Or...maybe he was still in the field, scouring the bog for any trace of her, trying to pick up her trail. Lawrence Brown had evaded capture for years, even succeeded in sending a supposed friend to jail in his place. He knew the cops would come; maybe he had a plan to give them the slip.
Maybe Ryan wouldn’t make it in time.
Her heart squeezed hard at the thought, and she forced out a tiny prayer for help. Hope. Peace. The kind of prayer spoken in groans rather than true words.
Jesus had promised to be with her always. Nothing could separate her from His love—not even Brown’s breath blowing hot against the back of her neck as he took her arm. He steered her off the path they’d been following and down a short incline. Over what looked like a narrow drainage ditch and then back up the other side.
Realization dawned on her as a dark tumbledown cabin came into view between the trees. Old man Waltman, the bog’s namesake, had built a cabin back in these woods a hundred years earlier. Rumor claimed the place had been abandoned for nearly thirty years. When she was in high school, the kids sometimes dared each other to go searching for the cabin at night, but to her knowledge, nobody ever had.
“Home sweet home,” Brown said, surveying her with a frenzied gleam in his eyes.
Nerves made her throat close, but she forced herself to breathe. “This isn’t your property.”
“Actually, it is.” He smiled. “You might call it a family inheritance.”
Was he a descendent of Waltman? Or had he finagled the land out of somebody else somewhere down the line? Laney supposed it didn’t matter. Not when he was dragging her toward the door to take her inside and kill her. The roof, sagging at one time, had been shored up with new lumber on the far end. But the cracked windows were missing glass in places and the faded exterior planking was weathered and splitting.
“Is this where you brought the others?” she asked as he pulled the solid wood door open. It rattled on the hinges. Was this the last place Jenna was alive?
“See for yourself.”
Her stomach dropped as she glanced around the dark interior. A lone chair stood in the center of the floorboards, the girl from the photograph tied to it. Her eyes were wide, and she whimpered beneath the silver duct tape covering her mouth. Dried blood curled in two sweeping arcs across each cheek.
The rest of the cabin was bare save for an empty hearth and a long table against the wall. Above it hung a collection of rusty tools—blunt-ended hammers and screwdrivers and jagged saw blades, the metal contrasting starkly against the fading yellow paint of the clapboard wall. Any one of them could be responsible for the damage she’d found on the victims’ bones.
Laney shuddered as Brown pulled the door shut behind them.
But now wasn’t the time to collapse under the weight of fear. Now was the time to bargain for that poor girl who didn’t have anything to do with this case, who had ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. The same way as Jenna.
Please, Lord, protect her. And help me be strong.
She nodded toward the woman. “Let her go. You only have one chair, and I’m the one you wanted.”
Brown smiled as his cheeks flushed, the expression all the more terrifying because of the possessive warmth in his eyes. “I’ve wanted you in this cabin since the moment I heard you were coming back, no matter what she had to say about it.”
“She?”
“My meddlesome... Never you mind.” His hand clenched, and for a moment Laney thought he might kill both her and Madison Smith. But then he dragged Laney over to the chair, stopping in front of the other victim and pulling a knife from the recesses of his pocket.
“It’s your special day,” he said, his tone almost hysterically happy. “This pretty lady has volunteered to take your place.” He cut the ropes tying her to the chair. As soon as she was free, she rose on unsteady legs, duct tape still stretched across her face.
Laney held her breath as he grabbed the girl’s arm to escort her—
Not to the front door, but to a door on the left side of the fireplace. She clenched her teeth so hard tears sprang into her eyes. Had she given herself up for nothing?
“You can wait in here,” Brown said gruffly as he shoved her into what looked like a bedroom. “Just in case Laney tries anything.”
His back was to Laney—maybe now was her best chance to escape. Ryan had to be close. They could get back here and save Madison before it was too late. The far window, with the pane partially broken out, would be the best bet. If she could get to it fast enough.
But as she took a single, hesitating step toward it, Brown turned. His expression fell, the downturned pout of his lips revoltingly childlike.
Laney froze.
“Don’t leave, Laney. I planned this all out just for you.”
Her heart lurched as he stepped toward her, his knife waving carelessly in the air. If she lunged for the window, could she make it in time?
No, not with those razor-edged shards jutting from the window frame. Even if she risked slicing her arms open, the broken part wasn’t big enough to fit through. She’d have to bust out more of the glass, and Brown wouldn’t move that slow.
She pressed her lips together and inhaled a couple of deep breaths through her nose as he held out a hand toward the now-empty chair. Ryan wouldn’t stop looking for her, even without the help of the tracker. If she could just buy him enough time, he’d find them. Brown would get the justice he deserved.
Her legs felt like wooden blocks as she shuffled to the chair, jerking away from Brown’s outstretched hand as he tried to help her sit. “Don’t touch me,” she snapped, fear tinting the anger in her tone. “You promised you’d let that girl go.”
“I haven’t broken my word...yet.” Brown’s lips tilted again as he picked the rope up off the floor, thick fingers caressing the smooth coils. He draped the rope around her arms and chest, looping it around the back of the chair, leaning in close enough that Laney could smell spiced aftershave mingled with body odor. Her nose crinkled as a chill tracked across her shoulders.
Brown smiled wider, inhaling deeply through his nose. As if he were breathing in her terror. But it was all about power with serial killers, wasn’t it? “I’ve looked forward to this moment for a long time.” He finished tying the rope and stood back, surveying her.
His words cracked through the panic buzzing in her brain, and she frowned. “Then why did you plant the bomb in my suitcase? Or the police chief’s house?”
“Not my idea.”
“What about framing Ronald Wilson? Was that your idea?”
His rough laughter echoed in the still room. “That was my sister Kathleen’s. Never knew when to mind her own business. Shame about Ron. He was our friend. Besides, that was a lot of trouble for nothin’.” He crouched in front of Laney, something manic flickering through his eyes. “I’m far more interested in other things than disposing of evidence.”
Her breath froze in her lungs as he stretched the knife toward her face and pressed the cold flat side of the blade against her skin. Fear rose like an animal inside her chest, clawing against her ribs and throat, struggling to escape. Please, Lord. Let them find me in time. And if not...
Give me strength.
“Why—” her voice cracked, and she struggled to clear it “—why did you kill the first one ten years ago? The girl on the bike?”
Brown pulled the knife back and tilted his head to one side, his eyes softening in a mockery of her emotions. “You know the answer. Don’t you, Laney?” He stared, waiting for her to say something, but Laney’s entire mouth and throat had frozen shut.
Brown’s eyes followed the rise and fall of her throat as she swallowed, struggling to get some moisture back into her mouth. Her. He’d meant to kill her.
“That’s right, Laney. I didn’t care about that other girl. You were the one I wanted, to get back at
Kim. You two biked near my house all the time. I watched every day, waiting for an opening, and when I saw you stopped on the side of the road, fixing the bike...”
“But it wasn’t me.” As if protesting now could bring Jenna back.
“No, it wasn’t.” His hard eyes glittered with cruelty. “All that time I’d waited, and it wasn’t you. But she was small and powerless, and I was angry enough to kill.” He stared down at his hands almost wistfully, apparently lost in the memory, and a shudder rippled up Laney’s back.
“Why the others?” Her voice came out in a ragged whisper.
He shrugged. Careless. “After that, I knew. I knew what if felt like to take a life. And I had to feel that power again. Kathleen tried to make me stop after Wilson went to jail, but...I can’t. And you skipped town so fast, I never got another chance with you. Until now.” A wicked smile curled his lips.
She shrank against the back of the chair, cold terror raising goose bumps on her arms. She darted her gaze across the windows, hoping to see movement flickering outside.
But there were only the fluttering of green leaves on the trees and Brown’s words drifting through her haze of fear.
“Now it’s your turn, Laney.”
EIGHTEEN
Laney closed her eyes, inhaling a shaky breath as a prayer without words flung itself up to heaven. She waited for the cold, biting press of steel against her skin.
It couldn’t end this way, not after everything she and Ryan had gone through. Not when she hadn’t gotten the chance to tell him how much she still loved him.
A loud creak sounded from behind her, and she cranked her head to the left in time to see an interior door slide open. Not the one to the room containing Madison Smith but the one on the other side of the hearth.
A gun emerged first, held at arm’s length by someone wearing a police uniform.
Officer Sarah McIntosh.
Relief cascaded through Laney until she slumped like a rag doll against the ropes tying her to the chair. Praise God.
“Freeze.” Sarah stopped ten feet away, the gun aimed at Brown’s head. No German shepherd stood at attention nearby. She must’ve broken in through a back window and had to leave Marty outside.
Did that mean Ryan and the others were outside too? Hope buoyed Laney’s chest—
Until she glanced at Lawrence Brown’s face and saw the way his lips curled.
“Sarah, what are you doin’ here?” He pointed the knife at her. “You got no business interfering.”
Laney’s mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut, glancing between them. “Sarah?”
Brown smiled again. “I believe you’ve met my daughter, Sarah Brown McIntosh.”
Sarah’s face contorted into a grimace. “I’m sorry, Laney. I really am. I never wanted you to get involved or for things to go so far. All I wanted was to scare you off before you figured out the truth.”
“You’re the bomber?” Laney could barely choke out the words. And yet it made perfect sense. Sarah would know exactly how to make a pipe bomb. How to plant the materials in someone else’s garage. And where to find Laney at nearly every given moment, thanks to her inside knowledge of the police department. “But...you were with us at his house. You never—”
“—acted like we were related?” Sarah laughed bitterly. “I’d forget the relationship entirely if his name weren’t on my birth certificate.”
“Why didn’t Ted Kincaide recognize you?” Laney pressed.
“Why would he? His ex-wife might be my aunt, but my mom kept me from this side of the family as much as possible. Jasper, remember? It wasn’t until college that I got the hare-brained notion of trying to build a relationship with my father. That was a mistake.” Her eyes narrowed at Brown.
Pity pricked at Laney’s insides. She and Sarah had more in common than she’d guessed. How would she feel if she learned her missing father was someone like Lawrence Brown? And yet...she’d never help a killer. “I still don’t understand. Why not turn him in?”
“Ha,” she scoffed. “I’d think you of all people with your junkie mom would understand? I mean, you hightailed it out of here soon as you could.” Something in her eyes shifted. “But how would you like everyone knowing your father was a serial killer? That dear old Dad had been murdering and dismembering women for a decade, and you’d been too chicken to turn him in when you first overheard him and your aunt discussing where to hide a body, so now technically you were an accomplice?” She had that wild-animal look. “How about the fact that you’d never mentioned this information to your employer or the love of your life?” Her eyes went cold. “Somehow I don’t think that would go over very well.”
Lawrence Brown flipped the knife around in his hand, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “Get lost, Sarah. You shouldn’t have interfered.”
“Drop the knife,” she insisted, inching closer with her gun still on his head.
“Or what?” Brown laughed mirthlessly. “Now you’re going to play good cop and turn me in? Isn’t it a little late for that?”
“No, it’s not,” Laney interrupted. “Sarah, it’s never too late to make the right decision.”
“Of course it’s too late,” Sarah snapped. “Don’t be naive. If you would’ve just taken the next flight out, I would’ve had more time to find a way to safely destroy those bones before they were studied. Even now, I can still try to make the evidence inadmissible in court.”
She glared at her father. “But not with you around. If you would’ve just stayed out of it and let me deal with her instead of playing your twisted games, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Brown scowled. “Your cop friends will be here any minute. Whatever you’re planning, it won’t erase the fact that they’ll know I was involved. You’ll never be free of me.”
“On the contrary...” Sarah tugged a messenger bag over her head, then lowered it gingerly to the ground a few paces from Laney’s chair. She crouched beside it and reached inside to fiddle with something. “I planted enough evidence at Kathleen’s to make sure she and Ted look guilty.”
She pulled a length of rope from her utility belt. “And there’ll be too little of you left to identify. Now get behind the chair.”
Brown held up both hands, the knife dangling loosely in one palm. “Now, surely you want to rethink this, sweetheart. Ain’t no reason you can’t let me out of this cabin before you blow it.”
“Wrong.” Sarah’s jaw clenched as she approached Brown, the gun level in one hand, the rope loose in the other. “See that bag over there? I already activated the bomb, just to make sure this mess gets cleaned up one way or another. That last cell phone detonation was too risky. This time we’re going the old-fashioned way—a timer.”
There’d be a moment where she’d have to lower her weapon to tie up Brown, and in that instant, Laney would have to do something. She had no clue what, but she wasn’t about to sit here and let someone blow her up. Or that poor college girl either.
“How many minutes?” Her voice came out as a high-pitched squeak.
“Enough for me to get out into the woods and join the search crew.” She waved the rope at Brown. “Now drop your weapon and get behind her.”
He kept the knife but circled slowly around Laney until he stood directly to her right. Sarah advanced a few more feet on Laney’s left, wedging her in the middle of their standoff. She wrapped trembling fingers around the hard edges of the wooden seat, shifting her weight ever so slightly to test the balance. The thing wobbled—not much, but it would be enough.
She hoped.
Sarah took another step closer, until Laney could’ve reached out and touched the muzzle of her gun if her arms weren’t tied. “I said drop the knife.”
Brown hesitated as if weighing his chances. Sarah was law enforcement—she couldn’t miss at this range—but Brown had that manic look in his eye again
, like a trapped animal. And Laney was caught right in between them.
Nobody breathed until Brown finally started to crouch, lowering the knife. Moving at a snail’s pace.
Sarah lifted the coiled rope. “You’re going to kneel behind that chair, and I’m going to tie your hands to it. Nice and easy, and I won’t need to shoot.”
“Sure, darlin’. Whatever you say.” Brown smirked. The same way he’d looked during the police interrogation—like he knew he was going to win.
The knife scraped across the ground as Brown crept around her. When he’d made it to the back, Laney shifted in her seat again—gently, so that hopefully neither of them would notice.
As Sarah edged closer, Laney rocked a little harder. Please, God, let this work. Keep me safe.
Brown made his move when Sarah was within leaping distance, bursting out from behind the chair and launching himself at her knees.
Laney jerked to her right with all her strength, sending the seat toppling sideways as a gunshot blasted through the confined space.
Her shoulder slammed into the wood, and she strained to keep her head from crashing down too. Sharp pain lanced up through her arm from the hand crushed beneath the seat edge, making tears spring into her eyes.
Grunts and thumps sounded from behind her, the other two fighting where she could no longer see them. The gun must’ve missed its mark. She strained against the ropes, trying to work her left arm out of the bindings.
The cabin grew still as the sounds of struggling ceased. She held her breath, waiting to see who’d won. Was it too much to hope they’d both died?
Footsteps thudded across the floor. Too heavy to be Sarah.
She tensed as Lawrence Brown walked into view. He stopped in front of her, cocking his head to one side as he dragged his knife blade across his shirt, leaving a long smear of blood. “A real pity, Laney. I never wanted to hurt her. Not my own flesh and blood. You, though...”
Buried Evidence Page 17
