by Stone, Mary
He shook his head.
Clay grinned but didn’t interrupt.
Brutus fidgeted, his movements stunted because of his hands being cuffed behind his back. It was almost comical. He was trying not to touch Ellie or Clay, but in the tight space, he didn’t have anywhere to release his nervous energy.
“Are you still listening, Brutus?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I can see why Katarina liked you. You’re big and strong, and you have manners to boot.” She leaned forward so she could see past Brutus and smiled at Clay. “Manners are such a nice thing, aren’t they, Agent Lockwood?”
Clay nodded. “A criminal with manners is so refreshing.”
“I’m not a criminal.” They’d struck a chord with Brutus.
Ellie pressed him further. “All right, well, let’s just call you…the assistant of a criminal. This isn’t Katarina’s first rodeo, and you’re not the first person she’s left to take the fall. You’re in a lot of trouble, and the evidence we have suggests you were the ringleader.”
Brutus sat up straighter, banging his head on the roof of the car. He winced. “Dammit, that hurt.”
“Not as bad as prison will.”
“No matter what I tell you, I’m still going to jail.”
Ellie lifted one shoulder, turning one palm up. “Sure, you’re probably right. But if there’s a chance you could avoid a life sentence, wouldn’t you want to try? Katarina left you to take the blame for everything. You don’t have any reason to be loyal to her. Tell me where she is, and I’ll let the D.A. know you cooperated.”
Brutus sucked in a deep breath and exhaled a sob. Burying his face in the back of the seat, he pulled his knees up and curled up as tightly as he could in the small space. “I want to help you,” he said between sobs, “but I can’t. Katarina was right there before the first flash-bang grenade went off. Then she was gone. I don’t know how she escaped, and I have no idea where she could’ve gone.” He lifted his head, his skin blotchy and red as he looked Ellie right in the eye. “If I knew where she was, I’d turn her over to you. That’s the honest truth.”
Ellie and Clay shared a look, and she nodded. “I believe you, Brutus.”
“Can you help me?”
“That’s up to the D.A., Brutus. I’d say I wish you good luck, but I honestly hope they throw the book at you.”
They left Brutus in a crumbled heap in the back of the cruiser.
An agent holding a clipboard straightened when he noticed Ellie and Clay, waving them over. “There’s a problem.”
Ellie sighed. “Another one?”
“This is a weird one.” His forehead was wrinkled as he scanned the paper in front of him. “I found this list of captives, and we confirmed that the numbers match up.”
Ellie’s heart sank. “Are we missing someone?”
“Not exactly.” He turned the clipboard toward her, holding up a second piece of paper. “The list on the clipboard is from the auction, and this one is a list of hostages removed from the cages tonight. We confirmed with that fellow crying in the squad car and the other guard that Katarina was auctioning off her entire stock.”
Ellie cringed at the word. There was something so wrong about calling humans “stock,” but she knew it was necessary. A person didn’t encounter this much evil on a regular basis without finding ways to separate somehow from the unspeakable horrors. “All right, so she was selling everyone, and this hostage list has one more. Are you sure the auction list is up to date?”
He nodded. “Yes, Detective.”
She pointed to the agent’s list of rescued hostages. “What’s the star here for?”
“This woman was in a holding cell closer to the auction block. We think she was next in line to be sold. We group the people who were held together on paper in case there are questions later.”
“And this woman was all alone?” Clay stepped up next to Ellie.
The agent inhaled through his nose, his jaw clenching as he nodded. “When she was rescued, she was locked in the cage, clothes ripped, pretty filthy. The cage, however, was the only one being currently used without reinforcements for the roof.”
The hair stood up on Ellie’s arms, and it felt as if she’d been punched in the gut. She wanted to scream, but instead, she took a deep breath, keeping her shit together. “She could’ve locked herself in there.” She cursed as she turned in a circle, scanning the trees surrounding the remote property. “Katarina is smart. She posed as a hostage and made sure she was released first.” She cursed again, anger like she’d never known burning through her veins. “I can’t believe Katarina got away. She was here.”
“We’ll get her next time.”
“Agent Lockwood?” A compact woman dressed in the black all the agents wore led a small figure tucked into a blanket, her gaze on Ellie.
The agent turned to the woman who had obviously just been rescued. “This is Noelle. Noelle, this is Agent Lockwood and Detective Kline. Tell them what you just told me.”
“There’s a man, he was a captive.” The woman sniffled, pushing strawberry-blonde hair out of her eyes. “He claimed he’d killed almost a hundred women, that he’s a serial killer.”
Clay’s gaze swung to Ellie. “Bingo. Today’s your lucky day.”
30
Matt sat on the back bumper of the ambulance, dutifully allowing the petite female paramedic to take his blood pressure.
“All done. You need to follow up with your regular physician in the next few days, but everything looks good. You’re very lucky.”
He smirked, winking at the woman who’d spent the past ten minutes examining his wounds. “I hear that a lot.”
She blushed and was about to say something before spotting a stout woman in all black walking toward them. “That’s one of the agents coming to get your statement.” He leaned forward to stand, but she placed her hand on his arm to stop him. “You don’t need to move. You’re my last patient, so you can just sit there if you like. I can’t leave until the scene is cleared anyway.”
“Thank you.” He squeezed her hand, delighted when her blush deepened. Even battered and bruised, women couldn’t resist him.
“I’m Agent Gemma Benham. I’ll be interviewing you this evening.”
Matt patted the bumper beside him. “Plenty of room here if you want to sit down while we talk.”
“I’ll stand. I just have a few questions and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Can I ask you one?”
She lowered her tablet and smiled at him. “Of course.”
“When can I leave? I’ve been in a cage for weeks, and I just want to sleep in my own bed tonight.” And find my truck.
“There’s more that needs to be done to ensure we are able to nail the people who did this to you in court, but you’re more than halfway through.”
He frowned, but had no choice but to cooperate, seeing how he was in BFE. “All right. Let’s get this done.”
“Good. Now, if you feel overwhelmed or need me to rephrase a question, let me know.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Hugging the tablet against her chest, she searched his eyes. “It’s fine if you’re not fine too. You know that, right?”
“I understand.” He tried to conjure a pitiful look, the way the other captives had seemed, but had never gone this long without killing once he’d found a victim. That was Katarina’s fault. Now though, he couldn’t help but think about tying this agent in the back of the ambulance. He wondered if a federal agent would give him more power than any other he’d snuffed the life from.
“Good.” He must have been convincing, because Agent Benham’s smile returned, warm and reassuring. “Let’s start with your name.”
“Matt Baker.” He had to hold in a laugh, as if he would ever give the FBI his real name.
“Thank you, Matt. Now, is that Matthew, or just Matt?”
“Just Matt. My father didn’t believe in formal names if you were never going to use them.”
She cradled the large tablet on her arm as she tapped out his answers. His eyes wandered over the agents in the background as she continued the questions, but he was so exhausted it was a struggle to stay focused. “What an interesting name story. What about your address?”
He hesitated and offered a sad smile. “I was street dependent when they snatched me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She looked up from the tablet, fingers poised above the screen, frown mirroring his. “I’ll make sure to let Victim Services know. Perhaps they can help you with that.”
“Thank you.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. He didn’t have to pretend to be exhausted, he was tired to the bone.
“Just a few more questions, then we’re through.”
“All right.”
She smiled at him before tapping on the tablet screen. Pausing, she frowned. “You know what? My tablet just died.” She fiddled with the on button a few times and shook her head. “I have to grab another tablet. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here.” He leaned back against the open door of the ambulance, stretching his legs out.
Agent Benham walked over to a group of agents, but he was distracted as a small figure huddled in a blanket was led past. Noelle.
His groin tightened, but he frowned. She knew what he’d done. Hell, he’d all but confessed in front of her. In front of all the captives. Damn Katarina.
No matter. He would claim he was trying to intimidate Katarina, or else had gone temporarily out of his head, the way he’d witnessed his own victims do.
He was safe, no worries. There hadn’t been much to worry about other than his own needs in a very long time.
And his needs were awake. He wondered who it would be.
Yawning, he allowed himself a momentary fantasy. Noelle, bound and gagged. The forest all around them as he sharpened the sticks that would fasten her to the ground. He loved how active his imagination was, dreaming up new ways to torture every time.
Matt’s eyes went skyward, the sight of the stars so beautiful they nearly took his breath away. It was good to be outside.
He’d just close his eyes for a moment, rest them for a while. A hand on his shoulder startled him. He jerked awake, his heart slamming against his chest.
Trying to cover his reaction, he smiled, then realized the cute little agent wasn’t in front of him. These two were unfamiliar, and they were staring at him hard. “Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“I’m Detective Kline, and this is Agent Lockwood. You look like you’ve had a rough time. How are you feeling?”
“A detective?” He arched a brow at the redhead. Cute. A little tall for his liking, but he wasn’t picky. “Impressive. You don’t look old enough to vote.” She was pretty, her vibrant red hair escaping a French braid in tiny ringlets. His heart quickened and his mouth went dry. She’s next. It was all he could do not to completely ignore the male agent. He placed his hand on his forehead and winced dramatically. “Sorry, I’m still not feeling well. Maybe we can do this another time? I can meet you at your office.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
He groaned, turning up the act. “I may have to go to the hospital. Maybe you could stay with me.” He glanced around, as if he was embarrassed and didn’t want to be overheard. “It’s hard to admit this, but I’m scared. Being kidnapped is really traumatic.”
“So I’ve heard.” Detective Kline took a step closer to him, reaching out for his hand.
Matt extended his large one, his grip swallowing hers. Her skin was so warm and soft against his, it sent butterflies crashing around in his stomach.
There was a click as something cold and metal slapped against his wrist.
He froze, the familiar sound of the handcuff’s locking mechanism sending a wave of panic through him. “What the hell.”
“Matt Loomis, you’re under arrest for the—”
“What?” He yanked his hand back, the cuff only locked around one wrist. She didn’t let the other handcuff go, still talking as if he hadn’t interrupted. Desperate to stop the madness, he raised his voice to be heard over her. “I’m Matt Baker. I’m the victim here. That crazy woman kidnapped me. Whatever she told you, I didn’t do it.”
“If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you free of charge.”
“Did you hear me? I’m not one of them. They kidnapped me!” He was shouting, panic laced through his voice. “This is insane. I have information on this woman. Katarina. I can help you find her, but you have to believe me. I’m not involved in this.”
“You’re being charged with the murder of Charity Parker, Sheila Walker, Allie Border…”
His stomach dropped as her voice faded beneath the pounding in his ears.
They knew.
He didn’t know how, but they knew what he’d done, and they had names.
He’d escaped being sold, only to be captured. If they had connected Charity and Sheila, it was only a matter of time before they found out how many women he’d killed. He was going to be tried in several states, and they were all going to seek the death penalty.
Shoving his cuffed fist into Detective Kline’s stomach, he whipped his free hand from behind his back, where he’d hidden the disposable scalpel he’d pilfered and had planned to use on the paramedic.
Detective Kline’s eyes went wide.
Time slowed down.
Raising the scalpel, he bunched his muscles to launch himself from the ambulance and bury the sharp blade in the detective’s chest.
A loud boom filled the air, causing his ears to ring.
Confused, he stared at the blade in his hand, wondering at the searing pain that suddenly filled his chest.
Agent Lockwood rushed forward, his mouth wide as he shouted…something. The words were lost in the beating of Matt’s own heart.
Detective Kline stared at his chest with wide eyes. Following her gaze, Matt looked down, and his attention was captured by the red spreading over the white shirt he’d been given to replace his ripped one.
The slow motion he’d been trapped in returned to normal, and he stumbled backwards, dropping the scalpel to clutch his fingers over his chest.
Shot. He’d been shot.
He didn’t seem to be able to make his body do what he wanted it to. Was he even breathing? He hit the ground hard, first on his knees, then collapsing to his back.
Someone called for a paramedic, and he tried to laugh, because yes, he wanted the paramedic. But the only sound that came out was a gurgle. That was bad.
Detective Kline fell down on her knees, holding out a cloth to press against his chest.
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her closer to his face until they were nose to nose. He inhaled, drawing in the sweet scent of vanilla and jasmine, and smiled up at the pretty redhead with green eyes.
“We would’ve had so much fun before I killed you.”
He didn’t live long enough to hear her response.
31
Ellie lounged on her living room couch, having already changed into her pajamas after a long Friday.
A quiet knock at the door interrupted her reading.
She glanced at Jillian, who shrugged. “I’m not expecting anyone.”
Beside the door, Sam was sound asleep in her giant memory foam dog bed, completely unconcerned by the unexpected visitor.
Ellie retrieved her gun before checking the peephole, surprised to find Nick standing in her hallway. She opened the door, stepping out of his way. “You look great, way better than you did last week when they wheeled you out on a stretcher.”
“Thanks,” Nick deadpanned. “My vanity can take the abuse.” He laughed, petting Sam when the dog jumped up to greet him. “It’s been a rough week, though. Concussions are no joke.”
Jillian hugged Nick, moving over so he could sit on the sofa. “I’m so glad you’re okay. You are okay?”
Nick’s voice was a little too warm, the happiness forced. He
touched his ribs and groaned. “I’m still a little tender in some places, but otherwise I’m feeling like myself. The doctor seemed to agree. He cleared me for normal activity, and not a moment too soon.”
Ellie got up to fetch him a bottle of water to give herself time to think. What was Nick doing here? “Hot date?” She sat the bottle on the coffee table in front of him and resumed her seat.
He shook his head. “I was going stir-crazy being stuck at home.” He gave a hopeful smile. “I am looking forward to Sunday dinner, if you’ll have me.” His chest rose as he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for what I said to you, Ellie. I know I was wrong, and I should have listened to you.”
“I tried to tell you.”
“I know.”
She was torn. On one hand, she was still hurt by how Nick had treated her. But on the other, she knew that if Nick hadn’t been kidnapped, they may have never found Lucky or uncovered the gruesome facts about his past.
A psychopath, Matt Loomis had grown up in Kansas with a single mother and a younger sister, all left behind by a father who had taken his role of man of the house a little too far. After looking into his past, it had been discovered that his mother’s death was suspect, and his little sister had sadly been his first kill after his mother’s death.
His first non-related murder had taken place nearby, after which he took to the road. The media had taken to calling him “The Cold Highway Killer.” The ACTeam was still linking his victims, including Allie Border, Charity Parker, Madeleine Vaughn, and Sheila Walker, among many Jane Does.
Even though Katarina was still on the loose, the ongoing investigation meant closure to so many families, including Charity’s family, Faith, Lyle, and Hope. And there were over a dozen people who were saved from a life of slavery. She had to remember all the good that came from that.
“You saved my life and stopped what could have been a tragedy for the Strong family. They send their thanks.” He gave a weak smile but abandoned the effort when there was a slight tremor in his upper lip.
