by Debra Webb
“We need privacy,” he announced.
The room cleared.
Quintero settled his attention on Nick. “Before I trust you, amigo, I will know your connection to Detective Gentry.”
Nick’s anticipation sharpened. “If—” he emphasized the word “—you waste whatever time we have left before that son of a bitch kills Bobbie, I will see that you regret it.”
One side of Quintero’s mouth lifted in a half smile. “Your threats mean nothing to me. I ask a simple question. If time is wasted, it is on you.”
Nick decided the truth would serve him better. “I hunt serial killers. I’m here for Perry. Bobbie and I have been working together to find him.”
Quintero looked impressed. “You kill the motherfuckers?”
“I stop them.”
Quintero nodded. “Like a vampire hunter.”
“You could say that.”
Quintero stood. “Bobbie came to me.” He shrugged. “I guess you were not around.”
The jab shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did.
“She said the po-po were watching her and she needed a favor.” He grinned. “I’ve been trying for months to get me some of that so I figured here was my chance.”
Rage washed over Nick before he could check the reaction. The bastard eyeing him noticed.
“I see how it is. You got a thing for her, too, don’t you, hunter?”
Nick ignored the question. “What kind of favor did she want?”
“She needed a ride to her other house.”
“You dropped her off there?”
“That’s what she asked me to do.” Quintero folded his arms over his chest in a classic defensive maneuver.
He was lying. It was far more than the folding over of the arms. It was the quick glance away rather than hold Nick’s gaze. It was the ever so subtle shift of his weight as if he were bracing for battle.
“Did you come straight back here after dropping her off?”
Quintero held his gaze for a long moment. “I did.” He shrugged. “But two of my eses stayed behind. Funny thing is, our detective didn’t stay too long before she left in a BMW. It must have been in the garage.”
Blood roaring in his ears, Nick asked, “Was she alone?”
Quintero shook his head. “There was someone in the backseat, but that someone stayed hunkered down like he didn’t want to be seen.”
“Did your people follow her?”
Quintero nodded.
“Take me there,” Nick demanded. “Now.”
“I can do that,” Quintero agreed. “If you ask nicely.”
Rage roared through Nick. He held it back, his fingers curling into fists with the effort. “Trust me, Quintero—this is me being nice.”
“Aiight then.”
Nick followed Quintero and two of his men to the Camaro waiting at the curb. As he loaded into the front passenger seat, Nick reached for Bobbie’s phone. He pulled up the number for Sergeant Holt.
He hesitated only a second. Bobbie was going to need all the backup he could bring.
If she was still alive.
Thirty-Eight
LeDoux lay so damned still, his eyes closed. But he was alive and so was she. Bobbie’s heart squeezed with pain when she thought of Gwen. She lay on the floor next to her. And the poor little girl. She had gone quiet, too exhausted and terrified even to sob any longer. Her little chest rose and fell with shuddering breaths.
Perry paced the floor. She had given him Shade’s number and told him to call if he didn’t believe her. Evidently afraid it was a setup, he hadn’t done so. He just kept pacing.
Perry abruptly walked out the door, slamming it behind him.
Bobbie’s heart shuddered. She winced as she scanned the floor around Gwen’s body. Where was that key? Then she saw it lying near Gwen’s feet.
“Little girl!” Bobbie whispered as loudly as she dared. She couldn’t hear Perry so she had no idea what he was doing outside or when he would walk back in.
The child didn’t move, but she heard Bobbie. The rhythm of her breathing changed.
“Please help me,” Bobbie urged. “There’s a key on the floor, and I need you to get it for me.”
The little girl raised her head and peered across the room.
“Hurry,” Bobbie urged. If Perry suddenly came back inside to find the little girl helping her, he would kill the child the way he had Gwen. Fear expanded in Bobbie’s chest. What else could she do?
The child got up and walked tentatively over to Bobbie.
They were all dead anyway. Bobbie took a breath. “See that key on the floor next to her feet?”
The child looked at the floor where the key lay. She blinked once, twice.
“Can you pick it up and unlock this thing on my hand?” She moved her right hand to show her what she meant.
The little girl bent down, her pink dress falling into the blood, and picked up the key.
“There’s a little hole. Come closer and you can see it.”
While the little girl moved closer, Bobbie listened for Perry. “Now stick that key into the hole.”
Sweat beaded on Bobbie’s forehead. Her heart slammed mercilessly against her rib cage. Please, please, don’t let me get this baby hurt.
The key fell out of the hole and hit the floor.
Bobbie’s heart lunged into her throat.
The little girl’s eyes widened, and she looked to Bobbie.
There was still no sound outside.
“Try again,” Bobbie urged softly.
She picked up the key and put it in the hole.
“Can you turn it?”
The little girl’s lips pressed together as she struggled to do as Bobbie asked. Hurry!
The cuff around Bobbie’s right wrist popped open.
The key hit the floor again. Bobbie snatched it up and released her left hand. “Go back and stay in the corner,” she urged the little girl. “Be very quiet.”
Eyes still wide with fear, the child nodded.
Bobbie had just released her right ankle when the little girl tripped over Gwen’s body.
Bobbie reached for the final cuff.
The door swung open and Perry stormed back in.
His gaze lit first on the child and then on Bobbie.
She dropped the key and dove for the gun he’d left on the floor.
Perry threw himself atop her.
Bobbie’s fingers closed around the Glock.
Perry rolled her onto her back, twisting her left leg, which was still chained to the floor. Bobbie ignored the pain and squeezed the trigger.
The bullet whizzed past his right ear. Perry flinched and grabbed her right arm, forcing the barrel away from his head.
Bobbie rammed her right knee into his groin.
His eyes bulged and his mouth gaped, but he didn’t let go of her arm.
She rammed harder with her knee. This time he dodged the move and forced the muzzle against her forehead.
“I will still fuck you after you’re dead,” Perry warned.
Fear coursed like thick, dark oil through her veins.
“Don’t let him win, Bobbie.”
LeDoux’s hoarse words were like gasoline poured on a fire. Strength from some place deep inside her rushed into her arms and she strained to move the weapon away from her face and toward Perry.
“Not if I fuck you first,” she growled.
Bobbie squeezed the trigger.
The bullet bored through Perry’s shoulder. He howled in pain.
The little girl screamed.
Bobbie shoved him off her and scrambled as far away as she could. Shaking so hard she could scarcely hold the Glock, she fumbled for the
key with her free hand. “You move,” she warned, “and I’ll blow your head off.”
Hunched over and clutching his shoulder, he glowered at her. “Look at the brave detective,” he jeered. “Trying to make up for letting her family down.”
Bobbie released her left ankle and struggled to her feet. Pain shot up her leg. She winced. “Shut up.”
Perry laughed, his face twisted with his own agony. “You couldn’t protect them—could you, Bobbie?”
Bobbie wiped the blood from her face with her forearm, fury expanding in her chest. “Something else your mother and I had in common. She couldn’t protect you either, could she? Maybe she didn’t want to. Is that why you’ve spent all this time raping and murdering women who reminded you of her?”
“If he touched my mother,” Perry threatened, “I will—”
“Nothing,” Bobbie promised. She smiled. “Because you’re going to be in hell where you belong.”
“Gentry, let me loose!” LeDoux shouted. “Now, goddamn it!”
Bobbie didn’t dare take her eyes off Perry. “Give me a minute.” She considered her options for getting the little girl to safety. Alone outside she could get lost in the woods. “Hey, little girl!”
Like a rabid dog, Perry’s head whipped around toward the child.
The little girl lifted her gaze to Bobbie’s, her entire body shaking.
“I want you to turn around toward the wall and close your eyes,” Bobbie told her, her aim never leaving Perry. “Whatever you do, don’t look.”
The little girl did as she was told. Whatever happened next, Bobbie didn’t want the child to see. She’d seen too much already.
Perry grinned at Bobbie even as blood oozed from the wound in his shoulder, soaking the T-shirt he wore. “What’re you going to do, Bobbie?” His body shuddered. “Blow my head off?” he mocked. “Won’t you go to prison for killing an unarmed man?”
Keeping the barrel steady on Perry, she eased toward LeDoux. All she had to do was release one hand and he could do the rest.
“Don’t move,” she reminded Perry.
“Whatever you say, Detective.” He watched her, that disgusting grin seemingly frozen on his lips.
It took three attempts but she managed to get one of LeDoux’s hands free. He grabbed the key and did the rest while Bobbie moved to where her clothes lay in a pile near Gwen’s body. Her heart ached for the poor woman. Bobbie clenched her jaw. She would make him pay.
LeDoux groaned as he stood.
“Can you walk?” His foot was swollen and turning nasty colors.
“Yeah.”
“Get your clothes on and take the little girl outside.”
LeDoux cried out as he dragged on his jeans.
“I need medical attention,” Perry demanded. “My cell phone is in my pocket. You have a duty to call for assistance.”
Bobbie ignored him. She grabbed her jeans and worked at getting them on one-handed.
“Let me have the gun.” LeDoux moved up beside her.
“Take the girl outside,” Bobbie countered as she slipped the rope off her neck, and then pulled the tee she’d been wearing over her head. “Do it now, LeDoux.” She stuck one arm through a sleeve, passed the Glock to the other hand to finish.
LeDoux stared at Perry, saying nothing. His nostrils flared with the rage expanding inside him.
“Take the girl outside,” Bobbie repeated, her pulse hammering in her ears. She did not want LeDoux to challenge her on this. Perry could not walk away from this place. Whatever the cost, she would not let that happen.
Finally LeDoux nodded. Bobbie sagged with relief.
“I need medical attention,” Perry repeated.
LeDoux paused midway across the room. Bobbie held her breath. When he started walking again, she dared to breathe.
Perry shot to his feet and reached for LeDoux with his uninjured arm.
Bobbie fired.
Perry fell against LeDoux.
The little girl screamed.
LeDoux shoved the bastard to the floor. Bobbie rushed to where he lay. Blood bloomed and spread quickly around his waist.
For a long minute she and LeDoux only stood there, staring down at Perry.
Hardly able to breathe with the emotions rushing through her body, Bobbie lifted her gaze to LeDoux. “Thank you for stopping him from raping me...again.”
He nodded before meeting her gaze. “Never tell. For me,” he urged, his gaze saying more than his words. “Never tell.”
She nodded in understanding. “Go. Take the girl outside.”
Before LeDoux could do as she asked the door burst inward.
Bobbie swung her aim in that direction.
Shade.
She lowered her weapon.
Shade looked from her to the dying man on the floor, and then to Gwen’s body.
Holt and Bauer pushed in around him.
The urge to collapse was nearly overwhelming. Bobbie shook it off. “Wait outside,” she said, looking from one to the next, her gaze landing lastly on Shade. “All of you.”
No one moved. Time seemed to suddenly stand still as they all considered the situation.
LeDoux was the first to act. He crossed the room, picked up the little girl and walked out.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do, Bobbie?” Shade’s voice was low and gentle.
Bobbie couldn’t answer. Emotion had crowded so tightly into her chest and throat that she couldn’t have spoken if her life depended on it.
“Help...me.” The words gurgled out of Perry.
The weight of silence pushed the air from the room.
Bobbie’s gaze swung to Holt’s.
When no one moved, the sergeant looked from Bauer to Shade. “We’ll wait outside.”
Bauer gave Bobbie a nod and filed out the door behind Holt. Shade held Bobbie’s gaze a moment longer before he followed.
When the door closed her body started to tremble and she dropped to her knees.
Perry’s gaze shifted to her. A pool of the blackest crimson had formed beneath him now. It wouldn’t be long.
Clutching the Glock with both hands, she waited without saying a word until his eyes ceased to blink and his chest no longer rose and fell.
There was nothing to say.
Her story was finished. The monster was dead, and she was still alive.
Thirty-Nine
Capitol Hill Terrace Center,
Thursday, September 1, 6:00 p.m.
“Yes,” Ted agreed as he unfastened his seat belt. “Your team did an outstanding job, Dorey.”
“Are you still at the office? I was thinking we might celebrate.”
Ted stared at the building in front of him. “I have something to do first. I’ll call you when I’m finished here.”
“Bobbie’s okay, isn’t she? I dropped by to see her this afternoon and she seemed to be doing all right. We talked about her continuing the counseling and she understands it would be for the best.”
“I believe she will finally be able to begin to heal now.” Ted prayed the little girl, Darla, would in time be able to forget the horrors she had witnessed, as well. Thank God she was unharmed physically. LeDoux had been treated for his injuries and released. He had been all too ready to return to Virginia.
Gaylon Perry was dead, and that was damned good news. Despite her cooperative attitude, Ted had insisted Bobbie take some more time off work. She wasn’t happy about it but she hadn’t protested as much as he’d expected.
“I’ll see you around eight.” Ted ended the call before Dorey could ask anything else.
He tossed the cell onto the passenger seat and sat a while longer. More than half an hour had elapsed since he’d pulled into the parking lot. The truth
was, visiting his wife had grown harder and harder. He closed his eyes. But it was wrong to pretend she no longer existed. With all that was going on he hadn’t visited her on Sunday. He needed to make up for that missed visit.
But it hurt so much to walk into her room and know that she likely would not recognize him. She rarely even spoke anymore. She was in the final stage now. There was no way to know how much time she had left. Whether or not she recognized him, he owed it to her after nearly forty years of marriage to show up.
“Stop being a coward,” he growled as he climbed out of the car.
The woman inside this facility—the woman who had shared most of his life with him—deserved better.
Ted squared his shoulders and entered the building. He smiled and chatted with the receptionist as he signed in. Then he took the elevator to the second floor and greeted the folks at the nurses’ station. When he arrived at his wife’s room, she was seated in her wheelchair looking out the window over the parklike grounds that spread across several acres behind the facility.
She was secured in the chair, preventing her from falling and injuring herself. Each room was monitored via audio as well as video around the clock by the nurses’ station.
Ted leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. As usual, she didn’t respond. Not even a flinch.
He pulled up a chair and sat beside her, pretending to enjoy the view. Then, as he did each time he visited, he told her the story of their life together.
Forty
Capitol Heights, 6:30 p.m.
Tricia rubbed her naked and swollen belly. Lynette sat on the sofa pretending to be caught up in the book she held. She and Tricia had barely spoken for three days now.
Had they made a mistake? Was it not possible for them to enjoy a life together? It seemed unthinkable to Lynette that they could have shared such a wonderful relationship for three years and suddenly now that they were expecting a child everything was wrong.
“I know you’re not really reading that book,” Tricia announced as she adjusted her position in her favorite chair. “You’re just using it so you don’t have to talk to me.”
