She managed to maneuver to her knees. The pull of the wire taped to her torso reminded Ellie she wasn’t truly alone. Of course, the range on the device wasn’t that far, but if they were monitoring her, she still might be able to give them a clue as to her location.
Ellie dismissed the idea. Talk might antagonize him. The man knocked her out once. He obviously meant her harm. The longer she played dead, the better her chance for survival. She had to survive, had to give Kurt a way to somehow, in some way find her.
Her determination was nearly squelched when her captor hit a deep pothole. She fell, face first and another jolt jounced her hard against the floor. Ellie gritted her teeth to keep from crying out. He swerved sharply around a corner, tumbling her forward on her head then back to her knees. Another sharp turn and they stopped with a jerk.
He cut the engine and opened the door on silent hinges. He was less careful about closing it. Then the rear door swung open. Icy cold air swirled about her. Ellie prayed she could suppress a shiver. He grabbed her shoulders. She had to stay limp, keep her eyes closed, make him work to get her out of the car, delay whatever fate he had in store for her.
When he couldn’t lift her shoulders up and through the door, he grabbed her bound wrists and pulled. A hot spear of pain stabbed Ellie between her shoulder blades. Her face twisted with a grimace. She prayed he couldn’t see her. He yanked again. Sheer stubborn will kept her silent.
Muttering a curse, he wrapped her long hair around his fist and tugged. Strands ripped from her scalp. Tears slipped from beneath her lids. She sent up another prayer of thanks when he finally gave up. Next he grabbed handfuls of dress material. Seams ripped as he hoisted her higher and higher then dropped her onto the seat face down.
The car sagged as he crawled in beside her. Cold metal touched her hands. There was a tug and she was free. He’d cut the bonds from her wrists, probably in an attempt to better carry her.
Now what? Did she try to make a run for it? Not yet. She’d wait until he actually got her out of the car.
He pulled her arms forward and wrapped his thick hands around her wrists. With one long pull, he heaved her out onto the driveway. Concrete ripped a hole in her dress, tore her pantyhose, and scraped her knees.
The man squatted down beside her, rolled her to her back, straddled her and grabbed her wrists once more.
Now!
Ellie plowed her knees deep into his crotch. His howl of pain ripped the night as he clutched the offended body part, then toppled to his side on the concrete. Ellie kicked off her high heels and sprinted down the street. A few darkened, fenced houses surrounded them, but Ellie had no idea whether or not the gates were unlocked or if anyone was home. She decided she couldn’t risk being trapped inside a fenced yard, so she kept running and began shouting.
"Help! Somebody help me!"
Nothing. Not so much as one light clicked on.
Just aim for the cross street. Aim for where the lights are.
Ellie knew the futility of such a goal. The desert played tricks with distance. The safety she thought she could see could be miles away, not blocks. Asphalt cut into her shoeless feet, still she beat a path toward what she hoped was help.
Run. Run.
Her steps echoed off silent houses. Fear struck as she realized it was no echo—the man was coming up fast behind her. She tried one last, desperate attempt.
"Help! Fire!"
A flying tackle smashed her to the ground. Air whooshed from her lungs. He yanked her head up by the hair, weighed her body down with his groin indecently pressed to her backside. A porch light clicked on, glinting on the blade of a pocket knife in her captor’s hand. He pressed the tip against the pulse at her throat.
"One word and I’ll cut you here and leave you to die. It doesn’t much matter to me how I get you out of my life. I just want those pictures and videos."
So, this was about Susan’s blackmailing, not the ketamine. That gave her something to work with, but not much. She felt his erection growing against her and prayed it wouldn’t come to that. He seemed to be excited by her lying helpless beneath him as well as the possibility she would struggle or try to shout for help.
The porch light went out, and with it, Ellie’s last hope of quick rescue. As much as she longed to cry out, the knife against her throat was too great a risk.
He waited a few minutes longer. With a slash, he cut a strip of her hem away and bound her wrists together.
"Now, we’re going to play things my way." He hauled her to her feet.
"I’m telling you, you got the wrong person."
"I saw Duncan pick you up at the bar. I followed. I’ve been following you ever since. I’ve got the right woman all right. Red hair, brown hair, it doesn’t matter. I know it’s you. I’m sick and tired of them dragging their heels with you. This shit’s gonna end tonight."
With the knife blade poking her ribs, he forced her back to the house. Each step his grip on her elbow grew a little tighter, more intense. She realized that as angry as he was now, it was a wonder she was still alive.
As they walked up the driveway, Ellie saw yellow crime tape draped over the front door. She desperately tried to take note of the house numbers, the yard, the house itself, and those around it. Black film covered all the windows. It looked like no one could see in or out of the place.
"You didn’t think I’d remember, did you, pumpkin? But I did. I sat outside your little condo last night and thought real hard about where you took me the night you fucked my brains out."
He shoved an evil leer in her face. "I was pretty drunk that night, but it finally came to me. Yes it did. It took a little searching, I’ll admit, but I’d be damned if I’d let someone like you get the better of me. And now, we’re back. Aren’t you glad to be back?"
He tore the tape away with a swipe of his hand, then reached above the sill and pulled down a key. He unlocked the door and shoved her inside. Ellie stumbled and fell onto the dusty carpet. A flick of his wrist flooded the room with dim light from a bare bulb hanging from the center of the ceiling. Other than a large sofa and a beat-up dinette set in the kitchen, there was no furniture.
"On your feet." He grabbed her arm and yanked her up. "Into the bedroom with you."
"No…please… I’m telling you, you have the wrong person."
He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her in that direction, flipping switches as he went. "Where are they, bitch?"
Ellie struggled to keep her wits about her, to not show fear. It was impossible. Her abductor wouldn’t listen to reason.
He kicked open a door at the far end of the hall. Mirrors covered the room and ceiling. A four-poster king-sized bed covered with a black and gold velvet bedspread dominated the room. The whole thing looked like a cheap porn set gone bad. One shove and she stumbled against the mattress.
He didn’t give her time to recover. Smashing her down, he cut another length of her dress, bound one leg, flipped her to her back and bound the other.
Ellie stared at the huge mirror hovering over her. Her own reflection stared back, skin white with shock, eyes huge dark smudges. She’d give just about anything not be to able to see what he was about to do to her, but she had transcribed testimony of such events. She knew. Tears threatened. Closing her eyes, she gathered her courage and thought of Kurt.
There was a violent tug against her dress, then the sound of ripping material. Cool air brushed her exposed skin.
"What the hell is this!" He grabbed the edge of the tape holding the wire in place. "Trying to get more ammo against me?" With one yank, he tore the wire away and skin with it.
Ellie couldn’t help it—she cried out.
"Shut up. That’s the least you’ll get if you don’t give me what I want." He nestled the blade between her breasts, then sliced her bra in two. And, finally, he cut away what remained of her panty hose.
"There. Now…you’re going to give me what I want."
Couldn’t the monster see she wasn’t the same wom
an? She and Susan looked nothing alike. Her breasts were larger, Susan was fuller in the hips and stomach. Why didn’t he see?
She felt his body cover hers. Nauseated, she bit back bile and squeezed her eyes tighter.
"Scared?" He laughed. "Good." Hot breath and teeth grazed her neck. "Where are the pictures, the tapes?"
"I don’t know," she choked out on a sob.
He shifted down to her right breast. "Where?"
"I swear I…"
He bit her—hard. Ellie screamed. He bit the other breast harder. Her stomach. Each mouthful mocked her lack of power, her inability to escape.
"Please, don’t! I don’t know! Please!"
Lower he slipped, viciously biting her thighs, her calves, then he settled between her legs. His breath curled against the most intimate part of her body.
"Tell me or I swear I’ll bite it off. Then I’ll start cutting that pretty little face of yours. "
"No! No, I’ll take to where they are," she sobbed. Damn, Susan. Damn her to hell.
* * *
Kurt must have driven down this same street half a dozen times. No sign of the white Grand Am, Ellie, or Parsons. He’d passed Tripp earlier and they’d split the town. Jess’ appearance soon after divided the area in smaller chunks. Every so often they crossed paths to exchange information. Nothing.
He spied the surveillance van approaching ahead. Jess flashed his lights, telling Kurt to stop. He obliged, pulled up alongside, and buzzed his window down.
"Anything?"
"Possibly," Jess replied. "Tripp just radioed. He went by that house Forton rented and found Ellie’s shoes in the driveway. Told us to meet him there. Kurt… I’m sorry. He’s already searched the house. There was no sign of her."
Kurt pulled a fast three point turn and sped in the direction Jess gave him. What the hell reason would Parsons have to take her to Forton’s? Was he involved in the ketamine, too? His head spun.
Within minutes he braked to a stop in front of Forton’s former hideaway. Jess was close behind. Local police had beaten them both to the scene. One barred their march to the house. A flash of a badge and a wave from Tripp released them to pass the crime boundary line.
"What did you find?" he demanded to know. "Is there any sign of her?"
His cousin motioned him past the crime scene tape into the barren kitchen, then waited for Jess to catch up.
"I found her high heels discarded in the driveway. The tape on the door was ripped away. After calling it in to the locals, I went in. They were already gone. I found what looked to be drops of blood leading from the bedroom to the living room door."
He paused and then forced his gaze Kurt’s way. "Her pantyhose and dress were torn off her and left behind. It looks like he wrapped her in part of the bedspread. The other half is upstairs."
Kurt grabbed Tripp by the front of the shirt. "Are you saying she’s dead? Is that what you’re saying?"
Jess peeled his hands away. "Calm down, son. If she was dead, there’d be a whole lot more blood than just a few drops."
Kurt shrugged away Jess’ hand. "Not if he strangled her or just cracked her skull with his fist."
"Why do you always do that?" Tripp snapped. "Why do you always think the worst? Damnit, Kurt!"
Jess pulled to his full height. "You two know each other?"
The silence lasted a full minute before they both replied, "He’s my cousin."
The older agent snorted and shook his head. "Another Duncan… I’ll deal with this little revelation later." He took a deep breath. "All right. What made you decide to look for her here?"
Tripp pulled in a breath. "Since she and this house seemed to be the link to the ketamine it was a logical conclusion."
"This isn’t about the ketamine," Kurt pushed out through barred teeth.
Tripp lifted an eyebrow. "Isn’t it?"
Kurt didn’t know any more. He raked his fingers through his hair while Jess gave his cousin the rundown on their other investigation.
"All right," Tripp said when he was through. "Let’s dissect this logically. What does Parsons want?"
Kurt loosed a frustrated sigh. Yes, logic, that’s what they needed. "The tapes and pictures Susan Bolotnik’s been using to blackmail him."
"He’s obviously not the brightest star in the sky. Patience is not a virtue to this man. So he decides to jump to conclusions and take matters into his own hands." Tripp stared into space and rubbed the dark stubble on his jaw. "Does Ellie know where Susan lives, and would she give her up to Parsons?"
"Yes." Kurt didn’t hesitate. He ran for the door. She wasn’t stupid. She was a survivor. Now all they had to do was get to her in time.
* * *
Wrapped in the bedspread, Ellie drove the man’s car to Susan’s house. Her captor never once took the knife from her throat. An unfilled pothole, a hard turn, and she’d be dead. His huge hand jolted slightly as Ellie drove over a dip in the road and a hot line of blood trickled down her neck and over her breast. The nightmare drive seemed to stretch out forever, but she saw her turnoff and pulled to a stop in front of Susan’s darkened house.
He shoved her hard toward the car’s door and ordered her to do as she was told. Ellie was too traumatized to resist his command.
Shaking, she crawled from the vehicle, clutching the heavy bedspread around her. She lifted her hand to the doorbell. He batted it down.
"No. I’ll take care of this." He smashed his boot against the wood. It collapsed inward, a splintered mess.
"In." Grabbing her once more in that paralyzing grip, he pulled her across the threshold with him. Light poured from the bedroom area. He hustled her in that direction. They met Susan halfway down the hall.
The young woman’s jaw opened on a silent gasp. She jerked the belt tighter on her satin robe.
"Don’t bother." With a jerk of his hand, he pulled the belt free.
Susan was naked beneath the robe, a fact she didn’t bother to hide. Surely now he would notice she was the woman he sought.
"What the hell is this about?" Her voice was arrogant, rude, queen-like.
"I want those pictures and tapes."
A smirk lifted her lip. She tucked her arms over her chest and kicked out her hip. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. Ellie, what have you dragged me into? You two had better get the hell out of my house or I’m calling the cops."
A growl tore from his throat. A heartbeat later, he smashed his hand across Susan’s face, once, twice. Her head snapped back. Blood spurted from her nose. She hugged the wall in a gasping effort to regain balance. The confident look from a moment before had been replaced by pure fear.
"In the bedroom…both of you. I’m going to get what I want one way or the other."
They had to do something. They were two against one. Surely they could surprise him, outfox him. But Ellie couldn’t pull free of his inhumanly strong grip, and Susan seemed too dazed to understand the severity of their situation.
As he had in the other house, he bound them both to Susan’s bed. This time he tied Ellie’s leg to Susan’s, spread eagle for all the world to see.
That seemed to amuse him. He paced at the end of the bed, staring, laughing, aroused.
"Working together, I’ll bet. Taking turns with the troops. Eeny, meenie, minie, mo…" He pointed to each one, then settled on Susan. Crawling between her legs, he unzipped his pants. "This is how you like it, isn’t it, pumpkin? I could do this all night…to both of you."
The bed bounced for what seemed any eternity. Ellie squeezed her eyes shut against the horror and wished she could do the same to her ears.
Susan cried out for help, for mercy. "Parsons, Stop! Please, stop! Don’t do this to me!" It only made him wilder.
His grunts, his laughter, his cry of victory when he finished, it was a nightmare forever etched in her memory. And her turn was coming.
She dared a glance at Susan after he was done. Her one-time friend stared into space, wide-eyed, vacant, a zombie. If not for
her shallow breathing, Ellie would swear she was dead. Susan had broken during the rape.
Cigarette smoke drifted her way. Ellie focused her gaze to its source, to him. An evil grin split his features. He strolled toward her, cigarette poised, a thin silver stream drifting up from its burning end.
"Now…where shall I start? I know…on that pretty little face of yours." He took a deep drag of the cigarette, and leaned over her with its red glow trapped between his ragged nails.
Ellie’s eyes widened in horror as the ember grew closer and closer. She could feel the heat.
"Get the hell away from her!" Kurt hurled himself across the room and smashed full-force into Parsons.
Ellie saw another flash of movement, more men. Jess…Jess was here. Dimly, she was aware she was naked and that there were strange men in the room, but somehow it didn’t matter. They swarmed around Parsons and Kurt. A vaguely familiar dark-haired man around Kurt’s age cut them loose. He helped pulled Susan upright, then reached for Ellie.
Kurt shoved him back. "No, Tripp. I’ll take care of her."
The look on his face was painful to see as he loosened the cut ropes, then reached for the edges of the bedspread. His gaze passed over her, pausing at the bloody bites that marked her body. His face paled, then flushed crimson. His eyes blazed like blue diamonds.
"Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch!"
A roar tore from his throat. Kurt whirled around on Parsons, pounding blow after blow into him, chest, face, gut. Ellie clutched the cover around her and scrambled to the far side of the room. Jess shouted at him to shout. The man he called Tripp did, too. Nothing pierced Kurt’s rage.
He hauled the big man up by the shirt, lifting him off his feet. Ellie had never seen such strength. He hurled Parsons against the bed, then continued his assault kneeling on the man’s chest, pounding him with blow after blow. The force of the struggle, their combined weight, broke the bed. With a groan and a shriek of tortured wood, the entire thing collapsed.
JUDGING ELLIE Page 21
