The Prettiest One: A Thriller

by James Hankins

  Caitlin heard those words and felt relief that, at the very least, she wasn’t a double murderer. She hadn’t killed the guy at the warehouse, after all. She’d only witnessed his murder.

  “What I want to know is,” Bookerman said, “where the hell you went. Me and Martin split up and covered a lot of ground pretty quick, but you must have been flying, girl. I probably got a bit cocky,” he added with a grin, “wasting time yelling about all the things we were gonna do to you when we caught you.” He shook his head.

  “My God, Caitlin,” Josh said. “That must have been terrifying for you.”

  “Sure sounds like it,” she replied, relieved that she didn’t remember it. It did indeed sound frightening.

  “But you disappeared into thin air,” Bookerman said, “and now, somehow, you found me here.” He seemed truly impressed. “You must have waited us out while we were looking for you, then followed me here, but I can’t figure where you were. We looked everywhere.”

  Caitlin shook her head. “I was in your trunk. When I ran outside, I saw your car, so I popped the trunk, climbed in, and held the lid closed until you got in and drove home.”

  “Seriously? You’ve got balls, girl.”

  “I didn’t want to lose you. Plus, I figured you wouldn’t look in your trunk when you left.”

  Caitlin sensed Josh and Bix looking at her and not at the screen.

  “My God, Caitlin,” Josh said.

  “Bookerman’s right, Katie,” Bix said. “That took balls.”

  Caitlin kept her eyes on the screen.

  Bookerman was shaking his head. “I gotta hand it to you. You’re something else. I actually drove around a bit looking for you, then my arm started hurting and I figured I’d leave the rest of the looking to Martin so I could get home and clean this bullet wound.”

  He looked down at the superficial wound on his shoulder. “Yeah,” Bookerman added, “you’re crazy but brave. Not too smart, though.”

  He took another step toward Caitlin and she raised the gun. Bookerman stopped.

  “So now what?” Bookerman asked. “You followed me to the warehouse for some reason. You working with that cheating scumbag I killed? Were you two planning on double-crossing us?” He paused for a moment. “Hey, maybe it wasn’t me you followed from the fight club. Maybe you followed Martin’s car and were there when he picked up the idiot with the goddamn fake hands, then followed them to the warehouse. Is that it? Who is he, your boyfriend?”

  “I’m not working with anyone. And I followed you, not the other guy.”

  “And so you came here to what? Shoot me? You didn’t even bring a gun of your own.”

  After a pause, Caitlin said, “I’m not actually sure why I followed you here. But when I looked in your window, I saw her,” she said, nodding to the naked woman. “And I saw the gun on the table, so . . .”

  “You’re not sure why you followed me?” Bookerman seemed confused by that.

  Caitlin shrugged. “Not really. I’m not sure why I followed you here tonight. Or even why I’ve been looking for you at all. But when I saw you a couple of weeks ago . . .”

  Caitlin trailed off. She looked uncertain about what to do. She had the gun in one hand and her phone in the other. While she seemed to be debating her next move, Bookerman snapped his fingers. “Holy shit,” he said. “It’s you. How the hell . . . ?” He sounded even more perplexed than before. “Different hair, so it took me a minute, but it’s the same face. It’s really you. The one that got away. The prettiest one. That’s what he used to call you, you know. My father went on about you all the time. From behind bars . . . all those years, he never forgot you. And I had you, goddamn it, I actually had you for a little while. But I lost you, you slippery little bitch. That was a hell of a bump you gave me.” He pointed to his head, just above his hairline. “I should have remembered I kept a tire iron on the floor. I was only out for a few seconds, but you’d already taken my car.”

  He shook his head. “I looked for you ever since March, and then you show up here all on your own. Unbelievable.” He chuckled. “I don’t know how the hell you found me,” he said, no longer chuckling, “but I guess you want your revenge, huh?”

  “I want to know what happened next,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Tell me what happened after I took your car.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I have a gun, that’s why.”

  He shrugged. “After you got away, I figured you’d go right to the cops, so I stole someone else’s car and took off. I would have gone back and taken yours, but I didn’t know if anyone had seen us.”

  He paused again.

  Caitlin raised the gun an inch. Bookerman shrugged again and said, “I drove like hell back here and planned to split, right? Pack a few things and take off. But then they started saying on the news that you disappeared. They found your car but not you. So I realized you didn’t go to the cops after all. Who the hell knew why, but you didn’t. So I kept my eye on the news for a while, and the days went by, and you were just . . . gone. You went missing. Weird. So I had to forget about you . . . but I couldn’t.” He smiled. “I didn’t. But after all that, it’s you who finds me.”

  Caitlin looked lost in thought. Bookerman moved a little closer.

  “So why didn’t you go to the cops?” he asked.

  Caitlin looked up. “Why did you grab me?”

  “You don’t know?”

  A step closer. Caitlin didn’t seem to notice. She looked caught up in the story.

  “Because you’re the one that got away. The prettiest one.”

  He took two sudden steps toward her and she quickly raised the gun, which had lowered an inch or two. She pointed it at his midsection. Bookerman, just three feet from her now, hesitated. Caitlin watched him. Something changed in her face then. Bookerman made a quick move and Caitlin pulled the trigger. The woman on the sofa bed screamed. Bookerman staggered back, holding his stomach.

  “Holy shit,” he said as he fell out of frame.

  Caitlin watched herself on the TV screen, watched herself shoot a man dead. A horrible man who did horrible things to women. A man who had stalked Caitlin and even tried to abduct her. And she had killed him. She wished she hadn’t, but she’d had to do it, right? He’d been about to rush her . . . hadn’t he?

  On the screen, Caitlin let the gun hang at her side. She stared down for a few moments at the body that lay on the floor below the camera’s line of sight. Something changed in her face. Her features went . . . slack. Her eyes, which had been hard just moments ago when she had stared down Mike Bookerman, looked empty now, as though awareness had leaked out of them through tiny cracks. Almost mechanically, she turned her head toward the naked woman handcuffed to the bed frame, then her eyes roamed slowly around the room for a moment before settling on the table in the foreground. She walked across the room, giving the body a wide berth, and picked up something small from the table and tossed it toward the woman. It jingled when it hit the mattress. The handcuff key on a metal ring.

  Caitlin walked around the body again. Seemingly without thinking, she dropped the gun into the black canvas bag on the table by the sofa; grabbed the bag by its straps; and, without a backward glance, walked slowly out of the room. A moment later, a door opened and closed offscreen.

  Josh crossed to the TV and turned it off. He shut off the camera, too; disconnected its cable and cord; and stuffed it all back into its box. Caitlin watched him, unsure how to feel. Now she knew. They all did. Josh sat beside her again and took her hand. Bix had never let go of her other one.

  “You rode to Bookerman’s house in his trunk, right?” Bix said. Without waiting for a response, he said, “You left your car at the warehouse. Did you walk back to your car?”

  Caitlin shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess.”

  “That’s almost three miles.”

  That explained why Caitlin’s feet had been so tired when she got there.

  “You okay
, hon?” Josh asked.

  “You had to do it, Katie,” Bix said.

  “Did I?” she asked. She wasn’t being argumentative. She genuinely wondered.

  “He was making his move on you,” Bix said.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “I mean, maybe it looked that way. He definitely moved. But maybe he was trying to raise his hands. Maybe he was going to back away from me.”

  Bix shook his head. “He was going for you. No doubt. Right, Josh?”

  Josh didn’t hesitate. “He was, Caitlin. You saw it. We all did.”

  Caitlin wondered how a jury was going to see it. They would probably be sympathetic. The man was heinous, and the fact that he was stalking Caitlin, and had even admitted to trying to abduct her, would certainly play in her favor. But a prosecutor would argue that instead of going to the police, Caitlin had gone to see Bookerman. And instead of calling the police when she had the phone in one of her hands, she shot him with the gun she had in her other.

  “I’m tired,” Caitlin said. “You guys must be, too.” She stood. “Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow’s probably going to be a long day.”

  Bix walked to the door and opened it. Then he turned and looked back at her. “This may not make you feel any better, Katie, but this world is a far better place without Mike Bookerman walking around in it.” Then he closed the door behind him.

  Maybe Bix is right about that, Caitlin thought, but she couldn’t convince herself that it had been her place to correct the problem. If she had been acting in self-defense, maybe she could live with her actions. Maybe. If not . . . well, she was going to have to live with herself anyway, but it would be a lot harder.

  Life was going to get hard soon either way, though. She’d be behind bars tomorrow. In the morning she was taking herself and the video camera to the nearest police station.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHOPS RAPPED HIS KNUCKLES ON the reservation counter of the Eagle Inn Motel. He heard movement in the small back office, then a young woman came through the door sporting a smile far brighter than Chops expected from a motel night clerk, though it faltered slightly when she saw Chops. He wasn’t offended. He wasn’t a good-looking man and he knew it. In fact, some considered him creepy-looking, and that was undoubtedly how the young woman viewed him. He smiled, knowing it wasn’t a great smile, but he hoped it would disarm her. It seemed to work, because her smile regained its former brightness, and she asked, “Looking for a room?”

  “Actually, I’m looking for some friends of mine,” Chops said.

  “Oh, are they guests here?”

  Chops tried for a sheepish look. “I feel like an idiot, but I can’t remember where they said they’re staying. I’m supposed to meet them but I forgot the name of the motel.” He pulled out his cell phone. “I have pictures of them, if you . . .” He trailed off.

  “Oh, well, I’m sorry,” the clerk said. “I’m not really sure I can help you. We have to respect the privacy . . . sir, are you okay?”

  Chops was fine. He was staring at a piece of paper among other sheets of paper and flyers tacked to a bulletin board on the wall behind the counter. The piece of paper that had drawn his interest was pinned on top of several others, indicating that it had been put there fairly recently. Chops could see the three photos clearly. Two of the faces unmistakably belonged to the redhead and her boyfriend. The third man must be the one the one-eyed guy said was with them. Above the pictures, someone had written in black marker, Police are interested in these people. Call 911. Chops pointed to the flyer.

  “When did the police leave that?” he asked.

  “What?” She turned. “Hmm, I don’t know. It wasn’t here yesterday, though. Maybe it came in earlier today, or tonight before I got on. I only came in half an hour ago.”

  As she looked at the flyer, her eyes went wide. And then Chops knew. They were here. He’d found them on his third try. He casually looked around the lobby and saw no security cameras.

  “What’s your name?” he asked her.

  She turned, her eyes still wide.

  “Your name?” he prompted.

  “Betsy.”

  “They’re here, aren’t they, Betsy? They checked in within the last half hour.”

  She nodded. “That one guy did. He rented two rooms.”

  “But you didn’t call the police, did you? Because you didn’t see that flyer until just now, am I right?”

  “Yeah. I need to call now.”

  She started to pick up the phone, but Chops reached over the counter and put his big, pale hand over hers. Gently. She pulled her hand away.

  “I’m afraid I lied to you before, Betsy,” he said. “I’m not here looking for friends of mine. I’m a bounty hunter. You know what that is?”

  “I think so.”

  “I get paid to find certain people the police are looking for. But if the police find them first, I don’t get paid. I need to be the one to bring them in, you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “Good, that’s good,” he said. He took out his wallet and put five twenties on the counter. “Here’s a hundred dollars. I’ll make a lot more than that when I hand them over to the cops, so I can spare it. All I need you to do is not call the cops.”

  Betsy frowned. “Won’t I get into trouble if I don’t call?”

  “Oh, you misunderstand. It’s okay for you to call the cops. I just need you to wait until after I get these three suspects into handcuffs. Once I do that, I’ll give you the go-ahead to call the police. All I need is a few minutes. And when the cops get here, I’ll tell them that I followed the suspects here and captured them in their room. You can pretend we never even spoke. That way, you did your duty and called the police. The only difference is that I’ll be the one who gets credit for capturing them, so I’ll be able to get paid. Sound okay to you?” He smiled again and hoped it didn’t creep her out.

  “And I’ll be able to call the police? You promise?”

  “I want you to call them. That way I won’t have to. I’ll be able to keep my eye on my prisoners while you call and tell the cops to meet me here.”

  Betsy chewed her lower lip. Chops nudged the money toward her.

  “You promise you’ll let me know when I can call them?” she asked.

  “If you promise to wait until I give you the word, I promise to let you know when to make the call. It will be just a few minutes, Betsy. I’m really good at what I do.”

  After another moment of hesitation, she picked up the money. Chops smiled again.

  “What rooms are they in?” he asked.

  Bix lay on his back staring at the ceiling. He hated leaving the woman he loved with another man while he went to his own room to spend the night alone. Sure, Caitlin was different than she had been before, he couldn’t deny that. Nor could he deny that he didn’t know Caitlin nearly as well as he knew Katie. But neither could he deny that he still loved her . . . that her departure from his world would leave a gaping wound in his life. He would have given anything for the chance to get to know Caitlin the way he’d known Katie. But that wasn’t going to happen. She was married. Oh, and she was going to be behind bars tomorrow once she turned herself in. He hoped he would at least get the chance to say a proper good-bye in the morning. He wished he’d been able to say a proper good night moments ago.

  He heard a soft knock on his door. He sat up, crossed to the door, and opened it. Caitlin gave him a quick, tentative smile and slipped past him into his room. He closed the door and faced her.

  Bix wondered if she had sneaked out of her room while Josh was showering or something.

  “Does he know you’re here?”

  She nodded.

  “Did you come here to tell me that you’re forgetting about all that ‘turning yourself in to the police’ nonsense and you’ve agreed to ditch the geek and run away with me?”

  “No,” she said, smiling ruefully.

  “I didn’t think so. Did you at least give it some thought?”


  “Not really, no.”

  “Katie . . . Caitlin . . . I know you want to do the right thing. I know you don’t want to live your life on the run. But I don’t want to see you go to prison, not even for a day.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “You’re gonna laugh,” he said, “but I still love you.”

  “I know that, too.”

  She didn’t say it back to him. He didn’t expect her to, but it’s not fun to say it and not hear it in return.

  “Why did you come over here?” he asked.

  She stepped close to him, reached up and touched his cheek, then raised herself up on her toes and touched her lips gently to his for a few wonderful seconds. When she pulled away, she kept her hand on his face a moment longer while she looked into his eyes. Then she left without a word and Bix heard the door close.

  She was really gone now. Tomorrow, she’d be in police custody. And if by some miracle she was acquitted at trial months from now, it was Josh she would be going back to. And if she was not acquitted, it would still be her husband waiting for her at the prison gates when her time was up years down the road.

  Bix was thirty-two years old and he knew without a doubt that the best days of his life were now behind him.

  He returned to the bed, lay on his back, and stared at the ceiling, trying not to listen to the muffled voices coming from next door.

  Chops looked up at the second floor of the motel from the shadows across the parking lot. The light was on in 206 and off in 207. He wasn’t sure who was in which room. He didn’t know exactly how this was going to work out, other than that just before he made his move, he’d have to go back to the registration desk and kill Betsy. He hadn’t done it before in case someone looking for a room came in before Chops was ready to get started. He had gambled that she wouldn’t call the cops before he told her she could. And even if she did, it would take her a few minutes to screw up her courage to do so and go back on her promise to Chops. She just seemed like that kind of a girl.