The Fifth Victim

by Beverly Barton

  “Call Jacob,” Genny whispered. “He’s already killed Esther. I could see her plainly. She was lying on a tattered chaise longue. And the sword…the sword ripped through her flesh. Blood. So much blood.”

  Jazzy glanced at the closed blinds covering the window in Genny’s room. She walked over to the window and opened the blinds. The faint pink glow of morning light brightened the dark sky.

  Chapter 27

  He had waited until the officer watching his home drove away at seven o’clock. Apparently his orders had been to stay until well after daybreak. What no one knew, not the officer who’d kept watch all night nor the sheriff and the members of his task force, was that he had already sacrificed Esther Stowe, down in the basement. Everything had gone according to plan. His only regret was that he hadn’t dared allow Esther to scream. Someone might have heard her.

  He kept his coat and hat on and a scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face as he entered the hospital through the ER entrance. Earlier in the week, he had taken the time to scope out the entrances, determine where the guards were located, and discover what doors were locked at night and exactly when they opened each morning. The only entrance that was open twenty-four hours a day was the automatic double doors leading from the ambulance delivery area to the ER’s waiting room.

  There were only two people in the waiting room, but neither paid much attention to him as he walked through and headed toward the long hallway that would take him to the elevators. He checked his watch. He had to get to Genny’s room and take her from the hospital before Dallas Sloan arrived for breakfast. Or perhaps Sloan wouldn’t show up this morning, since the federal agent had probably joined the task force in the massive manhunt for Esther Stowe. They wouldn’t find her, of course. At least not any time soon.

  He kept a close lookout all around him; it wouldn’t do for him to run into someone he knew. Of course, if necessary, he could just say he’d stopped by to see Genny. After all, it wouldn’t be a lie. He really was here to see her. To see her, drug her, and take her away.

  After entering the elevator and finding himself alone, he smiled as he punched the UP button. So far so good. With a little luck his plan would work. When he arrived on the second floor, he went directly to the storage room he’d spotted when he’d been checking out Genny’s floor. He closed the door behind him, then flipped the light switch. He removed his scarf, coat, and hat, folded them neatly, and stuffed them in the garbage can. Then he took off his trousers and added them to the other clothing. Placing his hands on either side of his head, he adjusted the wig he wore.

  Too bad there wasn’t a mirror in here, he thought. He’d really like to check his nurse’s attire, to make sure he looked just right. But he’d put together this costume as meticulously as he did everything else. And he had applied his makeup carefully. Lipstick, blush, and eyeliner. Thankfully, no one would suspect he wasn’t female, not with his pretty face. Mother had always said he was too pretty to be a boy.

  Hustle, hustle, he told himself. Time’s a-wasting. Luckily he didn’t encounter any of the nurses as he made his way down the hall. In his peripheral vision, he spotted a cafeteria staffer rolling the five-tier breakfast cart from the elevator. The young woman brought the cart to a halt several feet from the nurses’ station, then went over and began talking to the LPN on duty.

  He eased up behind the cart, slid a tray off the top, and, whistling inside his mind, headed toward Genny’s room. He recognized the guard outside her door.

  “Good morning, Deputy Willingham,” he said in his best alto voice. He could mimic his mother’s voice so well that sometimes he spooked himself just hearing the sound.

  “Morning,” the deputy replied.

  “May I take Genny’s breakfast in to her?”

  “Sure. Go on in.”

  He slipped right past the stupid deputy. The man hadn’t bothered to ask why Genny’s breakfast was early, and he hadn’t even noticed that no one else on the floor had received a tray yet. And Genny’s room was near the end of the hall, so she should have been one of the last patients served.

  When he entered Genny’s room, he kept his head down. He had to work fast if his plan was to come off without a hitch. Being as astute as she was, Genny might pick up on his true identity, so it was best if she didn’t get a close look at his face before he subdued her. There would be time enough to reveal himself later.

  He glanced at the bed. Empty. Suddenly he heard water running in the bathroom. He set the tray on the portable table, then removed one of the two hypodermics in his pocket. He popped off the plastic cap to expose the needle and opened the door very quietly. Deputy Willingham had his back to the door.

  Thanks for being so cooperative.

  He eased up behind the deputy and shoved the needle into his buttock, right through his pants. Willingham yelped and grabbed his butt, but before he could do more than glance over his shoulder, he slumped to the floor. He clutched the guy by his shoulders and dragged him straight into Genny’s room. Just as he positioned the deputy halfway under the bed and only partially out of view, Genny emerged from the bathroom.

  “Morning, dear,” he said to her in Mother’s sweetest voice. “Breakfast’s here.”

  Genny stopped just outside the bathroom. She stared at him. Hell, was his wig on crooked? he wondered. Had she recognized his voice even though he’d disguised it?

  “Need some help getting back into bed?” he asked and scurried toward her.

  She held up a hand, motioning him to stop. He paused, then moved toward the bed. He fluffed the pillow and straightened the cover. Genny crept around the foot of the bed and headed toward the door. He grabbed her just as she caught hold of the door handle. When she opened her mouth to cry out, he covered her mouth with one hand and dragged her to the bed. She fought him, but luckily she was a small woman who wasn’t fully recovered from surgery. He threw her onto the bed and with his one free hand jerked the other hypodermic from his pocket. Using his teeth, he removed the plastic cap covering the needle. Genny’s eyes widened in fear when she realized what he was going to do. When she squirmed and tried again to fight him, he flattened one of his knees atop her chest, then took the syringe and aimed it at her hip. Within seconds, she passed out.

  The door to the stairs was at the end of the hall, only two rooms down from Genny’s room. All he had to do was wrap her in a blanket, carry her less than fifteen feet, and he’d be almost home free. There was little chance anyone would see him. Few people used the stairs, especially not this early in the morning. And he’d parked his car in the employee’s lot, near the back entrance. Since the day shift had already come on and the night shift had left, there shouldn’t be any activity in that area. Once he had her safely in the trunk of his car, he would take the back road from the hospital out of town.

  He had chosen the perfect place for her sacrifice. A place worthy of a Druid priestess or a Cherokee shaman. The blood of both ran through Genevieve Madoc’s veins. She’d told him so herself.

  Dallas arrived at the hospital at precisely eight-twenty. Genny would have showered by now and would be waiting for him. For the past thirty minutes or so he’d had the oddest feeling. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he sensed something was wrong. Of course, the problem could be that he’d been up all last night, working with Jacob and the task force, trying their best to track down Esther Stowe. But she was still out there somewhere. Either dead or alive.

  When he came out of the elevator on the second floor, he immediately realized the staff was in a frenzy. He’d never seen so many hospital personnel running up and down the halls. The minute he reached the nurses’ station, the nurse on duty recognized him.

  “Oh, Agent Sloan, thank God you’re here.” The nurse wrung her hands nervously. “I called Sheriff Butler and he’s on his way to the hospital right now.”

  Fear grabbed Dallas by the gut and squeezed tight. “Is Genny all right?”

  “I don’t know how it happened. None of
us saw a thing.”

  Dallas broke into a run. As he neared Genny’s room, he noticed a hospital security officer talking to several white-clad women. When he tried to shove past them to get into Genny’s room, the security officer grabbed his arm.

  “Deputy Willingham is unconscious. One of the nurses found him under Miss Madoc’s bed.”

  Dallas grabbed the officer by his shirtfront and glared directly into his eyes. “Where is Genny?”

  “We don’t know. She’s gone.”

  Dallas released the officer, then shoved past him and into Genny’s room. The first thing he spotted was the used syringe lying on the bed.

  God damn it to hell! The killer had Genny!

  When Genny regained consciousness, she didn’t know where she was or what had happened; then her eyelids flew open and everything came back to her all at once. A frigid chill racked her body. She was cold. Terribly cold.

  She glanced around, trying to see if she recognized her surroundings. She was in a cave. A campfire sparkled golden orange in the shadowy darkness within the cave, but was too far away to warm her. When she tried to move, she discovered her hands and feet were bound. She tried to open her mouth, but couldn’t because she’d been gagged. Looking down at herself, she realized she was still wearing the same flimsy hospital gown, and a blanket covered her from her waist to her feet.

  She searched all around as best she could, but saw no sign of another human being. Where is he? Had he brought her here and left her? If so, he would come back before dawn tomorrow morning.

  She had to contact Dallas. And tell him what? she asked herself. You don’t know where you are.

  Genny rolled over, flipping the blanket off, and continued rolling across the cold, damp ground inside the cave. Like a baby unable to walk and undecided about crawling, she rolled over repeatedly until she reached the cave’s entrance. Gazing up at the sky, she realized it was already noon. The sun shone high overhead. As she lay flat on her back, she scanned the area outside. Trees. Trees. And more trees. She was in the middle of the woods somewhere, probably on the mountain, since the hills were pocked with caves. Off in the distance, toward the east, she noticed a clearing. Think, Genny, think. Does anything look familiar?

  The town was overrun with panicked folks being filmed by local and out-of-town TV cameramen. What appeared to be law enforcement officers from nearby towns and from the state merged half a block away at the courthouse. Jazzy tried to make her way through the horde that lined the streets. She’d heard that not only was Esther Stowe still missing, but that Genny Madoc had been kidnapped from her hospital bed. If Genny was missing, why hadn’t Jacob called her? She had tried to call him, but the lines were busy and his voice mail had responded when she’d tried his cell phone.

  As she walked up the street, she noticed the mass of people all around the courthouse. She thought she caught a glimpse of Jamie, but when she looked again, he was gone.

  After fighting her way through the crush of people, she saw Bobby Joe Harte in the parking lot at the rear of the courthouse, guarding the back entrance that led directly to the sheriff’s office. She jumped several times to lift herself above the milling crowd and shouted his name. Bobby Joe waved her forward as he ordered the people blocking her path to let her through.

  Before she reached her destination, a TV reporter thrust a microphone in her face. “Miss, may I ask your name?”

  “Get out of my way,” Jazzy warned him.

  “Why is it that the deputy over there is going to let you through when he’s holding everyone else at bay?” the reporter asked.

  “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in Cherokee Pointe?” Jazzy asked him.

  “Whit Conners from WHRB in Chattanooga.”

  “Well, Whit, get the hell away from me and tell your cameraman”—she pointed her index finger at the burly six-footer who had the camera aimed directly at her—“to stop filming me or I’ll take his toy away from him and stomp it to pieces.”

  “Are you a witness of some sort?” Whit just wouldn’t give up. “People all over eastern Tennessee are interested in what’s happening here in your little town. We understand there have been three gruesome murders recently and now two more women are missing.”

  “She’s Jazzy Talbot,” a voice in the crowd shouted. “Her best friend is our local psychic, the one who was kidnapped right out of her hospital room this morning.”

  Jazzy managed to break through a line of newspaper reporters stationed in front of Bobby Joe and successfully managed to leave Whit Conners behind.

  “What’s going on?” Jazzy asked Bobby Joe, shouting to be heard over the din of voices.

  “Go on inside and talk to Jacob,” Bobby Joe said. “We haven’t had time to get in touch with you. This all came down so fast.”

  “Just tell me this—is Genny missing? Was she kidnapped from the hospital?”

  Bobby Joe nodded.

  Jazzy felt as if she were going to throw up. The killer had Genny! Oh, God! Oh, God!

  Chapter 28

  “Going somewhere, my precious?”

  Genny gazed up at the man towering over her, a sick smile on his handsome face. Her stomach knotted painfully. Even when Dallas and Jacob had put him on their suspects list, she hadn’t seriously considered the possibility that he was the killer. She thought she knew him, thought he was her friend, and had actually believed he loved her. Using his own psychic skills, though they were limited, he had apparently been able to block any negativity coming from his mind and thus made it even more difficult for her to read him correctly. And as a general rule, she tried not to delve into other people’s minds without their permission. If only she had gone against her principles and looked beyond the gentle, sweet facade he presented to the world.

  He reached down and removed the gag from her mouth. “Scream all you want up here; no one will hear you.”

  “Why?” she asked. “Tell me why?”

  Holding the back of her gown, he dragged her across the ground and into the cave. Tiny shards of sharp pebbles and jagged edges of windblown twigs scratched her back, buttocks, and legs. Clamping her mouth closed, she endured the pain, determined not to cry out, not to give him the satisfaction of hearing her weep. He hauled her toward the campfire, then released her.

  “You, Genevieve Madoc, are my crowning achievement,” he told her. “After Mother died, I set out to prove to her—and to the world—that I was not a weakling, that although my own psychic powers were limited, I would find a way to become the most powerful of all earthly spirits. I’ve searched for years, choosing my victims carefully, picking the ones who possessed special powers.”

  Genny swallowed hard. “All of your victims weren’t gifted. Only the fifth victims.”

  His smile widened. His pale crystal blue eyes sparkled with wicked delight. “Very astute observation. Your lover is a smart man, but not smart enough to catch me.”

  “Dallas will get you, even if he has to spend the rest of his life tracking you down. You’ll never be free from him.”

  “Once I obtain your power, I will be beyond any manmade law. No one can touch me then.”

  “And just how do you intend to obtain my power?” she asked, knowing all along that he intended to kill her, sacrifice her as he had all the other poor women.

  “You must be sacrificed, of course.” He reached down and ran his fingertips from her neck to her belly.

  She cringed, hating his touch, fearing his next move. “And after I’m sacrificed?”

  “Mother taught me that a person’s power lies in the heart, and that those unique gifts given to only a special few—such as she—can be transferred to another if you consume their heart.”

  Genny closed her eyes. Do not let the fear overtake you. Concentrate on finding a way to escape and on making a telepathic link with Dallas. If you panic, if you allow the sheer horror of his intentions to paralyze you, he will win—and you will lose your life.

  “Tell me more about your mother
.” Whatever demons plagued him, they had come to life at his mother’s knee.

  “Mother was a powerful witch.” He knelt beside Genny. “She was a true high priestess.” He laughed, the sound deceptively soft. “Nothing like Esther Stowe, who was a phony. That stupid little witch was nothing than a whore trying to pass herself off as a priestess.”

  “Your mother was—” When he pulled a knife from his pants pocket, she tensed. “Your mother was very important to you. You must have loved her a great deal.”

  He grabbed the top edge of Genny’s hospital gown, lowered the knife and sliced the thin material from neck to hem. Genny shivered, more from aversion and foreboding than from the wintry cold.

  “Loved her?” He cocked his head to one side as if listening to someone speaking. “Yes, Mother, I should tell her, shouldn’t I?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “I was afraid of her. I feared her power. I was a great disappointment to her, you see, because my talents paled in comparison to hers. She thought I would be a great sorcerer, but alas, I was not, but I proved myself useful to her. I assisted her with the sacrifices and learned from her the importance of the fifth victim. She always sacrificed five animals, the fifth with the greatest power. And sometimes, if I was a very good little boy, she would allow me a bite of the fifth animal’s heart.”

  “But your mother didn’t kill people, did she? She didn’t do what you’re doing.”

  He knelt over her until his face was up against hers. “That’s why I will be more powerful than she ever was. I’ll give her what she always wanted.” He licked Genny’s face. “I sacrificed four animals when Mother died, and then when I cut out her heart and ate it, I thought her power would transfer to me, but it didn’t. I realized then that the first four had to be humans also. Otherwise it wouldn’t work.”

  He was completely insane!

  Dallas, can you hear me. Please, hear me. I’m in a cave somewhere in the mountains. Open your heart, and listen. I need you. Come to me. Follow my thoughts and you’ll find me.