She swung it open, her attention steadied ahead of her, but she heard others rush behind her. She balanced her gun and the flashlight, but it was no longer needed. A bright glow illuminated the base of the stairs. She moved toward the light.
There was man in a glass box. He looked near death, but it wasn’t Howell.
Ford stood to the side of him, and when he saw her, lifted his gun on the man.
Paige held her firearm steady. “Put down your weapon.”
Ford shook his head. “He is guilty and needs to pay for what he’s done.”
Paige’s eyes went to the man. If they didn’t get him out of there soon, this wouldn’t be a rescue anymore. “I said put down your weapon.”
Ford smirked and twisted his body to face the man.
She heard agents and officers come down the stairs behind her. She squeezed the trigger.
The bullet struck Ford in his arm, causing his hand to release his weapon.
“No,” he cried while cradling his wound. “He must pay!”
He was a man gone mad, the look in his eyes burrowed into Paige’s mind. He took fast steps toward the box and the heater.
“Stop!” Paige solidified her stance. She was prepared to shoot him again. The placement of this one would inflict more damage.
She knew all the other law enforcement personnel around her had their guns readied and aimed on Ford as well. If she wanted Ford to survive to pay for his crimes, she’d have to figure out a way to talk the situation down.
She lowered her weapon. “I can understand why you don’t like these men.”
Ford stopped moving. “I hate them.”
“For what they do to their animals, they need to pay.”
“Yes. I am the Advocate for the Defenseless.”
This man had managed to give full logic to his actions. His assigned terms further confirmed his justification. “But what if they are innocent?”
“The Offenders are not!” He swooped to the floor, his good arm reaching for his weapon.
The bullet caught him in the upper chest and jolted him back.
His eyes enlarged as he collapsed to the floor. His gaze, as it fell on Paige, held great sadness.
A local field agent, who had fired the last round, secured Ford, while others rushed to get the man out of the box.
“Paige.”
She spun to see Brandon coming down the stairs and the rest of the team following behind him. Their faces were a welcome sight among this hell hole.
*****
Investigators worked over the garage and its property. It seemed Ford did more than “tinker” there. Dogs were brought in and bodies were uncovered in the back. I had no doubt they would be Garner and Ball from years ago. A freezer in the basement held the bodies of Lyons, and someone they guessed to be Howell—the latter was deformed by acid.
The man in the glass box was Marshall Quinn and he was a prick…maybe it was the heat? When we freed him, he had said ‘about time.’ I had a feeling being a jerk was in his nature as no one had reported him missing.
It was later confirmed that Ford had rented a red Nissan and this is what he used when kidnapping Ellis. Although he could have afforded to buy his own as Ford had won the lottery two years back, netting himself a few million after taxes. So even if he didn’t know each of his victims, they could have recognized his face from the paper or the local news. His background showed he had attended Stanford University, the same as Fields and Larson, but never graduated. He went on to take odd jobs, but never settled in a career.
A hunch I had paid off when I called Nadia to inquire about Simpson’s drinking buddies. Ford drank on Wednesdays like Simpson and Larson. Nadia also found out that Ford’s mother worked for Denver PD at the time Lyons was charged. Coincidently, she was the one who wrote up the charges against him.
“I still can’t believe Ford had his mother get rid of the charges against Lyons,” I said.
“Ford wanted to be the one to exact punishment, not the courts,” Paige said. “Typically all they get are some monetary fines and brief probations. Ford wanted more for Lyons, for all of them.”
I wondered why Ford had waited so long to act out against Lyons—or against any of them for that matter. Maybe it was to place more distance between him and them? He must have been able to resist the urge to kill, at first. I wondered what had triggered him to start again.
Ford was questioned in his hospital room and he never bothered to deny the allegations. He said it was Ken Bailey’s fault for killing his dog as a kid. Ford had never forgotten.
He had said, “When I showed up at that house, a dog tied up on a short leash to the back deck, out in the freezing cold of winter, and he answered the door. He deserved it.” Ford nodded. “Yes, he deserved it. I knew then what I had to do with my life.”
“Why frame Fields?” Jack asked.
Ford laughed. “He took everything away from me. I was trying to turn my life around. He took credits for the papers I wrote. He got that job I deserved with the paper because he cheated his way through life. I hoped he would go down for this, but he got what he earned in the end anyway—death. Then I thought I’d frame that kid at the paper, Turner. It was even better when you looked at Larson. The guy’s a real loser. The sucker actually thought we were friends.” A sick smile lit his face. “That night I killed Ken, I was working on what would have been the best piece I’d ever written.”
“Ken Bailey was your cousin.” I don’t know why I attempted to appeal to his humanity.
It warranted a shrug. “We didn’t stay in touch. He never even recognized me when I was at his door. Family isn’t based on blood and species.”
“Why did you start killing again in two thousand nine?”
“Who said I stopped?”
The truth was in his eyes. He was attempting to mislead me into thinking he had continued killing after Bailey, but our investigation didn’t show any evidence of that. “Why Dean Garner?”
“I was rethinking my life and realized I had nothing going for me. Nothing at all. Then I remembered what I was good at. When I took Ken’s life I felt justified and had made a difference. I remembered reading about Garner in the paper. It was time for him to pay.”
Something still wasn’t settling for me. Garner was two thousand and nine. Ball was one year later, but his recent victims followed after four years, taking place in rapid succession.
“You try to control your urge to kill.”
His gaze drifted from mine and it told me more than if he had made eye contact. Along with his refusal to look at me, he chewed on his bottom lip, like a scared child. Finally, he spoke. “No. Fate intervened that night. I wasn’t meant to be a writer. I was meant to exact justice for the victims who have no voice, for the defenseless. I am their advocate. You can quote me on that.”
Chapter 49
We were going to make it back in time for Christmas after all. The paperwork was still in progress but it would all be sorted out in plenty of time.
We were waiting to board our flight and sitting in an airport lobby designed for passengers of charter aircraft. Sitting there, I had mixed feelings about returning home. I had nothing waiting for me but a finalized divorce.
I glanced over at Paige, who had said very little to me since that night at the bar, and I took the blame for that.
She sat slumped in a chair, wearing the cream sweater from the other night. Her red curls hung down. She must have sensed me watching her. She returned my gaze.
I mouthed Can I come over and she nodded.
She had her bag and coat on the seat to her right. I sat in the one to her left.
“It looks like you’ll be home in plenty of time to celebrate.”
She smiled, but there was sadness that lurked in the shadows. “I will be. I’m happy about that. I think Mom would have killed me if I missed the family dinner.” She paused, picking at her sweater. “What about you? Are you going to be all right?”
Just like Paige, alwa
ys concerned about my wellbeing. “Yeah, I’m going to be good. Better than good. Howell’s girlfriend spread the positive attitude.”
Her brows scrunched together, and I told her about the woman who was high on happiness.
“As long as it works for her.” She didn’t look at me when she said that, but ahead and out through the glass to the tarmac.
“About the other night.”
She turned to me. “No, Brandon, don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worried about it, but I am sorry.”
She studied my eyes.
“I shouldn’t have let you leave before telling you that I love you too.”
Her chin quivered and her eyes misted.
“I should have told you that a long time ago. I’m just afraid of it.”
“The big, bad Brandon is afraid of love?” She smiled, and I sensed it was to suppress the urge to cry.
“I am afraid of loving you.” I glanced over at Jack and Zachery who were into some serious conversation, based on the sharp angles of Jack’s face.
She pulled down on her sweater. “I know what you mean. We’d risk our careers.”
My insides were tearing apart. It was reminiscent of the day Deb had called me to say our marriage was over. Here, I had another woman I loved, but I had to let her go.
“You fought hard to get where you are,” I said.
“And you’re just starting out.”
I narrowed my eyes. “A dig at the new kid?”
She laughed and swatted at me. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“So, what are we going to do about it, about how we feel for each other?”
I heard it in the tone of her voice. Her heart was breaking like mine.
“I think we have to see other people, Paige.” The words, the acknowledgment, sent splinters of pain through my heart.
She didn’t say anything. Her eyes remained locked with mine. “It’s how it has to be, Brandon.” She swallowed roughly and tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. “It’s for the best.”
“Yeah.”
We both went quiet, unsure of what to say to each other. There really was nothing left to say.
I faced her. “It’s always bad timing with us, isn’t it?”
“Well, the first time you were married.” She smirked and her eyes carried an evil glint. “And now it’s either us or the careers we love.”
“Yep, life stinks.”
She touched my forearm. I wanted to do nothing more than pull her in and take her mouth. To whisk her back to the hotel room and hold her until morning—
“Friends?”
I smiled. “Always.”
“What are you doing for Christmas?”
Dear Reader,
As an author I am often asked why I became a writer. The answer is twofold. Writing is my passion, but also knowing that I can touch people with my words, that I can provide a temporary escape, either from stress or pain, or offer some relaxation and entertainment, that touches me on an immensely spiritual level that nothing else can even come close to. Thank you for letting me into your world.
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Keep shining
Carolyn Arnold
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Overview
The first victim was poisoned. Three others are still missing. One more turns up dead. But there is one connection that ties them all together.
This case has FBI Agent Brandon Fisher and the team in Colorado to stop a serial killer targeting men who beat charges of animal abuse over twenty years ago. With the method of murder changing to match what his victims had allegedly inflicted on the defenseless, the team questions who is on the side of justice—them or the murderer. After all, their unsub is seeking retribution on behalf of the victims who have no voice.
While facing this moral dilemma, Brandon’s integrity to the bureau is also tested. But Brandon is up for the challenge—anything to get his mind off his pending divorce and the upcoming holiday. Being thousands of miles from home, the forbidden relationship between him and Paige becomes more tempting, but is he willing to risk all that he’s worked for?
Begin Reading
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Table of Contents
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 Carolyn Arnold
All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database, or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
All rights reserved.
Cover designed by
WGA Designs
Edited by
The Finicky Editor, Lisa Dawn Martinez
Visit the author website at www.carolynarnold.net
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The Defenseless (Brandon Fisher FBI Series Book 3) Page 19
