by Kay Hooper
It’s what he had wanted, a man driven past his limits and emptied of everything but the memories of the pain and suffering of the victims he had not found in time, and the unbearable knowledge that he had failed.
A broken man.
A man who understood, at last, why he had been judged and was being punished.
Instead, the man he had watched enter the sheriff’s department after a successful search and rescue of Wyatt Metcalf had not seemed at all exhausted, and certainly wasn’t broken.
For a long time after the small search team had disappeared from view, he remained where he was, still. Even the media had dispersed by the time he reached into his inner coat pocket and drew out a plastic Baggie containing an envelope. Inside the envelope was the note he had written to Luke, telling him where he could find the sheriff’s body.
He took the envelope out of the bag and methodically, viciously, tore it into small pieces.
“Think you’ve won, Luke?” he muttered. “Wait. Just wait.”
“I’ve put in a request for an agent to talk to the first kidnapping victim,” Lucas said. “But I don’t expect to get much if anything beyond her original statement. She told us what she knew and then pretty much asked us to leave her alone. Understandably, she’s kept a low profile in the last year and a half, and I very much doubt she’d be willing to come down here to talk to us.”
“Not with him here,” Samantha murmured. “And who could blame her.”
Lucas nodded but didn’t look at her, and Caitlin wondered at the other woman’s twisted smile. They had an odd relationship, those two, she decided. So solidly a team during the search for Wyatt, they were now, she thought, separated by much more than the length of the conference table.
“I don’t know if she can tell us anything we don’t already know,” Lucas went on. “But she is the only one he released unharmed.”
“And I’m the only one he’s lost—so far,” Wyatt said. He frowned and looked at Samantha. “You really think the fact that he didn’t talk to me might mean something?” He was making a determined effort to at least pretend that he’d emerged from his ordeal unscathed, and everyone around him was playing along—for which he was grateful.
She shrugged. “Just struck me, is all. He’s picked Golden as his last stand, apparently, and he clearly knows the area. That means he had to spend some time here before now. If he didn’t talk to you, then maybe it’s because he was afraid you might recognize his voice.”
“But he left me for dead.”
“Yeah, but even with all his confidence, he had to know there was at least a chance you’d be found in time. And if we know anything about him, it’s that he’s careful.”
“I’ve lived here all my life,” Wyatt told her, “and I’ve met a lot of people. Talked to a lot. Residents, tourists, people just passing through. If we can’t narrow it down more than that, there isn’t a chance in hell I’ll be able to figure out who he is.”
Lucas said, “It’s a point to keep in mind, but with, as you say, no way to narrow it down, not very helpful at the moment. What baffles me is how he’s managing to get in and out of these remote places, machinery or parts to build it in tow, without leaving much if any evidence.”
“Maybe he has wings,” Wyatt grunted, just about half serious.
Jaylene spoke up to offer, “Or a hell of an ATV. And something that big and rugged gets noticed, even in these mountains.”
“I didn’t see any tracks near the mouth of the mine,” Lucas told her. “Maybe we’ll find something tomorrow morning, but if it’s the same as at every other crime scene . . .” He shook his head, adding, “And why weren’t mines on our search list? Especially after Lindsay was found at one.”
Wyatt shrugged. “Because none of them are marked on any of our maps, probably. Haven’t been for decades. Virtually all the old mines in this county have been closed for so long that most of us have forgotten about them.
“Thing is, people have been digging in these mountains for generations. Gold, emeralds, whatever else there is or was. Lot of defunct mines up there that companies shut down when the veins petered out. And that’s not even counting amateur efforts or natural caverns. Plus old cellars and other shelters hacked out of the granite during the last century or two and left abandoned. A big part of this county is federal land now, but it wasn’t always.”
“In other words,” Lucas said grimly, “we’ve got a wilderness full of countless places where he could hold a hostage.”
Wyatt lifted his brows slightly. “I take it you expect him to grab somebody else?”
“Until we’ve got our hands on him, it’s a given.”
The sheriff sighed. “Great. Well, what you said pretty much sums it up. Hell of a lot of land and not many ways of narrowing down the list of places to search. We might be able to find out who owns various remote parcels, but there’s nothing to say he’s even tied to them in any legal sense. From what we’ve seen so far, it looks like he’s just taking advantage of places nobody’s made use of in so many years most of us have forgotten there was anything useful there.”
“Which,” Caitlin said, “is another point in favor of what Sam said. That he’s been here long enough to know the area very, very well.”
Wyatt frowned very slightly as he looked at her. “Not that I’m complaining, but are you sure you want to stay involved in all this?”
A bit self-conscious, she shrugged. “Might as well. I mean, if it’s okay with you. I don’t know that I can help, but it sure beats hours alone in that motel room.”
Jaylene spoke up again to say, “Ask me, we can use all the help we can get. But I vote we start fresh tomorrow morning. It’s been a very long day.”
“I’ll second that,” Wyatt said. “Not that I plan to go home tonight, but the couch in my office is very comfortable, and it won’t be the first time I’ve slept there.”
None of the others probed for his reasons, simply accepting that a man who had faced his own death a few hours previously might not want to return to an empty apartment and spend the night alone. Better here, with people about and the pulse of life going on all night.
After a quick glance at her partner, Jaylene said to Caitlin, “I’ll take you back to the motel. Maybe we can stop on the way and have dinner somewhere.”
Caitlin nodded, but said to Lucas, “Am I still being guarded?”
He nodded immediately. “I think you should be, Caitlin. If he’s been watching, he knows you’re involved now.”
Unnerved, she said, “You think he’s been watching us? You mean—today?”
“I’d be surprised if he wasn’t somewhere nearby when the search teams returned. He’d have wanted firsthand confirmation of just how successful this move was.”
“But, still, why would he target me?” she demanded.
Samantha said, “I’m betting you’re an unknown factor to him, and that’s got to make him uneasy. He’d expect the cops and feds to be involved in a search, and he already knows about me, but you? Not only a civilian, but the grieving sister of a previous victim, so what are you doing with a search team?”
“He has to wonder,” Lucas agreed. “And with a mind as twisted as his, wondering about anything could make him even more dangerous. So I think we’re better safe than sorry, don’t you?”
Caitlin sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks.”
“If you’d rather stay somewhere else—”
She shook her head, getting to her feet as Jaylene rose. “No, the motel is fine. Hell, maybe Lindsay will be in touch again.” She eyed Wyatt, then smiled. “Or maybe she used all her ectoplasm or whatever to help save your sorry ass.”
Soberly, Wyatt said, “I’ll do my best to make it mean something.”
“I was kidding. Lindsay was too smart and too stubborn to waste her time, believe me.” Without waiting for a response, Caitlin lifted a hand in farewell and left the room with Jaylene.
To Lucas, Wyatt said, “Do you seriously believe she could be in
danger?”
“I seriously do. Bringing you out of one of his killing machines alive just upped the stakes; I don’t expect him to wait long before he makes another move. If we openly keep watch on Caitlin, at least we serve notice that we know he’s still out there, and still a danger.”
Wyatt didn’t question that, just nodded and said, “I’ll go reassign the watchdogs. And I’m going to send one of my people for takeout. That steak I mentioned earlier. You two want anything?”
“I need to get back to the carnival,” Samantha said.
Lucas looked at her briefly, then said to the sheriff, “We’ll get something on the way. But thanks.”
“Okay. See you in the morning.” Wyatt paused in the doorway to frown back at them. “Did I say thank you, by the way?”
“In your own way,” Samantha murmured.
He grinned at her for the first time, and said firmly, “Thanks for getting to me in time. Both of you.”
“Don’t mention it,” Lucas said.
When they were alone in the room, Samantha didn’t wait for the silence to lengthen, as she suspected it would.
“Shall we talk about this, or is it your plan to give me the silent treatment for the duration?”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Sam.”
“Sorry, but that’s not good enough. Not this time.”
He turned in his chair to look at her, the length of the table a more-than-symbolic space between them. “It’s been a long day and we’re both tired. I hope you aren’t planning on reading at the carnival tonight.”
Deliberately, she said, “If I have a choice between reading strangers or being in that motel room for the next twelve hours or so with your anger between us, I’ll take the carnival.”
“I’m not angry.”
“No, you’re furious. I got too close again, this time emotionally. Tell me about Bryan, Luke.”
He got to his feet, face closed. “We should stop on the way and get something to eat. You haven’t eaten in hours.”
“Neither have you.” Samantha rose to her feet as well, conscious of weariness and a distant pain she didn’t want to acknowledge. She followed Lucas from the room, and not even several rather awkward attempts from some of the deputies to thank her as they passed through the building could rouse more than a fleeting smile.
She had known there would be a steep price demanded of her for this. Bishop had tried to warn her.
“He’s been obsessed too long, Samantha, and he won’t thank you for trying to dig that out of him.”
Understatement, Samantha thought now. By the time this was over, Luke might well hate her.
For all her determination, she didn’t know how to deal with that possibility. She couldn’t stop pushing him, not for long; that had been the plan from the beginning. No matter what it did to her, to them, she was convinced it was the only way to get at the inner pain driving Luke.
And that was the only way to save him.
The cell phone in the pocket of his vest vibrated a summons, and Galen answered it without taking the binoculars from his eyes.
“Yeah.”
“What’s happening?” Bishop asked.
“Not a whole hell of a lot, at the moment. They stopped at a steak place for supper, and now they’re at the carnival. In Sam’s booth. She must still be getting ready; there’s a line forming, but Ellis hasn’t let anybody in yet.”
“I just tried to call Quentin and couldn’t reach him. Where is he?”
“Playing Daniel Boone. He managed to take a look at the mine before the deputies Luke assigned to watch the place got there. Now he’s trying to backtrack and find out which way the bastard got his little toy in there.” Galen shifted position slightly, adding, “Probably not surprising you couldn’t raise him on the cell; wild country up there.”
“And dark, with only a quarter moon. What does Quentin think he can find?”
“You’d have to ask him. All he told me was that his spider sense was tingling.” Once Galen would have used that phrase sardonically, but he had been a member of the team too long not to have learned that—comic-book terminology notwithstanding—the enhanced senses of some of the SCU members were both accurate and often surprisingly prescient.
“If you hear from him, keep me advised. And especially if you don’t hear from him. I don’t want any of you alone or out of touch for too long.”
“Copy that. He should be reporting in any time now.”
“How’s Luke holding up?”
“Judging by what I could see, Sam was able to make him mad enough so that he’d find Sheriff Metcalf. They’re both looking a little ragged, though. Hard to say whether her plan is working as well as she’d hoped, but whatever else it’s doing, it’s obviously a strain on them.”
“And she’s reading tonight?”
“Looks like. Whatever’s going on between her and Luke, I think she believes this killer is a regular visitor to the carnival. And maybe she’s right. He does like games.”
Bishop was silent for a moment, then said, “You’re still keeping an eye on Jaylene whenever she’s alone?”
“Of course. Right now, she’s with Caitlin Graham, so deputies are watching them both. As soon as Quentin gets back, he’ll take over here and I’ll make sure Jay’s covered.” He paused as his binoculars swept the carnival grounds slowly, then returned to Madam Zarina’s booth.
“She spotted you, you know.”
“Who, Jay?” Galen chuckled. “I must be slipping.”
“That’s what I told her.”
“She’s not mad at having a watchdog, is she?”
“No. She knows anyone close to Luke is a possible target. This killer has abducted two police officers; I doubt he’d hesitate to grab a federal agent.”
“No, he has balls enough for just about anything, if you ask me. And right about now, I’m betting he’s pissed as hell.”
“I’ll take that bet,” Bishop said. “Question is, what’s his next move?”
15
The reporter, eyes shifting uneasily, backed out of Samantha’s booth, muttering, “That’s okay, I think I got my money’s worth.”
Lucas immediately came out from the curtained-off area in back, took one look at Samantha, and handed her his handkerchief. As Ellis stepped into the booth, brows lifted, he said to her, “That’s enough. Tell them she’s done for the night.”
Holding the handkerchief to her sluggishly bleeding nose, Samantha said, “Bastard beats his wife.”
Ellis shook her head. “Maybe you can alert the sheriff.”
“He’s an out-of-towner, dammit.”
Shaking her head once again, Ellis went back outside to offer rain checks to those still waiting to see Madam Zarina.
“Sam—”
Heading off whatever he’d been about to say, Samantha said, “It’s only when I sense violence of some kind that this happens.”
“Maybe, but it’s something new for you, Sam, something unusual. And that makes it a danger sign.” He didn’t sound particularly worried about it, merely matter-of-fact.
Samantha yanked off the turban and set it on the table before her, her gaze fixed on his face. “Okay, so fix it so I don’t have to keep doing this. Find him.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, don’t you think we’ve been trying?” Despite his words, his voice was still calm, his face expressionless.
“The cops, yes. The feds, yes. You? Well, you’ve been looking at maps and lists and autopsy reports and compiling profiles. You even climbed half a mountain today. But you weren’t trying to find him, you were running behind him trying to find his victims. The way you’ve been doing for the past year and a half.”
“Don’t do this, Sam.”
“Why not?” She refolded the handkerchief and dabbed at the last of the blood, looking away from him at last to watch what she was doing. “You’re going to despise me by the time this is done anyway, so I might as well get everything I have to say said and out into the open.”<
br />
“This is not the time or the place—”
“This is the only place we have, Luke, and time’s running out. Or hadn’t you noticed? You won one today, remember? You beat the bastard. And we both know he is not going to be gracious in defeat. He’ll be on to the next move, probably already. Selecting his next victim, if he or she wasn’t already chosen long before now. Getting one of his remaining killing machines all polished up and ready.”
Lucas drew a breath and said steadily, “It’s nearly ten. Why don’t you get changed and take off the makeup, and we’ll get out of here.”
“You can find him, you know.”
“Sam, please.”
“He feeds on fear, Luke. If what I saw when I touched that pendant is true, he’s been feeding on fear for a long, long time. It’s all inside him. You can feel that. All you have to do is tap in.”
“I’ll wait for you outside.” He left the booth.
Samantha gazed after him for a long moment, then got to her feet and went into the curtained-off area in back. She changed out of her Madam Zarina getup and creamed away all the makeup, thinking as she studied her face in the mirror that there was less and less difference, these days, between the aged face of Madam Zarina and her own.
Moving more slowly than was usual for her, she neatly put away her makeup and other supplies, finished clearing up the space, and then went outside the booth to join Luke.
Looking at the bright, noisy carnival all around them, she said absently, “I wonder if he’s here? Watching us. I wonder what it is about this place that fascinates him.”
“You,” Lucas said.
Before she could respond to that, Leo appeared, to say worriedly, “Sam, Ellis told me about the nosebleed. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
“I’m taking her back to the motel,” Lucas said.
“Try to get her to sleep late, will you?” Leo asked. “And, Sam, no reading tomorrow night. In fact, no carnival. I’ve already posted the notice that we’ll be closed tomorrow night.”
