Going Gone

by Sharon Sala

  His urge to speed was huge. He was so close to this being over that he couldn’t think. He’d driven all the way out of the city before he realized he was low on fuel.

  He couldn’t believe it! He’d checked right before he headed to Laura’s house, and now it showed less than a quarter of a tank. What the hell? The only thing he could think was that the gauge didn’t register properly. He could assume it was fine and keep driving, or accept it might have been stuck and was now registering right.

  He didn’t know what to do. It was risky as hell stopping to refuel, but they had no way of knowing where he was going or what he was driving. He knew she’d been on the phone when she opened the door. He’d heard her scream Cameron’s name. It made him feel powerful to know he had taken Cameron’s woman. He hoped to hell Cameron was in a panic just like he’d been with Louise, praying someone would come rescue them before it was too late.

  Less than a mile later, he saw a truck stop up ahead and decided to pull over and get fuel. It would pay off later on. Once he’d hidden her body, his next stop would be the nearest airport to catch a flight back home. He wondered if anyone had missed him, and if they would have a big get-together at the community center to welcome him back.

  The truck stop was busy, so when he pulled up to a pump and stopped, he felt just as anonymous as all the others coming and going.

  He glanced in the back, making sure the drop cloth was safely concealing Laura Doyle’s body, and got out. He took a credit card from his wallet, swiped it through the pump, then waited for it to clear. When it showed up as having been denied, he frowned and did it again, only slower. It didn’t change the result.

  “What the hell?” he mumbled, and switched the credit card for his debit card, only to get the same result. It had to be the pump. There had to be something wrong with the pump.

  He glanced inside the window to make sure she was still out, then jogged to the station to use the ATM. There was a man ahead of him, and the longer he waited, the more worried he became.

  Finally the man moved away and Hershel calmly swiped the debit card through the ATM machine, punched in his PIN and waited.

  When it came up declined again, his heart skipped a beat. He looked down at the card, then pulled out the credit card. It, too, was declined. He counted out the cash in his wallet while trying not to panic, then walked to the front desk and tossed two twenties onto the counter.

  “Forty dollars on pump four,” he said.

  The attendant took the money and gave him a receipt, then set the pump as Hershel walked out the door.

  His stomach was in a knot as he strode to the pump. He wouldn’t let himself believe this was anything but a glitch. Computers did stuff like this all the time. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.

  * * *

  Laura came to in total darkness, immobilized, gasping for air, disoriented and in pain, but fully cognizant of what had happened. She was stunned that she was still alive and aware Inman had her. Since the vehicle was stopped, she imagined that he had taken her to the river to dump like he had all the others, then realized she could hear traffic and people talking, so that couldn’t be true.

  She did a quick recon of her situation, felt the thin nylon rope tied around her wrists and assumed that was what was binding her ankles, as well. She didn’t know where Inman was, only that he wasn’t inside the van, but he could open the door at any moment. When he did, her chances of surviving this would lessen even more.

  She could feel the cross dangling between her breasts as she lifted her wrists to her mouth to try to get herself free. Cameron knew she was in trouble. They couldn’t be far behind. All she needed was to delay Inman’s plans, so she began biting at the rope, trying to loosen the knots with her teeth. She was making progress, but not nearly fast enough, when she heard a click. He’d unlocked the door with the remote. A wave of fear washed through her.

  Oh, God, please, no.

  And then it was too late.

  Inman was back in the van.

  She froze. Her only chance of staying alive was to play dead.

  * * *

  Hershel was sick to his stomach as he got inside the van. The moment he locked the doors he got out his credit card and made a call to customer service. It rang and rang, and when it was finally answered, it was nothing but an automated voice. He cursed as he went through the process, punching numbers and waiting to be connected, until he finally got to a living, breathing human.

  “Customer service. This is Martha. May I have your name, please?”

  “Paul Leibowitz.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Leibowitz, and how may I help you?”

  “I just tried to use my credit card to get some gas and it was declined, so then I took it inside to an ATM and it was declined again. I want to know what’s going on. I am not delinquent in paying. In fact, I don’t owe any money on this card at all.”

  “One moment please, and I’ll see what I can find out,” Martha said.

  He frowned when she put him on hold, and as the music began playing he started up the van and pulled back onto the highway, on his way back to the barn he’d found yesterday. Right now, he needed this money thing ironed out.

  One minute passed, and then another, before Martha came back on the line.

  “I’m sorry for your wait, Mr. Leibowitz.”

  “Did you get the glitch fixed?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, but your account has been frozen.”

  Hershel swerved, then dropped the phone as he overcorrected and almost rolled the car. When he finally had it back on the highway, he grabbed the phone from between his legs and started yelling.

  “Hello? Hello? Are you still there?”

  “Yes, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  He was screaming. “You can fucking tell me why my account was frozen! That’s what you can do!”

  “I don’t have that information, sir. I suggest you contact an attorney.”

  The line went dead.

  Hershel began cursing and slamming his fist against the steering wheel. All he could think was that they must have finally aired his picture to the public and nosy-ass Lucy had called in. And then he groaned. He’d forgotten that identifying him would also give them access to the name he was living under. He’d been away from this for too long and made a terrible mistake that had just cost him every penny he had. He couldn’t go back to Mexico. He could hide again, but it would be harder without money. Son of a bitch! This was not how he’d planned for things to turn out.

  Don’t pretend to be surprised. This is what happens to people who do bad things.

  “Shut up, Louise! Just shut up! I need to think!”

  You can’t think yourself out of this mess. They’re on to you. This is where your revenge has taken you, and this is where it will end.

  “I don’t care! I don’t care!” he screamed. “I’ll have the last laugh. She’s dead, and after I get rid of her body, it won’t matter what happens to me because I don’t fucking care.”

  * * *

  Laura’s elation at finding out the FBI was in the process of shutting him down ended when the van nearly rolled. She’d come close to screaming before the van finally leveled out, and he began talking to his dead wife. Both Nola and Jo had warned her that this had happened. Now she was experiencing it for herself.

  When she heard him screaming that he thought that she was dead, she took a chance he wouldn’t notice any movement behind him and began trying to work the knots loose from around her hands again.

  * * *

  When the Stormchaser team realized Inman wasn’t taking her to the river, it changed the whole dynamic. Once again, everything was an unknown as they followed the moving blip onto Highway 267 westbound out of Reston. Tate put the accelerator to the floor, turning the passin
g scenery into a blur. Cars on the highway ahead of them heard the screaming siren, saw the flashing lights and began pulling over on both the right and left shoulders to give them space.

  Cameron’s only focus was the blip. As long as it stayed in motion he could let himself believe they still had a chance.

  Wade was in the backseat relaying mile-marker information to the Virginia Highway Patrol, praying someone would get to Inman faster from the other direction.

  Wade’s staccato comments and the whine of the tires against the pavement were almost rhythmic, lulling them into a false sense of hope, and then Cameron suddenly groaned.

  “He stopped! Inman stopped,” Cameron said.

  “Where?” Wade asked.

  Cameron told him the coordinates.

  Seconds later Wade relayed a message back from a Virginia Highway patrol dispatcher. “It’s a gas station, Cameron. He just stopped to get gas.”

  Tears blurred Cameron’s vision.

  Nineteen

  Laura could hear Hershel muttering and crying as she chewed at the knots in the rope around her wrists. She didn’t know what was going on inside his head, but it was obvious that he was coming undone.

  Over and over, she locked her teeth around the knot, pulling first one way and then the other, trying to get it to loosen. When it finally began to give, she almost cried out with relief. It was the impetus she needed to pull harder. The van was swerving all over the road again, and she was scared to death that they were going to crash before she could get free.

  She didn’t realize Hershel was driving with one hand and making a phone call with the other until she heard him talking again.

  * * *

  Hershel’s theory was that if the credit-card account was frozen, then the bank account would be, too, but he had to know for sure. His fingers were trembling as he made the call.

  “Fidelity National, how may I direct your call?”

  “I need to speak to customer service, please,” he said.

  “One moment.”

  “Please, please, please. Please let it be okay,” he mumbled.

  “Customer service, how may I help you?”

  Startled by the loud, brusque voice, he flinched, fumbling the debit card in his hand. It fell into the floorboard, and once again he had to pull off to the side of the road to find it.

  “Just a moment, don’t hang up!” he shouted. “I dropped my card.” A few seconds later he was back on the phone. “Hello? Hello?”

  “Yes, sir, I’m still here. How may I help you?”

  He didn’t realize he was sobbing.

  “I tried to use my ATM card and it wouldn’t work.”

  “What’s your name and account number, sir?”

  Hershel gave her the info, then waited agonizing minutes for an answer before she came back.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but your account has been frozen.”

  Hershel hung up, and for a few seconds he stared blindly out the window without making a sound.

  In the back of the van, Laura’s heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure he could hear it, but she managed to keep herself from making a sound.

  She was still motionless and praying to be found when she heard what sounded like a high-pitched howl. At first she thought of the wolves that had tried to get into her wrecked plane. When she realized it was Hershel, the hair stood up on the back of her neck as the howl morphed into a scream.

  Seconds later the van began to move, and her panic rose. Whatever was happening, it was bad, which didn’t help her chances of living through this. He sped up, the van going faster and faster, until the tires were whining on the pavement like the far-off whistle of a southbound train.

  * * *

  Cameron was on the edge of the seat, his gaze fixed on the highway before them. At any moment, he kept telling himself, they would top a hill and see Inman’s black van in the distance. Every few seconds he would glance back down at his iPad just to make sure the blip was still moving, and then he would shift focus to the highway.

  “How much farther?” Tate asked.

  “We’re about three, maybe four miles behind them,” Cameron said, but when he looked down to check, his heart skipped a beat. “They’ve stopped again. What the hell? What’s he doing?”

  “Every time he stops or slows down, we get that much closer,” Tate said.

  Cameron was at the point of losing it. The guilt he felt for what was happening to her rode heavy on his heart. He knew for a fact that if she hadn’t been engaged to him, this wouldn’t be happening. For her sake, he had to pull it together.

  “Yes, I know that, but it doesn’t make this easier,” he said, then looked down. “They’re moving again.”

  “We’re going to catch up,” Tate said.

  Cameron touched the moving blip with the tip of his finger.

  Hang on, Laura, honey. We’re coming to get you.

  All of a sudden Cameron looked up and grabbed the dashboard, as if trying to push the car to go faster.

  “He took a right! He’s going straight north off 267, and this map doesn’t even show a road there.”

  Wade relayed the message to the highway patrol dispatcher, who sent it down the line.

  “They’ll find us, and we’ll find Inman,” Wade said. “Have faith.”

  Less than three minutes later Cameron pointed.

  “There! I see an exit up ahead. He had to go that way.”

  “I see it,” Tate said, and barely slowed down as he steered off the highway.

  * * *

  Laura felt the pull of gravity against her body as Hershel took a sharp right, and then she felt the pavement give way to unpaved road. Dust was coming up inside the van, but Hershel wasn’t slowing down. Twice the back end of the vehicle fishtailed in the loose dirt, but he kept on driving.

  There was a coppery taste in her mouth. She was bleeding, most likely from the rough fibers of the rope, but she was still trying to get herself free. One moment she was still pulling on the knot, and the next thing she knew it was loose.

  She swallowed a sob of thanksgiving and pulled more frantically at the second knot, which was looser. It came undone within moments, and then all of a sudden her hands were free. She bent down beneath the drop cloths, feeling the knots in the rope around her ankles. They were so loose they seemed to be afterthoughts.

  Within moments she was completely untied. Her heart was pounding again, but this time with hope. She needed something to use as a weapon and wondered if he still had the Taser, or if he’d left it behind at her house.

  * * *

  While she was trying to second-guess a madman, Hershel began slowing down. As he rolled to a stop at the gate, he put the van in Park and got out on the run.

  The moment Laura heard him get out she crept out from under the drop cloth to look for a weapon. She saw a crowbar on the other side of the van at the same time she heard footsteps coming back.

  It was now or never.

  She grabbed the crowbar and slid back out of sight even as he was getting into the seat.

  When the van began to move again, the crowbar was tight within her grasp.

  * * *

  Hershel was numb. He was about to achieve his ultimate goal, yet nothing was going right. It was unlikely that he would escape this time, and a part of him didn’t really care. He was tired, so tired of cat-and-mouse games.

  I told you that you would die.

  When Hershel heard Louise’s voice, it demolished the last of his restraint. He began to argue, and the more he said, the louder he became, until he was screaming.

  “Yes, Louise, yes, you did, and you were right. Is that what you want to hear? That you were right? Then I’ll say it again. You were right! You were right! You were right! So what? That
just means I’ll finally see you again.”

  You won’t see me.

  He didn’t know what to make of that and no longer cared. He drove up to the old homestead and then all the way down to the barn and pulled the van inside like he had before. As he did, a pair of doves perched up on the rafters took flight.

  He put the van in Park and killed the engine, thinking what had to be done. The body still had to be unloaded, and his back was already so damn sore he could hardly breathe. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to give up and just leave her body on the ground and let the rats go at it, or go ahead with his plan and hang her high.

  Truth was, the whole hanging thing had been interesting only if he could have watched her die. As it was now, he would just be hauling deadweight up into the air to watch it swing. He wished again that he hadn’t killed her so fast back at the house.

  * * *

  Laura’s thoughts were in free fall. She’d already considered trying to take him from behind, but if she messed up, she would still be trapped inside the van. If she had a chance of living through this, she had to take him by surprise, and she needed room to run.

  * * *

  Hershel’s focus was on the noose he’d left hanging. Even though the day was windless, it was swinging slightly to and fro. He looked up and saw rats running across the rafters. They were what had set it in motion, and they would be the denouement to his final kill.

  He pocketed the keys as he got out and, with purpose in every step, circled the van. The elation he’d expected to feel had been severely dimmed by his financial setback, but he was ending this his way, and that would have to be enough.

  As he approached the back doors, a rat darted out from beneath the van. He kicked at it and missed, stirring up a cloud of dust instead.

  “Nasty sons of bitches,” he muttered, and opened the back doors.

  He was still looking down when Laura swung the crowbar. Pain exploded in his head as he dropped where he stood.

  She leaped out of the van and swung the crowbar one more time while he was down. His body jerked from the impact. When she heard him grunt, she bolted, running out of the barn and into the pasture with the crowbar still in her hand, following the set of tracks that he’d left in the grass.