MAD AS BELL

by Jeremy Waldron

  Thirsty’s head pounded.

  Perhaps the reason he liked Eva was because she was a younger version of his wife. Not in appearance, but everything else. As difficult as it was for him to admit, he knew it was true. He liked the Barbies and high-maintenance women who smelled nice and thought the world owed them everything.

  “If you can’t beat them, join ‘em.” Thirsty chuckled into his bottle.

  Twisting the cap closed, he hid it away in the glove box and stepped out of the truck. Pulling his sunglasses over his eyes, the world went dark. He stumbled his way up the sidewalk and stopped to peer into the window he believed to be Eva’s.

  “Are you home, sweetie?” Thirsty grinned. “Daddy’s here to save you.”

  The entrance to the building was locked. He cursed and yanked on the door harder when his cell buzzed in his back pocket. Stepping to the side, he raised his glasses off the bridge of his nose and read the text.

  Where are you? I have a mess on my hands. Call me.

  “Fucking Carr,” Thirsty grumbled as he sauntered back to his truck.

  Rich man Oliver Carr was part of the problem, too, Thirsty thought as he reached for the door handle. But before climbing in his truck, Thirsty turned his head and caught sight of a woman about Eva’s height walking briskly with her head down.

  Pulling his shades down on the bridge of his nose, Thirsty squinted and took a closer look.

  The woman’s dark hair bounced with each flare of her hip.

  It was Eva.

  The one that got away.

  Releasing the handle, Thirsty turned, tucked his chin, and jogged after Eva, who never saw him coming.

  Chapter Ninety-Two

  I had the gas pedal floored as I yanked on the steering wheel and propelled my car forward through congested traffic. I kept glancing at the clock, knowing I wasn’t going fast enough.

  “Don’t you think she knows?” Erin screamed at Archie from the front seat.

  I couldn’t afford to take my eyes off the road. Not for one second. But I could feel Archie clenching on to the backs of both our seats. He leaned forward from the backseat, his head nearly level with ours.

  They were still arguing about where to go without consulting with me, the driver. I knew there were only two places Eva could go—her apartment or Oliver Carr’s house. Since the police had Carr covered, I raced to her apartment complex as fast as I could.

  The car shifted gears and the RPMs relaxed. But only for a bit.

  Eva’s apartment complex seemed worlds away at the pace we were moving. Traffic was getting the best of us, but what worried me most was not knowing what Eva would do once she got there. Would she stay? For how long? Where would she go next?

  “Take this exit,” Archie said, his long arm extending over my dash as he pointed through the windshield.

  Erin twisted around and snarled. “Would you just let her drive?”

  I kept my wheels straight, choosing my own path. I knew the city better than he did, and I still had plenty of questions for him, questions we didn’t have time to ask back at the café where we left his car. I directed my comment to Archie, and said, “Instead of you two arguing about which route will get us there quicker, why don’t you tell us how you came to be in Colorado?”

  Archie told us how he didn’t plan on telling this story. After his smashing hit true crime novel on the Prom Queen Killer, his publishers wanted more. Somewhere along the way, he caught wind of how Denver’s mayor was possibly downplaying the city’s crime statistics and decided to chase that story and see where it led him. Then Megan Hines disappeared and it opened up an opportunity he couldn’t refuse.

  “She was beautiful,” he said. “I knew the world would love her.”

  Erin and I listened without interrupting. As soon as he was finished detailing his journey to Colorado, I asked, “If you were after Megan, how did you discover Christopher Bowers took Eva?”

  There was a long lead up, and I wondered if Archie would get to telling us how he figured it out before we arrived to Eva’s. Instead of just getting to the facts, Archie profiled Bowers for us. I eased into my thoughts as he explained Bowers’s mental health issues, his work as a contractor, and how, after three years of marriage, Bowers learned he’d entered a life he wished he hadn’t.

  “His wife is controlling, believe me. I’ve seen it first hand and just watching them together makes me want a divorce.” Archie shook his head and continued, “Anyway, she pushed him to be someone he wasn’t. He escaped his life by working long hours, or at least that’s what he told his wife.”

  “So, if he wasn’t working, what was he doing?”

  “Pretending not to be the monster he was.” Archie raised both eyebrows and nodded. “The hospital has records of it, and so do the police. I’m not going to waste my breath explaining why I don’t have the official reports, but let’s just say Bowers has been after Eva since she got away.”

  “Why take the risk?” I asked, wondering why someone would pretend to save the very person they kidnapped.

  “The thrill of getting caught.” Archie smiled. “He likes to put himself in the middle of his own crimes. It’s why you saw him at 7-Eleven.”

  I shook my head. “It can’t be him. Jessica’s kidnapping was a hoax.”

  Archie gave me a look of disapproval. Then he said, “That can’t be true. It’s what he does. He drives around the city all night, hunting for vulnerable women. At night he’s a different person and has grand illusions of being someone he isn’t.”

  “Did you catch him in the act?” Erin asked.

  Archie never did.

  I was thinking of Bowers’s manic depression when I said, “You might be right about him wanting to get back what got away, but I think he’s a copycat to whoever murdered Megan and abducted Jenny.”

  “Copycat to who, though?” Erin asked.

  The Prom Queen Killer was my first thought, but then I said, “It wouldn’t be Carr, would it? I mean, he did lend Bowers his truck.”

  “Carr hired Bowers to remodel his basement. It’s probably where Bowers first met Eva,” Archie said as he dug around looking for something inside his bag. “A copycat makes sense.”

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “Emulating the real killer would excite him and he would certainly want a piece of the fame for himself.”

  “But who is the real killer?” Erin asked. “If his only goal is Eva, who has Jenny? Who killed Megan? And what about Jane Doe? Where does she fit in?”

  A thought struck and I asked, “That man you photographed talking to Jenny and Naomi at Burger King, who is he?”

  Archie retrieved the folder and opened it up on his lap. As he sifted through photos, I angled the mirror down and saw him flip through to the same photos he’d showed me before. “He’s a teacher. Name’s Scott Helton. No one to worry about. His record is clean. I’ve checked.”

  “Shit.” I punched the gas and the car lurched forward as the engine whined.

  Archie flew back into his seat and cursed as his papers spilled to the floor. “What the bloody hell is going on?”

  “Heidi might have been half-right,” I said to Erin. “Right theory about a teacher, wrong teacher.”

  Erin nodded. She pushed her fingers through her hair and said, as if reading my mind, “But we’ve got to get to Eva before Bowers gets to her first.”

  Chapter Ninety-Three

  Eva knew freedom was just on the other side of the building. She was so close, yet it felt so far. A funny feeling fluttered up her spine and spread across her shoulders that made her believe something wasn’t right. She swept her gaze up and looked around at the world in front of her. Then she turned up the block, heading in the opposite direction from her apartment.

  As she hurried up the sidewalk, she felt the rush of city traffic sweep the air behind her. The burden she carried weighed her down, but it didn’t stop her. She had to be smart enough to outmaneuver the men she knew were out to get her.

&nb
sp; Without slowing her pace, she glanced over her left shoulder, looking for the man whose name she couldn’t remember. She was now certain he was working with Carr, and the thought sent a paralyzing wave of paranoia down her back.

  Eva’s vision tunneled and she kept marching forward, following the white light with hopes of finding freedom behind her apartment building.

  Everything was beginning to make sense. She should have seen it coming, but couldn’t because she was too close to what was happening. But Carr’s jealously of Stark and his constant need to control every aspect of her life was the reason all of this happened to her. Eva was certain of it, and now she deeply regretted lying to Erin and Samantha about who she was actually going to see.

  She gulped back gallons of air, but it still felt like she was drowning. Her pulse was ticking hard in her neck below a clenched jaw, and she had a compulsive need to keep looking back, feeling as if she was being followed.

  Her cellphone dinged. Her neighbor was waiting at the back door as promised.

  Rounding the corner, she needed to hurry. Eva was scared for what might happen if she didn’t get to the door in time. The last thing she needed was him to catch her outside without a Plan B.

  As she approached the intersection, she lowered her head and swept her gaze toward where she last saw Carr’s truck parked. Behind a curtain of lashes, she lengthened her stride when suddenly she heard her name being called.

  “Eva!”

  Her heart fluttered inside her chest as she took off running. She knew it was him. He was back.

  “Stop. I want to talk to you!”

  Eva ran past the entrance to her apartment building, gripped the corner and propelled herself around the side when the sounds of sirens filled the summer air. She continued running without stopping. She wasn’t sure if the footsteps she was hearing were her own or his.

  Coming around the back, her friend was standing at the door. As soon as he saw her coming, he quickly unlocked and opened the door. Eva skidded inside and closed the door behind her. With her sweaty hands on the glass, her eyes darted back and forth as she looked for the man who was chasing her.

  “Eva, what in the world is going on?”

  Eva fought to catch her breath. She looked everywhere for him, but he wasn’t there, and now she looked like a fool in front of her friend. As soon as she stepped away from the window, the man wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

  He said, “It’s good to see you.”

  Chapter Ninety-Four

  As soon as we arrived to Eva’s apartment building, Archie said, “Bastard took my exact spot.”

  We rolled past what appeared to be Carr’s red truck parked not far from Eva’s front door. I was thankful my bet had paid off. I didn’t want to have to go chasing Eva down. At least we could assume Bowers was somewhere in the vicinity.

  But our job wasn’t finished yet. We needed to find Eva, get her to trust us again, and get her somewhere safe until we could figure out exactly what was going on.

  I parked a half block east from the truck and the three of us stepped out at the same time. Without speaking, I headed for the entrance. Erin and Archie followed close behind. As soon we got to the door, a woman exited the building and graciously let us inside.

  It was impeccable timing. I thanked her and acted like I belonged. The elevator was waiting for us and we took it to the seventh floor. The hallway was as quiet as I remembered it being the first time I was here. As I marched toward Eva’s door, I rehearsed what I was going to say to convince her to let us to come inside.

  I knocked gently before calling out to her. “Eva. It’s me. Samantha. Can you open up?”

  Erin was bouncing on her toes as Archie stared at the door handle.

  “Eva.” I knocked again. “Please, we need to talk.”

  When she didn’t answer, Erin tried calling her cell. As I listened to it ring in Erin’s ear, my thoughts turned back to the conversation we had in the car. We were here to save Eva from Bowers, but Helton appeared to be involved somehow, too. I wanted to know more about him. Was he the teacher Megan Hines wanted to report last spring? He seemed to have all the qualities of Archie’s serial rapist, and worse, he might have been one of the last people to have seen Jenny before she disappeared. I wondered if he was on King’s radar.

  I locked eyes with Erin. She shook her head.

  Where are you, Eva?

  “We need to spread out,” I said, trying the door, not surprised to find it locked.

  I worried about this manic depressant Archie described with multiple personalities that had already fooled Eva once and could probably do it again.

  “We know Bowers is somewhere nearby because his truck is parked out front,” I said, “and we can only assume Eva will try to come home at some point if she hasn’t already.”

  “I’ll walk around the block,” Archie said.

  “I’ll stay out front and keep calling,” Erin offered.

  I moved toward Eva’s neighbor’s door and stared at the brass knocker that had the word Ace engraved in the middle. I thought about knocking when the sounds of police sirens caught our attentions.

  Archie ran to the window at the end of the hall as the sirens grew louder. Erin and I met him there and we all saw an unmarked police cruiser and a squad car speed past below. Something was happening on the streets and my gut told me it had everything to do with Eva.

  Chapter Ninety-Five

  King drove with a white-knuckled grip. His sirens wailed above his head as the sea of traffic parted in front of him. So much was going through his head as Alvarez silently hung on in the seat next to him with radio receiver in hand.

  King flicked his gaze to the rearview mirror and thought about Detective Gray tailing him in the squad car as he listened to the cop radio chattering with the latest updates.

  He knew where Eva lived, had looked up her address before she requested to have him take her to Samantha’s when she was in the hospital. Now he wondered if Bowers was the reason Eva didn’t want to go home that night. Thinking back, she had to know Bowers wasn’t safe, so why didn’t she say something?

  Thirsty, thirsty, thirsty. It was all King could hear, rattling around inside his head.

  Reaching his hand into his jacket pocket, he tossed Alvarez his cellphone. “Call Samantha. Ask her if she’s with Eva.”

  Alvarez looked at the phone on his lap as if it was radioactive.

  “I need her to be with Samantha.” King flicked his gaze to his partner, willing him to make a move. “We all do.” Sam had told him early this morning that Eva left Erin’s, but she could have come back. Could have realized she was safer with someone than alone.

  “Sorry, partner. I don’t want to get involved.” Alvarez picked up the cellphone and slid it back into King’s pocket.

  King ground his teeth, hating the current animosity between the department and the local journalists. The city seemed to be unraveling at the hands of the mayor, though King felt personally responsible.

  The radio squawked to life as the voice announced, “Suspect under the influence. Refusing to cooperate.”

  The tires squealed against the pavement as King turned left and flew beneath a traffic light. As soon as his wheels straightened, he spotted the cherry red Ford pickup truck parked out front with the squad car behind. Planning to block it in from the front, suddenly the truck pulled out in front of the patrol car and sped away.

  “Here we go,” Alvarez said, calling in the chase.

  King propelled the cruiser forward and was on the truck’s tail in a matter of seconds. The driver made no intention of stopping and, when King saw his chance, he whipped the steering wheel hard left, hit the gas, and managed to get out in front of the truck, forcing it to the curb where it came to an abrupt stop.

  Gray’s squad car blocked it in at the back, and King and Alvarez got out with their guns drawn, calling for Bowers to show his hands.

  Chapter Ninety-Six

  E
va couldn’t decide if she wanted to stand or sit. Helton had welcomed her into his apartment and, though clean and orderly, Eva couldn’t relax.

  “Please, Eva, sit and unwind. You’re making me nervous,” Scott Helton said.

  Eva turned away from the window and glanced down her front. Her arms were tightly wound around her torso and a small tremor moved up her spine.

  “What’s gotten into you? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

  Eva dragged her feet across the floor and dropped like lead onto the couch, apologizing.

  “Honey, there is nothing to be sorry for.” Helton walked in from the kitchen and offered Eva a cold soda. She shook her head no, and he placed it on the coffee table in front of her in case she changed her mind. “Did he hurt you again?”

  Everything inside Eva’s body stopped as she looked up at Helton from beneath her brow. He knew everything. Helton had heard her arguments with Carr through the walls, seen what he had done to her dozens of times before, and had probably listened as she wept herself to sleep on those nights Carr abused her either physically or emotionally, sometimes both.

  “Sweetie, you don’t need to tell me what I already know.” Helton reached for her hand, but she pulled away and hid it under her arm.

  Eva turned her head and looked away, fighting back the sting of tears welling behind both her eyes. She hated herself for not recognizing the truck to be Carr’s the night she climbed inside and was whisked away to the hospital only to be further humiliated by having to do a rape test. But what was the driver’s name? Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone?

  “I’m worried about you,” Helton said. “I’ve seen the news.”

  “And you’re wondering when I’m going to learn my lesson?”