by Mary Stone
She was making me lose my temper.
I stretched my arms out, swinging them back and forth to force myself to relax a little. Then I put the flip phone back up to my ear. “Then dear ole Mom bugged out on me, but you know what? That was a good thing. I got to live with Mrs. Helen, and I got to find out how the world works.”
“Linus, I was in the foster system too. I—”
“I don’t care what your damned childhood was like. You don’t know a damned thing about what I went through. I’ll bet you fifty bucks that you never worked as a janitor. You might have started out with it kinda bad, but any fool can see that you bellied up to a gravy train, li’l miss psychologist.”
I paused to see if she had the guts to interrupt me again.
She didn’t.
“When I met the Websters, I thought I finally found a real family to be part of. Not just Mrs. Helen’s shoulder to cry on. But a real dad, and a real mom, and a real friend in Gina. I was gonna go to school, make something of myself, and Gina’s dad told me he was behind me every step of the way. You know what happened next?”
“What happened next, Linus?” Her voice was softer now.
“Olivia wanted him out of the house. She wanted to kick him out of his own damned house. He was wrecked. He couldn’t even fight her, let alone help me. Guess who didn’t get invited over anymore?”
“I’m sorry, Linus.”
My throat tightened. “You know what? It wasn’t even just about how I’d lost a family that was the bad part, but what they’d done to Gina. She had nightmares all the time. All the time. She couldn’t hardly sleep. And it was only getting worse. I knew I had to do something to save her.”
That wasn’t the whole story. I had spent a lot of time planning things out ahead of time, how they might go. I’d even done a little investigating in other places, found some couples who were filing for divorce. That kind of information was so easy to find.
I needed some practice first, and I didn’t want to practice on anybody close by.
I’d practiced once, and that went okay. The second time had gotten better. By the third, it’d felt like I’d been saving kids from their parents all my life.
“Where is Gina now? Is she okay?”
Actually, I didn’t know.
After putting her in the well, I hadn’t gone back. As much as I loved her, as much as I wanted to be with her, I just couldn’t handle her right now.
Plus, after a few days down in the thinking well, she might be a little nicer to me. A little more appreciative of all the efforts I’d made for her. She might even ask me to hold her when I pulled her out. Kiss her. Make love to her.
My penis moved in my pants, but I had to ignore it.
I remembered the look on Mrs. Mathers’s face when she caught me touching myself down there. It was a sin, she’d told me as she dragged me down the cellar steps.
A sin.
A sin.
A sin.
But if Gina loved me and married me, then nothing we did together would be a sin.
We could be together forever and ever.
“Linus?”
As the geese flew over my head, I realized I was smiling. And even better, I knew what I needed to do next.
Jumping behind the wheel, I started the engine and hit the gas. I was only a couple miles away from the cabin. I’d go to Gina, pull her up from the well and ask her to be my wife.
Then, she could help me with my mission.
“Linus?”
Oh, I almost forgot. First, I needed to convince them to let go of Mrs. Helen.
“So, as I was saying, this has nothing to do with Mrs. Helen. Whatever mistakes I made, and I’m not saying that I did, are not her fault.” I had to brake to get around a sharp corner, then floored it again. “She’s got nothing to do with this, and you better let her go, if you know what’s good for you. Because the truth will come out, and if people find out that you’re holding innocent women hostage over my behavior, that won’t look good.”
I had no idea whether what they were doing was legal or not, but I figured if a lawyer could make you question yourself so bad that you’re not sure of your own name, why couldn’t I?
The phone clicked a couple of times. At first, I thought the call was being traced, but it couldn’t be—that’s why I’d bought the flip phone.
But then I realized it was just Autumn clicking a pen, over and over again. I was making her nervous. “Linus, why Gina?”
I sighed. If she wasn’t going to listen, I was just going to hang up. “I already told you, we been through the same…”
Shit. I hit the brakes, and the flip phone fell into my lap as I worked to stop the SUV.
There was a minivan parked next to the cabin. What the hell?
As I watched, a man stormed out of the cabin, a woman following right on his heels. They both looked angry, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I was too far away.
The woman grabbed the man’s shirt, and he whirled around. I couldn’t hear them, but their body language told me everything I needed to know. They were fighting.
But about what?
And why outside the cabin?
I was about to open the door and try to sneak a little bit closer when a little boy appeared. He started pulling on the woman’s coat. His mother, if I had to guess.
I froze as I watched the scene play out.
“Linus?”
The tinny sound of my name caught my attention, and I realized my phone was still in my lap. I didn’t take my eyes off the trio as I picked it up.
The woman turned on the boy, her finger in his face as she yelled at him. He cowered away, holding his little hands up to protect himself.
That was all I needed to see.
“Linus!”
As my blood heated, I lifted the phone to my ear.
“Sorry, doc. I gotta go.”
“Why? Talk to me, Linus.”
Reaching into the back seat, I pulled the knife from my bag and reached for the door handle.
“Not right now. I’ve got a mother who needs to learn a lesson.”
30
“He’s going after Emily.”
Autumn’s heart was pounding as she stared at Sheriff Carla Morton and nodded. “I think you’re right.”
Carla punched a few buttons on the phone. “Did we get him?” After a moment, she shook her head.
Winter stepped up. “Has he turned the phone off?”
Carla repeated the question to the phone company rep she was speaking with. After a moment, she gave a thumbs-up and everyone in the room relaxed just a little.
Until Autumn had begun working with Winter and the FBI, she’d always thought that burner phones were completely untraceable. That wasn’t true. Phones that only connected to a wi-fi system when used were nearly impossible to trace. For a burner that connected to a cellular tower, the phone company could ping the towers around it, then follow the signal as the user moved from tower to tower. Still not perfect, but better than nothing at all.
“They’re going to follow his location for as long as his phone is on,” Carla reported after hanging up.
Linus was smart, but he also seemed to be extremely agitated and in a hurry. That meant he could make a mistake and leave the device on. But if he powered it off and popped out the battery, they’d be searching blind again.
Winter had her own phone in her hand. “Tell me what you need us to do, Sheriff. I’ve got two agents I can scramble immediately.” She looked at her watch. “And I can have SWAT here in half an hour.”
Mike Shadley stepped up too. “What can I do?”
Autumn blinked. She’d almost forgotten her other boss was still there. He’d sent her a text message earlier letting her know that Adam Latham was on a plane back to Virginia, but she hadn’t had time to even think about that.
The sheriff pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead, clearly thinking.
From a jurisdiction standpoint, the FBI could take over an
investigation involving a serial killer, and Autumn appreciated letting Carla take the immediate lead.
Carla nodded. “Bring them all in.” She looked around for her assistant. “Laura Jane, find Emily Ashby’s address and send it to Agent Black’s phone so she can gather her men.”
Winter stepped away, and Carla turned to face Mike Shadley. “I need you to narrow down those property records. Once he’s finished with his mother, he’ll probably hole up again.”
“I’m on it.” Mike nodded and strode away.
Carla turned to Rich Brower. “Can you stay here and deal with the phone—”
“No.”
Carla blinked at the newly deputized deputy and mayor of her little town. Autumn watched her mouth tighten as she clearly considered how to respond. “But—”
“I’m going with you. I’m going to find my niece.” He took a step closer to her. “I failed her when she was fifteen years old. I refuse to fail her again.”
Carla nodded. “Then you’re with me. Laura Jane!” She hurried off to the receptionist, who looked like the least frazzled person in the room. The woman was pouring a cup of coffee while opening a filing drawer with her toe and talking to Winter, who was tapping on her phone.
A moment later, the sheriff was pointing at Autumn. “Let’s go. You ride with Black. Rich is with me. Hurry, people.”
Winter was frowning as she grabbed Autumn’s arm. “Last one in’s a rotten egg.”
Autumn didn’t need to be told twice, and she sure was glad she’d worn her sensible shoes because they hit the parking lot at a run. She jumped in the passenger seat, happy to let Winter drive.
Winter was still frowning as they streaked from the parking lot. Autumn glanced at her with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Autumn knew better than that. She reached over and wrapped her hand around her best friend’s wrist. Doubt. Fear. Those were the primary emotions that flowed through to her.
Autumn cursed under her breath. “You don’t think we’re going to make it in time, do you?”
“Hey.” Winter smacked her hand away. “No fair.”
Autumn grabbed her oh shit handle as the special agent navigated a hairpin turn doing no less than sixty.
Once the squealing of the tires subsided and the side of Autumn’s head was no longer pressed against the glass, she blew out a breath. “If I’m going to change the world for seven billion people, then I have to use every tool available in my toolbox. So…are we going to make it?”
Winter took another turn before she glanced over at Autumn. “I honestly don’t know. Something isn’t right, and I don’t know what it is.” She licked her lips. “It pisses me off that I can’t just touch somebody or something and get a vision when I want it. Nooo…my visions come at the most awkward times and slam into me like a freight train, leaving me bloody and broken.”
Autumn’s lips twisted. “Want me to punch you in the nose and see if that’ll help?”
Winter slid her a sideways look. “Are we about to have our first fight?”
Autumn laughed, but with the tension mounting inside her, the exhalation of breath didn’t help elevate any of it. “I can’t sense things the way you can, but my instincts are screaming that we need to be at Emily Ashby’s house now, now, now.”
They were already practically riding on the sheriff’s bumper, and every sphincter in Autumn’s body tightened as Winter closed the distance even more.
“Call Sheriff Morton and tell her to tell her men to go in quiet and dark.”
Rich Brower answered Carla’s phone. Autumn relayed the message and got an, “Acknowledged and out,” in return.
Autumn sighed as the screen went black. She still had so much to learn.
“What do I need to do when I get there?” she asked, her adrenaline already pumping hard.
“Keep your ass in the car.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” Winter snorted, which pissed Autumn off a little. “Do you have a gun? A vest? A radio?”
Autumn slumped down in her seat. Winter had a point.
Ahead of them, the sheriff’s blue lights went off, so did the sirens. Behind them, lights and sirens disappeared too.
They were close.
Autumn’s heart picked up speed.
They were going to get him, and then they would find Gina Webster.
They had to. They just had to.
Because she honestly didn’t know if she could live with herself if they didn’t.
Emily Ashby was in her kitchen, cleaning out her coffee pot, when the hairs prickled on the back of her neck. She turned around slowly.
There was a dark shadow in the corner. “Jonah?”
The coffee pot slipped from her hand, crashing to the floor, and exploded upon impact with the tile.
She didn’t notice.
The glass crunched under her shoe as she took a step closer to the form. Was her husband really there? Had he come back to life? Or was his ghost as sinister as his human body had once been and had decided to take its revenge?
Then another thought occurred to her. Maybe it wasn’t the father. Maybe it was the son. The son their town sheriff believed had killed a bunch of people. Was he there for her now?
“Linus?”
The shadow twisted, the shape taking a different form. Before she could take a step back, it leapt at her, and she screamed, throwing up her hands in a weak bid for some bit of protection from an opponent she couldn’t see.
It missed her. She couldn’t believe it, then she screamed again when the thing bumped against her leg. Its fur was soft and…
Fur?
Looking down at her feet, her hand went to her chest as she spotted the crazy calico cat that had nearly scared her to death.
“Peppermint Patty, you’re going to be the death of me.”
The fat kitty just purred and stroked against her leg again. Emily looked around, hoping to spot the trio of other felines that had free run of her house before they could sneak up on her too.
“Charlie Brown,” she called, shaking the container of their food. “Lucy? Schroeder? Come on, kitties, it’s time to eat.”
Cats came pouring in, each swirling around her legs and yowling for the first bite.
She sighed as she filled their bowls. She still missed Snoopy. He had been the greatest black and white cat of all time. Bone cancer took him too soon, although eighteen years old was considered elderly in a cat’s—
Thump.
Emily whirled, her adrenaline surging again. She glanced at the cats, but they hadn’t even raised their heads from their food.
They’re coming for me.
The thought made her shiver. It wasn’t Marcus. Or Linus. It was them.
No one was safe.
Lights flashed across her window. Her blackout curtains were drawn tight but apparently not tight enough.
She wasn’t Catholic, but she crossed herself anyway.
She was wrong. They weren’t just coming for her. They were here.
There was a housedress on a peg by the front door. She put it on over her real housedress. She didn’t want them to see what she was really wearing. It always made her skin creep to wear clothes that others had looked at. When she had to go out of the house for work at the gas station, she always changed her clothes at the front door.
Thump.
They would take her, she knew, so she slipped her feet into one of the pairs of shoes she kept by every door.
Would they be green? Or maybe silver? Gold?
Long and lean or short and squat?
Utilizing all of her courage, Emily pulled the curtain over a fraction. She gasped. One was running through her yard. She couldn’t tell the color, but it was tall like she thought they’d always be.
There was another. She flew to another window and peeked out and spotted a third. She was surrounded. They weren’t going to get her so easily.
Racing to the gun cabinet she kept in the li
ving room, she pulled out the loaded rifle and stuffed her pocket with a couple handfuls of shells. She also grabbed the Smith and Wesson Jonah bought her on their first Christmas together. He might have been a bastard, but he sure did have a good taste in guns.
She was ready, and she was prepared to fight to the very death.
No aliens were going to stick their probes up her bumhole. Neither she nor her raging hemorrhoid would allow it.
Tucking the pistol in her bra, she checked the chamber of the rifle as she crept to the front door. Lifting onto her toes, she peered—
Bam. Bam. Bam.
With a shriek, she stumbled backward. As she went down, her finger tensed and…
Boom!
Her ears rang as pieces of the plaster peppered down from her ceiling. She was on the floor, doing her damnedest to get her breath back after it’d been knocked out of her.
Glass crashed from somewhere, then somewhere else. The door was ripped open, then a shadow was coming in. Then another.
“Emily Ashby!”
The aliens knew her name?
She was so surprised that when the big black thing came at her she couldn’t even raise her gun again. She’d failed, and they would take her. Probe her. Study her.
And who would feed her cats?
She closed her eyes, then screamed when a hand came down on her shoulder and the rifle was ripped from her hands. The pistol hurt her breast as it was yanked from its hiding spot, but she couldn’t fight them.
“Emily! It’s me, Carla! Open your eyes.”
She did, and it was true. It was the sheriff. Looking around, she spotted half a dozen men wearing black, a couple of them holding up big ballistic shields.
It wasn’t aliens.
It was the cops.
As she lay there, feeling foolish to her core, Emily Ashby didn’t know which one was worse.
“What do you want?” She pushed away the hands that tried to offer assistance and made her own way to her own damn feet.
“Where’s Linus?”
“Hell if I know!”
Emily looked over at a black-headed woman dressed all in black. She had a jacket that said FBI, and her blue eyes looked bright as the sky.
The black-haired woman took a step closer. “I’m Special Agent Winter Black, and we need to find your son, Linus Ashby, for his protection and for the protection of others. Including you. We had intel that led us to believe he was coming here to kill you.”