by D. K. Hood
“They have one in the barn and a survival shelter out back.” Rowley slid into the passenger seat and buckled up.
Kane started the engine then spun the SUV around and accelerated toward the open gate in the fence line. Ahead, the muddy frozen road split into two. “Which way?”
“Straight ahead. They use this track as a shortcut into town so it will be clear all the way. It takes about ten minutes longer but they won’t see us coming.” Rowley flicked him a glance. “What happens next? They’ll be armed—the place is built like a fortress.”
Kane slammed his foot down on the gas and the back wheels screamed before gripping. The SUV’s powerful engine roared and they sped down the icy road. As he drove at breakneck speed, pine trees and fences heavy with snow flashed by in a blur of colors. “They won’t be expecting us, so we have that in our favor.”
“They won’t come easy, and if they have Sheriff Alton, we’ll have a hostage situation.” Rowley cleared his throat. “Should I contact Walters for backup?”
Kane slid the vehicle around a tight bend in the road, fishtailed around a tree, plowed through bushes, then bounced back onto the track. “He is on the way to secure the prisoner and crime scene. We are on our own.”
“Have you handled this kind of situation before?” Rowley gave him a worried glance and gripped the edge of his seat.
Kane snorted. “Oh yeah. Many times. If they are holding Jenna against her will and have touched one damn hair on her head, I’ll take them down.” He swung the vehicle, barely missing the gatepost, and accelerated. The back wheels hit ice and the car drifted around a bend. He spun the wheel, sending snow flying, and took a shortcut through a row of pines before hitting the road. “Consider them dangerous; draw your weapon and use it if you’re threatened. Most important—stay behind me.”
“Roger that.”
Tree branches lashed the sides of the SUV and they bounced and slid along the uneven trail. Clues fell into place like completing a Rubik’s cube. “One thing.” Kane cleared his throat. “During the door-to door enquiries, the sheriff visited the Daniels’ ranch with Pete Daniels, is that correct?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you recall her mentioning anything about the visit when she got back to the station?” Kane slowed to take a ninety-degree turn into another gate, his attention locked ahead on the treacherous, winding road.
“Nothing specific.” Rowley tensed and gripped the door. “The next morning, she asked Daniels if the horse giving birth in the barn was okay. Apparently it was still having a hard time.”
Someone was, I bet. Although it was below freezing, a slick of nervous sweat trickled an annoying path down his back. After seeing the trail of battered corpses, instinct told him Jenna was in the hands of monsters. Alone, even with the extra moves he taught her, she would only be able to fight them for so long. He had to get to her—now.
“But why would they kill Pete?”
“If he mentioned he’d told us where to find Stan Clough and he was guarding the place this morning, they probably killed him to set up Clough for the murders. They would know we would find Mrs. Woodward in his freezer.” Kane slowed the racing vehicle to a crawl to lessen the noise of the engine. “They cut out his tongue because he talks too much.”
“Oh, shit.” Rowley shook his head. “The Daniels brothers are the last people I thought capable of torturing someone to death.”
“No doubt Jenna is of the same mind.” He wet his dry lips. “She insisted they are harmless. So much for intuition.”
The SUV skidded around the next turn, brushed against a fir tree, then continued along the icy road. Kane gritted his teeth and spun the wheel, gaining control, then gunned the engine. “I would bet the Daniels brothers arranged to meet Sarah at the Old Mitcham Ranch with the intention of torturing her to get information about what she’d discussed with the sheriff’s department. They would have gone there fully prepared to rape and kill her. Leaving her body was another warning to Jenna to keep her mouth shut.”
“Jesus.” Rowley scratched his dark hair. “Slow down. The ranch house is around the next bend.”
Kane pulled the SUV to the side of the road. “Any cover?”
“Yeah, this line of trees runs parallel to the house.”
“Grab the rifle and follow me. Shut the door real quiet.” Kane snatched his rifle from the back seat and dropped out the door. “Keep close. Any sign of trouble, fall back into the cover of the trees.” He moved out and, ducking into the woods, ran toward the ranch house. He recognized the two vehicles parked by the house but could not see the cruiser Jenna had driven. “We’ll try the house first.”
He approached the house from the side and edged to the back door, keeping under the windows. Rowley stuck to him like glue, and from the way he handled himself, Jenna had taught him well. The back door had three steps leading up to a small porch. He waved Rowley to one side then rapped on the door and listened. No sound came from inside. He grasped the door handle and turned. It swung open silently on a mudroom and he peered through into a warm, modern kitchen. “Mr. Daniels, are you there? This is the Black Rock Falls Sheriff’s Department. Can we have a word with you, please?”
No reply came from inside; no footsteps echoed on the polished wooden floor.
“I’m coming in.” Kane motioned for Rowley to watch his back, rested his rifle against the wall, then moved through the mudroom and into the house. “Mr. Daniels, this is Deputy Kane.” He stopped mid-stride at the sight of Jenna’s jacket and hat tossed onto the kitchen table, then turned back to Rowley. “She’s been here. I’m going to check the house; keep your wits about you.”
He drew his weapon and searched the rooms with speed, pushing open each door, then ran back to Rowley. “It’s clear but her coat is here. Where’s the root cellar?”
“In the barn.” Rowley pointed across a cleared area to the right of the house. “The survival shelter is under that building.” He indicated to a hut about twenty feet in the opposite direction.
Kane needed more time, and every second counted. “Okay, if you needed room to torture someone, which would you use?”
“Shit, I don’t know. It’s been years since Pete showed me around the place. They’re about the same size, I guess.” The expression in Rowley’s eyes turned frantic and his hand shook around the rifle. “The root cellar would be freezing at this time of the year and filled with provisions. My bet is the survival shelter. Its concealed in a dugout under the hut and soundproofed.”
Kane pushed him in that direction. “Go.”
He took off at a run, his attention moving in all directions. Six hours, six long hours, Jenna had been missing. How long she had been here made little difference. It took seconds to kill someone. Her only hope lay in the awful truth that these monsters enjoyed playing with their victims.
Fifty-Seven
At the idea of Dean raping her, a rush of adrenalin surged through her. The circulation in her hands and feet came back in a painful throb but she pushed back the need to clench and unclench her fingers. She had endured capture by a gang of drug dealers and survived only because they had used her as a bargaining chip. This time she was disposable. The Daniels’ other victims had endured prolonged torture before the coup de grâce, but was the cruelty part of a ritual or had these men sought information as well?
The heat from Dean’s muscular thighs burned into her flesh. She quashed the first instinct to move away and fight because his pleasure came from seeing fear, hearing his victims scream in terror. If he skinned her alive, she would not give him the pleasure. Opening her eyes a slit, she glanced down at his muscular body and noticed he had removed every hair from his flesh. He obviously did not plan to leave any DNA evidence but had overlooked the trace elements from the lubricated condom. She read the name on the condom packet he tossed next to her on the plastic sheet and it was the same brand, a Trojan Bareskin.
Terror marched a path down her spine. Trapped in the lion’s den, alone and defe
nseless, she had to act with deadly force and time her attack to the second. When Dean pushed up her knees and spread her thighs, she clenched her jaw and did not resist. The fool had done her a favor by placing her in a fighting stance. It would take a slight roll of her hips to deliver a death-blow kick to his throat. He moved closer and kneeled before her. Bile rushed up the back of her throat in disgust. She could smell him, and his male scent hung over her in a cloud of disgusting stench. When he fondled her with his rough hands, she wanted to scream, but her unresponsiveness had produced a negative effect on his virility.
“Damn it.” Dean sent a stinging slap across her cheek. “Wake up, bitch.”
“You’ve overdosed her and she’s probably in a coma.” Dirk peered into her eyes. “She should be awake by now.” He lifted and dropped her arm. “She’s out of it.”
“Get a bucket of water and pour it over her head. It’s freezing enough to wake the dead.” Dean moved on his knees to the edge of the mattress. “Don’t get any of it on me.”
Heart pounding, Jenna waited for Dirk to get to his feet and walk out of her periphery. When Dean’s attention moved to his brother, she bunched her muscles and rolled. The kick landed under Dean’s jaw, snapping his head back and crushing his larynx. He sprawled on the floor and his eyes rolled up, showing white. His body jerked and he let out one gurgling sigh. As Dirk turned around, she sprang to her feet and fell against the shelves. One hand closed around a can of beans, and she turned and took a fighting stance. “One down.”
The look of pure evil etched on Dirk’s face chilled her to the bone.
“I’m gonna slice you to the bone, bitch, then feed you to the pigs.” Dirk advanced toward her, drawing his hunting blade from the sheath at his waist.
She pitched the can at his head and missed. The missile bounced off his broad shoulder with as much impact as a feather. He gave a soft, menacing laugh and tossed the knife from hand to hand, regarding her with amused interest.
“That all you got?” Dirk made a figure eight with the blade. “I’m so gonna enjoy making you scream.”
“Bigger men than you have tried.” She moved her hands in an effort to distract him. “Your brother didn’t do so good, did he?”
“Listen to you, all mouth.” Dirk grinned as if enjoying a drink with her rather than fighting to the death. “Keep going, you’re making me horny, and when Dean regains consciousness, he’ll keep you alive for weeks to make sure you enjoy the full Daniels brothers’ experience.”
He hasn’t realized Dean is dead. I must keep him talking. “Kidnapping and torture is a hobby, is it? You like to rape both men and women?” She snorted. “And I thought Pete was all talk.”
“Pete?” Dirk shook his head. “That boy didn’t have the stomach to kill a chicken. Why do you think he lived in town?” He met her gaze and his lips curled into a predatory smile. “But before I cut out his tongue, he told us all about you.”
Shit. Poor Pete. The shock of his confession must have registered on her face.
“Yeah. He started squealing with the first punch.” Dirk chuckled and Jenna recognized the laugh as the one she had heard in the bushes the night at the Cattleman’s Hotel. “Like he squealed to you about us.”
No wonder I heard two sets of footsteps. “Pete did not discuss you with me at all. You killed him for nothing.”
“And now it’s your turn.” Dirk waved the blade. “You know, if I slid this knife in just the right spot in your spine, you wouldn’t die but you’d be paralyzed. We could have so much fun and you would have to lie there and take it.”
Jenna needed to keep him talking and his attention on her. “You like hurting people, don’t you, and raping women—but why Helms?”
“Jenna, Jenna, Jenna.” He shook his dark head slowly. “You think because we own all this land we’re rich, but when we killed our daddy he left us a mountain of debt. We needed cash and picked rich, lonely people to befriend. We’d ask real nice for their PIN but if they refused we used a little more persuasion.” He rolled his wide shoulders. “When we don’t need money, we look for something younger, some entertainment to pass a long night.”
“So which one of you started torturing and raping women first?”
“You talk too much, but when Dean wakes up we’ll give you a very personal demonstration. You’d be surprised how long a feisty woman like you can survive. Men last maybe a week but even girls Sarah’s age fight until we tire of them.” He gave a deep, sinister chuckle and smacked his lips. “Sarah enjoyed it too much and we would have kept her for a long time but we needed to show you what would happen if you didn’t stop investigating us.” His lips turned down. “We thought we had an understanding.”
Astonished, she gaped at him. He actually looked sorry. “I thought we were friends.”
“Exactly, and friends don’t squeal on friends.” He waved the knife as if cutting her throat. “Now you have to die.”
Keep him talking and catch him off guard. “I didn’t discuss you with anyone. I told Kane you are my friends.”
She noticed him relax a tad and needed to deal with him before he noticed Dean’s demise. Getting off the mattress was a priority. The uneven surface was a disadvantage, but to do so would mean advancing naked on a lunatic with a knife. Attack was the only option and he would not be expecting it.
“It’s too late.” Dirk ran the tip of his rough thumb down the blade. “You’re here. You know we killed Pete and Sarah.” His lips curled into a satanic smile. “And I want to cut you and hear you scream.”
Trembling with fear, she gritted her teeth. I’m not going down without a fight. On her right, she caught sight of Dean’s discarded T-shirt, and taking a step backward, she snatched it and wrapped it around her left arm. Since training with Kane, she excelled at hand-to-hand combat, but in a confined space, she would be up against Dirk’s superior strength. Keeping eye contact, she shuffled to the edge of the mattress, took a deep breath, and lunged at him.
Surprise gave her time to grab his wrist and slam the palm of her right hand up under his nose. The blow designed to push the cartilage into the brain would be a death blow to most people, but Dirk was as strong as a bull. He shook her off as if she was an annoying fly and staggered back with his back to the mattress, spraying drops of blood from his shattered nose.
“Bitch!” He lifted the knife and ran at her.
In the open, she had room to move. She spun and kicked out, landing a solid chest blow. He let out a bellow, staggered back, tripping over the edge of the mattress, and fell into the shelves. Cans of beans toppled from the shelf, peppering his back, and rolled across the floor. She lunged for a spade leaning against the wall but not in time. One beefy arm locked around her chest, pinning her arms to her sides, and the cool edge of a blade pressed against her throat. He had caught her in the same move as in the bushes. A warm trickle of blood ran down her chest. She gasped in a breath and went limp, hoping her dead weight would unbalance him.
“Black Rock Falls County Sheriff’s Department.” Kane dropped into her line of vision, his Glock 22 aimed at Dirk’s head. “Drop the weapon.”
A shot shattered the silence and a hot sticky mess splashed over Jenna’s face. The hand holding the knife fell away and Kane moved in to drag her against his solid strength.
“It’s okay. I have you.” Kane’s soft voice filled her buzzing ears. “Rowley, check the body on the floor for life signs.”
“They’re both dead.” Rowley’s voice came through the confusion. “I’ll call the paramedics. Here, wrap her in blankets.”
Warmth surrounded her but shock set in and tremors shook her. She stared into Kane’s compassionate expression, wanting to tell him she was okay and they had not hurt her, but her mouth refused to form words. Leaning into him, she grasped handfuls of his jacket and allowed the tears to flow.
He’d found her.
Fifty-Eight
Kane sat beside the hospital bed and shook his head. “You’ll stay here until the doc
tors say it’s okay for you to leave.”
“I don’t need tests or a psych evaluation. I was slapped a few times and drugged, no big deal.” Jenna’s eyes flashed with anger. “Come on, you can see I’m fine. It’s been three days. How much longer can they keep me here? Can’t you see I’m going nuts and the food is awful?”
His gaze moved over her bruised cheek, split lip, and the three stitches in her neck, then he shook his head. “You’ll stay. Why do you think the DA banned me from visiting you before now? He wanted to make sure we are not in collusion. Not sure how that could happen with Rowley as a witness but, hey, we need evidence of a clean kill.”
“They think what? Oh my God. Two psychopaths kidnap me and they want proof of self-defense? Give me a break.”
He nodded in agreement. “I told them you took down Dean Daniels in self-defense and I shot Dirk before he slit your throat. You have the stitches to prove it and Rowley’s deposition. The DA wanted absolute proof of what happened. When we brought you in, the drug would still have been in your system. I found bottles of pills in the kitchen and a coffee cup with your prints. The evidence is with forensics now. Then there’s the brand of condoms that matched those used in Sarah’s murder and her pink scrunchie.” He sighed. “We have plenty of evidence, and the moment I told Stan Clough his aliens were the Daniels brothers in Halloween masks, he started talking. His statement backed up what you said Dirk told you. He said they had been killing for some years, and when he owned the other ranch, his pigs had eaten the bodies.” He rubbed his chin. “He will be charged for unlawful disposing of multiple bodies and will probably end up in a mental institution.”
“I’m still shocked.” Jenna gave him a worried look. “If you hadn’t brought me up to speed with our morning workout session I might be dead.”
“Nah, you never lose the training. It’s inbuilt; I just gave you a nudge to get it back on track.” He smiled at her. “Don’t think I won’t have you working your butt off the moment you get clearance from the doc either.”
