by Alex Kava
One of the treasures he’d taken was from Paige Barnett’s car. She had a stack of mail on the passenger seat. And in that stack was a letter from her sister. In the letter, she gave Paige her new phone number. The envelope included Lydia Barnett’s home address. In Fort Lauderdale, Florida. He kept such things just in case he needed to change territories. And here he was. He’d just passed a road sign. Twenty-five more miles to Fort Lauderdale and less than an hour from his final destination.
Stucky pulled off Interstate 95 to get some lunch and fill the gas tank. He couldn’t resist the opportunity. He pulled out the letter and dialed.
“Hello?”
“Is this Lydia Barnett?”
“Yes?”
“This is Deputy Steele with the Warren County sheriff’s department in Virginia.”
“Oh my God! Do you have information about Paige?”
“I’m down in Florida following up on a lead.”
“In Florida?”
“Yes, in the Miami area. There’s someone who may know what happened to your sister. I’m wondering if you might be available to meet me and check this out.”
“Of course. Anything. Oh my God! I can’t believe we might finally know something.”
He gave her the address and ended the call.
Stucky shook his head.
Much too easy.
Then he glanced up in the rearview mirror. Carly’s eyes were staring up at him. Somehow she had rolled onto her side.
Time for another injection.
83
Late Thursday afternoon
Miami, Florida
Maggie had made several stops during the long drive. Mostly to refuel and stretch her legs. Once to stock up on items she thought she’d need including a cooler with ice to keep her Diet Pepsis and water bottles cold. Virginia weather had been cooler and wetter than normal but the Florida sun was unrelenting. Each time she stepped out of the car she could feel the heat hit her in the face, steaming up her sunglasses and rising up from the asphalt as if in waves.
Though she wasn’t hungry, she ate, making sure she had plenty of protein. The weight of her exhaustion was lifted only by the constant flow of adrenaline. She wouldn’t allow herself to sleep even if she thought she could. Right now being sleep deprived would play to her advantage. Or so she hoped.
By the time she arrived, she knew what she had to do.
On a map the address looked like an ordinary warehouse district. Now Maggie tried to examine the area from a highway overpass. She had already driven by three times. Although the buildings looked dilapidated and abandoned she felt slightly relieved that he wasn’t leading her to a trailhead into another forest.
One thing that did bother her was the total absence of life. Loading docks were empty. There were no vehicles, no people. Roads in between the buildings were cracked and crumbling. Palm trees sprouted out of small patches of grass. Electrical lines dangled from pole to pole. A chain link fence surrounded the property with a security gate that was now broken off its tracks and shoved aside. There was nothing left inside the warehouses to secure and protect.
A railroad track ran along the backside of the property. Across the street was another abandoned building.
During her second pass she saw a bright white paneled van in front of the largest warehouse. On the third pass, a black SUV had pulled up beside it. Maggie wanted to drive by again, but there wasn’t enough traffic for her to risk it. She found a parking lot on the other side of the highway.
According to Susan Fuller—the only woman to survive—Stucky used an injection that paralyzed his victims almost instantly. Maggie and Ganza had speculated that the drug he used was Ketamine or something similar.
Ketamine had hallucinogenic, tranquilizing and dissociative effects. It was used to induce relaxation and a loss of consciousness when used as an anesthesia. As Ganza had pointed out, the drug had also gained popularity as an illicit party drug. It produced an abrupt high, a sort of euphoria, along with feelings of floating and other out of body experiences. Hallucinations, similar to LSD, were common.
Maggie had learned that higher doses of Ketamine could result in more extreme and dangerous effects known as K-holing. That’s when users became unable to move, a sense of being paralyzed. Communication was difficult if not impossible. The intense feeling of being separated from your body and no longer in control, was no longer euphoric but rather, became terrifying.
Maggie believed that Stucky was injecting his victims with high doses of Ketamine. If she were going to walk into his trap and hope to survive, she’d need to be prepared for that injection.
Before she left Richmond she had looked up everything she could find about the drug, including what could interrupt its effectiveness. Being sleep deprived and drinking too much caffeine were mentioned. Also listed were benzodiazepines such as Diazepam or Valium. She still had the bottle of Valium she had taken from her mother’s hiding place.
Maggie still wasn’t sure she could bring herself to take the pills, though she knew they might be her best protection against the full effect of Ketamine. She feared the Valium would lessen her reaction time, and she knew she’d have only one opportunity for one kill shot.
The idea of being disarmed and not in control of the situation was unsettling. The idea of not being in control of her own body simply terrified her.
She needed to tap into the anger she had felt after Cunningham had been shot. So she filled her memory with the sight and smells of that mass grave. Stucky had used those women as prey. Then he’d taken his trophies and shoved the rest of them down a ravine, discarding their bodies like they were containers he no longer had any use for.
He was going to do the same with Carly. Unless Maggie could stop him.
84
The white van and the black SUV were nowhere in sight when Maggie walked up the railroad tracks behind the warehouse. There were no windows back here. The only ones she had seen were in the front, their glass broken out, leaving gaping holes alongside the huge garage door.
She found a break in the chain link fence and crawled through. Sweat already drenched her body. She had removed her holster and left it in the car. She didn’t want anything that might encumber her. She tucked her weapon into the waistband of her jeans and pulled the hem of her T-shirt over it.
Deep breathes, she told herself.
She felt calm despite the surge of adrenaline. She was going to stop the bastard. That’s what she needed to concentrate on. One opportunity. One chance. Aim for center mass.
Other than the huge garage door at the front, Maggie had counted three entrances. The one that faced the railroad tracks was up on the loading dock. She’d almost missed it because of the stacks of old crates in front of it. As she climbed the concrete steps to the platform she saw that the door was hanging from one hinge. The bottom of the door was jammed against the floor and tilted halfway open. No one had used it for a very long time.
Maggie stopped and listened. Traffic on the overpass was a distant hum. A couple of seagulls flew overhead. She inched her way closer to the door, and now she saw that she could squeeze through it, hopefully without much noise. She pulled out her Smith & Wesson pleased that there was no tremble in her fingers. She squatted low to where the door opening was widest, took another deep breath and went in.
Dust mites streamed from a hole in the roof. There were aisles and aisles of stacked crates that made it impossible to see what was on the other side. But Maggie also realized she could sneak in without being noticed.
With the van and SUV gone, she wondered if Stucky hadn’t expected her to arrive so quickly. Was it possible he had left Carly here while he went off to get something? Could she be that lucky?
Maggie tried to listen over the thumping of her heartbeat. She took small steps, careful not to make a sound. Then suddenly she stopped and flattened hersel
f against the crates behind her.
She could hear something. A moan. Like a wounded animal. Low and quiet and staggered. She had to wait for it. Seconds lapsed before she heard it again. And now it sounded like it was coming from the front of the building.
She increased her pace and gripped her weapon, holding it ready to take aim and fire. The closer she crept the more she became convinced that someone was injured. But she couldn’t see a thing. At the end of each aisle was yet another. She paused and tried to look between the crates.
Nothing.
She finally came to the end of an aisle but stayed put. Off to her left she saw the black SUV. The passenger door was flung open but she couldn’t see inside the vehicle from this angle. The door’s window looked like it had been splattered.
Maggie inched closer to the end of the aisle. She still hadn’t located the sound though she was definitely closer. She kept her eye on the opened door of the vehicle, anticipating movement from inside. She was so focused on what was in front of her that she didn’t realize her mistake. There was movement, but it wasn’t from the interior of the vehicle. It was in the side mirror.
Just as Maggie started to turn around, she felt the needle plunge into her arm.
85
“I want you to watch how I do it.”
The voice sounded like it was coming from a different room. Maggie wasn’t sure how she ended up on the floor or how much time had passed. The SUV was in front of her and now she could see inside. There were twisted limbs—arms and legs overlapping. Blood dripped down the seat. Tossed to the side was a baseball bat with more blood.
A young blond girl sat propped against the vehicle, Her eyes were wide and looking at Maggie as though something she was seeing was terrifying to her.
If only Maggie could focus on what that was.
And then almost as if she were floating along the ceiling, she saw him. A tall, lean figure with dark hair and dark eyes kneeling over a body with a shiny scalpel. He was slicing slowly, delicately into the skin, beads of blood popping up in the wake of the blade.
And he was talking. It was his voice that she heard, and it still sounded so far away.
“You people always want to know why I do it,” the man was saying. “I’d say enjoying it is a good enough reason.”
He lifted his head and she could see his eyes, so dark and empty, but he was smiling.
“What do you think about that? I do it because I enjoy it.”
He didn’t seem to need her answer. In fact, he looked pleased just to have her watch. Although it was difficult to see clearly while she floated above him.
“I don’t like the rages,” he gestured toward the open car door. “It’s a waste of energy. But she shouldn’t have brought someone with her. I hate when they’re unpredictable like that.”
He wiped the blade as he tilted his head and stared at her.
“It takes a great deal of precision. That’s why I want you to watch. I’ve never removed a heart before.” And he pointed at the blond-haired girl who had now slipped farther down. As if on cue there was a tiny moan that came from her mouth, though her lips weren’t moving.
He bent over the torso and began cutting again.
This time Maggie felt a sting.
Her vision started to shift. She was seeing things from a different perspective. Suddenly, she was back on the floor instead of up above. Though her vision was still foggy. But now she could see that the torso he was slicing into was hers.
She didn’t feel panic. Instead, there was a strange calmness. Her heart didn’t race. Her breathing was steady.
She remembered the needle. The drug. It was supposed to paralyze her, make her feel numb, cause the floating sensation. She had no idea how much time had gone by. Were the effects wearing off or had the Valium helped counter them?
No more floating, but she could definitely feel the scalpel’s sharp blade. He cut only enough to make her bleed. It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t so bad. Maybe she was still a bit paralyzed and not feeling the full effect. Was that possible?
Her hands were placed up under her chin. She saw them, and she could feel that her wrists were bound together. His head was bent over her, so he didn’t see her testing her fingers. She could move them. Her legs were stretched out in front of her. Inside her shoes, she tested her toes. Yes, she could curl them easily. But now it was becoming difficult to not flinch from the pain of the blade.
Don’t cringe, she told herself. He can’t know. Play along. The Valium was working. The Ketamine was not.
When he looked up at her, she simply stared, not moving anything. She didn’t dare to blink or speak.
“That’s just a start,” he told her. “I can gut you later.”
He said it as casually as a butcher who’d finished slicing a cut of meat.
“I need to prepare and get everything ready. This should be a treat. I’ve never removed a heart before.”
He stood up and looked down at her. This time he was studying her. Could he tell that she was coming around? Maggie stared straight ahead. She didn’t move. How long did he expect the drug to work? She couldn’t afford for to have him inject her again. She’d never be able to ward off the effects if she had another dose shot into her system.
But then Stucky turned around and disappeared behind the back of the black SUV.
Maggie listened.
He hadn’t gone far. He was close. Somewhere on the other side of the SUV. She heard clicks and clacks like he was opening and closing metal drawers. He was preparing. He was getting the necessary tools to extract a heart.
Maggie flexed her knees, pleased to have control of them. Her mind, her vision was still playing catch-up. She scanned the concrete floor for her Smith & Wesson. Of course, he wouldn’t leave it out even if he thought she was drugged.
Maggie strained to see where Stucky had gone. Just how close was he? At the same time she tested her hands. The cord he’d used to tie her wrists wasn’t tight. He’d gotten sloppy, taking the drug for granted. He hadn’t bothered to tie her feet together. She already started twisting her wrists back and forth.
She rolled over onto her side and pain burned across her abdomen. The girl’s terrified eyes followed her, but now she didn’t make a sound. Nor did she move. Maggie plastered her face against the dusty floor so she could look under the SUV. She saw Stucky from his ankles down. He was standing by a cart with rollers.
Click and clack. Open and close.
He was gathering tools, preparing and equipping himself. So sure, so confident, so arrogant, that he didn’t hear Maggie stagger to her feet. Suddenly dizzy, she thought for sure she’d fall back down. He’d definitely hear that. It was more difficult than she thought it would be to make her legs work.
The Valium was wearing off, too, and now she could feel her pulse ticking up. The calm was being replaced by adrenaline. But there was still such a fog clouding her vision. And she could hear him slam the drawers like he was finished. Like he finally had everything he needed.
The girl’s eyes were still following her. She’d give Maggie away no matter where she hid. Maggie shoved the last of the cord away from her wrists and let it drop.
Seconds. That’s all she had.
And then she realized she wasn’t hearing any more clicks or clacks.
86
Stucky came back around the vehicle. His hands were filled with various tools. From her hiding spot, Maggie could see only a sliver of him in the side mirror. She couldn’t see Carly, but silently she implored the girl, please don’t give me away.
In the mirror, Maggie watched Stucky. Before he even looked toward the girl he noticed that Maggie was gone.
“What the hell?”
She rushed up behind him just as he started to turn. The first swing of the bat caught his shoulder.
Not a good hit.
But it knocked him off balance and took him by surprise. The tools in his arms clattered to the concrete floor.
“Damn it, you bitch!”
He started to bend over to pick something up. Maggie tightened her grip and swung again. This one hit him in the side of the head.
He wiped at the blood and when his eyes looked up her, there was rage.
He tried to block the next hit with his arm. But there was a sickening crack, and it wasn’t the bat. It was bone.
The shriek sounded like a wild animal. An angry, wild animal. When he came at her, she didn’t hesitate. She pulled back and swung again.
Somebody had to stop him.
That’s what she told herself every time he got back up and came at her. Each time his growls sounded more and more fierce as he continued to lunge at her. Maggie kept swinging the bat again…and again.
When he finally didn’t get back up, she stopped.
She wasn’t sure how many times she had hit him. Nor was she sure how much of the blood on her T-shirt and jeans was hers and how much was his.
Later, as she helped a paramedic load Carly into the back of the ambulance, Maggie could barely remember tying Stucky up. Carly had helped her. She did remember that. The girl moved slowly but with purpose.
The cops who had responded to her 911 call believed she was just another of his victims. They hadn’t asked any questions…yet. And she hadn’t offered any information…yet.
But she heard them talking to each other and into their radios, about how the guy had been hogtied after getting the crap beat out of him.
“Looks like he got what he deserved.”
“We’ve got two waiting for ambulances.”
