Stone Cold Heart

by Laura Griffin

  “How do you know?”

  “The oil wells, the black-and-white cows. This is what Sara wanted to show us. There are caves near here.”

  Up ahead on the road was a cloud of dust. A vehicle was speeding toward them.

  “There!” Nolan pointed. “Look, that’s her.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He tried to make out the shape of the driver behind the wheel.

  “Shit. No, it’s him.”

  Nolan’s gut clenched. Where was Sara? The Explorer sped closer.

  “Hang on.”

  He stomped on the brake and yanked the wheel right, blocking the road. There was a screech of tires and then a deafening crunch of metal as the Explorer slammed into the back of his truck.

  Nolan unlatched his seat belt and looked at Talia. “You okay?”

  She nodded dazedly.

  He shoved open the door, drawing his weapon as he jumped out. The Explorer’s airbag had deployed, and the driver’s-side door was open.

  A blur of movement at the back of his truck caught his eye.

  “Freeze! Police!” he boomed.

  “On the ground!” Talia yelled.

  Nolan heard scuffling on the other side of the Explorer. He darted around it as Gaines tried to make a dash for some trees.

  Nolan raised his weapon. Gaines tripped into a ditch. Nolan bolted after him, landing on top of him and jamming a knee into his back. He shoved his forearm against the back of the man’s neck and aimed his gun at his spine.

  “Hold him, I’ve got cuffs!” Talia yelled, leaping down into the ditch with a pair of handcuffs in hand.

  Nolan yanked Gaines’s arms behind his back, and Talia slapped the bracelets on.

  “Where is she?” Nolan demanded.

  He didn’t respond. Nolan jumped to his feet, leaving the prisoner facedown in the ditch. He nodded at Talia, a few feet away now. She had her Glock in a two-handed grip, aimed straight at Gaines’s back.

  “Keep a bead on him,” Nolan ordered.

  He leaped out of the ditch and ran back to the Explorer. He raced around it, checking the windows, and jerked open the cargo door. His heart felt like it dropped out of his chest when he saw a woman curled up in a ball.

  But it wasn’t Sara.

  • • •

  Grace peered around the tree where she’d been hiding. She struggled to her feet and took a few wobbly steps. Pain shot up her ankle, and she knew she’d injured it. She felt light-headed. Disoriented. She’d heard the car crash, then doors opening and closing. What was happening? She wanted to yell for help, but what if he came back and found her? She had to get out of here. She had to find help.

  Grace hobbled forward. Something sharp cut into her foot. Her shoulder throbbed, and her ankle was ablaze with pain. But she kept moving forward, one painful step at a time, trying to stay hidden behind the trees.

  Through the bushes, she saw a pile of honey-blond hair. Grace’s heart skittered. She stopped moving and stared through the branches. It was a person. A woman. She was covered with dirt and leaves, as though she’d rolled down a hill. Grace stepped back behind a bush, watching the lifeless body with a feeling of dread.

  Then the woman moved.

  • • •

  Nolan jogged along the road, searching the landscape for any sign of her. All he saw were scrub trees and bushes and those damn cows. Where was she? And where was the backup he and Talia had called?

  “Sara!” His voice was hoarse from shouting her name.

  Sweat streamed down his back, soaking through his shirt. He kept a steady pace along the road, searching the trees.

  A flash of movement. Nolan’s heart missed a beat as Sara emerged from the bushes.

  He broke into a run. She staggered toward him. Her shoulders were cut and bleeding, her eyes wide with shock. Nolan caught her around the waist.

  “Are you okay? Christ, you’re bleeding.”

  She slumped against him. Scratches covered her arms, and he realized she wasn’t wearing anything but a black sports bra and torn yoga pants.

  “Sit down. I got you.” He tried to lower her, but she pulled away.

  “We have to go. She’s here.”

  “What?”

  “She’s here. She has a twisted ankle, but she untied my hands, and I gave her my shirt and—”

  “Who’s here?”

  “Grace. Nolan, she’s alive.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Dust swirled like a tornado as Sara watched the helicopter from the back of the police car. She had the door open, her feet out, and she shielded her eyes from the grit as a pair of paramedics loaded Grace’s stretcher into the chopper. After Grace came a second stretcher with Elaine Hansen strapped to it. The woman had suffered a serious head injury at the hands of her grandson.

  Despite the powerful downdrafts, Sara couldn’t tear her eyes from the spectacle as the helicopter lifted into the air and then swooped east toward San Marcos.

  A shadow fell over her. “Ten more minutes, I promise.”

  She looked at Nolan. “There’s no rush.”

  But she knew it was futile to protest. He’d been insisting for the past half hour that she needed medical attention. He’d wanted her to go in the chopper. But Sara had balked, and they’d ended up in an argument in front of half the Springville Police Department.

  His phone buzzed, and he gave her a long look before stepping away to take the call.

  The moment his back was turned, Sara slumped against the vinyl seat. She ached everywhere. Even her teeth ached. And for the past five minutes, she’d been battling the urge to puke.

  “It sucks, I know,” Talia said, stepping over. “We went through it in training.” When Sara didn’t respond, she frowned. “He stun-gunned you, right? That’s what Nolan said.”

  Sara nodded.

  “Takes about a day to wear off.” Talia crouched beside her. “I haven’t had a chance to thank you.”

  “Why?”

  “We wouldn’t be here without your help.” She glanced up at the sky. “I doubt Grace would be alive.”

  Sara’s chest tightened at the thought of her. She’d been in terrible shape. Sara’s cursory examination had revealed a fractured clavicle and a sprained ankle. She had contusions on her arms and legs, suggesting sexual assault, and she showed signs of severe dehydration. All that was in addition to her emotional wounds, which were unfathomable.

  And yet she’d rescued Sara. She’d hobbled over to her and untied her bindings and helped her to her feet, before nearly collapsing herself from dehydration. Sara had thought she was dreaming when she saw Grace’s dirt-smudged face looming over her.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Talia asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  Talia stood up. “No need to be a hero, you know, Sara. Every last one of us is ready to kiss your feet. Nolan included, even though he’s being an ass.”

  Sara forced a smile. “Really, I’m okay.”

  “Hey!”

  Talia turned to look at Bryce Gaines, still seated cross-legged on the side of the road near Sara’s wrecked Explorer. His arms were cuffed awkwardly behind him, and he had to crane his neck to look at them.

  Talia glanced at Sara. “Excuse me.” She walked over and glared down at the captive.

  “You guys sat me in a fucking ant bed.”

  Talia put a sympathetic look on her face. She knelt down and said something, and Sara wished she could have heard it, because his face went slack. Talia stood up and sauntered off, leaving him sweltering in the dirt.

  An unmarked police car pulled up to the scene, and a man the size of a refrigerator got out. This would have to be Dax Harper from APD, the only task force member Sara hadn’t met yet. Talia strode over, and they were joined by Nolan. The three huddled together, and Sara leaned her head back against the seat as a new surge of nausea gripped her.

  CSIs buzzed around the scene, collecting evidence. Besides the newly discovered cave complex, the sprawling crime scene included
Sara’s SUV and Nolan’s truck. The front of the Explorer looked like an accordion, and Sara doubted she’d ever drive it again. Not that she wanted to. She watched with detachment as a photographer leaned into the cargo space and snapped a picture of the bloody carpet.

  Suddenly, Sara’s stomach churned, and her mouth filled with saliva. She clutched her middle and tried to breathe through it.

  Nolan glanced at her and did a double take. He walked over.

  “We’re about to head in.” He leaned his hand on the top of the police car and bent down. “You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me get the prisoner loaded, then I’ll be right back.”

  “Aren’t you taking him in?”

  “Talia’s taking him, and Dax will ride with them.”

  “It’s your arrest. Aren’t you going to question him?”

  “After I take you to the ER.”

  “But—”

  “He can wait. I’m taking you.”

  • • •

  By nightfall, the police station was a madhouse. People from everywhere congregated by the flagpole, including a rabid pack of reporters who shoved microphones in Talia’s face as she made her way inside. Joanne was at the reception desk, frantically fielding calls, and she didn’t even make eye contact as she buzzed Talia into the bull pen.

  Every badge in Allen County—and several from surrounding counties—seemed to have found an excuse to show up tonight. Talia spotted Dax’s head above the rest and threaded her way through the crowd. He nodded for her to follow him into the hall beside the restrooms, where they at least had room to talk.

  “How’d it go at the house?” he asked.

  “They’re just wrapping up.” Talia combed her hand through her stringy hair. The Hansen home was overrun with FBI agents, who had taken over for the local CSIs. “Should be finished within the hour.”

  “Anything new?”

  “No murder weapon yet,” she said. “But definitely some weird shit.”

  Dax arched his eyebrows.

  “There’s a closet off the main hallway. Has a dead bolt. The walls inside are all scratched up. Looks like someone used to lock a child in there.”

  “Gaines?”

  “And maybe his mom, too, when she was a kid? Who knows.”

  Talia shuddered, refusing to let herself picture Gaines as a child. She didn’t want to feel sorry for him. She didn’t want to feel anything for him.

  She nodded at the pair of closed doors—an interrogation room and an observation room beside it. “How’s it going here? Is that him in the box?”

  “No, they took him into County.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “They’ve got the grandmother in there, seeing what they can get out of her.”

  Frustration swelled inside her. Talia maneuvered her way through the cops milling in the hallway and let herself into the observation room. Nolan shot her a glare. He stood beside Rey Santos. The FBI agent wore his typical suit and tie, even though the stuffy room was about a hundred degrees.

  “Shut that door,” Nolan ordered.

  Dax eased the door shut behind him as he squeezed in beside Talia, and all four of them focused their attention on a monitor. Black-and-white footage from the camera next door showed Elaine Hansen seated across the table from the police chief. The woman had a thick white bandage wrapped around her head and a box of tissues in front of her. Just the sight of her made Talia’s blood boil.

  “What is this?” Talia asked. “I thought we wanted Gaines.”

  “He’s not talking,” Nolan said tightly.

  “Want me to take a crack at him? Maybe he’ll let his guard down with a woman?”

  Nolan shook his head. “He clammed up. Asked for a lawyer.”

  Talia looked at the screen again and tuned in to the conversation.

  “Something’s not right with that boy,” Elaine said tearfully. “I knew it the day he was born. I saw it in him. His mother dumped him on us when she was eighteen, went on about her wicked life.” She plucked a tissue from the box. “He’s been an albatross around my neck every day since.”

  Hank patted her hand. “You did the best you could, Elaine. God knows.”

  Talia looked at Nolan. “What the hell is this? We’re coddling her now?”

  “It’s called building rapport.”

  “It’s called bullshit,” Talia retorted. “That bitch abused him and made him into a monster. This guy killed seven women that we know of—probably more. Four of them while he was living with her. You think she didn’t know about it or at least have a clue? She’s covering her ass!”

  “She’s our best shot at getting Gaines to talk,” Nolan said.

  “So what if he talks?” Talia thought of Grace Murray with her cuts and bruises and her glassy eyes. Fury bubbled up. “We’ve got mountains of evidence against him. Why do we care if either of them talks? We should throw the book at them, let them rot in jail.”

  Nolan gave her a sharp look. “There could be more, Talia. And he’s the only one who can tell us where to find Kaylin.”

  The reality of his words smacked her. She looked at the screen again. Hank sat there calmly, nodding and listening, when he probably wanted to shake the woman until her teeth fell out. Kaylin Baird was his grandniece.

  “. . . twenty-five years,” she said tearfully. “All that time, he’s been my cross to bear. And now this.”

  Hank patted her hand again. “The Lord never gives us more than we can handle, Elaine.”

  The woman bowed her head and cried until her shoulders shook.

  “Here it comes,” Nolan muttered. “He’s going to flip her. Watch.”

  Hank leaned forward and looked her in the eye. “Bryce knows where Kaylin is. We both know it. Tell him to talk to us. He’ll listen to you.”

  “He won’t. He never has.”

  “Talk to him, Elaine. It’s time for Kaylin’s family to bring her home.”

  • • •

  Sara’s windows were dark.

  Nolan pulled up to the curb and studied the red-brick building with a clench in his chest. He thought he saw a slight glow on the kitchen side of the apartment, but maybe that was wishful thinking.

  He cut the engine. It was after one. Sara needed rest. After spending half the day in the ER, she’d spent four hours at the police station, giving a statement and filling out paperwork. She had to be beat.

  He got out and walked to the door, where he scrolled through the digital keypad until her name appeared. He called, and she picked up.

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  She buzzed him in.

  Nolan took the steps two at a time and found her standing in her doorway in that silky white robe he remembered from this morning. It felt like a lifetime ago. Her hair was disheveled, and he felt a stab of longing. He wanted to kiss her and wrap her in a bear hug, but he was afraid to touch her.

  “Sorry to wake you up,” he said.

  “You didn’t.” She let him inside. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  She led him into the living area, where a mug sat on the coffee table. The TV was tuned to the news, but the volume was muted.

  “Want something to drink?” she asked. “I can do better than tea.”

  “I’m good.”

  She sat down and looked at him. He sat, too. She leaned against him and slid her arms around his waist, and for the first time since Talia had told him about the phone call, Nolan felt like he could breathe again.

  He kissed the top of her head.

  “I tried to get away sooner,” he said. “I wanted so badly to be here earlier.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t want you to be alone tonight.”

  She looked up at him. “I’m alone every night. Alone is my default state.”

  Not anymore.

  But he didn’t want to push her. Not tonight, when her emotions were ragged. He just wanted to hold her. He breathed deeply, taking in the clean scent of her hair. Her arms tightened
around him, and he felt his chest loosen.

  “The last few days have been . . .” She trailed off.

  “Scary.”

  “Soul-sucking.” She tipped her head back, and he saw the shadows in her eyes. “The cruelty people are capable of—” She shook her head. “I feel so hopeless.”

  “Don’t.”

  He shifted her closer and stroked her shoulder. She felt warm against him. He wanted to stretch out with her, but it seemed like she wanted to talk.

  “I don’t know, Nolan.” She sighed. “I thought I was up for this work, but . . .”

  “Give yourself a break. You’ve had a shit day. Tomorrow will be better.”

  Another sigh.

  “Hey.” He gently tipped her chin up. “It’s not all bad. Not everything. People help each other. People go the extra mile for each other.”

  People love each other.

  She nestled her head against him. When her body finally relaxed, he felt a measure of relief. He stared at the muted news channel, not even watching it, really, as she lay against him, breathing softly. There was nowhere else in the universe he wanted to be right now.

  “Everything hurts,” she murmured.

  He wasn’t sure if she meant physically or emotionally or both.

  “Did the ER doc give you some painkillers?”

  “I took one earlier. And I keep thinking how Grace spent twelve days with that man without painkillers or clothes or even solid food.”

  Nolan pictured the dungeon-like cavern. He pictured the dried blood puddles and the empty packets of sports gel. Gaines had installed bolts in the stone and linked carabiners together to keep her chained to the rock. The place would have been Sara’s worst nightmare, and he was glad she hadn’t seen it. But she could imagine, especially after seeing Grace’s condition.

  “I’m so tired,” she said. “Don’t even want to crawl into bed.”

  He kissed her head. “Just sleep.”

  She lay there quietly with her head against his chest.

  “Nolan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you guys get it?”

  The confession, she meant.

  “Yeah,” he said. It was probably the last thing Hank would do as a cop. “We got it.”

  CHAPTER 29