Girl Eight: A Mercy Harbor Thriller

by Melinda Woodhall

  “Who’s with you, Barker? What’s going on?”

  “Just listen for a minute,” Barker said, his voice raw. “This is going to be hard for you to hear, but the perp who has Eden is someone on the force. Someone we both know very well.”

  The words echoed through Jankowski’s head.

  Someone else on the force is dirty? Someone who has Eden?

  “Who is it?” Jankowski demanded.

  Jankowski listened to Barker inhale deeply and exhale, as if he’d run a mile. A man’s voice in the background urged Barker to hurry.

  “It’s Kramer. Chief Kramer has Eden.”

  Jankowski opened his mouth to laugh, then closed it again. Barker wasn’t joking. He really thought Kramer was dirty.

  “You’re nuts, Barker,” Jankowski snorted, but his mind was starting to spin. “Why would Kramer want to abduct Eden?”

  “She found out what he’d done.”

  Anger was starting to color Barker’s words.

  “She found out he and Bellows were buddies. They were both involved with the killings of Natalie Lorenzo and Helena Steele, as well as Penelope Yates. And that’s not all.”

  A sick feeling settled into Jankowski’s stomach.

  “What the hell are you saying, Barker?”

  “I’m saying Kramer built a makeshift prison over his garage and he’s been holding women in there. I saw the place with my own eyes. I saw pictures of eight different woman he’d kept locked up. I think they might all be dead.”

  Jankowski shook his head, refusing to believe the lies Barker was spewing at him. For some reason Barker had it in for Kramer.

  He must be trying to set Kramer up.

  “I don’t believe you, Barker. How about I call Kramer right now and ask him what the hell is going on?”

  “Kramer won’t answer your call. He’s busy trying to cover up his crimes. He’ll do anything to cover up what he’s done. He killed Helena Steele, Natalie Lorenzo and Penelope Yates to cover his tracks, as well as Adrian and Terri Bellows. He won’t hesitate to kill Eden and Nessa, too.”

  Jankowksi stared over at the bloody bodies still displayed in all their gory detail across the hall.

  “How can you say that Kramer killed Bellows? It was a suicide. We have the weapon. I read the note.”

  “Nessa told me Adrian Bellows didn’t kill himself. She said she had proof. That proof is there at the scene. Look for it, Jankowski. I trust Nessa, and I think she’s in danger.”

  Jankowski walked to the doorway and stared down at the gun clutched in the dead man’s hand.

  Slowly his eyes moved to the pictures on the bookshelf, and he realized what had been bothering him since he’d gotten there.

  “Bellows has the gun in his left hand,” Jankowski murmured into the phone.

  “What was that?” Barker asked, his voice fuzzy as the cell reception started to fade in and out.

  “Nothing,” Jankowski said, his jaw clenching. “It doesn’t matter. Where’s Nessa heading? What’s the address?”

  “It’s the old dairy farm east of town. The one that old man Kramer used to run.”

  Jankowski knew the place. He’d driven by the crumbling fence a million times on the way out to the coast, and he’d watched the sign fading away over the years.

  “She’ll never make it out there in this weather,” Jankowski said, but his words sounded unsure, even to his own ears.

  He knew Nessa pretty well, even though they’d only been partners a few months. If anyone could find a way through a hurricane to help someone, it would be Nessa.

  “I’ll try to reach her on the radio. I’ll keep in touch.”

  But the cell service had already dropped.

  Jankowski knew he may not be able to reach Barker again; it was up to him to find a way to warn Nessa.

  If what Barker said was true, she was heading into a situation even more dangerous than the category four storm swirling around them.

  Once again Jankowski dialed Tucker Vanzinger’s number.

  "I need your help, man. And I think I know how you can clean up that mess you left behind.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Eden opened her eyes; a soft clump of dirt fell to the ground in front of her. She tried to move her head, but it felt unbearably heavy, so she closed her eyes again, willing herself to go back to sleep. A grunt and another thud prompted her to try again. She wrenched her head to the side and forced her eyes open. A big man stood over her, a shovel in his hand. Another shovelful of dirt landed beside her.

  A small camping lantern hung on a hook behind the man, lighting up the dim room, revealing his rough, weathered face.

  Chief Kramer? What is he doing? Why is he here…wherever here is?

  Eden’s head ached as she tried to remember where she was and how she’d gotten there. Memories of the hurricane, and her frantic drive to find Kara seeped back into her mind. The events of the day began to filter through her mental fog.

  I was looking for Kara. Dr. Bellows had an address in his satnav.

  A gust of wind slammed the wooden door open, and Eden flinched, alerting Kramer that she was awake. He threw down the shovel and squatted next to her, studying her with curious eyes.

  “You waking up already?”

  His words were matter-of-fact, and Eden was embarrassed that her lips wouldn’t form a coherent response.

  Had she suffered some sort of stroke? Did Kramer find her passed out on the ground and drag her in from the storm?

  “I never tried Chloroform before. Wasn’t sure how much to use.”

  Kramer’s words confused Eden; she frowned up at him, unsure what he was saying.

  Chloroform? Isn’t that what killers use in movies to knock people out?

  She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate, but her brain wouldn’t cooperate. Her thoughts and memories still seemed hazy.

  “But I had to do something to stop your meddling.”

  Kramer’s voice sounded far away.

  “You’ve caused me a lot of trouble, you know. I had to bring the girl here before I’d had a chance to enjoy her properly. And you made me have to kill Doc. That’s the worst of it.”

  A shiver ran down Eden’s spine as she absorbed his words.

  Is he saying he’s killed someone? And that it was her fault?

  She kept her eyes closed, hoping he would think she had fallen asleep again.

  No, not asleep. I wasn’t asleep, I was drugged. Like Kara.

  The thought of the missing woman flashed through Eden’s mind like a lightning bolt, filling her with fear and dread.

  Where is Kara? Has Kramer done something with her?

  Eden forced herself to open her eyes again and look up at Kramer’s craggy face. She recoiled at the hate in his close-set eyes.

  “Ka…Kara.”

  The croak of her voice hovered in the muggy air. Kramer’s eyes flashed in fury as he realized what she’d said.

  “You stupid, bitch. You’re still worried about that drug addicted nobody? Well, there she is, if you’re so desperate to see her.”

  Kramer stepped back and pointed the shovel toward a wooden wall a few feet away. Eden forced her eyes to shift toward the wall. Kara Stanislaus lay there motionless, her dark hair spilling out around her, melting into the shadows of the little building.

  Eden strained to move her hand. She wanted to reach out to Kara, wanted to see if she was still alive. But her hand wouldn’t cooperate. It felt thick and unimaginably heavy. The realization that she couldn’t move ignited a fierce panic. Eden’s chest tightened and her throat constricted.

  “Help…”

  She tried to scream out, but her weak plea was swallowed by the roar of the storm outside the thin wooden walls.

  “Nobody can help you now, Ms. Winthrop. You’ve gone and stuck your nose in my business for the last time.”

  His big work boot appeared next to her face, and her eyes rested on a rusty red splotch that marred the surface. She raised her eyes up to
see Kramer frowning down at her, his hands as big as hams on his broad hips.

  “You just couldn’t let it rest, could you? Couldn’t let me just finish up my mission and move on.”

  Eden tried to block out his angry words, tried to calm her breathing. If she panicked now, it could prove fatal. She had to concentrate on getting away.

  Just wiggle the toes on one foot. Start small.

  If she could wiggle her toes, then she might be able to move her foot. And if she could regain control of her feet and her legs, she might have a chance to get away.

  “My old man warned me about women like you.”

  Kramer cocked his head, as if considering his own words, then burst out laughing. The odd, raspy sound sent shivers down Eden’s spine.

  “Of course, I never much listened to that mean old bastard. He let my mother make a fool of him and then spent the rest of his life taking it out on me.”

  Eden felt her toes responding; she switched her focus to her foot.

  Just focus on one foot at a time. You can do this, Eden.

  “It was the one favor my old man did for me. He made me tough. Made me realize I didn’t need anyone or anything.”

  Kramer turned and picked up the shovel again.

  “But enough about that old fuck. He’s dead and buried, and I’m still here and, well, I’ve got some more burying to do.”

  A clump of dirt fell close to Eden’s staring eyes.

  “What…what are….you going to do with…Kara?”

  Her voice was weak, but she managed to squeeze out the question. Kramer paused and looked back at Kara’s motionless form.

  “I’m gonna bury her like the others.” Kramer sounded amused. “Why do think I’m digging this hole, just for the fun of it?”

  “The others?”

  Kramer’s face lit up, and he again put the shovel down and crouched beside Eden, looking into her wide, green eyes.

  “Yes, the other girls I brought here.”

  He motioned over to Kara.

  “She’s number eight in my…collection, I guess you could say. This old stable has eight stalls; once I’m done tonight, that’ll be it.”

  A terrible understanding grew in Eden’s mind. She was looking at a serial killer. An evil man who enjoyed collecting the lives of young women. A man who planned to kill Kara, then kill her, and then go on killing.

  “Why?”

  The question tore from her throat like a curse, causing Kramer to frown and glare down at her in sudden anger.

  “Why what? Why did I kill the girls buried in here?”

  He ran a meaty hand through his thick thatch of hair and then clenched both hands into fists. Eden shrank back into the ground, sure he was going to strike out at her. Instead he stood, grabbed the shovel and began digging again.

  “I don’t have time to waste jawing with you. I’ve got to get this done and get back to town before people start asking questions and come looking for me.”

  Eden moved her legs, a tingling sensation telling her that blood was starting to circulate again. She was regaining control. If only she could find a way to distract him long enough to try to stand.

  “You must have…a reason,” she said, trying to think of something to get him talking. She had to stall for time. “A man doesn’t kill…for no…reason.”

  “Who said I didn’t have a reason?”

  Kramer was winded now, the effort of hefting the big shovelfuls of dirt bringing beads of sweat to his forehead.

  “I started killing to protect a friend, actually. To protect the only real friend I ever had. But then, well, I have to admit I started to like it. And it made it easier to take what I wanted and not have any problems afterwards.”

  He was panting now, and the hole was getting deeper.

  “I learned to bury the evidence. That’s what kept me out of trouble all this time. Until you showed up.”

  Eden moved her leg, and shifted her weight slightly, tensing her back and her arms. If she jumped up, would she be able to stand? Would she be able to run?

  But what about Kara? Even if I can run out of here, what will happen to Kara? Can I just leave her here to die?

  Kramer was now knee deep in the big hole, and his sweaty face leered over at Eden.

  “I’m gonna make sure you can’t cause me any more trouble. After tonight you’ll never cause anyone any trouble ever again.”

  His raspy laugh echoed through the stable, reverberating in Eden’s ears and making her hair stand on end.

  He’ll never let me out of here alive. I’ll never see Hope and Devon again.

  The thought of her niece and nephew brought tears to Eden’s eyes. She imagined their distress when she didn’t come home. Would they ever know what had happened to her? Would they ever be able to find peace again after losing the only family they had left?

  But no, they still have Reggie. She’ll take care of them. If I’m gone, they’ll still have Reggie and Duke.

  The thought of the golden retriever stirred a memory. Duke had been with her at Kramer’s house. Was he okay? Had the dog gotten away, or had Kramer done something to him?

  If only she had waited for Nessa to call back, or asked Leo to go with her. Leo Steele’s face hovered in her mind, and she wondered if Leo would look for her. If he never found her, and never found out what had happened to her, would she become his new quest? Would he spend his life blaming himself for not being able to save her?

  Anger began to build inside her, pushing away the sadness and fear. She glared over at Kramer, knowing she had to try to stop him. The horrible man was going to kill her, and he would destroy her family along with her. If she didn’t do something soon, he would take her life and hurt everyone who loved her.

  A cold resolve flooded through Eden; she closed her eyes and forced herself to go limp. A plan was starting to form, but she needed to put Kramer at ease. She needed him to believe she posed no threat.

  But I am a threat, old man. I’ve killed before and I won’t hesitate to kill again to save myself and protect my family.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Astab of pain shot through Kramer’s back, forcing him to drop the shovel and wait for the pain to run its course. He couldn’t quit now, not before the hole was deep enough, and not when he had two women laid out on the ground next to him. If anyone saw the light in the stable and happened by to check on him, he would be done for. He’d spend the rest of his life behind bars or end up strapped to a metal table having lethal drugs pumped into his veins.

  Just gotta get these two in the ground and get back to town.

  But the hurricane wasn’t cooperating. The stable walls trembled under the sustained pressure of the wind, and the old wooden door rattled on its rusty hinges. Endless rain hammered down on the thin tin roof, and Kramer’s head started hurting along with his back.

  At least the Winthrop bitch has stopped whining.

  He regarded the blonde woman’s slack face, nudged at her leg with his dirty boot. The chloroform had done a good job. Now that Doc was gone, along with his easy supply of drugs, maybe Kramer would have to start using chloroform more often.

  A gurgling sound by the door made Kramer turn his head. A muddy stream of water was flowing under the door, quickly pooling on the dirt floor. He ran to Kara and rolled her limp body to the side. He pulled the tarp from under her and dragged it across the floor, stuffing it into the gap under the door. Fear kindled inside him as he waited to see if the tarp would hold.

  What if the whole place floods? What will come out of the ground?

  The girls in the stable had been buried in dry, hardpacked ground. They would remain safe and sound as long as the conditions in the stable stayed the same. He wasn’t sure what might happen if the ground got wet or the surrounding area flooded.

  He saw with relief that the tarp had stopped the water. He was safe for now, and he wouldn’t let anything jeopardize the mission. Girl eight was going in the ground, and Eden Winthrop was going with her. Nothi
ng could stop him; it was just like that old song.

  Kramer picked up the shovel and began to sing under his breath, trying to remember all the words to the song he and Doc used to sing back in the good old days in Germany.

  “Off we go into the wild blue yonder, climbing high, into the sun. Here they come zooming to meet our thunder…”

  Kramer raised his voice as he began to warm to the words and the tune, eager to drown out the incessant rain and wind outside.

  “Down we dive, spouting our flame from under, off with one heckuva roar! We live in fame, or go down in flame, nothing’ll stop the…”

  With a sudden, loud crack, the old door banged off its hinges and flew into the room, smashing into Kramer and sending him staggering back against the wall. He pushed the cracked wood away and held a fist up to the dark sky beyond the doorway.

  “You don’t want me singing that song?”

  Kramer yelled out to an unseen face from the past, his long-buried resentment at being discharged from the service finally bubbling to the surface after all these years. The self-righteous men that had kicked him out of the force had turned their backs on him, after he’d sacrificed years to serve his country. They’d taken the word of a whore over his. They’d failed him just like everyone he’d ever known.

  He stared out into the storm with reproachful eyes, watching the heaving palmettos beyond as they waved and bowed and shuddered. The tarp flapped and skipped along the floor, before plastering itself to one of the walls. The stable creaked and groaned around him, and he shook himself into action. He had no more time to waste; the hole would have to be deep enough.

  Water burbled and streamed into the room, turning the dirt floor to mud and forming puddles under Kramer’s boots. He grasped Kara’s ankles, feeling heat in her skin that let him know she was still alive, still a risk. He dragged her toward the open grave he’d prepared. Once she lay at the edge, he circled around and pushed her gently forward, applying just enough pressure to begin her slow slide down into the pit.

  Collecting the tarp from the corner of the room, he held it out, preparing to drape it over her body, then remembered that he had something for her. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the gold chain and cross that Doc had given him. He’d said the girl had been wearing it when he’d taken her.