Next To Die

by Marliss Melton

  Valentino looked away. “It’s intolerable when the innocent are victimized,” he concurred, his voice gravelly with despair.

  The words turned Joe cold. It didn’t sound as if the agent harbored any hope. “We can’t just sit here,” Joe bit out.

  “We have an all-points alert out for Ritter,” Valentino soothed. “We’re waiting to hear what Ophelia’s broadcast might turn up.”

  Joe scraped back his chair. He headed for the bathroom. Splashing water on his face, he avoided contact with the red-eyed stranger in the mirror.

  Penny was his best friend, his lover. He didn’t want to learn the hard way that she’d become something more: the woman he’d grown to love—and lost.

  “Let’s go.” The grip on Penny’s arm jarred her awake.

  In a semiconscious state, she hadn’t even heard the door open or her captor approach her.

  Go where? she wondered, her adrenal glands taxed by the rude awakening and the sudden presence of danger. Her aching head made it hard to respond.

  Ritter yanked her to her feet and shoved her before him, propelling her blindly toward the door. She realized she was barefoot.

  He’s going to kill me now. The realization made her knees buckle.

  Ritter hauled her onto her feet again. “Walk!” he commanded.

  She felt especially vulnerable without shoes.

  The smell of fresh, cold air helped to sharpen her senses. He prodded her to climb a run of steps. They walked through a room with creaky floorboards and out another door. Hope fluttered momentarily as she detected a hint of sunlight creeping beneath her blindfold. Was it possible his boss hadn’t paid him, after all, and he was going to let her go?

  She stumbled down three steps and out into a yard where something cold and wet struck her face. It was snowing, and he’d taken her coat as well as her shoes. Hope expired with the realization.

  Ritter pulled her to a stop. She heard him open a car door. “Get in.” He sent her sprawling across a cold leather seat.

  She vaguely recollected being transported this way before. At least he hadn’t chloroformed her this time. Perhaps her wits could save her.

  “Where are you taking me?” she demanded as he got into the front seat and started to drive.

  He didn’t answer.

  Lying on her left side, with her arms bound behind her, Penny struggled to sit up. Her legs were free, she realized, but without shoes she was defenseless. Or was she? She could still run.

  But then, he probably wanted her to do that. He would drive her to some deserted place and release her. She would run until a bullet tagged her skull.

  No! Her muscles cramped in protest. She refused to die like that—a victim. She had to abort this awful mission before it was too late.

  But how? Her freedom was limited.

  The squeaking of the windshield wipers suggested an answer. It was snowing. The roads were slick. If Ritter lost control of the vehicle, he might never get her to his remote destination.

  With her heart thundering, Penny slunk low in the seat. Slowly, stealthily, she moved her knees up the back of the front seat. Her legs felt weak, sluggish.

  She would have only one chance to do this right. If she messed up, Ritter would secure her feet, and then she’d be truly helpless.

  On the count of three, she told herself.

  One.

  Two.

  Three! She pulled her knees to her chest and extended her legs suddenly, heels connecting solidly with Ritter’s head. But he was built like an ox. “What the fuck?” he roared, seemingly unfazed. Penny cringed. She’d failed. But the car was swerving, spilling her all over the back seat. Ritter fumbled with the steering wheel, seeking to bring the vehicle under control.

  “Son of a bitch!” he growled. Tires skidded over the slick pavement. Gravity held them in thrall. They were going fast. Too fast to elude the laws of physics.

  The left tires dropped onto the shoulder. Ritter pulled a hard right and sent them into a spin. Penny braced herself.

  Crash! They hit something unyielding. She was flung against the door, hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs. With a shattering of glass, the vehicle came to a sudden, shuddering halt. But then it started to tip, groaning as if in agony. Penny fought to stay where she was.

  Whoosh! The car keeled all the way over, bouncing as it landed on its hood. Penny found herself lying in a puddle of broken glass on the car’s ceiling.

  Have to get out! her brain commanded, but she was too stunned to move. She listened, hearing a strange warbling coming from the front.

  In the crash, her blindfold had slipped a little higher. Lifting her head, she encountered the back of a headrest, which she used to scrape the blindfold all the way off.

  Suddenly she could see. The mangled interior of the vehicle prompted a whimper of fright. She looked down at herself. Her wrists were still bound, but she didn’t appear hurt.

  She dared a peek over the seat and got her first good look at Ritter. He was trapped underneath the dashboard. Blood bubbled from his mouth as he sought to breathe and talk at the same time, giving rise to that hideous warbling.

  She tore her gaze away, unsympathetic.

  She had to get out. Get help.

  With her bare feet, she kicked out the sagging, shattered pane of the rear window. It fell in on her, in one thick piece, but she shrugged it off and pushed her head through the opening, rejoicing in the cold, fresh air that hit her face.

  With her hands bound, she squirmed out of the vehicle like a worm, rolled in a ditch that left her clothing sodden and cold. She staggered to her feet, struggling on the incline, her legs weak with the dizzying realization that she was still alive. Alive!

  She struggled up out of the ditch onto an empty road, blinking as she took in the flat rural terrain. Withered cornstalks and copses of trees were all she could see in any direction. Surely a car would come along.

  But all was quiet, save for the pattering of snowflakes and the sounds of Ritter choking on his own blood.

  She left the wreck, determined to intercept a house or dwelling of some kind, aware that her bare feet would soon be frostbitten. The snow was starting to accumulate. Her damp clothes were stiffening with frost.

  If she could just find a phone to call for help. To let Joe and Lia know that she was all right. She focused on that warming thought to keep the numbing cold at bay.

  When a humming sound carried over the unearthly quiet, Penny stopped and listened, her heart in her throat. Help me, please!

  The running lights of an eighteen-wheeler emerged out of the vale of snow behind her. The truck was moving at a clip that made her heart accelerate. She stepped hastily off the road, unable to flag the driver down with her hands tied.

  At the last second, the truck veered into the oncoming lane. He’d seen her.

  With a shout for help, Penny watched it roar by. Her hopes plummeted toward despair, only to rise back up again when the brake lights flared. With a roar of deceleration and a hissing of hydraulic brakes, the truck slowed to a careful stop many yards down the road.

  Penny started to run.

  A bearded stranger leaped from the cab. Penny slowed, suddenly cautious.

  “Ma’am?” he called. The concern in his voice was reassuring. “Are you all right?”

  “I need help!” she admitted, her voice cracking as the effect of the last twelve hours caught up with her.

  His weather-beaten face was a picture of consternation as he bent down to peer at her. “Good gravy,” he exclaimed in a thick local accent, “you’re the Price woman, ain’t ya?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Saw it on the news; heard it on the radio. Whatcha doin’ way out in here in Pungo?”

  “Trying to get home,” she said, her eyes burning with tears.

  “Well, I can sure help you with that.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Joe was the first to step through the door of the Pungo County Sheriff’s Office. In his
eagerness to set eyes on Penny, he left Hannah and Rafe to catch the closing door.

  He spied Penny the instant he stepped into the brick building, but the knot of fear cinching his stomach remained. She was huddled under a woolen blanket. Her hair was disheveled, one cheek swollen and bruised. She held a crushed paper cup in her hands. Her aqua-blue gaze tore into him as she glanced up.

  “Joe!”

  He reached her in less than a second, pulling her up and into his embrace.

  She squirmed uncomfortably. “I’m filthy; I smell bad,” she protested.

  “No, you don’t.” He craved her in his arms. But she kept him at arm’s length.

  “Where’s Ophelia?” She peered past him to see Hannah and Valentino entering.

  “Lia’s still at the station,” Joe replied. “We called her the minute we got news.”

  “Penny!” Hannah hurried over. “Boy, are we happy to see you,” she said, reaching out to touch her. “This is Special Agent Valentino, the heavy hitter from D.C.”

  Valentino clicked his tongue in disagreement and murmured, “My pleasure.”

  “We’re going to get you out of here,” Hannah said, casting a glance up and down the hallway. “Let’s go now.”

  “They told me to stay here till the sheriff returned from the site of the accident,” Penny protested.

  Joe wanted to hear more about her valiant escape. She’d managed a brief explanation in her phone call—a call that had made Joe dizzy with relief.

  “Our people are already at the scene,” Hannah replied. “Ritter’s dead,” she added gently.

  Penny’s eyes glazed. “I figured he would be,” she whispered.

  She was so strong, so brave, that it was all Joe could do not to haul her into his embrace.

  “So, let’s go,” said Hannah. “The sheriff of Pungo can wait for your statement.”

  But then a deputy popped out of the nearest office. “Just a minute, now. Who are you?” he demanded, swaggering up to them.

  “Special Agent Lindstrom, FBI,” retorted Hannah, flashing her badge. “We have jurisdiction on his case. The victim is coming with us. Take my card.” As she thrust it at the deputy, Valentino waved Joe and Penny through the exit.

  Joe found himself back in the FBI official sedan, Penny tucked in beside him. As she released the edges of her blanket to buckle herself in, he noted the chafed skin on her wrists with a sense of shock.

  What did he expect? She’d already told him that Ritter had been ordered to kill her. Tying her wrists was par for the course.

  “She needs to go home and rest,” he gritted to the agents.

  The dark eyes glancing into the rearview mirror were apologetic. “Standard procedure requires that she be checked out by a physician. The faster we move on this, the better our chances of apprehending Ritter’s boss.”

  “He knows me,” Penny volunteered in a thin voice. “That’s why he wanted me dead. He considered me a liability.”

  Hannah swiveled in the front seat. “Do you want to talk to us now, hon? Or later, after a doctor sees you?”

  “I don’t need a doctor.”

  “It’s standard procedure, Penny. We need to process your clothes and check you for evidence.”

  “I’ll talk now,” Penny said, looking out the window.

  Joe swallowed down his helplessness. He couldn’t, wouldn’t even think about what evidence Hannah believed the medical exam would yield.

  “We’ll need to record your statements,” Hannah added, producing a handheld recorder. She spoke into it first, naming the investigation and providing the date. She asked Penny to acknowledge that she was being recorded. Then the interview began. “Can you tell us what happened as you left the hospital yesterday evening?”

  As Penny recapped how she’d been chloroformed in the parking garage and had awakened, bound and blindfolded in a basement somewhere, Joe traced the scar that was throbbing and burning on his cheek. He willed his blood pressure to subside.

  “Then I overheard Ritter talking to his boss,” Penny was saying. “That’s when I overheard his name. I swear I’ve heard it before, in a conversation.” She rubbed her forehead, closing her eyes in concentration. “I just can’t remember where.”

  “Why do you think Ritter’s boss knows who you are?” Hannah prompted.

  “He sounded so distressed when Ritter told him my name. I could hear him on the other end. He told Ritter to get rid of me.”

  Joe sucked in a breath at the stark remark.

  “Did you recognize his voice?”

  “No, not overhearing it like that.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “Ritter took my picture, as a memento. Then he left me for a while. Later, he dragged me out of the basement up to his car. He put me in the back seat and started driving.”

  As she described her desperate bid for freedom, Joe had to open the window for fresh air. It was either that or throw up. At the same time, he couldn’t be more impressed. There wasn’t a woman in the world braver than Penny.

  “What kind of profile do you have on this guy?” he demanded. It scared him to death knowing the ricin killer was still alive.

  “We believe he’s in the military,” said Hannah carefully.

  “Penny sees guys in the military all day long,” Joe pointed out.

  “We think he has a hang-up about friendly fire. He’s taken it upon himself to avenge those he thinks are responsible for blue-on-blue engagement.”

  “You mean those four officers,” said Joe.

  “Yes,” said Hannah. “They were all investigated for their part in friendly fire incidents and exonerated.”

  Jesus, thought Joe. Everyone was up in arms about friendly fire these days. That didn’t help to narrow down the list of suspects any. “So, what now?” he demanded.

  Valentino glanced into the rearview mirror again. “We examine the evidence that Ritter left behind. Hopefully it’ll lead us back to the ricin killer.”

  Hopefully? Penny’s safety was in jeopardy here. Joe wanted the ricin killer caught today. “I want her protected, and Lia, too, twenty-four seven,” he demanded.

  “Not a problem,” said Hannah, on a sympathetic note. “I’ll put in a request for U.S. Marshals, one for each of them.”

  Placated, Joe glanced at Penny, hoping to see her relief, but she’d nodded off to sleep. He scooted closer, offering his shoulder as a pillow to lean on. The weight of her head was as much a comfort to him.

  Joe drew down the blankets on his bed and realized that this was the first time Penny had elected to sleep in his bed, in his house.

  Beyond the drawn blinds, the bright sky betrayed that it was just late afternoon, yet they were both exhausted from the events of the night before. “Hop in,” he invited, fluffing the pillow as Felix took up residence at the foot of the bed.

  With a murmur of thanks, Penny eased between the sheets wearing one of his T-shirts, long enough on her that it fell to her thighs. As she pulled the covers to her chin, Joe got in the other side, then wriggled to the middle to pull her close.

  Her hands came up. “I can’t,” she whispered.

  He released her, falling back against the pillows with deep concern. Penny had kept him at a distance since the incident. That and the mandatory examination by a doctor had left him fearing the worst. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Even if she had been violated, it changed nothing for him. He only wanted to help her make the memories go away.

  “It’s not you, Joe,” Penny said, reading his thoughts as always. “I’ll be fine in a day or two. It’s just . . . at the hospital they had to check me over, and—” To his dismay, her voice began to quaver. “He didn’t rape me or anything like that,” she added.

  “You don’t have to say any more,” he begged, nonetheless aware of his relief. “I just wanted to hold you until you realize you’re safe and no one’s ever going to hurt you again.”

  “Oh, Joe.” She lifted a hand to stroke the line of his jaw. A
t the same time, her chin trembled, betraying troubled thoughts.

  “What?” he asked turning sideways to see her better.

  She shook her head, holding out on him.

  “You know you can tell me anything, Pen,” he urged.

  Tears seeped slowly from her eyes, each one leaving a gash in Joe’s heart. God, he thought, let me be able to handle this, whatever it is.

  “I was so afraid, Joe. All I knew was that he was going to kill me if I didn’t do something. I didn’t mean to stoop to his level; I just had to save myself.” A sob tore through her, and she turned her face into the pillow to hide it.

  Joe’s hands jerked her to him, nearly crushing her with the force of his embrace. “Cry, damn it. Let it out, and then never think of it again. You did what you had to do, Penny. The accident killed him. Get that straight right now.”

  “I know. I just feel so confused.”

  He knew she was suffering the posttraumatic stress that followed terror, but still Penny’s racking sobs made him feel so helpless. He’d never hurt so badly for another human being, would have given anything to strip her mind of those awful memories of her fight to survive.

  To his relief, she accepted his comfort, collapsing on and into him. He held her gently, murmuring reassurances until the storm of emotion passed.

  He stroked her back, her hair, his touch comforting and platonic. At last, he felt her grow limp and slip into the sleep she needed to begin the healing process.

  In the dim light, Joe studied Penny’s pale, bruised face. How could he ever have considered her less than lovely? Her beauty came from within; it was timeless. It took his breath away.

  He put his lips to her forehead, whispering the words that his heart felt so plainly. “I love you, Penny. God damn it, I love you.”

  She was sleeping. She couldn’t even hear him, but it was better that way. Never once had Penny hinted at deeper emotions for him. Sure, she wanted a husband and a family of her own, but she’d never suggested that Joe might be part of that picture. He was just the hunk next door, a convenient screw, the man she’d taken as a lover to reawaken her sexuality.