by Anne Patrick
"Brad Cartwright…You saw him with one of the victims?"
"Yeah, but I don't remember…"
Austin was already out the door, chastising himself for not putting it together sooner. It all made perfect sense now. Brad was from her past, he fit the physical description as well as the mental profile, his mother had died within the last eight months, and he had done the autopsies on the victims.
"I need every available man you have. I've got a federal agent who's just been abducted from the hospital and her life is in extreme danger," Austin told the 911 operator he'd talked to only a short while ago. It took every ounce of his reserve to remain calm. "I need you to patch me through to Detective Marx."
The dispatcher quickly informed him he was at a crime scene.
"I don't care where he is, I need to speak to him now…I don't care about protocol, an FBI agent is missing…Let me talk to your supervisor." Austin remembered Agent Washington's card he'd given him. "Never mind, lady, I haven't got time."
He fumbled through his billfold till he found the card Washington had given him and dialed his personal number. The agent answered on the second ring. "This is Sheriff Garrett in Oregon, I hope you've got a lot of clout with the FBI."
"What's wrong?"
"I haven't time to go into detail. A guy named Brad Cartwright has abducted Jo from Portland Regional Hospital. He's a medical examiner with the state, but I don't have an address on him and I can't seem to get any cooperation. If we've any hopes of finding Jo alive, I need help and I need it now."
"Are you at the hospital?"
"Yeah. I first phoned the local police thirty minutes ago when I found the deputy assigned to her strangled in the men's room."
"Stay on the line," Washington instructed. Several minutes passed before he was back on the line. "Help is on the way," he said and went on the give him Cartwright's address. "Wait for backup, Sheriff. Don't go in alone; you could put Jo's life at risk. I've got a plane standing by and I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Thank you, Sir."
"Austin"
"Yeah?"
"She's going to be all right."
Since he wasn't familiar with the area, it took Austin twenty minutes to find the street. The location of the house was easy, though; there were two black Suburban's parked in front, their plates confirming they were government owned. A well-dressed man in his mid-forties approached him as he got out of his Jeep.
"Sheriff Garrett?" the man asked. Austin nodded, praying silently that he wasn't about to confirm his worst fear, that he was too late and that Jo was already dead. "I'm Special Agent in Charge, Mark Stevens, with the Portland field office. I'm afraid they're not here."
"What do you mean they're not here? It's the right address, isn't it?" He glanced at the address he'd jotted down and compared it to the number on front of the two-story house.
"There's no doubt this is where your man lives."
Austin didn't like the sound of that. It was obvious they'd found something. "I'd like to go in."
"Sure, but I'm warning you, it's not a pretty sight."
Austin swallowed hard, and then took a deep breath in preparation for what he was about to see. With Agent Stevens leading the way, they walked through the growing crowd of law enforcement officers, toward the aging two-story house. The first and second floors offered nothing out of the ordinary, and having known Brad for a couple of years, it seemed odd being there and seeing the other agents going through his personal belongings.
When they entered the basement, his worse fears came to light. It finally sunk in that Brad Cartwright, believed by all those around him to be a perfectly normal man, was indeed the sadistic mad man depicted in Jo's profile. The one they'd hunted for almost a month and he was right there in under their nose the whole time.
Numbed by the realization that Brad was the killer, Austin glanced at his surroundings. To his left was an old white antique bathtub. Two agents in latex gloves hovered around it searching for prints and evidence of blood.
"Over here is his trophy case," Agent Stevens said.
Austin followed his gaze to a white freezer against the north wall where another agent stood taking photographs.
His stomach felt as if it was caught in a vise, as he approached to have a look. His eyes widened in horror when he saw the victim's heads lined up beside one another. He barely recognized them from their photographs. He noticed they were positioned in the order the bodies had been found, but there was an extra one that Austin didn't recognize. His first thought was of Jo and the nausea overwhelmed him to the point he had to turn away.
"We think the first one there was his girlfriend. There's a photograph of the two of them together upstairs."
Austin swallowed hard at his words, only mildly relieved. Jo had been right all along; Margaret Miller hadn't been his first victim.
"He left a message for us on the work bench."
As if in a trance, Austin turned and followed the agent to the east side of the basement. All the horror he'd seen and read about over the past seventeen years in law enforcement was nothing in comparison to what he felt as he read the note lying on the wooden surface of the workbench.
'YOU'RE TOO LATE. SHE'S MINE. SHE ALWAYS HAS BEEN!'
Austin continued to stare at the note, converting all his fear and terror of the last half hour into anger. Anger so great, that it frightened him.
"Do you have any idea where he might have taken her?"
"If I knew that, Agent Stevens, I wouldn't be standing here with the contents of my gut stuck in my throat." Austin's cell phone rang and he reached to answer it.
"I've got a match," Slim said, "But there has to be some mistake."
"There's no mistake, Slim," he said, knowing the photograph on the driver's license was one of Brad Cartwright. "I'm standing in his basement right now. No question about it, Cartwright's our man, and he's taken Jo."
"What!"
"I found Pendergrass strangled in the men's room, and Jo's missing. Cartwright is the last person she was seen with."
"Oh no. We've got to find her, Austin."
"I know that, Slim, but I haven't a clue where to look. He could have taken her anywhere. The FBI is here with me searching his place, but I doubt they'll find anything that will lead us to them. He's too smart for that."
"What can we do to help?"
"Stay put for now. I'll let you know if we come up with anything." He started to hang up but then considered their only other option. "Slim, she needs our prayers."
*****
Jo struggled to keep her eyes open. It was dark now and the bright beams of the car's headlights illuminated the gravel road they were traveling on. All she could see out of the corner of her eyes were trees on either side of the road. She immediately thought of the dumpsites she'd visited over the past few weeks and it sparked a fear in her so great she screamed. Only no sound came out. She struggled to move, but nothing happened. Glancing downward, she saw the seat belt strapped across her, securing her arms to her body.
"We're almost home, Jo. Just relax."
A sense of relief came over her at the thought of home. Home was in Virginia though, or at least it used to be. Only recently had she thought of Claremont as home. Before she'd met Austin and Bailey, she'd never felt anywhere was really home.
It dawned on her it wasn't Austin's voice she'd heard a moment ago. Again, she tried to move. First her hands, then her arms and feet, only they wouldn't move.
Disoriented and confused, she searched her memory for some kind of explanation. She remembered visiting Billy. She remembered running into Brad in the hallway and going to the cafeteria for a soda, but after that, nothing.
A wave of nausea came over her and for a moment she was afraid she was going to vomit. 'What's wrong with me, why can't I move? Why can't I remember?' Jo tried again. She was with Brad at the hospital…what happened to him? Was it his voice she heard earlier? They'd gone to the cafeteria together…he brought her a soda�
�she started feeling strange after drinking it. She became disoriented…he offered to take her to his place to lie down…he said it wasn't far from the hospital. Had he put something in it? Why would he put something in her drink?
Her mind worked frantically to recall the events leading up to now. She thought of the profile she'd developed only days ago. Good looking, charming, thirty-five to forty-five years old, lives in Portland, has family or friends living in Claremont. 'No! It can't be.' He couldn't be the man they're looking for. It was absurd to think Brad was the man responsible for the deaths of six women.
'The string represents a bond between them.'
Jo reconsidered the possibility. Brad had a close relationship with his mother, practically worshiped the woman. Then when she died, leaving him all alone, resentment grew in him for the type of woman his mother was. Along with that resentment grew the obsession for the woman who'd chosen her career over him.
'Oh no! It's true. It is Brad.' He'd taken the bodies to Claremont knowing it was Jo's hometown and that she'd be more willing to return to Claremont because her family still lived there. Everything fit, the profile, the reasoning behind his motive. Being a medical examiner, he was familiar with police procedure. He had access to the bodies and had done most of the autopsies himself.
Her vision began to blur from the tears forming in her eyes at the realization that a man she had once loved and admired had planned and executed the murders of six innocent women. Had stripped them not only of their lives but also of their ability to try and survive. He'd seduced, drugged, and then killed them. They never even had a chance to fight back. That was what bothered Jo most, the fact that these women, who in their daily lives had been in complete control of their lives, had been robbed of that weapon.
Jo's head jerked forward involuntarily as the car came to a halt. She gazed out the windshield and saw an old rundown farmhouse, illuminated by the headlights, just on the other side of a wrought iron fence. She heard the driver's side door open and it wasn't but just a second her fears were confirmed when she caught sight of Brad in the car's headlights, digging in his pocket for the keys to the gate. With the gate unlocked he turned and approached the car, briefly glancing toward her. Jo fought the idea that this was the same man she'd once worked with, the same man with whom she had once been in love.
"You're starting to put the pieces together, aren't you? I knew you would sooner or later." Brad took her hand.
Jo wanted to vomit at his touch. Just the thought of him ever laying another hand on her evoked a rage she hadn't felt in two years.
"It won't be long now, my love. I've waited so long for this night to come."
Her eyes blinked involuntarily and she felt a tear strike her cheek. He quickly brushed it away and smiled.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Austin continued to pace the floor. It'd been almost an hour since his arrival and no one had a clue as to where Brad had taken Jo. He fought hard to control his fear that they wouldn't find her in time. 'Hang in there, Jo.'
"The airport and bus stations are covered," Agent Stevens informed. "We're checking with the local authorities as to whether or not Cartwright owns any other houses, and we've got agents at the morgue questioning co-workers."
"Well, I can't stand around here any longer. I've got to do something to try and find her." Austin climbed the steps of the basement.
Federal agents were combing every inch of the house, looking for clues to Brad's whereabouts. Outside the house had been cordoned off and neighbors were starting to gather just on the other side of the yellow tape.
Austin climbed into his Jeep Cherokee and sat frozen momentarily, his mind attempting to process everything that'd happened the past several weeks, hoping to come up with something that would give him an idea as to where Brad had taken Jo.
Beginning with the discovery of the first body he went over each file in his mind. All the bodies had been found within a twenty-mile radius of Claremont, a fact that offered little help other than that he knew the area. It wasn't until Jo's arrival that they learned anything useful to the investigation. He thought back to when they were just beginning to work together as a team. It was on that trip to Salt Lake City that he'd learned the details of her breakup with Brad, and that he'd chosen to stay in Oregon to be close to his mother instead of choosing a life with Jo. That should have been his first clue that the guy was nuts.
Austin recalled the details of that conversation. He remembered telling Jo about a conversation he'd had with Brad a few months earlier. Brad's mother had owned land in Caldwell County and he was curious about its value. That's it…that's where he's taken her. He grabbed his cell phone and called the sheriff's department. Slim answered.
"It's Austin. I need you to check the land registry and find the location of the property owned by Brad Cartwright's mother. It's in the county, but I don't know where. I'll stay on the line while you search."
"You think that's where he's taken her?" There was shuffling on the line. "It would make sense. Look's like he's been planning this for months."
"Yeah it does." Austin started his engine and pulled forward. He then stopped and called out to one of the agents. "I need you to get word to Agent Stevens that they're in Claremont. I'm trying to get the location now, and as soon as I get it, I'll let him know."
He drove with lights and sirens to make better time. It wasn't until he'd hit the interstate that Slim got back on the line. "No listing in our county or any neighboring counties for the name, Cartwright."
"Are you sure?"
"I had them double check."
"Maybe it belonged to her family. Any idea what his grandmother's name was?"
"I haven't a clue," Slim said.
Austin thought of the passenger list and how Jo had made such a big deal over it, and the driver's license Slim had found with Brad's photo. "Try, James Edwin Ramsey, and call me back."
"Will do."
His adrenaline piqued, his heart pounded like a jackhammer in his chest. He looked at his watch and realized it'd been almost two hours since Jo was abducted. With a glance at the speedometer, he saw he was only doing seventy-five, so he floored it. His emergency lights and sirens cleared the path before him.
Austin's cell phone rang and he picked it up.
"You were right. There is a Ramsey, looks like he was a cousin to Cartwright."
"Forget the genealogy, just give me the address."
"1700 Monroe Road. It's only a few miles from where the last victim was found. I'm on my way out there now, Walt's manning the phones."
Austin immediately thought of Pendergrass and struggled with the decision to let Slim go in without backup. "Hang back, Slim," he finally ordered, counting on Jo's strength to survive. "I'm twenty minutes out. Don't go in on your own. Wait for me." Austin prayed those minutes wouldn't cost Jo her life.
*****
Jo continued to drift in and out of consciousness. She didn't know how long it'd been since Brad brought her into the house and laid her on the sofa. She could hear noises from somewhere within the house, but couldn't tell which floor they were coming from. The basement maybe, and recalled the experience she'd had in her motel room when she was developing her profile. There'd been a workbench and an old white tub. Her heartbeat quickened at the memory of it, and she tried to move. Her arms and legs refused, though. It was as if she was no longer a part of her own body, the effects of the drug rendering her helpless.
"Jo…it's Slim. Can you hear me?"
'Yes…yes, I can hear you,' but her vocal cords didn't seem to want to cooperate with her brain because she heard no sound coming from her mouth. She thought back to her experience with the first victim, the injuries she'd inflicted upon herself while in a subconscious state and wondered if it was possible to reverse the effect, to trick her mind into believing that she wasn't helpless.
She knew she had nothing to lose at this point so she cleared her mind of all thought and began to concentrate with every ounce of her e
nergy. She focused on her hand that lay across her stomach, willing it to move. It took several attempts before there was a slight movement of her right index finger. She tried again, this time, she was able to raise her hand slightly.
"Where is he, Jo?" Slim leaned over her. He then took her hands and pull her forward into a sitting position. "I'm getting you out of here."
Slim slipped his hands underneath her. A movement behind him caught Jo's attention. She stared in alarm as she saw Brad enter the room with her gun in his hand. Jo screamed to warn Slim, but no sound came out. Brad lifted the gun and pointed it at Slim. Gathering all her strength, Jo focused on the paralyzed muscles of her body and managed to push Slim away just as Brad pulled the trigger.
Jo watched in horror as Slim slumped to the floor.
Brad stuck the gun in his belt and came towards her. Jo eyes widened as he reached behind his back and pulled a white cord from his pocket. She tried to concentrate, to move away from him, but her limbs were like rubber.
His eyes were dark and cold as he leaned forward to wrap the cord around her neck. "I always admired you, Jo. You were my kindred spirit."
Terror like she'd never known rose in her as he tightened the cord around her neck, closing off the precious air that struggled to reach her lungs. She gagged. With every ounce of strength she had left, Jo raised her hands to claw at his arms. He was much stronger, though. His grip tightened. Her eyelids grew heavy. As she began to slowly slip away, she thought of all the victims before her and their will to live.
Please, God, give me the strength to fight him. Her eyes locked with his. 'You aren't going to get away with this, not this time.' Jo tried to struggle. 'You're a coward, Brad, you always have been. That's why you drugged us. You were afraid of us, just as you were afraid of your mother.'
"Let go, Jo. You know you're not happy. Your family won't have anything to do with you, and you have no life, except for your work."
'You're wrong Brad, I do have a life, and I'm not giving it up.'
