by Paris Hansen
Rubbing his hands together, he turned back to his guest. She squirmed on the table, then let out a deep anguish-filled moan. With a hand on her stomach, he tried to still her, but she wouldn’t stop moving. Annoyed, he pulled at the bottom of her dress, rolling it up and over her stomach. The material was far wetter than he’d realized when he’d carried her inside, and it didn’t have the telltale smell of piss, which was what he’d assumed it was.
Something wasn’t right.
Her shoulders arched up off of the table as best they could, given her chest and wrists were firmly secured to the metal. Her muffled scream was a hell of a lot louder than it should’ve been. He could see clearly her movements were induced by pain, not by fear.
“Are you in labor?” he asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.
Her eyes had a glassy look to them as her gaze met his. She nodded slowly before her eyes slammed shut, and she groaned in pain.
Fuck. She was having contractions, and they were close.
He couldn’t go through with the surgery now. He wasn’t a professional. The potential of hurting the baby was too damn high, which meant they would have to do this the old-fashioned way.
Except he had no idea how to deliver a baby. Not the natural way anyway. Panic spread through his chest. What the hell was he going to do? He couldn’t start all over and grab someone else. He didn’t want the day to be a colossal waste of his time.
Plus, what would he do with the woman and her baby? He couldn’t let them go. She knew what he looked like. She’d be able to describe him to the police.
He’d just have to suck it up and deal with the change in plans. The internet was as good a place as any to learn how to deliver a baby. That’s how he’d learned how to do a c-section in the first place. Hell, people delivered babies long before the internet ever came along. How hard could it really be?
Turning back to his tools, he grabbed the scissors off the tray and then turned around to his patient. He used them to cut her underwear off her body and then put them back on the tray. He at least knew to do that much. From there, he’d have to figure things out.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, did a quick internet search, and was not surprised when there were over a million hits for his search. The first one was even a handy little video about delivering a baby in an emergency.
After watching the video a few times, he felt like he was ready to get things done. It was then he realized having a baby was more of a hurry up and wait situation than he was used to. He did another internet search to find out how long it could take to have a baby and was extremely disappointed by what he saw. Without knowing if she was in early labor or active labor or whatever the hell either of those meant, he discovered he could be waiting another 8-12 hours for the damn baby or even more if he was extremely unlucky.
If only he were more skilled at surgery, then he could take the risk and just cut her open. What’s the worst that could happen?
If he ended up killing the baby, he’d have to start over with someone new. If he did that, it would mean another few days of waiting until he had another day off of work, all while things became more precarious at home. Weighing the pros and cons, he opted to wait, hoping the few hours it could take for the baby to be ready to come out would be worth it in the long run.
Sighing, he went through a few more videos online, trying to learn everything he needed to know to deliver the baby without hurting it. He was hopeful this would be the one. He’d take the baby to her, and she’d accept his offer. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about finding someone else or going through the process ever again.
It wasn’t that he minded everything he had to go through to get her what she wanted. He just hated being away from her more than he had to. It was bad enough he had to go to work nearly every day. He loved his job, but he loved her more, and she needed him.
It felt good to be the one needed, instead of always needing to be taken care of. For years, that’s what he was for her, and it felt good to change their dynamic. After everything she did for him, he’d do anything to make her happy.
Looking back at his guest, he knew he would need her to be an active participant in the birth if everything was going to work out. He would have to uncover her mouth, which meant she was going to scream her head off. Thankfully, the property they’d recently inherited was in the middle of nowhere. She could scream all she wanted, and no one would be able to hear her. The nearest neighbor wouldn’t even notice if they threw a three-day music festival on their property.
Still, he hesitated. It felt so damn foreign to have the freedom to let his guest scream to her heart’s content. Their safety felt too precarious to test his theory, which was why he didn’t remove the tape from the mouth of his last guest. This time, he didn’t have a choice. Not if he wanted to make sure nothing terrible happened to the baby.
“I’m going to remove the tape...you can go ahead and scream, I know you want to. Just know, it won’t do you any good. There’s no one around that can hear you besides me, and I won’t help you. I can’t.”
She stared up at him, her body still until another contraction ripped through her. The contractions seemed really close together, but he had no idea what it meant or what was happening. TV made things look so easy, but the videos he’d watched proved them wrong. And now, not knowing was driving him crazy.
Reaching over, he yanked at the end of the piece of tape over her mouth. In one swift movement, the tape was dangling from his clenched fist, and she was screaming at the top of her lungs. Although he’d been ready for the ear-piercing sound, it still caught him off guard. Shaking his head, he dropped the tape on the floor and left the building he’d converted into an operating room.
Outside, he could still hear her scream, but it wasn’t threatening to rupture his eardrums. Figuring he’d let her yell until she was hoarse, he started to pace along the field between the house and the outbuilding. He should’ve been done by now. He should’ve had everything cleaned up, his guest removed, and been on his way home. Instead, he was wasting time waiting for nature’s miracle to take place.
As her screams got quieter, he decided it was time to check on her. Maybe he’d get lucky, and they could hurry things along. The sun was starting to set, and he needed to get rid of her and get home. Inside the small building, her blood-curdling screams had turned into painful sounding sobs. He walked over to her and placed a comforting hand on her sweat-dampened forehead.
“Everything’s going to work out just fine. Is the baby ready to come out yet?” he asked softly.
She looked up at him, a defiant glint in her eye that disappeared as quickly as it came when another contraction rocked her.
“P...p...please don’t...oh god...don’t hurt my baby,” she said through clenched teeth, the words clipped and muffled.
“Oh, don’t worry. Your baby is going to be just fine. I promise.”
“I think he’s coming…”
He smiled. Finally, they could get the show on the road.
“Go ahead and push then.”
“I c...c...can’t. Not like this.”
Each of the videos he’d watched had the woman sitting up, legs spread wide. He hated doing it, but he would have to remove her restraints to get what he wanted. Starting with the one across her chest, he made quick work of each strap.
He kept a watchful eye on her to see if she’d take advantage of the situation, but it seemed like she was too far gone to try to get away. Either that or she was waiting him out, giving him a false sense of security before making her getaway.
“Don’t even bother trying,” he told her as he moved between her legs to check her out.
Holy hell, what he saw would traumatize him for life. The sight of blood didn’t bother him. Being elbows deep in the abdomen of a woman didn’t make him squeamish. But what he was getting a glimpse of now just wasn’t right.
“Is that the head? Oh wow, okay, well, go ahead and push or whatever to fi
nish this.”
He was so out of his depth in this situation, and he felt it more and more as every second passed. He should’ve just cut her open and called it good. Turning away from her, he took a deep breath. Women used to have babies all by themselves. Why couldn’t she do that now? He didn’t need to be a part of it.
“Oh god…” she moaned again.
Glancing over, he made sure everything seemed fine, then turned back around. The pattern continued for another few minutes while she continued to cry out in agony.
“You have to help...otherwise, he could die.”
Those words spurred him into action. He couldn’t let the baby die. If he did, all of this would be for nothing, and he’d have to start over again. He was too damn close to getting what he needed; all he had to do was pull the baby out, take care of the mom, and get on with it. How hard could it be compared to performing surgery in the back of a van?
Adjusting his gloves, he turned back to face his guest. Her face glistened with sweat as her features contorted from the pain. Replaying what he’d learned earlier, he went through the motions, following the instructions from the videos to a T, until he had the baby in his hands.
Finally, he had what he’d worked so hard for, and he could finish up and go home. His guest sobbed softly as he made sure the baby was okay. When the baby let out its first wail, letting everyone know he’d arrived, his guest cried louder. The sound should’ve made him rethink what was going to happen next. But he needed the baby more than she did.
“Say goodbye,” he told her as he brought the baby closer to her face.
“W...wh...why? Please…”
“Begging won’t change what’s going to happen. Say your goodbyes,” he said again, this time a little more sternly.
She started crying again, her arms reaching out for the baby. For a moment, he thought about putting the little boy into her arms.
What could it hurt for her to hold him just once?
But he didn’t have time for sentimental moments. He needed to get home, and he needed to get the baby to his rightful place.
“B...bye...my sweet. Oh, god, please don’t hurt me. Please.”
“You don’t need to worry about the baby. We’ll take good care of him.”
“Get it over with then,” she said, resolution steadying her voice.
She took one last look at her son, then turned away from them and closed her eyes. She put her arms and legs back down where they were before he’d removed her restraints. Proud of her strength, he moved the baby over so it rested in the crook of his left arm, then picked the scalpel up from where it sat unused on the table.
“Thank you,” he murmured before swiping the sharp instrument swiftly and surely across her throat.
Blood welled as her hands shot up to cover the wound. Her eyes flew open, shock filling them. Even though she’d known her life was over, she hadn’t expected it to happen this way. He watched as she started to choke on the blood, the light draining from her eyes.
Turning away from her, he rocked the baby gently as he made his way out of the building. He didn’t need to worry about her trying to run away. She only had a few minutes left, if that. He could let her bleed out while he took the baby to his new home. Then once the baby was settled with her, he’d come back, clean up, and take her body somewhere it would be found quickly. Their new property was big enough he could easily hide her body and have it never be found, but he wanted her family to have closure. It was the least he could do.
Plus, he didn’t want to do anything to draw attention to their peaceful existence. Eventually, a body would smell no matter how far down he buried it. And there was always a chance the property would change hands someday, and the body could be dug up. He didn’t want to leave that kind of legacy for his family.
The baby started to wail as he loaded him into the car seat in the back of his car. Hopefully, this would be exactly what she needed, so he didn’t have to go through any of this again.
But he would. He would do it a hundred times over if it was what she wanted, what she needed.
In the end, he’d do anything to make her happy.
Even if it meant he had to kill again.
Chapter Ten
“I still don’t understand why there’s such a lengthy gap between attacks. Why did he stop five years ago?” Cade asked as he pointed his chopsticks at the timeline Sloane had put on one of the whiteboards in the large conference room.
He was kicked back in one of the uncomfortable office chairs, his feet propped up on the table, chopsticks in one hand, a box of cold General Tso’s chicken in the other. His dark hair was a floppy mess of slightly curled locks, thanks to all of the times he’d swiped his hands through it since they’d started going over the case. They’d sent the rest of the team home an hour earlier, but Sloane hadn’t been ready to go, and neither had Reid or Cade.
Glancing to her right, she caught a glimpse of Reid, who had his head down on top of the table, his folded arms keeping his forehead from touching the surface. She’d seen him sit that way hundreds of times over the years while dealing with difficult cases or with her. It was something he did when he was stressed out. It helped him think and also kept anyone from being able to read his face.
“That’s the ten-million-dollar question. If he got what he wanted the first time, what happened to make him start again? If he stopped because he accidentally left Maggie Whitten alive, why come back now?” Reid asked, his voice slightly muffled by his arms. “Is five years a good enough elapsed time when hiding from the FBI, or did he come back for something else and decided to bring his baby stealing enterprise back to San Francisco. Or there’s always the prison aspect. Finally released after all this time, and now he can get back to killing.”
Stabbing his chopsticks back in the box, Cade ran his hand through his hair again, then rubbed at his right temple. They had more questions than answers, and it sucked. Sloane was frustrated, but she couldn’t let it distract her.
“We’ve got the analysts looking into all of those scenarios, including checking ViCAP for cases with similar MOs over the last few years, in case he did take his show on the road.”
“We should also look at the loved ones of the women who were suspects the first time. Just because she didn’t do it doesn’t mean her husband or best friend or cousin didn’t. They were your suspects for a reason. Now that we know our unsub is a man, it could be that someone did the deed for them instead,” Cade suggested.
Sloane knew from experience people who loved each other did crazy shit for each other. And to each other. She also knew there were many desperate people out there willing to do whatever it took to get what they wanted. A lot of people had fertility issues these days, and getting help was beyond expensive. Stealing a baby could be a hell of a lot cheaper and easier than jumping through the hoops to adopt or go through In Vitro Fertilization.
“Let’s check on all of the suspects from before, see if any of them suddenly have an unexplained kid or two,” Reid said as he lifted his head off the table.
Sloane nodded, adding the item to the list she was making, before throwing out her suggestion.
“We should also go back and reinterview the family members of the original victims. We need to see if any of them ever mentioned feeling like they were being watched or followed. That wasn’t something we focused on before, even though I mentioned it a few times. It seemed to me the unsub had to find these victims and the perfect time to attack them somehow. He didn’t just get lucky and find them by accident.”
“Good idea. It might have been brushed off by the earlier victims as easily as it was by the Simpsons.”
A surge of pride flowed through her at Cade’s approval. She immediately admonished herself for having that reaction but knew exactly why she did. This case had ruined her confidence as an agent, and it shouldn’t have. Despite years of great results, no one wanted to listen to what she had to say. She had no proof she was right except a gut feeling. That
feeling should’ve been enough, but it hadn’t been.
Now it was still all she had, but Cade didn’t seem to mind. He seemed to lean more heavily toward her way of thinking than Reid ever had. Whether he believed her or was just trying to keep her from losing it again, she wasn’t quite sure. Either way, she wasn’t going to take the support for granted.
What she was going to do was ignore how good looking the agent was. The last thing she needed was another FBI agent to break her heart. Hell, she wasn’t even really sure she had a heart to break anymore, but she didn’t need to find out. What would be hard to ignore was the weird tension between her and Cade. With the number of times she’d caught him looking at her, she knew he felt it too.
Too bad neither of them was in San Francisco to get laid. If that were the case, she might’ve taken him for a spin. But she was there to catch a killer, then head back to her sanctuary, not waste time having a bit of fun. She had a book to finish and a dog to pet, and solitude to enjoy.
Looking over at the clock on the wall, Sloane frowned. They were quickly approaching the nine-hour mark of Tasha’s abduction, and they still hadn’t heard about anyone finding a body anywhere nearby. The fact worried her more than it probably should.
“Are we wrong about this?” she asked, her voice a lot quieter than she intended.
Both men looked at her, their brows furrowed in confusion.
“Maybe Tasha was taken by someone else. He’s never held onto a woman this long before, so maybe she’s not one of his victims.”
“It all fits, though,” Cade countered.
“Except for his timeline. Normally, he waits longer between victims, so he has time to watch them and learn their routine.”
“We’re just assuming that’s why,” Reid pointed out, once again not fully on board with one of her theories.
“Although the stalking theory does make a whole lot of sense. I think Sloane’s on to something there, and when we go back and interview the families and Maggie Whitten, I think you’ll see she’s right on the money again.”
