by D. K. Hood
She could hear them behind her. Footsteps ran in all directions hunting the hallways. She reached the backdoor and turned around, using her bound hands to search for the handle. Fingers slipping, she turned the knob and the door swung open. Cold air hit her bare flesh as she dived outside narrowly missing a hand trying to grab her. In terror, she ducked away and dashed along the narrow path heading back along the way they’d entered the house. She’d seen lights in nearby homes and increased her pace. The person behind her was gaining, she could hear heavy breathing and footsteps on the gravel. The edge of the building loomed, highlighted by a streetlamp. In a few more paces, she’d be out on the road and sprinting toward another house, people, and safety. She rounded the side of the house at speed and a figure stepped out of the shadows. Strong hands grabbed her and spun her around. The person who’d chased her moved into the light and she recognized her at once. She wanted to scream but the gag was filling her throat and making it hard to breathe through her nose.
“Take her back upstairs.” The young woman’s lip curled. “I haven’t finished with her yet.”
Terrified of what was to come, Becky aimed a knee at her dream date’s groin but he sidestepped and hoisted her over one shoulder and then headed back inside. Blood rushed to her head as he carried her up the stairs but when he dropped her on the floor, she kicked out. She wanted to inflict as much damage as possible. He flipped her over as if she weighed nothing, dragged her back to her knees, and an instant later the horror began again.
Terror gripped her as the cord slipped around her neck sliding into already painful grooves. Her tormentor pulled her head back and the cord cut deeper into her flesh. From behind her she could hear the young woman’s heavy breathing and in front of her, her dream date had dropped to his knees to watch her intently. What had she done to make them so angry?
“Kiss her.” The female’s voice rasped from behind her. “Take her last breath. Do it!”
“I can’t.” He looked past Becky to the person strangling her. “She’s turning blue.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Why is it taking so long?”
“Because I want her to suffer.” The young woman behind her giggled. “Kiss her and I’ll end it.”
Unable to breathe and losing consciousness, Becky pushed back hard and managed to drag in one precious breath. She tried to fight but the girl behind her was strong. In panic, she rolled again. She had to get free.
“Do something.” The female tightened the cord again and pressed a knee harder into her spine. “Or I’m leaving you to deal with this mess.”
Fighting for her life, Becky stared at him, willing him to take pity on her but the flashlight didn’t move from her face. God help her, he was enjoying seeing her suffer. Terror had her in its grip but she’d never give up. A beam of light moved across the room. Maybe he’d changed his mind or this was just a prank but the next instant, agony seared through her temple. Oh Lord, he’d hit her. Dizzy, she slumped to the floor. Head splitting, she glanced up to see him in a shaft of moonlight, his eyes wild as he raised the flashlight above his head, and then the room folded in on itself.
Twenty-Eight
After finishing a steak so big the sides came on different plates, eating a wedge of chocolate cake, and then relaxing to a hum of conversation, Kane leaned back pleasantly satisfied. He sipped his one glass of wine and waited for Jenna, Jo, and Jaime to head up to Jo’s room at The Cattleman’s Hotel before pulling out his phone to call Stan Williams. He hadn’t planned to give the man a head’s up of his arrival but didn’t want to spook him by turning up with Carter unannounced. “Hi, Stan, it’s Dave Kane, will you be home tonight?”
“Yeah sure, I’m not home just now, so make it after ten-thirty. I have a ton of cold beer to go with the photographs and some videos I’ve taped as well.” Williams sounded enthusiastic.
Kane nodded to Ty Carter. “Great, I’m bringing a friend. We’re out at The Cattleman’s so we’ll keep ourselves entertained.”
“Catch you later.” Williams disconnected.
“You do know this isn’t my department?” Carter took a toothpick from his top pocket and tossed it into his mouth. “We’ll need to be careful or he’ll be shouting entrapment.”
Kane had given it some thought. “Not if we don’t arrest him.” He smiled. “If we find anything suspicious, we’ll turn it over to the FBI’s Child Exploitation and Human Trafficking Task Force. They have the resources to follow up and make the arrests. I’ve found these crimes can be widespread and they use undercover units to break pedophile rings.”
“Yeah.” Carter leaned back in his chair clearly amused. “You’re preaching to the choir here.” He pointed a finger at Kane. “I can’t quite figure you out. I picked you as military first day we met but my gut feeling is never wrong. Heck, I’ve solved cases on gut feeling alone.” He shook his head in a frustrated manner. “I’ve worked beside you, seen how you move, shoot, and prioritize. You have inside knowledge you shouldn’t have access to and the guys upstairs cleared you and Jenna in minutes. Shane had no hesitation in recommending you for the last case.” He scratched his cheek and looked at him, his green eyes intent. “Look man, I’m not prying and I don’t want to know the details but you know what I figure?”
Kane rolled his eyes in a dramatic gesture to show his amusement, although deep down inside the old warning bells were blasting like air-raid sirens. “What do you figure?”
“I’ll lay my cards on the table but I’ll expect you to say nothing.” Carter leaned forward and dropped his voice to just above a whisper. “You, my friend, are an off the grid black ops operator sent here undercover to unravel some mystery.” He watched his reaction closely. “No? Then the powers that be are hiding you here in plain sight. I also figure Jenna is aware of what you are and Shane is your handler.”
Amazed but not surprised by his insight, Kane barked a laugh. “Okay, well if that were true, you’ve just compromised my mission and I’d have to kill you.” He gave him a look to stop any further conversation. “That’s the way it goes, right?”
“Yeah and you’d do it too but I’m a Seal. Killing me might not be so easy.” Carter observed him solemnly. “I know snipers, and you’re not the first one I’ve worked with. You can flip the switch any time you choose, can’t you? Drop into the zone, make your heart slow and take out a target without a second thought. From what Jo says, Jenna refers to it as your combat face. You disturb her, you know? Sometimes she doesn’t know what side of you to expect.”
Astonished by the revelation that Jenna had spoken to Jo about him, Kane finished his wine and stared at him. “Like you, the military trained me to kill. They gave me the skills and I use them lawfully and I’m always in complete control. To say Jenna is in any way concerned about me is a darn right lie. We spend all our downtime together and she wouldn’t do that if she thought I might hurt her.”
“I saw you man, the night we discussed the car bombing out of DC. I watched her and she was frightened by your reaction.” Carter sipped his beer. “You turned to stone and walked out in the middle of a discussion. What was that all about?”
Kane fell into the lie in his records about a life he’d never lived. “If you know so much about me, you’d know my sister was killed in a car wreck. The images brought back memories is all.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “The woman in the photographs looked just like her.” He narrowed his gaze. “End of conversation.” He waved at the waiter. “We have to go. I’ll get this.”
“No, you won’t.” Carter pulled out his credit card. “We’ve both been consulting with you, so the bureau pays. We haven’t made a small dent in our budget this year. The one thing Jo did negotiate for coming here was a massive allowance to cover cases. Let’s face it we have to travel far and wide from Snakeskin Gully—when we get an assignment.”
With the hairs on the back of his neck still prickling from their conversation, Kane smiled to break the tension. “If you insist.”
“T
ell me more about this guy.” Ty leaned back in his chair and stared at him. “What waved a red flag when you interviewed him?”
“You mean apart from a shrine to underage cheerleaders?” Kane raised both eyebrows. “You’re not the only person with a gut feeling.”
Behind the general store Kane pulled into the parking space beside Williams’ truck and they made their way up the creaking back stairs. The porch light was on, spilling a weak yellowish glow over the steps. High above, the night’s final fireworks display shot into the sky, sending the darkness into a parade of bright sparkling colors, and filling the pristine air with the stink of gunpowder.
He knocked and heard footsteps as Stan Williams came to the door. It opened and Williams looked past Kane to Carter with a worried expression that eased as Carter moved into the light. “Stan, this is Ty, a friend of mine from Snakeskin Gully here for the festival.”
“Come inside.” Williams held out a hand to Carter. “Nice to meet you. It’s good to find two men in town of like mind. Many don’t understand my passion for cheerleaders.”
“Oh, I like cheerleaders just fine.” Carter moved the toothpick across his mouth and smiled with it clenched between his teeth. “I’ve dated my fair share, well more than my fair share. Being the quarterback in high school helped some.”
“Yeah, the problem is, people find it unusual that I prefer the cheerleaders from high school, they don’t understand that as they get older the allure isn’t there anymore.” Sweat coated Williams’ brow and he carried the odor of bleach. Kane said nothing but walked straight to the wall of images and turned back to Carter. “See, he’s captured them in every pose?”
“Yeah.” Carter moved along the bench. “You collect pompoms too?” He chuckled. “Like trophies? How many pairs do you have?”
“A few.” Williams wiped the sweat from his brow on his sleeve. “You’ve seen my latest shots, is there anything else you want to see?” He shrugged. “I do have to work in the morning.”
Kane smiled, noticing the additional pompoms from the last time he’d been inside Williams’ home. “What about the images of the girls you take here, in the studio. Can you share them with us?”
“There are quite a few but I’ll show you some of my favorites.” Williams went to his computer and scrolled through a page of image files and then opened one and stood back. “This is Shirley, she worked on Saturdays in the store downstairs and she’d drop by to model for me.”
“Did you pay her?” Carter leaned on the desk peering at the screen. “For modeling?”
“Yeah, she needed the cash.” Williams opened a file of a young woman holding the pompoms and wearing just her underwear. “She was real cute.”
“Was?” Kane looked at him. “What happened to her?”
“Her family moved away and I read somewhere she’d gone missing.” Williams frowned. “It was five years or so ago. I’m not sure.”
Kane ground his teeth as the images and explanations went on for half an hour. He’d seen enough and now had other concerns he had to discuss with Jenna. He straightened. “We’d better let you get some rest. Did you at least have a good time at the festival today? The fireworks were spectacular. I missed the ones just before but we caught the earlier ones from the window at The Cattleman’s.”
“Fireworks? Oh, they put on quite a show, don’t they? I spent my time taking photographs as usual but I had something else to do tonight.” Williams didn’t meet Kane’s eyes, shifting his gaze to the pompoms on the bench. He swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “It was good of you both to drop by. Maybe we can spend some time one weekend, when you’re back again, Ty, or I can send you some of my shots? Do you have any we could swap?”
“I’m sure I’ll be able to find something to share. I’ll be in touch. Dave has your details.” Carter removed his hat, ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair, and headed for the door. “We’ll see you later.” He disappeared down the stairs.
Kane hurried after him and once inside the Beast he looked at Carter. “I thought he was a predator but now I’m seriously considering he may be a possible suspect in Laurie Turner’s murder.”
“How so?” Carter pushed on his Stetson.
Kane started the engine. “Pompoms.”
Twenty-Nine
Jake Rowley disconnected a call from Jenna. She was still at The Cattleman’s Hotel and in Jo’s room, waiting for Kane and Agent Carter to get back from speaking to Stan Williams. Although he’d checked Williams out and had found nothing suspicious, and no complaints made against him, apparently Bobby Kalo out of the FBI office in Snakeskin Gully had unearthed something in his past. They’d found zip on the search warrant for the green Chrysler sedan admittedly driven by Verna Hughes. The judge ruled it was hearsay and not probable cause. Rowley tidied the front desk and pulled on his jacket. The deputy assigned to take over for the next few hours had already arrived and he’d explained everything he needed to know. It was just a precaution to have the sheriff’s department open until all the revelers in town had headed home. The day had gone fine, with only the usual disturbances and arguments that happened when a crowd of people descended on the town. It had been a long day and he looked forward to crawling into bed. He yawned and called Sandy. She’d be glad to know he was on his way to collect her.
The phone rang and rang with no reply. He checked the number and tried again. A knot of worry curled in his stomach and then he took a few deep breaths. She’d mentioned going upstairs to watch the fireworks and drink hot chocolate in her favorite chair and had probably fallen asleep. Of late, she’d been sleeping like the dead. She’d missed the old stuffed leather chair and wanted to take it to the ranch. He’d even asked Jenna if he could buy it for her and was confused at her refusal but the surprise came the day they’d finished the nursery. A delivery truck had arrived at the gate carrying a fine leather chair, made especially for nursing mothers. It rocked and was complete with footrest. It was a gift from Jenna and Dave. He could still hear Sandy’s woops of joy. She would treasure it always.
Rowley climbed into his SUV and drove the short distance to the old house, surprised to find it in darkness. Sandy wasn’t afraid of the dark but when they’d lived here, he’d never arrived home without seeing the porch light blazing a welcome and at least the hall light on downstairs. He parked and rushed to the front door, using his key to gain entrance. The house stunk of bleach as if someone had emptied and entire bottle on the floor. “Sandy?”
He flicked on lights. Nothing. Concern knotted his gut as he pulled out his Maglite and searched each room, looking for her. Nothing seemed disturbed. He walked into the kitchen and as the Maglite flooded the room, he made out Sandy’s purse and Thermos on the counter, same as when he’d left her. “Sandy, are you up there?”
Nothing.
Fear gripped him for her safety but his training clicked in to prevent him rushing up the stairs into unknown danger. If he heard a sound, he’d call for backup but likely Sandy was asleep in the bedroom. He eased his weapon from the holster and crept up the stairs avoiding the creaky steps he’d come to know so well. He reached the landing and keeping his back to the wall, aimed his Maglite down the barrel of his Glock. Sweeping the hallway, he moved slowly to the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. The door hung open and the stink of bleach was choking. With his back flat to the wall he aimed his flashlight inside the room and gaped in horror. A young woman, her blue lips stretched wide around something stuffed into her mouth and her skin a deathly shade of gray, sat against the wall, her eyes fixed in a death stare. Blood matted one side of her head and ligature marks crisscrossed her neck. His Maglite reflected in a pool of liquid surrounding her and as he moved the beam around the room, he noticed another wet patch on the plastic covered mattress was dripping onto the floor.
Heart threatening to tear through his ribs, he turned away and checked the second bedroom. It was empty and nothing had been disturbed. The door to the next bedroom, the room he had shared with Sandy
, was shut. He holstered his weapon, gave himself a mental shake to ease the panic threatening to overtake him, and pulled a surgical glove from his pocket. He used it to open the door and then stood to one side to turkey peek inside. The streetlight he’d once thought annoying shed an orange glow through the room, across the polished wood and over the figure of Sandy, lying motionless on the floor, her face bloody. He rushed in and fell to his knees beside her feverishly feeling for a pulse on her neck. “Sandy, come on. Open your eyes.”
Under his fingers he could feel blood pumping through her jugular, and pulled out his phone to call the paramedics. “This is Deputy Rowley. I need the paramedics, head injury, the patient is non-responsive, breathing, and five months pregnant. Yes, Sandy Rowley, my wife.” He gave the details and went back to her. “Sandy.” He brushed the hair from her face and felt the lump on her head. She was out cold.
He used his Maglite to check her, running one hand over her belly and waiting for what seemed like an eternity. His heart jumped with joy at the movement inside. As he cradled Sandy’s head in his lap, he called it in. Jenna was still in town and Kane had just arrived at the hotel so they’d be only minutes away. Relieved, he stroked Sandy’s face and her eyes fluttered. “Sandy, stay still now, you’ve hurt your head. Do you hurt anywhere? Is the baby okay?”
