Her Last Breath: A Chilling Psychological Thriller (Wolf Lake Thriller Book 1)

by Dan Padavona

  “When did Hyde get out?”

  Edwards hummed as she thought.

  “Last September or October. Is this related to the murder in Wolf Lake?”

  “I believe so.”

  After thanking Edwards, he phoned Lambert.

  “I got him,” Lambert said. “Jeremy Hyde. Apartment 1224, forty-six Tasker Boulevard.”

  “That’s our guy.”

  Thomas rocked back in his chair and caught his breath. His pulse raced, fingers tingled. He wanted to be in the field when the police and sheriff’s department converged on Jeremy Hyde’s apartment. What was taking Aguilar so long?

  Voices carried from downstairs, soft and muffled. He dug his fingers into his scalp and forced his brain to slow down. No way he could think straight with a million images flying at him—Erika Windrow’s headless corpse washing ashore, the serrated hunting knife sweeping across the woman’s throat, a shadowed figure staring at the Mourning’s house from his yard. How close did Hyde come to capturing Scout and Naomi? Had the killer been inside the house while Thomas showered before the Magnolia Dance?

  He closed his eyes and breathed. Set his hands on his thighs and pictured the negative, frantic energy whirling inside him. In his mind, he directed the energy toward his fingers, a relaxation trick his therapist taught him after the shooting.

  After a moment, his eyes popped open. Keeping his gun on him, he arranged his notes into neat stacks and clicked the papers against the desk three times, ready to leave as soon as Aguilar made it back from Harmon. Checked the time. If Aguilar didn’t arrive soon, Thomas wouldn’t make it to Harmon before the police took Hyde down. He’d promised to keep Naomi and Scout safe, and he meant to keep that promise.

  But as he moved to the staircase, someone pounded on the door.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Thomas descended the stairs. In the living room, Naomi stood protectively in front of her daughter, the woman’s eyes full moons of terror.

  From this angle, he couldn’t see the front steps, only a black shadow mirrored against the planks. Peering out the window, he searched the shoulder and driveway for Aguilar’s cruiser. A green Honda Civic lingered behind his truck.

  Chelsey.

  “It’s okay,” he told Naomi. “I know her.”

  When he opened the door, Chelsey barreled past and set her hands on her hips.

  “You told me we’d work together on the LeVar Hopkins case,” she said, fire burning in her eyes. “Now I find out he’s been at the hospital all this time.”

  Chelsey’s gaze swung to Naomi and Scout. Confusion twisted her face.

  “These are my neighbors,” said Thomas. “Naomi Mourning and her daughter, Scout. You may speak in front of them.”

  Chelsey shook her head as though clearing away cobwebs.

  “Serena Hopkins overdosed, and you never called me like you promised.”

  “I’m busy tracking a murderer, and there’s no reason to pursue LeVar Hopkins. He didn’t kill Erika Windrow.”

  “And who’s Jeremy Hyde?”

  Thomas did a double-take. Chelsey must have a contact inside the Harmon PD.

  “Let the police handle it.”

  “If he murdered Erika Windrow, I need to be in the loop.”

  Another knock stopped Thomas from arguing. Finally, Aguilar had arrived. He pulled the door open and made introductions. Aguilar’s brow quirked up when she saw Chelsey. Thomas threw a jacket over his shoulder.

  “What did you find out in Harmon?” Thomas asked. When Aguilar glanced at the three guests inside his house, he held up a hand. “They’ve heard everything already.”

  Aguilar gave a hesitant nod.

  “I received Lambert’s call before I left, so I interviewed the women again. None of them recognized Hyde’s name. But when I showed them Hyde’s mugshot, they all claimed they’d seen the creep hanging around. Said he watched them from the alley near the adult video store.”

  “Did he ever approach the women?”

  “No, but one swore she spotted him inside a white SUV last week. He slowed down beside the curb like he wanted to proposition her, then he sped off when she moved toward the window. I fed the information to the department. Turns out Hyde drives a white 2017 Chevrolet Trax.”

  “They have his address. How long before the police go in?”

  “Soon. Hurry, or you won’t make it in time.”

  He buttoned his jacket and checked his pocket for his wallet. Aguilar tossed him the keys to the cruiser.

  “You’ll stay until I return?”

  “I’ve got you covered,” Aguilar said.

  “Expect Ranger Holt to stop by. He’s watching the house from the state park.”

  As Thomas turned, Chelsey threw herself in front of the door.

  “If you’re going after Hyde, I’m coming too.”

  “Absolutely not. Your investigation is over, Chelsey.”

  “I’m under contract with Tessa Windrow. You can’t stop me from following.”

  “As a sworn deputy for Nightshade County—”

  “Come on, Thomas. I need to be there.” When he narrowed his eyes, she raised her palms in placation. “I swear I won’t interfere. The police will arrest Hyde. But I want to see the bastard’s face when they take him out. Erika Windrow was only eighteen.”

  An unbidden memory flickered in Thomas’s head—Chelsey at eighteen, crippled by depression, a girl with boundless promise crawling into a shell. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Chelsey identified with Erika and needed to avenge the murdered girl.

  “I don’t have the time or patience to fight you,” he said, jangling the keys. “You may come. But stay out of harm’s way.”

  * * *

  Thomas swung the cruiser into Harmon when Lambert called him with the news. He’d matched Harpy’s IP address to Jeremy Hyde. Since winter, Scout had been messaging with a madman disguised as a teenage girl. He pressed the gas. Another five minutes until he reached Tasker Boulevard. When he hit a traffic glut, he scrolled through his contacts and located Naomi’s number.

  “Thomas, did the police catch him already?”

  “Not yet. Naomi, do not let Scout visit the Virtual Searchers forum.”

  “I didn’t plan to. Your voice sounds different. Is something wrong?”

  “The girl she talks to, Harpy, is Jeremy Hyde.”

  Naomi didn’t respond.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “I understand. But I can’t tell my daughter. Not yet.”

  “We know who he is now. Hyde won’t hurt anyone again.”

  Six minutes after the clock struck ten, Detective Edwards gave the order. An officer with black eyes to match his hair used a Halligan bar to breach the door. He could have kicked the flimsy barrier off its hinges had he chosen.

  Two pairs of police officers swept inside the darkened apartment. The lights atop their weapons picked out the bed and kitchenette before Edwards flicked the wall switch. Thomas followed Edwards inside. He recognized the table, the marred ceiling and walls, the candles on the shelf. A death scent pervaded the room. It reminded Thomas of roadkill collecting flies in the heat of summer.

  Two officers swung around the kitchenette counter and angled their weapons into the shadows.

  “Clear!”

  Fingers wrapped around his gun and poised on the trigger, Thomas struggled to focus. Too many people, too much shouting. A sharp pain bit into his back. One hand moved to the small of his back and touched the old wound as metallic sulfur scents tickled his nose. Impossible. No one had fired a weapon yet. The flashback spun his head.

  “You with us, Deputy,” Edwards asked, her stare penetrating.

  He swallowed and nodded, a sheen of sweat crawling into his eyes.

  One room left to search. The bathroom. With no hiding places remaining, the police converged on the door and stood aside. On the count of three, the officer who’d used the Halligan bar kicked the bathroom door ajar. Thomas followed them in. One officer swept the shower
curtain aside with a hiss. A blood splotch dried in the tub.

  “He’s not here,” Edwards said, holstering her weapon. “If Jeremy Hyde has half a brain, he hit the road hours ago.”

  “He wouldn’t leave,” Thomas said. “Not yet.”

  “How can you be certain?”

  Thomas pushed his tongue against his cheek.

  “Because his work isn’t finished.”

  The BOLO was already out for Jeremy Hyde when Thomas descended the long staircase and exited the building. Officers stationed in unmarked Harmon PD vehicles would watch the apartment and street corner where the prostitutes congregated. By now, the television news stations were running Hyde’s photo. Someone would spot him before the night ended.

  Chelsey leaned against Thomas’s cruiser as he crossed the sidewalk.

  “He’s still out there,” she said, shoving her hands inside her jacket pockets.

  “We’ll catch him, Chelsey. The entire county is looking for him now.”

  She stared into the belly of the city. Harmon’s gang lands looked black and heartless, solitude and strife embellished by the bright lights of fast-food restaurants and porn shops.

  “I’m sorry for losing it earlier.”

  “You want to catch him as much as we do. I understand.”

  “It’s not my case, and I overstepped my bounds. I just wanted to do right by Erika. What the heck was I thinking, coming here like I was an official part of the investigation? I was wrong about LeVar Hopkins, didn’t even choose the right gang. I’m not cut out for this.”

  He wanted to lay a hand on Chelsey’s shoulder, tell the woman he once loved he believed in her. Instead, he stood frozen on the concrete walkway as officers streamed past. A CSI team pulled to the curb.

  “The important thing is we know who he is now. We’ll catch him.”

  “It won’t bring Erika back to her mother.”

  “Are you certain Erika would have gone back to her mother had she lived?” The question hit too close to home. In the throes of depression, Chelsey had fled her home and ran from demons she couldn’t escape. Thomas read the hurt on Chelsey’s face and wished he hadn’t spoken. “I should get back to the house.”

  “It’s good you’re looking after your neighbors, Thomas. You always had the biggest heart in Wolf Lake. The woman…Naomi?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s quite pretty.”

  Thomas rolled a knot out of his neck.

  “I hadn’t noticed. Look, Naomi and Scout are in this mess because of me. I’m obligated to keep them safe. I’d better get back to them.” He removed the keys from his pocket. “I’ll see you around, Chelsey.”

  “Wait.” She grabbed his arm before he stepped off the curb. Across the street, two women whispered and pointed at the police cars. “I want to help.”

  “There’s nothing you can do to—”

  “Your neighbors are in danger because of my incompetence. Had I recognized Raven’s brother wasn’t the killer, maybe this guy wouldn’t be running free. I’ll follow you back and park down the road. You could use an extra set of eyes.”

  “The temperature will fall to forty degrees overnight. You’ll freeze sitting in the car.”

  “I’m used to stakeouts.”

  He pushed the mop of hair off his forehead.

  “You don’t understand the meaning of no, do you?” He stepped off the curb and circled around the cruiser. When he reached the door, he peered at her over the roof. “Well, are you coming?”

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  The moon crawled beneath the hilltops, the unearthly glow haloing the peaks. Outside the window, the lake road glowed in silver and blue tones. No vehicles had passed in the last hour. The suffocating quiet made Thomas wonder if he was the only person alive in the world.

  Thomas yawned and peeked at the clock. Three in the morning. He’d sent Aguilar home after midnight. Hunkered down in an unoccupied guest room on the upper floor of the house, he stared through the glass frontage overlooking the road, keeping the lights off so prying eyes couldn’t see inside. In the next room, the door stood closed with Naomi and Scout asleep. Earlier he’d carried the girl upstairs, then folded the wheelchair and set it beside their bed. Since Naomi rose to use the bathroom an hour ago, there hadn’t been a peep inside the house.

  His walkie-talkie squawked. With his gaze fixed to the shadows curling around the house, he raised the radio to his lips.

  “Thomas here.”

  “It’s Darren. Just checking if you’re still awake.”

  Thomas eyed the thermos of coffee. He’d consumed half a pot already, and his body buzzed as fatigue lay heavy on his bones.

  “Hanging in there. You see anything?”

  Darren had driven to the top of the ridge and parked his truck, watching Thomas’s property through a pair of binoculars.

  “Nothing. You really think Hyde will come tonight with half the county searching for him?”

  “I admit I’m losing faith. If you want to turn in, I won’t keep you up. I have the house covered.”

  “I’m in it for the long haul. Heck, I kinda miss stakeouts. All I need now is a submarine sandwich with extra onions. The smell used to drive my partner crazy.”

  Thomas chuckled.

  “It was always tacos for me. Can’t get a good taco in Wolf Lake.” Down the road, hidden between two pines, Chelsey’s car slumbered in silhouette beneath the shoulder. He brought his own binoculars to his eyes and searched for her. Shadows blanketed the car. “I appreciate you hanging with me all night. I owe you one.”

  “And I’ll collect when the time is right.” After a second of radio silence, Darren said, “Tell you what, Thomas. I’m not helping you by sitting on this hill. Gonna circle around and check out the lake road.”

  “Gotcha. Be careful.”

  Darren ended the conversation, and Thomas sipped from the thermos. A ground mist crept out of the trees and spread toward the road, the windows beginning to fog. He wiped the blur away with his shirt and pressed the binoculars against the glass. Chelsey’s car hadn’t moved since midnight. He pictured her alone in the Civic, shivering and toughing it out. She didn’t have a radio, and he didn’t have her cell number. He’d been too uncomfortable to ask.

  This was ridiculous. It was lunacy for her to sit alone all night.

  “Darren,” Thomas said into the radio. “I’m heading across the road to check on Chelsey.”

  No answer. If the ranger had the volume low, he wouldn’t hear Thomas over the engine.

  He stopped outside Naomi’s door and listened. The peaceful susurration of their breathing carried beneath the threshold. Descending the stairs, he grabbed a second thermos from the cupboard, filled it with coffee, and started another pot. Edging the front door open, the cold sharp enough to scour away his fatigue, he stood on the deck and peered across the road. Still couldn’t find Chelsey, only the Civic’s indistinct outline amid the pines. After he locked the door, he jogged across the blacktop and high-stepped through the dewy weeds. His breath caught in his throat. The car appeared empty. Then he saw her face staring at him through the windshield.

  She lowered the window and glowered at him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Enough is enough. It’s too cold to sit outside all night. If you won’t go home and sleep, at least come inside.”

  Her gaze cut toward him. She sighed.

  “That won’t make you uncomfortable?”

  How could he be less comfortable? His heart hammered into his throat. It was illogical to have feelings for her after fourteen years.

  “I’ll worry if you don’t come inside. Here,” he said, handing her the thermos. “This should cut through the chill.”

  She stared at him through the open window for several heartbeats.

  “Fine.”

  Chelsey raised the window and locked the car. Together, they followed his path through the weeds and climbed to the shoulder. In the five minutes he’d spent outside, t
he fog had spread to the median. Soon it would blanket the house. How would he know if someone was sneaking through the yard?

  His hands trembled as he inserted the key into the lock. A fusion of cold and nerves. Chelsey shivered when she stepped inside the house and rubbed the goosebumps off her arms.

  “Would you like something to eat?”

  She shook her head.

  “I can’t eat this late. Upsets my stomach.”

  He nodded.

  “Tell me if you change your mind.”

  Her eyes swept around the interior.

  “This is a beautiful place.”

  “Do you remember it?”

  “How could I forget? All those times you stayed with your aunt and uncle, and they invited me to eat dinner with you.” She leaned against the counter. “Where are your neighbors?”

  “Upstairs. You’re welcome to take the empty guest room. I put fresh sheets and a comforter on the bed.”

  “I wouldn’t sleep,” she said through chattering teeth.

  Thank goodness he invited her in. She teetered on the edge of hypothermia. From the pantry, he removed a loaf of raisin bread and dropped two slices into the toaster. While the bread toasted, he dug the butter out of the refrigerator. The toast popped after a minute, and he snatched the scalding-hot slices and placed them on a plate, licking the burn off his fingertips. After he buttered the toast, he raised the dish.

  “Last call.”

  She shrugged.

  “Why not? I’ll be up all night, anyhow.”

  They took their toast upstairs to the unoccupied guest room. The chair he’d hauled out of the kitchen sat beside the window. He rolled a desk chair across the carpeted floor and gestured for her to sit down. She no longer trembled, but anxiousness coursed through Chelsey in waves.

  Thomas grabbed the radio.

  “Darren, you there?”

  Several seconds passed without a reply. Chelsey glanced at Thomas before the ranger’s voice boomed through the speaker.

  “I’m back, Thomas. Had to relieve myself in the ditch.”