Blood Web: Caitlin Diggs Series #1

by Gary Starta

  Diggs couldn’t very well quit midstream. To walk away from one of the biggest manhunts in history would be equivalent to returning a bestseller to the library without finishing the story. It made Diggs wonder. If she were simply a character in a book or movie, she would never simply resign from her assignment. What kind of ending would that be! A snowball emerging in hell would stand better odds of happening.

  She would have to come to terms with her parents’ wishes once this case was over with. To stop the next crazy scheme they might have in mind. Caitlin made her decision while visiting Boston. She was an investigator at heart. She served a purpose. And she wasn’t under the influence of any magic crystal to arrive at this revelation. Her job was a part of her. It all came down to genetics.

  Shenk offered to show Tara the basement first. Again this struck a strange chord with her. But she followed. Maybe he wants to get right down to business. Tara knew the second she looked at him, she would welcome the opportunity for sexual contact. The thought aroused her. She wondered why she was acting this way. If she were back in California, she would have demanded her suitor at least buy her a meal before conquest. But she followed this man down a stairway without further hesitation, as if an invisible leash was pulling her along. The thought of restraints further whetted her sexual appetite. Just what is he planning for me down here? Tara decided she was up for anything. She was never this promiscuous before, despite what Caitlin thought of her. But she had to at least ask. If they were going to hook up, knowing little more than each other’s names, what kind of protection did this Charlie Jones have?

  Schenker smiled at her question. Did he have protection? Why, of course he did, he thought mischievously. Heavens to Betsy! Purple mountains of majesty! Sweet Jesus of Bethlehem! It was hanging around his neck, stuffed underneath his shirt. How many times had it saved his life?

  Tara interpreted his earlier smirk as sexual foreplay. But the man who introduced himself as Charlie Jones was no longer smiling. He had realized why Tara had posed the question. She wanted to have protected sex with him. That meant she had no intent of procreating his bloodline. What kind of family values did this Diggs family cherish anyway? Casual and pointless sex–on the very first date no less!

  He wanted to tell her he had a wife waiting for him in Arkansas. She was with child. So Tara had better go fuck herself if she wanted to see any action; he was taken.

  The veins in Schenker’s necks bulged. Tara watched in horror. Right there, resting against a pulsating vein was a chain holding the crystal. Her heart dropped into her stomach from recognition. The Arrowhead Killer had reemerged and he was standing right in front of her! Tara had believed the press who said the threat was over. The newscaster said people should feel free to go the mall again and spend their hard-earned cash. No one would slaughter them or twist their heads off today. The only thing they had to fear was next month’s credit card statement.

  Tara thought her meeting with Caitlin would be fun. That all the hysteria, which propelled her parents to urge her to visit Caitlin, would just blow over like a summer rainstorm. Now she realized the sun wasn’t coming out anytime soon. Like lightning, Schenker lashed out her.

  “You slut!” He pushed her down against a wall made of sheet rock. For one absurd moment, Tara wondered why such rich people would allow such shoddy construction into their homes. But thoughts of finance faded quickly. Lukas Schenker had just backhanded her across the face. Her face stung from the blow. She was too disoriented to fight as he slid her body across the room to a wooden armless chair. Her head swam. Blood rushed in violent waves to her brain. She felt like she was about to pass out.

  Minutes later Schenker had her bound to the fancy chair with the paisley print cushions. He tied a few of Marty Carlson’s dress shirts together as rope. That would hold her. Tara Diggs wasn’t fighting to get away anyway. She was unconscious from fear. Lukas Schenker lusted after the fresh supply of seratonin. But a voice somewhere in his head screamed to wait: “Don’t kill the bait just yet. Caitlin Diggs should witness her sister’s death.”

  ***

  Diggs estimated she was about fifteen minutes from Middletown. Was that enough time to save Tara’s life? She made one more attempt to reach Rivers. This time her call finally got through, but she reached voice mail. She told Rivers to head directly for the Carlsons’ house, and most urgently, she implored, “Please don’t enter the residence before me.”

  Diggs reasoned Schenker wanted nothing else but her blood. She looked into the rear view mirror and found a face filled with regret. She had let Geoffrey die. And now fate had conspired to bring Tara to the brink of death. Maybe her one talent in life had deserted her. She was fooling herself into believing a lie. The falsehood tucked away in the back of her mind that told her she could still make a difference in this world, without Geoffrey’s support, yet she had failed miserably with the blowgun idea.

  She entertained retirement as the miles blew by, fearing she would never be the effective agent she once was. Diggs finally concluded that she would fire as many bullets into Schenker as necessary once she was sure Tara was out of harm’s way. Diggs would rather die than face life without Tara. The crystal was now merely an afterthought.

  ***

  Ross Fisher waited for Jonas Schumacher’s Hummer on Purgatory Road. When it passed by, Fisher would gun his Taurus into Schumacher. He hoped it would be enough to stop the enormous vehicle from reaching its destination. Fisher felt tiny flashes of pain spark throughout the crown of his head. Wolvington was reading his thoughts. How much longer could he sustain consciousness at this rate? He didn’t have time to ponder. The Hummer was coming, full steam ahead. Fisher gunned the engine.

  A horrendous barrage of pain ensued. His car emerged from the ditch, catching the tail end of Schumacher’s super-sized ride. The cars now aligned to form an “L” shape. Fisher had deterred Jonas for about five minutes. The major jumped out of his vehicle to find Fisher had barely scratched surface paint. Slumped over the wheel, Fisher lay motionless.

  Schumacher scoffed, tipping his khaki baseball cap toward him. “Soldier, you’ve done you’re part for your country.” Confident Fisher was dead, Schumacher pushed the Taurus off the road. He joked to himself as he reentered his vehicle. “Why did the reporter cross the road?” But the real answer was far too human for Jonas Schumacher to comprehend.

  ***

  Diggs’ vehicle screeched to a halt on the black pavement of the Carlson driveway. A metallic, orange-sunset colored Firebird sat in the drive a few yards adjacent to her. The car didn’t belong to Rivers, she was still en route–if she had gotten her message.

  Caitlin withdrew her gun and made her way to the house. Finding the front door open, she burst inside to find only the aftermath of the cyclone wind, which strewn paintings and potato chips all about the floor. She gingerly navigated herself through the parlor, headed for the futuristic kitchen she dreamed of one day acquiring. She checked the shiny glass reflections of the stove and ovens. No sign of Schenker. She turned left and entered a dining area. The last semblances of daylight poured through a skylight. The illumination nearly startled her enough to begin firing her revolver. She resisted the urge to call out to Tara, even though Shenk and his biological Internet had most likely detected her presence.

  ***

  Agent Rivers had revisited the same Kingstown bait and tackle shop she had obtained the blowgun from. She was delightfully surprised to find they had her requested weapon in stock. She didn’t think many hunters would use such a device on an animal. It was more probable that folks were buying such weapons to protect their valuables. Crime would eventually find its way to this paradise sooner or later. Deondra lost in thought, daydreamed of a life spent on a beach. She wasn’t totally focused on the sales clerk wrapping her purchase. He smiled at her, believing her to be Halle Berry. He couldn’t wait to tell his buddies—a real Hollywood actress was taking up residence in his small island state.

  Rivers ignored the grin
ning man’s advances. She threw cash on the counter; both relieved and upset to find the man had sold her a weapon without an identity check. She jumped into her Pathfinder and retrieved a message waiting for her. Filled with adrenaline, she jumped on the accelerator, leaving a waft of dust behind her. The starry-eyed salesman watched from the store window. He beamed. “Those Hollywood types always do have a few screws loose.”

  Although its engine whined, the Pathfinder seemed to be going in slow motion. It was like those dreams when your feet are balled up in covers. You try to run from the hulking green monster chasing you, but your legs won’t move. The cars in front of her on Route 138 apparently weren’t tracking down a monster. For them, it was just another pleasant scenic drive. Rivers cursed their leisure as a whole line of them began to stack together in front of her like dominoes, just yards away from the Middletown town line.

  She improvised, steering her vehicle off road. It wended a precarious path over freshly mowed front lawns. Homeowners raced from their porches to catch the trespassing vehicle. Deondra flashed her ID badge while large divots of turf spewed all about her car. Rivers finally found an open space of legal roadway, just as a mob of neighbors began to form a pack behind her. She plunged the Pathfinder into it, jackknifing amidst a blaring of horns. With any luck, she would reach her destination in five minutes.

  ***

  Agent Diggs didn’t feel like she had five more minutes to spare. The suspense literally ate away her insides. Well, maybe the rich desserts were more responsible for the loud grumbling currently emanating from her stomach. Schenker had to know she was here by now.

  As she warily spied the opening in the skylight, two hands began to present themselves from beneath a nearby mahogany dining table. Diggs believed Schenker had previously entered the house taking advantage of the partially open skylight. Criminals usually return to the scene of the crime. So she kept her eyes glued to the window.

  Her focus benefited her attacker immensely. He now had both hands firmly wrapped around each of the agent’s ankles. She screamed as if a slimy snake had attached itself to her. The protest did nothing to deter Schenker who began rocking the agent forwards.

  Her head and arms came to an unpleasant stop. The top half of her body sprawled across the dining table; her lower half was in possession of Schenker. The jolt knocked the gun from her hand. It skipped like a coin along the brilliantly polished wooden ornament, coming to a rest just before the edge of the table. The gun lay approximately three feet from Diggs. Her arm could not reach it. Not with her feet secured to the floor by Schenker. The imagery was sickening. Here she was lying helpless across the dinner table. All Schenker needed were plates and silverware.

  And while she lay pinned against the table, fighting for her freedom, things outside were only getting worse. Major Jonas Schumacher had just parked his Hummer along Purgatory Road.

  Chapter 37

  FBI Director Hainsworth smiled at Wolvington’s news. Major Schumacher would soon take possession of the crystal. That meant he would soon get rid of Agent Diggs. It was highly unlikely she was going to survive a showdown with Lukas Schenker. Hainsworth exhaled, relieved the truth about the Miami sting operation would never be exposed. People would still believe Agent Geoffrey McAllister was sent into the line of fire to stop terrorism. They would also believe the fight against terror would be a long and hard one. So deceptively long, in fact, it would allow McAllister’s murderers enough time to not only see their Boston-based software firm flourish, but also give them carte blanch to commit large-scale identity theft from abroad.

  Hainsworth impressed on the media that McAllister died in a failed sting operation. “The men who killed Agent McAllister believed he could sell them automatic weapons. These men apparently killed McAllister when they found out otherwise.” McAllister’s death accomplished two things for Hainsworth: it took attention away from the cell’s fraudulent activity, and it made the FBI director appear he was fighting terror hands on. Hainsworth linked the murder with gun smuggling. The press and the rest of the bureau bought Hainsworth’s story without ever finding a single firearm.

  The truth was that Hainsworth was privately bartering with a terrorist cell. He was operating in direct violation of policy set forth by the president. Connah Hainsworth would allow the terrorists to commit theft, piracy, almost any despicable crime, in exchange for one thing—that they would not harm a single civilian on American soil again.

  Hainsworth desired peace for the moment, to buy more time, so he could set a bigger plan in motion. Most of America foolishly believed he actually gave a damn about their lives. They didn’t know he had suddenly become estranged from his wife. She had been the first to hear of Hainsworth’s ultimate plan. She dared not tell anybody. It sounded ludicrous and, in turn, it would only serve to damage her reputation. Hainsworth counted on this, just as he depended on McAllister’s killers to keep quiet about the bogus sting operation.

  Diggs and Dudek were the only two law enforcement officials left wondering how Hainsworth allowed murderers to escape into offshore waters so easily. To keep the truth buried, Hainsworth immediately listed the case as inactive. Diggs went on leave. Dudek backed off. Hainsworth enjoyed a few months of peace, until Diggs came back into the picture. The dangerous manhunt she came back to was just too good to be true. She needed to be quieted—for good. Lukas Schenker could be used for this purpose quite nicely.

  ***

  Diggs was on the ropes, struggling to break free of her attacker’s grasp. She couldn’t reach her weapon and was about to lose her grasp of the table. Lukas still underneath the table, pulled harder on her ankles, hoping to trip her and pin her to the ground. Caitlin decided it might be best not to let that happen.

  She needed a diversion. The only thing within her grasp was a glass vase. The flowers it held were elegant, such a waste of beauty on such an ugly man. She feigned a coughing fit. Surely, Lukas would show either some mercy or at least poke his head up from underneath the table to look at her. He did. And the flowers were delivered. The vase cracked against Schenker’s skull. Glass flew. Diggs looked away for what seemed just a nanosecond, just enough time to shield her eyes.

  In the same second, she multitasked in an effort to regain her weapon. She propelled herself across the table, flailing her arms like a swimmer. She secured her weapon and rolled onto the floor, landing feet first. Her eyes darted to the left and to the right. But no one was in the room. Where did he go this time?

  Diggs took a small step and called out Tara’s name. She heard a muffled cry from below. Tara was still alive! She rounded the corner to exit the dining are without stopping. Her sister needed her, even if there was a maniac waiting just outside the door.

  In her haste, she stumbled over Schenker’s body. He was still on the ground, lying face down in the hallway. He had jettisoned himself there via somersault. Diggs hit the ground hard. Again her gun was knocked loose. But this time it was well within her reach. She grabbed the gun, and Schenker grabbed her in a bear hug.

  She wondered why he wasn’t using more elaborate trickery. Maybe his seratonin level was depleted? If so, the tranquilizer could have been the cause. The very thought gave Diggs courage. She was back in form. She struck Schenker hard with the heel of her hand, the blow landing perfectly between Schenker’s eyes. She leaped to her feet, hoping he would follow. She needed to bait him, to get him outside and away from Tara. She gambled a left turn might lead to an exit. She hobbled along with gun in hand, ankles swollen. The sight of a screen porch gave her an adrenaline boost.

  ***

  Rivers shot right past Schumacher. She bailed out of the Pathfinder, not even taking the time to kill the engine or shut the driver’s door. Similar to the name of the road he had parked on, Major Schumacher felt like he was in purgatory. He was instructed to let the agents take the fall and not to engage in any kind of negotiation of force to pry away the crystal from Schenker.

  Still, the arrival of Rivers encouraged Schuma
cher. Hopefully, Schenker would kill two agents with one stone. He would then swoop down on the prize like the vulture he always was. What a waste, he thought to himself. That Agent Rivers is one hot babe.

  ***

  Diggs rammed the screen door open with her shoulder and bolted through it into the Carlsons’ backyard. She could feel Schenker’s breath on her. He was closing in fast. She was only ten yards from the dwelling when he pounced on her back. She felt the jolt in her lower body and crumpled to the ground. The impact knocked the wind from her. Schenker rolled her over so she would have no choice but to look at him. He restrained himself with all his might from smacking her face with his hand. She tried to control her breathing, remembering the techniques Stanford Carter had recently taught her. She relaxed her diaphragm, and soon air flowed freely into her lungs, despite the weight on top of her.

  Diggs realized the end was near. She had no means to subdue her attacker. Her gun knocked from her grasp for the third time, lay more than an arm’s length away. In that same instant, Lukas reflected upon finality as well, Caitlin Diggs’ finality to be precise. He ultimately wanted Caitlin to witness her sister’s death. But Diggs had altered the playing field. Shenk didn’t think he would be able to drag Caitlin back into the house and down the basement stairs in his current condition. His body was at less than optimum energy. He would have to settle for a meal on the run.

  As Schenker contemplated his prey, Rivers ran through the house. She brandished her new weapon in the air, crying her partner’s name three times with no response. Where was she? Her vehicle was parked in the driveway. Did Schenker make her magically disappear? Rivers raced through the kitchen. She cocked her head toward the dining room. It was clear. Now in the hallway, Rivers could turn left or right to maintain pursuit. To her horror, she saw blood drops on the rug. They were heading left.

  ***