by Kelly Irvin
Parallel universes collided. Chase and Joanna had gone home to make mac ’n’ cheese and chicken nuggets for their five children. This teacher was worried about maintaining the mask he’d shown the world. The one he’d shown her with his interest in the Little Free Library, his big dog, and his offer to jog with her. All an elaborate ruse to set her at ease with her neighbor.
Such lengths to go to. “You know nothing you do will change my father’s resolve. He’ll bury you where your body will never be found.”
“I look forward to the denouncement.” Cole swished a salute with his gun hand. “Dear Maximilian, let’s have you in the back.”
His expression grim, eyes blazing with an anger that surely came from the depths of his experiences in a foreign war, Max strode toward the passenger door.
“No, no, that space is taken, my friend—”
“So not your friend,” Max ground out.
“Be that as it may, to the back. All the way back.” He jabbed the butcher knife precariously close to a spot between Max’s shoulder blades. “The modern-day version of the way back.”
Max hunched down under the hatch and curled up on the floor behind the back seat. Cole closed the hatch.
“Now, my pretty, you shall see my surprise.” He slid open the passenger door.
Leyla curled in a fetal position on the seat. Duct tape covered her mouth. Bruises and dried blood decorated her face.
“Leyla.” Surely she screamed the name, but only a whisper sounded. “Leyla?”
“She’s quite the spitfire. Just like you. She thought she’d escape. I had to subdue her.” Cole nudged Leyla with the knife. She whimpered, but her eyes didn’t open. “I may have gotten a bit carried away, but she was so determined, I had trouble containing myself.”
God? God! “Forget prison.” Teagan raised her bound hands. She swung. Laughing a high-pitched, ugly laugh, Cole danced out of her way. Still swinging, she fell to her knees. “I’ll kill you!”
“See there. Given the right circumstances, every human being will resort to violence to get his way.”
“You’re not a human being.”
“I thought you Christians believed every man or woman is a child of God, worthy of redemption.” He grabbed her arm in a bruising grip and dragged her to her feet. “Doesn’t your God want me to repent and be saved?”
“He does.” The words burned her mouth. “The only way you can do that is to let her go. Let me go and turn yourself in.”
“Now who’s delusional? Hop into the front seat next to me. I like to be cozy with my ladies.” He poked her with the gun. She wrestled her gaze from Leyla’s inert form and hoisted herself into the front seat. Cole slid the passenger door shut. Ever the gentleman, he gently pulled the seat belt across her body and clicked it in place. “Safety first.”
While he trotted around the car and slid into the seat next to her, Teagan prayed. For Leyla. For Max. For a way out. And for her father, who’d done nothing to deserve this. God, don’t give Dad another cross to bear. I’m ready to come home whenever You say, but don’t make me a lesson he has to learn. Please.
Fear not.
The words were distinct and shiny in a world gone dark.
Fear not.
By the time Cole punched the ignition key, she had moved on to reviewing the conversation with her dad that first night in her childhood home. His instructions had been clear. An encounter with a serial killer should first be avoided.
“Flee. Escape.”
Too late for that. Next, “Resist verbally.”
Not working here.
“I took a self-defense course for women. What about fighting my way out?”
The look on his face had been priceless.
“Honey, kick him in the family jewels if you’re that close to him. I’d rather you not be that close. Keys to the eyes. Bite his nose off. But that means you’re too close. Be prepared to run.”
“Even if he has a gun?”
“A pistol or revolver, yes. Any cop will agree if you’re more than five yards away, your chances of getting hit are slim to none. If it’s a rifle, your odds become grimmer.”
He had a gun. Max would know what kind and probably how many shots before he had to reload.
Run. Would Cole run her down in the car? Or shoot her in the back before she made it the requisite five yards? She would not leave Leyla and Max behind. Flee was a no-go.
She contemplated the darkness whooshing by the window. The pain sparred with a sense of unreality. This couldn’t be happening. The zip ties biting into her wrists in the same spots the handcuffs had bruised earlier said it was.
That left engaging Cole in conversation. Cole liked to talk, that was apparent. Maybe if he talked long enough, she’d have the chance to make a plan. That’s what Dad would do. Make and execute a plan.
“How’s Huck?”
“Ever the loyal hound.” Cole engaged the windshield wipers. They alternately squeaked and thumped. “I do need to take some time for routine maintenance, but I’ve been rather occupied of late.”
Killing women around her.
“What will happen to him when you go to prison?”
“Who?”
He’d already forgotten the loyal hound with big, sweet eyes the color of walnuts. “Did you get a dog because I have one?”
“Poor thing needed a home. The shelter is full of rescue dogs. I support their effort to become a no-kill shelter.”
“Big of you.”
“I know it’s one of Mrs. Conklin’s and your favorite causes, right up there with literacy and feeding the homeless.”
He’d used his time living across the street to gather so much information on her. Chatting with neighbors. Talking to her friends. Visiting the Little Free Library. Asking her for recipes. Bending her ear about his renovation project.
He wasn’t the only one with inside information. “When was the last time you saw your mother?”
“Over the weekend actually.” The light teasing in his voice was a dead giveaway.
No pun intended.
“You didn’t.”
“I did. She dumped me on CPS because of a drunk who didn’t like to share attention with a sickly kid.” He drummed a one-two beat on the wheel. “What kind of mother does that?”
He had a point. But Deidre hadn’t deserved to die at the hands of her own son. “She was your mother. She had grandchildren. Do you think of those things when you kill? That a woman is someone’s daughter or mother or sister or grandmother? Doesn’t it bother you?”
“I wish it did. I’ve tried to care. I’ve even tried to shed a tear.” He patted her hand. “I’m more likely to be able to shed that tear over you. I’ve become quite attached to you this last year as I’ve studied you and stalked you.”
Madness sat beside her, touching her. Teagan drew a steadying breath. Show no fear. “Then don’t kill me. Let us go. Disappear. Start over.”
“And miss the chance to make your father suffer? No way. He has to understand what loss feels like.”
“My mother died when I was nine. He understands loss.”
“He’s forgotten.”
All those nights she slipped from bed and wandered in the dark, seeking her mother’s scent on towels, touching her jewelry on the bathroom vanity, peeking into the dark living room where her father sat staring into space night after night. “Nobody forgets. Why kill Officer Moreno? Evelyn, Julie? What about Charity Waters? Did you kill them, or did you have your stepbrother and his girlfriend do it?”
“They’re too stupid to be trusted with an actual kill.” Disdain dripped from the words. “They couldn’t even handle keeping you and lover boy stowed away.”
“So you killed four women who aren’t related to me, and my father didn’t even know them. Why?”
“Don’t you get it? You’re your father’s only child. The only memento from his first and only true love. Making you suffer, putting you in danger, makes him suffer the greatest loss.”
&n
bsp; “You couldn’t have killed Officer Moreno. You’re a teacher, not a sniper.”
“It’s amazing what people are willing to teach a guy. The dark web is full of bad guy mercenaries who’ll do anything for the right price. My adopted grandfather died a few years ago and left me a nice little inheritance. Perfect for funding my, shall we say, extracurricular activities.”
Teagan’s stomach bucked. Keep him talking. He likes to brag. He likes an audience. He’s a narcissistic egomaniac. “Evelyn was an old lady.”
“And you loved her. Just like you loved Julie. She was a fighter. I can’t remember when I’ve had so much fun. I suspect I’m about to have even more.”
Teagan swallowed again and again. Her throat burned. Her head swam. “Shut up. Just shut up!”
“You asked.” He pulled up in front of the cabin and put the SUV in Park.
Teagan dug her heels into the rubber mat below her feet.
If they went into the cabin, they would not come out alive.
“Shall we, my dear?”
“I’m not your dear or your friend or your anything. I’m not going in there.”
“Don’t be that way. I have to carry little ballerina. Or I could just kill her here and make you watch. What’ll it be?”
“You’re going to kill us all one way or another. Inside, outside—what difference does it make?”
More opportunity to run outside than inside.
A smile crept across his face in the console light. His chuckle held a note of delighted anticipation. “Oh my. So many possibilities. A good tussle. A romp in the woods. A swim in the lake.”
The lake was close. Cabins on private property dotted the shores of Medina Lake for much of its length. People would be in them, enjoying summer vacations. They would have phones. The county park, shared by Medina and Bandera counties, would be closed for the evening. Not knowing where this cabin sat was a seemingly insurmountable challenge. “I’m not going in there. I’m not making this easy for you.”
“Have it your way.”
Time sped up despite every attempt to stop it.
Cole opened his door. “Sit tight. I’m coming for you.”
His steps quickened as he strode around the car and again removed her seat belt with a kind of reverence. She shrank back from his touch. He leaned in and sniffed. “You smell like sweat and fear. I rather enjoy that eau de perfume, love.”
“The least you could do is call me by my name. Teagan.”
“I know your name.”
“But using it makes me a real person. You don’t want to do that.”
“I shared a body with you. That’s the most intimate act short of—Well, we’ll get to that.”
She dug in her heels and leaned away from him. He pulled her from the car. She plopped to her knees, intentionally limp.
“These delaying tactics only fan my ardor. You know that, right?” He leaned into the car and produced the butcher knife. “Perhaps a little foreplay to fan yours?” The tip of the knife trailed across her cheek and down her neck. “Stand up.”
She stood.
“Stay.” He opened the passenger door and pulled Leyla from her perch. Her eyelids flickered and then opened. “There you are, my dear. You’ll want to be awake for the fun.”
Her eyes widened. Her body thrashed. She tried to scream through the duct tape. Muffled animal sounds.
Teagan threw herself forward. “Get your hands off her!”
“No, no, no.” The gun came up again. This time it was pointed at Leyla’s head. “Back away.”
Teagan backed away.
Cole plopped Leyla on the ground and dragged her writhing body by her shirt collar toward the back of the van. “Come along, dear. You don’t want to miss a thing, I promise you.”
He tapped the button on his remote. The hatch hummed and lifted.
Max rolled out and head butted Cole in the gut.
Cole stumbled back.
Max’s 180 pounds of solid boxer muscle landed on top of him. The pistol flew into the air and disappeared into the dark terrain beyond the cabin’s security lighting.
Teagan launched herself at Cole. She stomped on his hand. He dropped the butcher knife. She grabbed it and smacked him in the head with the flat side.
With an angry grunt, he hit the ground a second time. “You’re dead. You’re all dead.”
Max rolled around and kicked him in the gut twice. “Get the gun.”
The knife slid from Teagan’s grip. She dropped to the ground and crawled through the mud and muck. Her hands, tied together, touched slimy grass, twigs, and indefinable sponginess. Seconds ticked by.
God, I need this gun. I need it now.
Surely not the craziest request God had received, but not one to be expected from His pacifist daughter.
Please, God, please.
Her hands closed around the smooth butt of the gun. She grasped it, struggled to her knees, and turned.
Cole had his arm around Max’s neck, the knife to his throat. Blood trickled down Cole’s forehead. He had one boot-clad foot on Leyla’s head. His grim smile sent shudders through Teagan’s body. “It’s been lovely, really. I like a challenge, I do. But all good things must come to an end. Give me the gun or I’ll slit his throat. I’ll stomp your sweet sister’s head in.”
“Not if I shoot you first.” The words came out of her mouth with no hesitation.
“Nobody shoots anyone on my behalf.” She’d said those words only a week ago to her family. This was different. She would kill to save Max and Leyla. Pure and simple. Billy, Gracie, and Justin had to make decisions like this because it was their job.
To save lives.
“You won’t shoot me, dear. You abhor guns, remember? That’s why you didn’t become a cop. You didn’t have the stomach for it.”
“Plant your feet. Steady. Raise your arms and look down the sight.”
Dad’s calm voice filled her mind. She hadn’t wanted to go to the range with him. The other kids clamored for the chance to shoot. The repeated rat-a-tat-tat-tat of the bullets firing made her jump again and again. The recoil in the pistol he insisted she learn to fire, disassemble, clean, and reassemble made her arms and shoulders hurt.
To shoot at a target was one thing. To shoot a man with a knife to Max’s throat another.
“Come on, T, put the gun down.”
T? How dare he? She raised her arms, gun clasped between her hands, and sighted his forehead. Dad always said aim for center mass, but center mass was Max.
She didn’t believe in guns, but she believed in him. She believed in family.
She pulled the trigger.
The bullet pinged over their heads into the darkness beyond.
“Oops. You missed.”
“But I won’t.” A semiautomatic weapon snug against his shoulder, Justin raced into the clearing. “Drop it. Now!”
Immediately, a dozen other officers did the same. Billy. Gracie. Dad. All with their weapons pointed at Cole.
Cole might rue the day he brought a knife to a gunfight, but he still had the upper hand.
He had Leyla. He had Max.
39
Isn’t that special. A family affair.” Cole tightened his grip around Max’s neck. Max struggled. “You really don’t want to do that. What if you hit lover boy here?”
“I just renewed my certification at the range.” Billy drew even with Justin. “I’ve been told I’m an excellent candidate for sniper school.”
“Drop the knife.” A Medina County Sheriff’s Department deputy stepped into the fray. “Don’t make it worse. From what I hear, your half brother is back in San Antonio baring his soul to a detective right now.”
“Go ahead. Make a move.” Dad had pistols in both hands. Both aimed at Cole. “I know they want to take you alive, but after what you’ve put my family through, I’d just as soon drop you like the rabid vermin you are.”
“I’m not giving you anything you want.” Cole sneered. Ugly red blotches covered his cheeks an
d neck. “You put my father in jail. You made sure I’d never have a chance to know him. You deserve to suffer.”
“Your dad didn’t want to know you. He gave you up a long time ago.” Dad jerked his head toward Teagan. She widened her stance and steadied her aim. His gaze went back to Cole. “Nothing you did for him will make a difference. He’ll get the needle and so will you.”
Dad lifted the pistols higher. “Or I can just take you out now and save the taxpayers a bunch of money.”
Cole let loose a stream of vile obscenities. Spittle flew. The knife tightened on Max’s neck. Max jerked. A trickle of blood seeped from his skin and darkened his collar.
Reynolds hurled the knife to the ground. He stepped back, shoved Max, who stumbled and collapsed to his knees next to Leyla. “Go ahead, shoot me. Shoot me now. I’m not afraid to die.”
Dad’s weapons remained on Cole. The desire to give Cole what he deserved etched lines of agonizing fury on his face.
“Dad, no, stand down.” Teagan lowered her gun. She understood his desire. She even felt it. But she didn’t glory in it. “We’re not like him. We’re not animals.”
“He hurt you. He hurt Leyla. He would’ve killed you.”
“Let the justice system work, Dad. He’ll be in prison for years, fighting the death penalty.” Teagan moved closer. “You know how it works. He’ll sit in his cell day after day, night after night, waiting, knowing he’ll die in the end. It’s perfect.”
“She’s right, Dillon, you know she is.” His voice soft, Justin approached from the other side. “Give me the guns. Leyla needs you.”
With a hoarse sob, her father handed over his weapons. He grabbed Teagan and crushed her to his chest. “Are you hurt? Are you all right?” He pushed her back and gave her a once-over. “And Leyla? Is she . . . ?”
“She’s alive.”
He threw his arm around her. Together they scrambled across the grass to where Max knelt with her sister.
