?” James said weakly.
Faith’s mouth trembled. “He’s saying that he killed Sharon Fahey. And now he’s going to kill me and make it look like you did it. You’re going to be blamed again.” Fear closed Faith’s throat so tight it choked her.
James shook his head in rapid motion. “I won’t hurt Miss Winston.”
“You became obsessed with her, just as you had with Sharon,” Logan said. “You killed the cop assigned to her this morning and abducted her.”
Faith closed her eyes briefly. James Gaines hadn’t killed Officer Birch. It was Logan.
“And now you’re going to kill her just as you killed Sharon,” Logan said.
“No. Miss Winston is my angel. She defended me.” James’s voice broke. “You killed Mrs. Fahey. How could you kill Mrs. Fahey?” Tears welled in his eyes. They held pain, but also determination. He shook his head. “I’m not going to let you hurt Miss Winston.” James stepped between Faith and Logan. “I won’t let you hurt her.”
Logan calmly pressed the gun to James’s chest and shot him in the heart.
Faith screamed. “You just lost your scapegoat by killing James.”
“I didn’t kill him, you did. Your final act before you succumbed to the injuries he inflicted on you after he killed Colson.” He arched an eyebrow, mocking her. “What? Nothing more to say? Not so smart after all, are you? Not so smug now.” Anger ignited in Logan’s eyes. “You never should have challenged me by defending Gaines. Did you think you’d outwitted me in the parking lot? Did you think you’d won?”
Logan was her assailant.
“You can’t win against me. Not today anymore than you did the first time you tried.”
“What?”
“All of your efforts to find Lorraine Owens’s killer fell flat. You weren’t up to the job. You never could be.” His voice dripped with disdain.
“You killed her . . .”
His lips curled. “Lorraine was another big mouth bitch. Always contradicting me with the shelter’s board of directors. That night, after I forced her to call your father, I shut her up for good.”
Logan had killed Lorraine Owens and her father had been executed for it. Faith gaped at Logan, taking that in. And when Logan killed Faith, no one would ever know what he had done.
He gave her a look of pure hatred. “The beating I gave you in the parking lot is going to look like a lover’s kiss when I’m through with you.”
&n
bsp; He returned to the doorway and retrieved a small duffel. He put Colson’s gun and his own gun inside. With a sound of disgust, he swiped his hand across the dishes and personal items that James had assembled on the work bench. In the space he’d cleared, he laid out knives and a meat cleaver.
With his back now to her, Logan picked up a knife and touched the pad of his thumb to the blade. “I’m going to cut you then chop you into pieces, beginning with your most offensive part—your mouth.”
Logan’s murders of Fahey and Owens had been crimes of rage. Just as Faith’s would be. Her heart pumped wildly. Vomit rose to the back of her throat.
Ryan would be looking for her. He would come. He would find her. But he wouldn’t be in time. Her fear built, but so did her rage. Rage that Logan had raped and killed Sharon Fahey and Lorraine Owens. That her father had been executed for the murder Logan had committed. Logan wouldn’t stop with Faith’s death. He would move on to the next woman he felt challenged him. He had to be stopped. She had to stop him. It had to end here.
With Logan’s back to her, Faith again tested her ability to move. Some of the feeling was returning. It had to be enough. Dear God make it be enough.
A weapon. The knives and the cleaver were too far away. She couldn’t pull herself up off the floor. She focused on lifting her arm. It rose slightly. As high as the paint can near her head and she’d have a chance.
Logan turned away from the bench. He stalked toward her slowly, in no hurry. He had a knife in one hand and something hidden in the other. His eyes burning with malice, he showed her his hand. A syringe. He wanted her weak, unable to fight him and leave defensive marks on him.
If he injected her again, it was all over. Fear washed over her like a wave, drowning her, leaving her gasping. And Logan fed off of her fear. She could see the bulge of his erection.
He fastened his soulless gaze on her and bent over her. She could feel his breath on her cheek. She made a soft sound of terror. In another instant he would inject her. She had to move now. Now.
