by Angela Kay
Careful not to go too far over the speed limit, he went downtown to the hospital and parked in the parking deck.
Shaun had arrived at the same time, and they found the victim together. Aidan introduced himself and Shaun to the Richmond County police lieutenant and learned his name was Dirk Powell.
The victim lay on the bed wearing a hospital gown. Her eyes were covered with white patches and her body held deep gashes and bruises. Aidan made notice of the taser marks on the side of her neck.
They were told that along with broken ribs and bones, her corneas were damaged. However, they were confident she'd heal with little to no loss of her eyesight. The doctors kept her hooked up with tubes, and the room was filled with the rhythmic beeping of machines.
“Has she said anything?” Shaun asked Lieutenant Powell.
The bald headed older man shook his head. He crossed his arms over his chest, puffed his stomach out and put a scowl on his lips.
The look on his face as he glanced between Shawn and Aidan said that he didn’t like federal agents at all.
Aidan walked to the side of the bed and leaned in.
“She won’t answer.”
Aidan eyed at the lieutenant and said, “Maybe not, but I’m going to try.”
He looked at the victim.
“Ma’am.” Aidan waited. “I’m Special Agent Aidan O’Reilly. Can you hear me?”
A few minutes crawled by and he began to suspect she was unconscious—either from the pain or the drugs the doctors had given her. But soon, her head moved slightly, and she released a weak moan. Her hands jerked on the bed.
From the corner of Aidan's eye, he noticed Lieutenant Powell taking a step forward. Aidan held out his hand, a silent gesture for him to stop.
“Ma’am?” he repeated in a low voice. “Can you hear me?”
She parted her mouth to speak, but her words were almost inaudible. He leaned in closer.
Getting nothing valid from her, he decided the medicine the doctors put her on sent her back into a deep sleep.
The doctor came in to inform them they needed to leave and allow his patient to rest. Aidan handed him his card and requested that he call as soon as she was able to answer questions.
In the hallway, Aidan told Lieutenant Powell that under no circumstances should the public know the victim was still alive. He still wasn't sure of the circumstances, so Aidan didn't want to risk that the offender would come to the hospital and finish her off.
After much prodding and threatening to speak with the lieutenant’s superior, he finally agreed to say nothing until the Bureau authorized him.
After he stalked away, Shaun asked Aidan what the girl had said.
“I couldn’t make it out.”
“How did she manage to escape?”
Without answering, Aidan looked over at the closed door, where their victim rested.
“We need to have men stationed outside this door,” he said. “I don’t want her to be alone for even a second. Maybe he let her escape for reasons we don't know, maybe she was lucky. But until we find him, that woman’s life’s in danger.”
“I’ll call it in,” Shaun replied, grabbing his phone from its holder clipped on the side of his jeans.
After the call was made, they made their way to the waiting room, where the witnesses who brought Carol to the emergency room sat. Although the police already questioned them, Aidan want to be certain nothing was overlooked.
The woman, possibly in her early forties, sat in the corner of the room, her arms wrapped around a little girl. Aidan guessed her to be close to ten. She blinked repeatedly like she was trying to stay awake.
Aidan introduced himself and asked, “Can you tell us what happened?”
The woman—Sheila Grayson—told them she and her daughter were passing through town. The girl, Kayla, saw someone running wildly through the streets, screaming “somebody help.” She'd brought it to her mother's attention. The woman tripped but didn't get up. They saw she was sobbing and didn't seem to be able to move. Sheila told her daughter to stay in the car as she went to see what was going on.
The only thing the woman would tell her was that a man was trying to kill her.
She begged Sheila to help her, so she assisted her to the car and rushed her to the hospital. By the time they'd arrived, the woman was hardly breathing.
After Aidan finished writing his notes, he thanked Sheila, then knelt to be at eye level with Kayla. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he offered her a smile.
“You're a hero, Kayla. You saved someone's life tonight.”
She smiled sleepily, and Aidan rose to his feet. He told Sheila she and her daughter were free to leave and if they were needed for anything else, they'd contact her.
“I’m going to stay here for a while,” he told Shaun as the witnesses left the waiting room. “I have all the information I need with me, and I want to be here when she wakes up.”
Shaun said he wanted to wait around as well, and when the guards Shaun had requested arrived, they informed them they'd be in the waiting room if the victim woke.
53
A FEW HOURS later, Aidan woke to the neck pain he'd earned from sleeping in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Shaun was next to him, sipping a cup of coffee. Aidan realized his head was resting on his shoulder.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Shaun said.
Aidan sat up and flexed his neck and arms, bones popping as he did.
“You make an awful pillow,” he told Shaun. “Any news on our live one?”
Shaun shook his head.
Aidan glanced at his phone to see that Cheyenne had called five different times.
Great.
He was in trouble now.
As Aidan went to pour himself a cup of coffee, he called her back.
When she answered, she began spewing angry words at him, demanding to know why didn't he come home, and did he know how worried she was when she woke in the middle of the night to find only a note saying he'd touch base with her later.
Once he was able to get a word in edgewise, Aidan apologized for his haste and explained the reason he ran out.
She stuttered as though she wanted to remain angry, but ended by saying, “Well, as long as you're safe.”
A doctor entered the waiting room, and Aidan recognized him from the night before, so he told Cheyenne he was sorry for his disappearing act, and he'd talk to her later.
The doctor acknowledged them and informed them that the victim's name was Carol Rider, and she was now alert. He'd allow them to question her but warned them not to stay with her for long.
Shaun thanked him and Aidan followed him into the room where a nurse was checking Carol’s vitals. Seeing the agents, she offered a friendly smile and reminded them of the doctor’s orders.
“She’s got to rest. She has a long road of recovery ahead of her.”
“We understand,” Aidan assured the nurse.
Again, she smiled and left the room.
Aidan stepped over to Carol’s bedside. “I’m Agent O’Reilly, and my partner is Agent Henderson.”
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Rider?” Shaun asked.
She coughed. She put her fingers over the eye patches and said, “Like I’ve been through Hell and back.”
“You’re very brave,” Aidan assured her. “And very lucky.”
Carol shook her head. “I don’t feel very lucky.” Her voice was soft and scratchy.
“Do you remember anything?” Aidan knew it was best not to press her. Memory can be very fragile, especially during a traumatic experience.
“I had a flat tire,” she recalled. “A man came to help. He said his name was...” She hesitated, then said, “John.”
“Do you remember if you’ve seen him before?” Shaun asked.
“I don’t know,” Carol said. “Maybe.”
Aidan wrote the name in his pad but knew the offender most likely made it up. He asked Carol what he looked like, and she said she wasn't sure.
“My mind's fuzzy. I can't remember him much. I think his hair and beard were gray, but I'm not positive.” She let out a series of coughs and again put her hand over her eye patches. Aidan assumed it made her feel uneasy.
She went on to say he used a taser on her and she passed out from the pain.
“It felt like I was being electrocuted.”
“Then what happened?”
“I woke up and could tell I was moving. But it was dark where I was. Then we stopped moving and a second later, I saw him standing over me. I couldn’t move or talk. He'd taped my mouth, and my hands and feet were tied. He picked me up and carried me.”
“Do you know where you were?”
She whimpered slightly, and a single tear escaped from underneath her eye patch. “I don’t know. He opened a door. He carried me through a dark room. Then he opened another door and turned on the lights. It was so bright. I couldn’t see.”
That'd explain the extensive damage to her eyes.
She paused as she tried to think, but was interrupted when one of the men stationed outside the door peeked his head in.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but there’s a man outside. He says he’s her husband? A Staff Sergeant Rider.”
“Frankie? Frankie, where is he?” Carol whimpered.
“Let him in,” Aidan replied.
A second later, a man wearing an army uniform pushed his way into the room.
“Baby,” he exclaimed. He cursed. “What did he do to you, baby?” Frankie sat on the edge of the bed and leaned down to wrap his wife in a hug. “I was so worried when you weren't home. Are you okay?”
Through her tears and scratchy voice, Carol told him she was.
Aidan introduced himself and promised they would do their best to find the man who hurt his wife, and that they only had a few more questions.
He refocused his attention on Carol.
“What happened after he took you to the bright room?”
“He cut me loose. He said he was going to let me go.” She whimpered again, her words catching in her throat. “But he tased me, then hit me. He hit me so much, I just wanted him to stop. I begged him.”
“How did you escape?” Shaun asked.
She hesitated. Her husband lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her.
“He had a phone call,” she remembered. “I heard him step out of the room. I was hurting so much. But I managed to find his taser. I don't know how. And when he came back, I used it on him, and then took off. I heard him come after me, but I kept going.”
Well.
That's a fighter.
“You have no idea where he took you?” Aidan pressed.
Carol shook her head. “Wait.”
Aidan and Shaun watched her closely as she reflected on what Aidan imagined to be the worst few hours of her life.
“I saw a sign...I saw...Broad Street. I came out of a large building. The smell inside was like sawdust. Then I saw colorful windows.” Her head wavered around the room as though she wasn't sure where to look. “That's all I can remember.”
“Colorful?” Shaun echoed. “Like stained? Maybe a church?”
“Maybe,” Carol replied. “I'm sorry, everything's jumbled. All I kept thinking was 'I've got to get away.'“
Shaun regarded Aidan. “The St. Mary's Cathedral is on Broad Street. There's an old warehouse across the street from it.”
“That's good,” Aidan told Carol. He put a hand on her shoulder. “You did real good.”
“When I noticed she was missing,” her husband began. He seemed to be in a daze. “I called around, trying to find her. I was told a serial killer had been killing women around town. A buddy of mine said all the victims were blonde.” He glanced from Shaun to Aidan. “It was him, wasn’t it?”
Aidan looked into his eyes and saw the worry. He empathized with him and nodded, informing the staff sergeant they were posting a few men outside the room for Carol’s protection. He assured him that because of his wife, they could be closer to finding him.
The doctor would take a look at her eyes later, and if he could, he’d remove the patches. Then Carol may be able to speak to a forensic artist. Even if he had worn a disguise, it would give them something to work with. Maybe he wore the same disguise at work. Maybe someone had seen him hanging around.
54
SO FAR, THERE hadn’t been any news report regarding the abduction of the girl that had gotten away.
But that didn't mean he was in the clear.
The police were tricky.
They seemed to enjoy hiding details in order to draw them out.
Over the last few days, he’d been watching as Jordan Blake reported Good Samaritan stories, now that he was back at WJFX. It made him laugh that a talent like Jordan's was being used in such a feeble way.
He'd been watching him, and he could tell the reporter was aching for actual news.
And the people of Augusta didn't know he remained in town. They went about their business as carefree as they did before he entered the picture.
That needed to change.
“Daddy,” Jamie interrupted his thoughts. “What are you sitting all alone in the dark for?”
He looked at his daughter, who peeked into the room. She wasn’t supposed to enter his office, ever. But he didn’t yell at her. Instead, he smiled at his daughter and set her in his lap.
She put her right arm around his neck.
“Well,” he said with a sigh, “Daddy's just trying to work out an issue he's been having.”
“Like what?” Her eyes twinkled as only a child of eight would.
“Some bad men are trying to keep a secret. Something everybody needs to know.”
Jamie frowned. “The bad men?”
He nodded slowly. “The police and the FBI.” He positioned her on his lap so he could see her face better, using the glow of the hall light. “You see, people do things in this world. Things some people believe are wrong. It’s the police's job to tell us about those things.”
“But they don't?”
“No,” he told her. “They don't. They keep it a secret. And secrets are a killer. So, I'm trying to figure out how I am going to stop them.”
“Oh,” she said.
He knew she didn't understand.
But she would.
As she got older, she would understand it all. He'd make sure.
He kissed her cheek and told her to go find Mommy and see what she was up to. Before she jumped off his lap, he asked her to not tell her mother about what they discussed.
“We don't want her to worry, right?” he asked.
Jamie dutifully shook her head.
“That's my girl.”
As his daughter skipped out of the room, closing the door behind her, he turned on the desk lamp, then removed a new burner phone from the drawer to send Jordan Blake a quick text.
It wasn't right the public didn't know about the girl that had managed to get away.
So he decided to help the good reporter out.
In the process, he might even manage to help himself. It might help him find the woman. Then he could finish what he started.
In the meantime, he called around for a new point of operation.
After an hour, he'd finally found the perfect place. The owners were subletting while on summer vacation in Europe, so they didn't need to meet with him or anything. He promised to wire the money to their account this afternoon.
He’d requested for someone to leave the key under a rock for him.
The house was in the heart of the West Lake subdivision and had a basement.
Talk about hiding in plain sight.
55
THE WAREHOUSE ON Broad Street was formerly an electronics store. It had gone out of business six months before and sat empty until two months ago—shortly after the offender went off the grid.
According to the leasers, they needed to rent it out, so when a man contacted them, offering double the asking price to remain off th
e books, they jumped at it.
The man in question went by the name Harlan Groves.
They ran the name in the system and found the real Harlan Groves had died nine years ago from a biking accident.
They were now suited and prepared to raid the warehouse.
Shaun and Aidan both agreed that chances were the offender had vanished again.
As Aidan prepared to enter the building, he found his heart was lodged in his throat. His hands began to sweat even more than was normal for a raid. He worked on steadying his breathing.
“You okay?” Shaun asked as he checked his weapon.
Aidan did the same, although he'd done so five minutes ago. He nodded, unsure he'd be able to speak.
His mind replayed their last encounter with the offender and the dreams he continued to have.
Aidan had lived with this investigation for so long, he'd begun to wonder if he'd ever escape the nightmares.
He felt strong hands grip his left shoulder.
“I'm right behind you,” Shaun told him.
“I'm fine,” Aidan insisted. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Shaun echoed. Aidan glanced at him and saw in his eyes that Shaun knew he wasn't, but chose not to press the issue.
Aidan chambered his round. “Let's do this.”
Shaun motioned for a few agents to slink around the back.
It had a chained lock, so it made sense no one was inside, but still, they were prepared for anything. After all, they thought Thomas Blake's house was empty.
Using the battering ram, the agents rushed the door, splintering it open. Daylight peered through, showing just enough of the space.
There was nothing but old boxes and dusty shelves. Some shelves still hung in place, others leaned against the walls. The agents used flashlights to scan the room until they spotted another door.
The blood pulsed in Aidan's ear as he and Shaun stood at either side.
Once they crashed through the door, they entered a smaller room.
It was empty.
“Here's a light switch,” Shaun said.
Carol had said when her abductor turned on the lights, it had blinded her eyes. Aidan prepared himself for what may happen when Shaun switched it.
