“We got the tractor back, though. They drove it to the end of the field down the road a piece and left it there. Had some bullet holes in it, but still runs good. The police department took it away to check it out.”
“And I understand he locked you and the other clerk up in a closet,” prompted the reporter. “Yes, Sir,” said the boy eagerly, “we was real scared, too. That killer guy with the scar on his face, he was really scary, crazy-like pushing and swearing. Father Wallington from the Catholic Church near here, now he was real helpful, we all prayed and that kept us calm while all the shoot’n was going on.”
“You heard gunshots?” the reporter prompted.
“Oh my, yes,” the boy said, “there were so many shots we couldn’t count ‘em all. I was scared that crazy one was going to come back and shoot us, too. But they was long gone in that tractor.”
“You saw more than one of them?” the reported asked. “Yes Sir,” the boy answered proudly, “we seen three of them guys and plus Father Wallington, who we already know’d from church, he seen them all, too.”
“Well, thank you so much for talking to us,” the reporter said as the boy was moved away from the cameras by a police officer. “And that was Ben Kochis, a really brave young man from Hurricane, West Virginia giving us his version of events that occurred thirty minutes ago. This is Rob Jefferson reporting on the continuing hunt for the Parkland Killers who struck yesterday at a nearby farm killing one person and injuring two others.”
Gina sat and stared at the TV, immobilized. Rallying, she flipped to another news station to see what else she could learn. There were more shots of ‘Chip’s Farm Supplies,’ shots of police and FBI agents walking around and talking to witnesses. There were shots of Police and FBI vehicles, ambulances and paramedics picking up what looked like wounded bodies, shots of snow covered corn fields, more mug shots of the Parkland Killers, more pictures of their presumed victims, along with their names and information about their deaths. She began clicking on her keyboard, breaking with her usual custom of never using her own computer to access this account, she logged onto her secret email account, finding dozens of urgent messages from Mrs. Goodwin. Hands shaking, she checked Google for news stories. The first item nearly knocked her over… ‘Shooting at the Raines family farm,’ was the headline… Alcott Earl Raines, 68, dead of a gunshot wound, Hattie Raines 66 was injured in an apparent struggle and has been admitted to the ICU at ….….’ Reaching for her land line she dialed the only number she could think of.
“McCray,” the familiar voice answered. “Oh my G-d,” she began and started to cry. “Gina? Gina?” Gil asked urgently, “Are you Okay?”
“My Papa’s been killed, my Mama’s in the hospital, it’s him! I knew it was him! He’s after me and he hurt my parents. What should I do? He killed my Papa!”
She was openly sobbing, “What should I do? What should I do? He’s coming! I knew he was coming! He’s going to kill me and Twinkie.” She was nearing hysteria now. “He killed my Papa, maybe even my Mama. He’ll kill Mrs. Goodwin and Mrs. Eades! They were trying to reach me. I didn’t get their messages. I need to warn them. They could be in danger. We have to help them!”
The deep voice repeated, “Calm down for a minute, Gina, I’ll be there soon. Your friends are safe. We got them out. Calm down. They’re safe,” he reassured her.
“You did what? How did you know about them?”
“It’s my job to know things,” he reassured her, “Calm down I’m going to take care of you.”
Near hysteria she sobbed “You can’t help me you’re across town! There’s a snow storm? You’ll never make it,” she wailed.
“Open the door,” said the voice on the phone.
Startled, Gina rushed to look through the peep hole … Gil gave a little wave. Wearing jeans and a sweatshirt he smiled broadly.
“Where were you?” she asked as she opened the door for him.
“Down on the 2nd floor,” he responded “in my apartment.” She moved into his arms.
“It’s going to be Okay, Sweetie,” he folded her in an embrace. “Don’t you worry we’re going to get them.”
CHAPTER 51
DEDUCTIONS
The man in the Grey Honda drove west in silence; the two women sat close together in the backseat not daring to talk. They had not known what to do in that ladies room, whether to run from this strange man or run toward him. Somehow he had been convincing, his words had been almost hypnotic. So, one at a time, they had walked nonchalantly out of the bathroom. No one seemed to notice as they donned their winter clothing and walked out the ‘Staff-Only’ exit. They hurried through the wintery gusts toward the grey SUV parked near the dumpster and without a thought, climbed into the back seat. The man said nothing. He did not turn to look at them. He simply nodded and put the car in gear. They had driven out of the parking lot, through the snow piled streets weaving their way through the little town. No pedestrians were out and few cars were on the streets. Because of the weather and the police emergency, most businesses had closed early. People were locked up in their homes.
It was nearly 10PM when Edna Goodwin glanced at her watch. They had been driving for hours without a word being spoken. She had no idea where they were going. She reached for Rhoda’s hand and gave it a little squeeze. Timidly she cleared her throat. “Sir,” she began, “may I ask you a question.”
“Certainly,” the man replied.
“Can you tell me where you are taking us?”
“I’m afraid not,” he answered, “but you are going to a safe place, there is nothing to worry about. We mean you no harm. Your employers have been notified that you will be away for a while,” he assured them, “You can sit back and relax. We will take care of you.” Edna knew that this man had saved their lives. Exactly how close the killers had come to finding them, she didn’t know. How he knew about them and how he’d found them, she didn’t know, but instinctively she knew the man in the brown hat had come to save them. Although he was a stranger and acted strangely, she didn’t feel afraid of him.
Sitting in the back of the dark car as they bumped over snowy back roads, Edna reviewed her actions of the last several days. She had received an email from Gina talking about her concerns that the Parkland Killers were after her, that they had been after her all along. Gina was terrified and terribly guilty, feeling the killing rampage had been about her. Edna had tried to reassure her, to reason with her, but that was hard to do in an email and in ‘code.’ Then after the news reports verified her fears about the killers she was uncertain about Gina’s reactions but kept emailing her updates. She didn’t know how the man had found her in the old library but it had to be those emails. There was no other way. Someone had tracked her through her emails to Gina. Her rescuer had tracked them through those emails and snatched them away before the killers found them. She could only hope that the killers weren’t as tech savvy as the man in the brown hat.
Who the man was remained a mystery. He didn’t seem like a killer. Although her information about killers came mostly from TV shows, she didn’t think he wanted anything from them. She thought he was working for someone else. He had said ‘we’ a couple of times. But who exactly ‘we’ was she had no idea. She knew that high level computers could trace people’s emails somehow. That had to be it. The FBI could do it or the CIA or some big police departments could trace people’s emails and pick out key words to trace. Like Homeland Security. They could do that to find terrorists. Was the man in the brown hat an agent of some kind? She dismissed that thought. He didn’t act like he was official, like FBI or anything like that, not that she’d ever talked to an FBI agent before, but this man didn’t seem like FBI. On TV they were always well dressed in suits with short hair. She thought about the man driving the car. He drove slowly with both gloved hands on the wheel looking straight at the road ahead. His movements were focused and deliberate, but he seemed tired. Strands of grey hair poked out from under his hat and around the rim of the scarf
still tied around his neck. She had the strong impression he wasn’t law enforcement because he was stoop shouldered and he seemed rather shy and quiet. Plus, he spoke with an accent. Something from Europe, she thought. Maybe it was German or Austrian, something like that. He seemed like he could be somebody’s grandfather not an FBI agent. Now, what was a man like that doing tracking down emails and picking up strange women in libraries in the middle of the night in the dead of winter?
She glanced over at Rhoda and wished now that she’d never called her about this. She’d gone and gotten Rhoda mixed up in whatever this mess was and here the two of them were riding in the back of a stranger’s car going G-d knew where and she felt horrible about it. She looked over at her friend sitting quietly next to her watching the windshield wipers move back and forth. She wondered what she was thinking. She wished she could talk to her, but didn’t want the man to overhear their conversation. She wondered if Rhoda was afraid. Probably not, she concluded Rhoda is a tough old gal, she’s been through worse than this with her Domestic Violence Center, she’ll be alright she assured herself. We’ll both be alright. ‘This man means us no harm,’ she thought, ‘If he did we’d be dead by now.’
CHAPTER 52
NEXT STOP
“I’m starving, Jake,” Custer said as he sped along the Pennsylvania turnpike. He was glad to be driving; he felt more in control that way. “We’ve got to stop soon,” he told Jake who was slouched in the passenger seat, hand on his wounded neck. His neck was hot and throbbing; his voice was harsh and raspy. It was an effort to talk. It was an effort to swallow. Custer had him on a liquid diet since the attack. It had been 3 days since their harrowing escape from Hurricane. Jake could hardly believe he was still alive. That dog had nearly torn his throat clean out. He had never been so scared in all his life. It was Slim who saved him. Good old Slim. His pal Slim had saved him from the jaws of death… literally. And, his pal Custer had doctored him up and nursed him back to health. He was proud of his buddies. They really proved themselves to him. When the chips were down they came through for him.
When he thought back to that day in the cornfield it was all a blur. As soon as the tractor chugged across that corn field, they stole a car from someone’s driveway and headed for the nearest drugstore so Custer, now the gang’s official medic, could patch Jake up. There was an awful lot of blood and some deep puncture wounds but Custer cleaned and bandaged Jake as best he could, while Slim drove. Later that night he broke into a pharmacy and stole some antibiotics and pain pills and they holed up in an abandoned warehouse so they could re-group. Slim went out and robbed a liquor store, netting enough cash to tide them over for a while.
During those days, Custer was the only one who ventured out. He brought back food and other supplies. Jake slept a lot. It was good to lay low. Jake was sick so that made it easier on Slim and Custer. There was no in-fighting and very little tension. They had no TV so Custer brought in newspapers. Slim and Custer took turns reading stories about their exploits out loud because Jake was too weak to read. There was a lot of information, every paper showed their photos and continuing police and news reports about the investigation. Both the police officer and the dog had died and there were articles about funeral services honoring both of these heroes who died in the line of duty. Custer felt bad about that dog. That dog was a grand animal and didn’t deserve to die, Custer thought. If anyone deserved to die it was Jake not that dog. He felt guilty about the priest, too. He was such a nice man he didn’t deserve to be treated the way Jake treated him. Custer wondered if G-d would punish them for kidnapping the priest and killing the dog. He wondered why G-d had let them get away at all. They should have been shot dead in that field. Now, that would have been justice, Custer thought. Several days later news reports began to die down. No one bothered them and they didn’t bother anyone. They felt smug and safe.
Now, speeding along the Pennsylvania Turnpike, Slim was stretched out on the backseat, his legs propped up on their new backpacks, weapons and jackets, “I’m hungry, too,” he called over the seat.
“Okay, you two crybabies keep your shirts on, we’re almost there,” Jake croaked.
“Where are we almost?” Slim asked sleepily.
“You’ll see. You two are gonna love it.” Jake teased. When they walked into ‘THE SIT IN’ they nearly swooned. The smells of homemade food and cigarette smoke wafted through the air, the jukebox blasted bouncy Country music that mingled with the sounds of laughter and conversation. The killers stood near the door in a small line of people waiting to be seated. Jake studied the corkboard by the door looking for a message. Teddy told him to expect a message with specifics about getting together. No message. Jake frowned. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like it when his plans didn’t work out. ‘Well,’ he thought, ‘maybe Teddy is running a bit late.’ He had a lot of computer stuff to do and Jake was earlier than he’d expected to be. At least he hoped that’s what it was. There should have been a note from Teddy anyway. It bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He hoped his old buddy hadn’t gotten cold feet and run out on him. That would make him very mad. He hoped that wasn’t the case. Pushing those thoughts aside he focused on the restaurant and the good time he and his gang were going to have. It was time to celebrate. It was a miracle they had gotten out of Hurricane alive. It was a miracle he was alive, he thought putting his hand up to his bandaged neck. He couldn’t believe all that had happened. He couldn’t believe they had gotten away. It had been so cool he nearly laughed out loud when he thought of it all. Going back to the farm with all those cops there and getting away again with that important piece of paper, now that was cool! Then there was the church and that damn dog and kidnapping the priest. That was so cool. Then the ride across the corn field in a big tractor… it was all so cool. ‘I’m so smart!’ he grinned to himself, ‘They’ll never catch me. I can go on like this forever.’ He felt smug. Jake the Invincible!
They ordered everything jumbo sized! It was feast time in a real restaurant with real food and they were excited. No more eating in the car or on the ground at a campsite or even in a motel room. He had to admit though, that had been pretty good. It was relaxing and Custer bought them some pretty good food. But this was better. They were at a real table with real silverware and real beer mugs. No one knew them here. They were free and could eat and drink to their heart’s content. They could stay as long as they wanted, do whatever they wanted. Jake held his mug high and toasted to his buddies, a magnanimous gesture that had occurred only once before. That was the time that they had gotten out of jail the first time. They were celebrating the fact that none of them had ratted the others out.
“To my buddies,” Jake had said, “my own true gang. Here’s to us!” He was in a great mood, expansive and relaxed. He flirted with the waitress, a 40-something overweight brunette calling her ‘Honey’ and ‘doll baby’. Slim and Custer were relieved, though, that she wasn’t his type, so his waitress flirting was harmless. They looked around the room to see if there was anyone there he might try to go after. His pattern would be to try and grab someone after a big ‘win’ like this one with the Hurricane police. They didn’t see anyone. Most of the waitresses were on the matronly side in keeping with the old fashioned atmosphere of ‘The Sit In,’ for the moment they could relax.
Slim and Custer didn’t know if Pennsylvania had been the plan all along or not. They really didn’t know the plan because Jake had been very quiet on the trip north, and when Jake was quiet, they had learned to leave him alone. In spite of the good food and the good mood, both Slim and Custer knew that while they had escaped the police there was no escaping Jake. With the jukebox pounding in the background and the smoke filled air surrounding them, their eyes met across their 16 ounce sirloins. There was understanding in that exchange, a clear understanding. Things were not different. This was a reprieve and a brief one at that. When this meal was over, they would again have to deal with Jake Gennett and whatever he had planned next. They would soo
n find out what he had up his sleeve, but they already knew it wasn’t good.
They were living on borrowed time. Their chance of getting out of Hurricane alive had been one in a million. None of them thought they could do it. Each of them had privately thought that the last day in Hurricane, W VA would be their last day on earth. But miracle of miracles they had made it out of there. They escaped and they were free. They had been lucky. But they knew luck eventually ran out. So the Parkland Killers sat in the warm smoky restaurant talking like old friends. Jake flirted with the waitress, they listened to the music and to people chatting and laughing all around them; they clinked their frosty mugs and cut into their steaks!
CHAPTER 53
TICK TOCK
Teddy Ruff flew around his apartment like a whirlwind. He packed most of his important computer stuff first, racing up and down the stairs and tossing important equipment into his truck. Then he realized he couldn’t fly anywhere with that stuff and started downloading essential data onto backup drives. As each computer was emptied, he erased the hard drive and shut the system down. He was in a full-fledged panic when he started on his and Monica’s personal stuff then he realized he didn’t have time to pack clothing, so he concentrated on banking information, money and jewelry. As he began his final descent toward the parking lot he heard male voices walking toward the building’s entrance. Changing direction he walked down the back steps barely missing Jake on the landing, he made it to his SUV which crunched slowly through the snow as Jake and his buddies stood knocking impatiently on his door.
He figured it wouldn’t take them a while to realize he’d left. They would have no way of knowing he was going to run. So they’d might think he was just out somewhere and wait for him. At least that’s what he hoped would happen. Teddy thought he’d have plenty of time to pick Monica up and get out of town. Jake didn’t know about her anyway, Teddy thought. He pulled up to the front of the dress shop and waited nervously for her to come out. She appeared after a few minutes looking fresh and happy, her blonde hair blowing in the wind. She leaned across the seat for a kiss and noticed his expression immediately.
Relentless (Elisabeth Reinhardt Book 1) Page 30
