She read it in silence, Mark walking behind her to lean over her shoulder.
Ring around the rosy
Pocket full of posies
Ashes, ashes they all fall down.
I knew you would come back. Tonight we celebrate.
Lindsey pressed her palms on the desk, trying to hide the way they shook. Mark squeezed her shoulder in silent support.
Steve reached for the piece of paper as if he was afraid Lindsey would read it again. “His fixation on you is confirmed.”
Lindsey’s hand closed down on the paper. “No. Do you understand what he is saying . . .” She looked around the room. “Tonight we celebrate. He plans to kill another woman.”
“Tonight,” Mark said.
“But not you,” Garth said quietly.
Lindsey focused on Garth. “How do you know?”
“Instincts,” he said. “You’re not the only one who follows them. It’s not you. He’s toying with you.”
Steve looked at Lindsey. “The words ‘ashes to ashes’ and the choice of the posy are both symbolic of death.”
“What are the chances he will harm Lindsey?” Mark asked.
Garth responded again, “I don’t think she’s in immediate danger. Right now he appears to be enjoying the game.”
“But,” Steve interjected, “we can’t take chances.” He jabbed a finger at the note. “He could be talking about Lindsey.”
“Either way,” Lindsey said, “he plans to kill again tonight.”
“Any evidence found at the apartment?” Mark asked.
Steve looked at Mark. “Nothing helpful, I’m afraid.”
Lindsey’s mind was racing. “He’ll go to the Pink Panther to choose his victim. I’m sure of it.”
“It fits,” Steve said. “The question is, will he expect us to be there?”
Steve looked from Mark to Lindsey. “Will he, Lindsey?”
Lindsey thought a minute. “If he’s been watching me, which we have to assume he has, then yes. He knows I have been there and that I know it’s his place.” She paused. “He knows I know.”
Mark shook his head. “It’s going to be impossible to catch the guy. He probably picked the victim weeks ago. I can’t believe he will grab her at the Pink Panther.”
Steve replied, “He might. These guys get bolder and bolder.”
Lindsey tapped her fingers on the desk. “We need to throw him a curve ball.”
The room fell silent while everyone fell seemed to consider her words. “Me,” Lindsey said, unable to think of anything else. “I’m the curve ball. The last thing he will expect is for me to come walking into the Pink Panther. His attention will turn.”
“Oh, no, forget it!” Mark declared, his face etched with tension. “You are not going to be the lure for some psychotic killer.”
Lindsey bit back the nasty retort that formed on her lips. He was just worried. “Mark,” she said. “We’re talking about stopping this guy once and for all. I’m trained to deal with this kind of thing. That other woman he plans to kill isn’t.”
Garth’s eyes were alert but he kept quiet. Steve exchanged a glance with him and then gave Mark a level stare. “Look, I know how worried you are, but Lindsey is a trained professional.”
Mark started to protest, but Steve held his hands up stop-sign fashion. “Wait,” he said. “Hear me out.” Mark exhaled, his eyes hot with anger. Steve continued, “Lindsey is more to me than a job. She’s a friend. I don’t like this one bit, but it makes sense. We need to save lives.”
Mark practically yelled his response. “She’s a damn target for a serial killer.” He walked to the window, giving them all his back. As if he needed distance to calm himself.
Lindsey and Steve stared at one another. “Why don’t I go back to my office and give you two time to talk.” Steve pushed to his feet, followed by Garth. “Call me when you make a decision, but we don’t have much time.”
Lindsey nodded. “We’ll call you soon.”
The two men left without another word, pulling the door shut behind them. Mark kept his back to the room. Lindsey approached him and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head on his back. “Thanks for worrying about me.”
Mark turned to face her, his hands on her waist. “Please don’t do this.”
She cupped his face with her palm and he rubbed his jaw against her hand. “Mark—”
“You’re going to, aren’t you,” he said, taking her hand in his.
She gave him an understanding look. “I have to. Other people could die if I don’t.”
“There has to be another way.”
She tried to make him feel better. “I’m a trained professional, and if it will make you feel better, I will tell them if you aren’t in the observation van I won’t do it.”
He nodded. “I definitely want to be with you.”
Lindsey gave him an understanding smile. “We better go to Steve’s office.”
Mark cursed. “I have to be in court in an hour. It won’t take long, but nevertheless, I have to go.” He paused. “I don’t like the idea of you going anywhere alone right now.”
“Mark—”
He raised a staying hand. “I know,” he said. “You can protect yourself. You’re a trained professional.”
“I’ll meet you at Steve’s. Call me when you get out of court.”
* * * * *
As soon as Mark was gone, Lindsey grabbed her purse and headed out the door.
She needed to go by her apartment and grab a few things. It had been days since she had restocked. She needed clothes desperately. Digging her cell out of her purse, she dialed Steve’s desk, figuring he was already back in his office. “Bryant here.”
“Oh, Garth, hey. Is Steve around?”
“I’m not sure where he went. He was just here.”
“Oh,” she said. “Then will you tell him I am stopping by my apartment and then I’ll be there. Mark is in court, so he may or may not join us.”
“Not a problem. I’ll pass things along. Be careful out there on your own.”
Lindsey grunted. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m a trained professional, remember?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I know. We all know, but this guy is good at what he does too,” he reminded her. “Just keep that in mind.”
Seconds later she ended the call and the coddling which seemed to be coming at her from all directions. Deciding against a cab, she took off walking. It would clear her head and give her time to think. Mulling over the investigation made the walk go by quickly. Before she knew it, she was hitting the elevator button to her floor. A few minutes later she entered her apartment, tossed her purse on the entrance table, and headed to the refrigerator. No way was she going to think about him being here. She refused to be intimidated. A cool drink was in order after her brisk walk. Grabbing a bottle of water, she tipped her head back, letting the cool liquid soothe her throat and body.
Stepping into her bedroom, she began pulling items out of her drawer, her eyes avoiding the bed. Suddenly, this didn’t seem like such a great idea. She wanted to get out of there and fast. She started to turn, eager to grab a suitcase and go.
All the sudden she was off balance, pulled backwards as a large hand closed over her mouth. This was it, here and now; she was the next chosen victim. The note had been about her. Panic seized her, as she felt something slip over her head, covering her face, a sweater cap perhaps. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t. Willing herself to calm, to remember her training, she forced herself to take even breaths but the cloth over her face took all the air. The hot breath of her attacker was on her face, his mouth so near, his hands on her body.
Her skin crawled with his touch, her stomach twisting. He hadn’t spoken . . . she wanted to hear his voice, to know if she knew this person. He tugged her against his body with such force, she grunted from the impact. A second later, she felt her back hit the mattress.
No! She squirmed, not wanting to be trapped, kicking and punching. B
ut then he was on her, one of his long legs wrapped around her left leg, his hands holding her hands over her head. Before he could trap her second leg, she brought her knee up and rammed it into his groin. He gasped, and for a split second he let her hands go, and that was all the time she needed. She reached for the nightstand, grabbing the phone and smashing it into his head. He hollered out and she rolled off the bed, frantically yanking the cap off her head.
Her only thought was to get to her gun, no looking back, no worry about his identity. She needed her gun. She made it to the bedroom door before her feet came out from under her. His grip on her ankle so tight it made her cry out. But then she hit the floor, palms flat, her body feeling the jolt from head to toe. Twisting around, she intended to kick him in the face, but she momentarily froze.
It was Garth.
He laughed, clearly enjoying her shock, his hand inching up her leg. The pure evil in his eyes brought her back to reality. She kicked him in the face as hard as she could, high heels and all. “Bitch,” he yelled, blood gushing from his forehead. He reached for her free foot, trying to get it before she kicked him again.
She reached for a corner lamp and pulled it on top of him, kicking at the same time. His hand slipped off her leg, and she scrambled forward in a crawl. But he was fast. He shoved the lamp aside, and grabbed hold of her shoulders. “I like it when you fight, Lindsey.” She felt his body press into hers, his hips against her backside. She wanted to throw up. “We’re going to have fun, you and I.”
She shook her head, fighting her emotions, her fear. “Why? Why are you doing this?” she whispered through trembling lips.
“Because I want you,” he said in a taunt, his lips by her ear. “And I am going to have you. I’ve waited forever for you. I even tried to replace you, but those other woman just weren’t good enough.” He licked the side of her face. She was trembling, and she tried to stop. Something told her he got off on her fear.
“You’re sick,” she whispered.
“No, I’m smart. I kept you guessing. Admit it.” His words were filled with pride so sickening Lindsey felt her head spinning. “You connected the murders, but never to me.”
She wanted to know the truth.. “Vegas? How did you manage those killings when you were here?”
He smiled. “Ah, but I wasn’t. I took a leave of absence to care for my poor, sick grandma in Texas.”
Lindsey shut her eyes tightly. “And Hudson, you planted the DNA evidence.”
“Yep, nice inside track I have, don’t you think?”
Her palms pressed into the floor. She had to get away. “You’ll never get away with this.”
“I have so far.” He moved, rising to his feet, and she thanked the good lord to have him off her. He yanked her to her feet and pushed her back against the wall, hands over her head.
“I hope you burn in hell,” she spat as she struggled against his legs, trying to keep hers free.
He laughed. “You wound me, Lindsey. I think you should kiss me and make me feel better.”
No matter how hard she tried to fight the panic that was welling up inside, or the nausea at the thought of his lips on hers, she couldn’t. She twisted her head to the side and he moved his hand into her hair and yanked her head backwards. “Uh-uh, I want my kiss.”
Tears welled in her eyes as his mouth came towards her. She wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. Why hadn’t she listened to Mark when he warned her about going out alone? And then his mouth was on hers, and her fighting instincts kicked in. The instant his tongue passed her teeth, she bit down as hard as she could.
“Ah!” he yelled, pulling back in shock as his hand went to his mouth. He backhanded her. “I’m bleeding, you bitch.”
Taking advantage of one free hand, Lindsey hit him in the face and twisted to try and get away. He pulled her by the hair and then slapped her again. This time harder. “Stop fighting and make this easy on yourself.”
Dragging her by her hair, he yanked her back to the bed. Lindsey cried out, feeling as if her hair was coming out by the roots. She kicked him, and he hit her again. Pain lashed through her cheek and eye, making her shake from head to foot. Or maybe it was from a combination of fear and adrenaline. Darkness threatened to take over as spots appeared in front of her eyes.
In her head, she yelled. No!
She wasn’t ready to die.
* * * * *
Standing in front of the courthouse, sticky with perspiration, Mark dialed Lindsey’s cell phone, trying to remain calm.
This was his third attempt with no answer. Pacing the sidewalk he felt tense, agitated, afraid. Where was she? Something was wrong, really wrong. He felt it in every inch of his body. Maggie had confirmed Lindsey had gone to Steve’s but Steve hadn’t seen her.
He dialed Steve again. “She’s not answering her phone, home or cell. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Steve cursed into the phone. “I’m going to head to her apartment since it’s only a few blocks from where I’m at. But then—”
“Just go, and I’ll meet you there. Just be careful. I’ll be about ten minutes behind you.”
Mark hung up and started to run down the street, feeling his pulse pounding in his temple. Wherever Lindsey was, she needed him, he could feel it. It felt like forever, though it was only minutes, before he arrived at her apartment. He took the stairs two at a time, not bothering with the elevator.
Standing in front of her door, he raised his hand to knock, but then dropped it. Instead, he tested the doorknob. When it turned, he knew it wasn’t good. He fought the urge to run through the door, and yell Lindsey’s name. Pushing the door open, he tried to see what he could hear.
Then Lindsey screamed.
Mark took off running, headed towards her voice, desperate to get to her. Red-hot rage exploded inside when he saw the man on top of her. Lunging forward, he reached for the man’s shirt, yanking him off of her body. “You son of a bitch!” he screamed as he flung him to the ground.
Mark’s breathing was erratic as he took in Lindsey’s bruised face, pain wrenching at his heart.
A low growl from the attacker drew his attention. Realization hit with a bitter sting. “Garth?”
The other man let out a burst of harsh laughter, pushing to his feet and lunging at Mark all in one move. His arms wrapped around Mark’s waist, as he sent him stumbling backwards. Mark managed to get his arms under the other man’s, and pry him off. Garth countered by throwing a punch, but Mark managed to block it.
* * * * *
Pure adrenaline powered Lindsey now. Her mind went back to her options. Gun. In purse by door. Had to get to her gun. She kept repeating her objective in her head, afraid the fog would take over. Stumbling, fighting dizziness, she managed to make it through the room and into the hall. She stumbled, falling to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks. Crawling the rest of the way, she found her purse and dumped it.
The front door burst open, and then Steve was there, squatting down beside her. “Oh, God,” he said. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, swallowing a sob as she grabbed his arm. “Help Mark. It’s Garth, Steve. It’s Garth.”
Steve frowned, but he acted without haste as his training dictated, pulling his gun and rounding the corner with stealth-like speed. Steve holstered his gun as he took in the two men going hand to hand. He might shoot Mark. He had no option but to do this the physical way.
He moved forward, yanking Garth from behind just as Mark jabbed him with a right hook to the face. Garth toppled over on Steve, knocking him to the ground. In a split second, Garth flipped around and yanked Steve’s gun from his holster.
Pointing the gun at Steve, he laughed, “Too slow,” he spat. “Get up.” Cutting a sideways glance at Mark, he added, “One wrong move and he’s dead.”
“Drop the gun, Garth,” Lindsey said from the doorway, her gun pointed at him.
She felt Mark’s eyes. “Lindsey—”
“I’m fine Mark.” But she wasn�
��t and she knew it.
Garth sneered at her. “No you’re not, darling. You’re bleeding. Why don’t you just hand over that gun and sit your pretty little ass down. Poppa will be right over to kiss it all better.”
Mark took a step towards Garth. “You son of—”
“Call off your dog, Lindsey,” Garth warned. “Or Steve’s a dead man.” He jabbed the gun to Steve’s temple.
Mark stopped dead in his tracks. “Garth,” Lindsey said stepping forward. “This little game is over. Drop the weapon.”
“Or what, darling?”
“I’ll shoot you.”
“I doubt that.”
“If you think for a minute I will hesitate, you’re dead wrong.”
He laughed again, the sound making Lindsey shiver. “Let’s find out. How about a little game of chicken?” He shoved Steve. “Get over there beside Mark.”
Lindsey kept her gun aimed at Garth. “I bet I can shoot one of them before you can manage to put me down.” He smiled. “You choose which one will live and which one will die.”
Garth waved the gun between Steve and Mark. Lindsey kept her gun aimed at Garth. She didn’t doubt he would shoot one of them. Maybe both. He was crazy. She should shoot him before he could shoot them. But . . . . she was foggy. It was hard to think. Should she?
“Game’s up, Lindsey,” Steve said quietly.
Lindsey heard his words, and absorbed their meaning. He was telling her what to do. She pulled the trigger, no hesitation. A second later, Garth crumpled to the floor.
Lindsey had shot him.
Steve’s words washed over Mark. He had reminded her of her training, of her only option. She had to shoot first. And Steve knew she wouldn’t wilt under pressure.
Mark’s eyes darted from Garth to Lindsey as he watched her lean against the wall and then slip down to the floor. Mark ran to her side, pulling her into his arms. The courage she had shown amazed him, but most of all it made him proud. She was amazing, such a combination of vulnerability and strength. She was the woman he loved and he was thankful she was alive. Losing her would have been a nightmare. Stroking her hair, he rocked her, whispering comforting words.
Tall, Dark and Deadly Books 0.5 - 3 Page 59
