Out Of Control

by Desiree Holt

  Cole took another swallow of beer before answering her. “Jesus, Dana. It was a cold case—very cold—by the time I took office here so I had no reason even to look at it. But I’d like to think that was done. Maybe whoever it was has been a victim himself since then and he’s already dead. Auto accident. Almost anything.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a nice, neat package. Then everyone could close the books and forget the whole thing.” She smacked her forehead. “Oh, I forgot! Everyone in High Ridge has forgotten about it.”

  She looked away before he could see the sudden tears in her eyes. Lowering her head, she began to peel the label from the beer bottle, dropping bits of paper in a little dish on the table next to her.

  It didn’t matter what anyone thought or said. She knew the truth. He wasn’t dead. He was here, in High Ridge. She’d sensed him today. But how could she tell that to Cole? He’d think she was crazy for sure.

  He cleared his throat. “Okay, I hear you. But right now, I’ve got every single body focused on the Pritchard case. Truth to tell, though, I came over here tonight because I needed to get away from the gore and misery, and I thought…”

  “Yes?” She sat up straighter, her body tightening. “You thought what?”

  “I thought it would be nice just to hang out and talk about something besides crime and murder.”

  She stared at him. “Because we have such a great relationship?”

  He laughed at that. “Not yet, but I’m hoping.”

  Hoping? Hoping for what? For a normal relationship with a normal woman? Big laugh on you, Cole Landry.

  Her pulse skipped slightly, and her words seemed to stick in her throat. “Cole, there’s something you need to know about me.”

  One eyebrow cocked, and a grin teased his solemn mouth. “You’re an escaped convict? A hooker looking to retire? A black widow who kills men for money?”

  She shook her head. She couldn’t even smile at his attempted humor. “I’m not very good with relationships. I don’t want you to think—”

  “Dana, I don’t think anything. And I’m not asking you for anything. Just your friendship. All right?”

  “That’s all? Because…”

  Cole swung his legs around and leaned his elbows on his knees. “No worries. For right now, friendship is a good thing. And Dana?”

  “Yes?”

  His voice softened. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I just want you to know that.”

  “I-I don’t know why you feel the need to tell me that.”

  “Because every time I get close to you, or touch you, you react as if I’m about to strangle you.”

  “I just…Forget it. Forget I said anything. I’d like to be friends. Just like you said.” She gripped the bottle a little too tightly. “We’ll see. Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me how you ended up in High Ridge, Texas. It’s not exactly the center of the universe.”

  He lounged back into the couch again, balancing his beer bottle on his stomach. “Well, let’s see. Ten years in the Marines took a lot out of me. I wouldn’t change a day of it, but I reached a point where I couldn’t deal anymore with death and destruction.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “Too many good men died right next to me. I needed something for my own peace of mind.”

  “But you knew about this place?”

  “My aunt and uncle live here. Adele and Tate Bishop. They own that big Santa Gertrudis ranch west of town. I used to visit during the summers.” He drank the last of his beer. “The sheriff here was having some arthritis problems and wanted to retire. Tate suggested I might like to apply to the county commission for the job. Bought myself a few acres outside of town. A few horses. And here I am.”

  Dana cocked a brow as she reached for his empty bottle, silently asking if he wanted another.

  “One more. That’s my limit for tonight.” When she handed him a fresh one from the kitchen, he took a long swallow. “I actually have an associate’s degree in criminal justice. One of these days, I’d like to get my bachelor’s degree. I guess I should have started it before the roof fell in here.”

  “You’ll find who did this. You don’t seem like the kind of person who would quit pushing until he had all the answers he wanted.”

  “Right now I feel like a person who’s in over his head.”

  “The television reporter tonight said Leanne was raped and sodomized.” Dana realized she was clenching the bottle again and forcibly relaxed her grip.

  Cole made a face. “Television reporters. They’re like pimples popping up when you least need them. Yes. Raped and sodomized and tortured. Then tossed away like some piece of garbage.”

  “Her parents must be devastated.”

  “Mrs. Pritchard’s in the hospital. She collapsed after I spoke with them yesterday. And her husband isn’t leaving her side. They’re an older couple. Leanne came along when they’d least expected to have kids. She was their world, a bright, sweet girl who was the light of their lives. I worry they might die of grief.”

  “I’m sorry.” Dana shifted in her chair. “You said you came here to get away from the gore and mayhem for a few hours, and I’ve made you fall right back into it. Let’s change the subject.”

  Dana was surprised at how many things they agreed on. Cole was the last person in the world she expected to have things in common. But by the time ten o’clock rolled around, the hesitancy and stiffness between them had morphed into genuine liking. She was shocked to realize she even felt comfortable with him.

  When she walked him to the door, they were close enough that if she stood on tiptoe, their lips would meet, but one kiss tonight from this man was enough. For now. He rested his hands on her shoulders and studied her eyes, as if he was trying to look inside her.

  “Tonight has been really great,” he told her. “I needed this. Thank you.”

  “I enjoyed it, too.”

  “I’d like to do it again, if I can get this case under control. Would that be all right?”

  She nodded. “You don’t have to wait. Stop by anytime you want to talk. I mean, if you need to. About the case. Or anything.” She studied the lines of strain in his face. “I know what it’s like, the need to unload the tension.”

  “Dana, you said before you don’t have good luck with relationships.”

  “Cole, listen—”

  He touched one finger to her lips, his eyes holding hers. “Are the demons chasing you the reason for that? Because something’s got a death grip on you. I could tell the first time I met you. I saw it in your eyes.” He let one finger trail softly along her cheek. “At first I thought you were just a hard-ass, but that’s not it at all, is it? You’re frightened to death of something so you hide behind a wall of steel.”

  “You’re wrong,” she protested half-heartedly. “Dead wrong.”

  It was a lie and they both knew it, but she knew he wouldn’t push her. At least not tonight.

  He smiled, and there was so much understanding in his expression she didn’t know what to say when he reached up and brushed a thumb across her cheek.

  “I don’t think I’m wrong, Dana. And whatever it is, I know it’s what’s got you on the hunt after this story. I don’t know if you’re trying to find answers or you’re running away from the questions, but I know it’s something.”

  Her body drawn taut as a bow, she tried to pull away. “I’m fine, Cole. Really. Just fine.”

  He dropped his hands to her shoulders. “No, you’re not, darlin’. Far from it. I just wanted to let you know this works both ways. I’m here if you need someone to talk to. Maybe help you with whatever it is.”

  But…what would it be like to actually dump it all out in the open? Tell him what happened? Tell him about the clowns and what she’d found out? Maybe even tell him about the sense of evil that had permeated the air at Harry’s. No. She couldn’t tell him anything. Not yet. She couldn’t trust him enough. No matter how much she wanted to.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted once more. “You need to get
home and catch some sleep or you won’t be any good to anyone.”

  He studied her face for a long time, then stepped back and reached for the doorknob. “Right. I won’t keep you. Thanks for letting me come by like this. As to your offer, don’t be too surprised if I take you up on it sometime.”

  “Anytime,” she assured him.

  When he was gone and she made sure all the doors and windows were locked, Dana put on some water for tea and took a mug out of the cupboard. She was amazed and proud of the fact that she’d been able to get through Cole’s unexpected visit with some semblance of normalcy. Today had been one emotional collision after another. She’d held herself together all evening, but now, in the quiet of night, the familiar shakes were taking over.

  Filling her mug with hot tea, she carried it to the dining room table and booted up her laptop. Sleep was probably the smartest thing she could do, but the specter of the clowns plagued her. And hovering at the back of her mind was the image of the grinning clown, enticing her and Kylie, then grabbing them and racing from the fairgrounds. What a mockery! That something so appealing to children had been used to destroy them.

  She’d found three incidents so far in the crime reports that mentioned the clowns. How many more were there? Pulling up the file she’d transferred her notes into, she began again to study each case. If only she could find some way to do a better search.

  Chewing at her bottom lip, she began to enter her search parameters and click on the links that came up.

  ****

  The cabin was dark except for the lamp beside the bed. Thick black curtains sealed the interior from the outside, giving no indication that anyone was inside. No one ever used this place anymore except him, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He’d set motion sensors around the perimeter, remembering the shock of nearly being found out all those years ago at the place he’d once used. The last thing he’d expected was kids stumbling on the location as an ideal place to smoke pot.

  But here in the cabin, he was completely isolated. No one knew how to get here anymore except for him. With the precautions he’d taken, he felt secure that he had all the time in the world.

  He looked at the girl lying on the bed, wrists manacled and fastened to the headboard, eyes wide with fear above the tape on her mouth. Probably no one could hear her out here, but again he wasn’t taking any chances. He didn’t want to have to look for another hidey hole.

  Again, she was older than he liked, but Tony had told him to take it or leave it. The crop tonight had not included any of the real young ones that were so delicious to his taste. He’d have to speak to Tony about that.

  They’d concluded their business at the usual spot, the others were turned over to his buyer and he’d whisked this little darling off in his truck for some fun and games.

  He hummed to himself as he gathered his tools and toys, lining them up on the bedside table.

  “There was a little girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead. When she was bad, she was very, very bad, and when she was good she was…” he chuckled. “just his cup of tea.”

  The mere thought of what he was about to do had his penis erect and throbbing. He’d have to work to maintain control. The older he got, the harder it was to hold back. He rose from the bed and slowly began to strip off his clothes. He enjoyed the struggles of each young girl as the understanding and fear in her eyes grew stronger. The screams muffled behind the duct tape drove him to new heights as he played his games. First the toys. Oh, yes, he loved every kind of toy.

  This one was little more than limp flesh by the time he wiped himself as best he could and pulled his clothes back on. Her eyes fluttered when he closed his hands around her throat, and the fear was stark as she realized what he was about to do. Fear drove him as he snapped her tender neck.

  Checking carefully to make sure no one had managed to pop up unexpectedly, he lifted her body and carried it out the back door. Five hundred yards into the trees was an old well. He’d already opened the padlock on the cover. Shifting it to the side with one foot, he heaved her slight body into the opening, hearing it thud as it landed on the remains of those who had gone before her.

  Finished, he slid the cover back in place, fastened the padlock, and strolled back to the cabin humming his favorite tune.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Although it was only seven in the morning when Cole arrived at his office, the mayor was already there waiting for him.

  “You know Susan Pritchard’s in the hospital, right?” Margene, in full mayor mode, barked at him. She followed on his heels as he made his way to his office. “She’s had a complete breakdown. Leanne was the sun and the moon to her.”

  Cole hooked his Stetson on a hook on the wall and dropped into his chair. “Good morning to you, too, Margene. Would you like a cup of the sludge that passes for Grace’s coffee?” He pressed the button on the intercom. “Grace? Two cups of your famous poison, please.”

  Margene planted herself in front of his desk, hands on hips. “This isn’t a social call, Sheriff.”

  “Oh, Sheriff, is it? No first names today?” He was doing his best to defuse the anger rolling off her in waves.

  “Damn it, Cole. I want to know what’s happening with Leanne. And I want to know right now.”

  Grace inched her way into the office and deposited two filled cups on his desk, tactfully closing the door on her way out.

  “Nobody’s resting until this is over,” Cole said. “And yes, I do know Leanne’s mother had to be hospitalized. I’m not surprised. This was a vicious murder by anyone’s assessment. Trust me. We aren’t sitting around picking our teeth.”

  “What about calling DPS for help? Have you thought any more about that? They send Rangers to work on murder cases, I know they do. Or the FBI.”

  “It’s barely been thirty-six hours since we found the body,” Cole pointed out. “I’d like to think you’ll give us another minute or two before calling in reinforcements. And this isn’t the kind of case the FBI will jump in on. At least not yet.”

  Margene plopped down in a chair opposite Cole. “Then tell me what you’ve got.”

  Cole picked up his cup, blew on the hot brew, and sipped at it, trying his best not to make a face. “We know that someone slashed one of her tires while she was in the Supermart. Someone who obviously waited for her to come out so he could offer her a ride. I know you don’t want to hear this, but we have to consider the possibility it might be someone from around here. Leanne would never get into a car with a stranger. Her daddy would have tanned her hide and she knew it.”

  “Surely you don’t mean that.”

  “Her truck was way off to the side. Someone could have grabbed her and knocked her out before she could scream.”

  Margene’s face paled, and the hands that picked up the other coffee cup weren’t quite steady. “I don’t even want to think of that as a possibility.”

  Neither did Cole, but Dana’s words kept haunting him. As a conscientious lawman, he had to consider every aspect of the situation. He’d found himself staring out the windows of his truck on the way to work, wondering if any of the men he passed could be the one he was looking for and hating himself for thinking it.

  “Just to fill you in, I’ve got deputies checking everyone we can pinpoint as being at Wal-Mart around that time,” he told Margene. “The manager pulled all the slips with charge or debit card numbers, and the names we don’t have, the bank’s getting for us. We’re talking to everyone who was working, trying to get them to remember if they saw some of their neighbors there or others that we can talk to.”

  “I don’t know why the hell that girl parked way over to the side, anyway,” Margene said. “There’s only one big light over there, and it’s not working right. That manager better get it fixed or he’ll see trouble like he’s never known before.”

  She lifted the cup she’d been cradling in both hands to her lips and took a small drink of it. Cole nearly laughed when her face scre
wed up and she almost spit the liquid out.

  “Holy hell, Cole. What does Grace put in here? Battery acid would taste better.”

  “Her own special blend. Keeps us on our toes.”

  “Remind me to give her a lesson in brewing coffee.”

  “I did speak to the store manager about the light,” he said. “He’s going out of his way to be helpful.”

  “He doesn’t want a bunch of lawsuits, that’s why. So, what else have you got?”

  “No evidence of anything where Leanne’s body was left, which indicates she was killed somewhere else. I’m damned if I can figure out, though, how he got her there without leaving any tracks. Every possible route to the park is being checked and rechecked in case someone might have noticed something.”

  Margene shook her head. “If another young girl turns up like this…”

  “That could indicate a serial killer, and I’d be calling the FBI first thing,” he assured her. “You can count on it. I won’t sit on my hands, waiting to see what develops.”

  Margene leaned forward in her chair. “Cole, I want you to promise me you’ll keep me up to date on every little detail. I’ve got this whole county riding my ass, and you know what that means.”

  He nodded. “That you’ll be riding mine. Not to worry. Just keep the commission off my back and keep what I tell you to yourself. I don’t want to have everything spread around town like gossip.”

  Margene gave a hoarse laugh. “Trust me, Cole. They’ll do what I tell them.” She put the cup back on his desk and stood. “Sorry, I can’t finish the brew. I want to live past sundown today.”

  When she was gone, Cole sifted through the reports his deputies had left for him, checked to see who was out doing what and where, and decided his stomach was too touchy for Grace’s coffee without something in it to soak it up.