Wordlessly, she placed a hand on Jeffery’s thigh. It was the first hot day of late spring, and he wore shorts. His skin was warm, and the muscles of his long legs were strong. The car shot forward, pressing Holly into her seat. Her hands began to tremble, and she shoved them under her legs.
A scream of laughter erupted from behind her. Holly turned. Another boy was draped over Sandra in the back seat and his lips were pressed to her neck.
Sandra kissed the boy on the lips, then shouted, “Come on.”
Holly waved her hands in the air, eager to join in the moment of freedom and rebellion. She let out a cry. Then the pitch of the scream rose an octave. They spun in a tight circle. Holly braced herself on the dash. A wave of smoke rolled over the car as the stink of burning rubber filled her nose.
The front fender slammed into the side of the ravine. The force of the impact carried the car up and over, again and again. Pebbles of glass pelted Holly as the windshield exploded and the roof collapsed.
Metal screeched in a primal wail as boulders gouged the top and undercarriage of the car, tearing it to shreds. Then they stopped. It was silent save for the creak, creak, creak as the car rocked gently back and forth, settling at the foot of the mountainside. The wail resumed. It was Sandra. Blood covered her face. Her hair was sticky. Her white T-shirt had turned crimson.
The seat belt squeezed Holly, making it hard to breathe and impossible to speak. She turned to Jeffery. His blue eyes gazed outward, but even then...she knew he no longer saw her. Jeffery’s neck was twisted at an unnatural angle. Holly’s heart constricted in her chest, becoming a small, hard thing.
Wetness spread over her stomach, climbing to her chest. She stared at her middle. A piece of metal protruded from her abdomen. The chrome flashed with the interior lights. Her vision began to fade at the edges, and Holly knew that being impaled was punishment for not making them stop. Oblivion continued to creep in from all sides until she saw nothing but black.
Still, the crying continued...
This time, it wasn’t Sandra in the back seat of the wrecked car. Holly was no longer a reckless teenager. She heard the sob of a child, calling her name.
“Holly, Holly, Holly.”
“Sophie,” Holly said. Her voice was a hoarse whisper.
Darcy held tight to Sophie’s wrist, pulling the child toward the door. If Holly didn’t act now, Sophie would be at the mercy of a calculating killer. What was she supposed to do? Yet, the crevasse still yawned wide beneath Holly, and it was so inviting...
Holly pressed her hand hard into her stomach. A flash of red filled her vision and she cried out with the pain. The agony was real. She focused on the anguish and it gave her strength.
With the other hand, Holly pushed off the wall. She staggered forward. “Let go of her, goddamn it!”
Darcy turned to look at Holly. “Who do you think you are to stop me?”
Holly didn’t have time to waste. She lunged forward. Darcy anticipated her move and the scissors swung down. The blade glinted in the light as it came toward Holly, missing her face by an inch. Sophie’s small overnight bag was still in the living room. Dropping to her knees, Holly dove for the child-size wheeled suitcase. It was a feeble weapon, but Holly was desperate and only had time to improvise.
Holly swung the suitcase, knocking back Darcy’s arm, the scissors connecting with nylon and plastic. With a snarl, Darcy thrust the blade forward. Using the suitcase as a shield, Holly lifted it to her chest. The blade sliced the fabric in two.
Holly needed to think, not react. A flash of memory came to her—Liam, saying that Darcy had been injured while trying to escape, shot in the shoulder weeks ago, with no medical care.
Was it the left shoulder or the right? Holly couldn’t recall. Still, the bit of information was all Holly had...and she’d use it. Holding tight with both hands, Holly marshaled all the strength she possessed. She drove forward with the suitcase, hitting Darcy in the right shoulder.
The killer screamed as she gripped her arm. Holly brought up the suitcase again. The rigid edging connected with Darcy’s chin. Her head snapped back, her skull connecting with the door at her back. Bone hit metal. A stomach-turning crunch filled the room. Darcy’s eyes rolled into her skull. Sliding slowly to the floor, her head lolled to the side.
Holly exhaled. She had fought back...and won. Someday soon, Holly would marvel at her lucky hit. Just not now. Now, she had to get Sophie out of the room.
In the midst of the melee, the little girl had scurried under the dining table. Chairs surrounded her hiding place.
Still clutching the wound in her stomach, Holly held her free hand out to Sophie. “Come here, honey. You’re safe.”
Sophie cowered in a corner as tears streamed down her cheeks. She shook her head. “No.”
Holly’s vision blurred. She closed her eyes tightly and opened them again. Hot blood from the cut to her side still filled her hand. Spots floated before her eyes. Holly was tired, so tired. She didn’t have long until consciousness slipped away, which meant she didn’t have any time to cajole a child, regardless of how frightening the circumstances.
“Sophie,” said Holly. Her voice held an edge. “I need you to come to me. We have to get out of this room. We have to get help.”
“But the bad lady.”
Holly reached her arm out farther. Her stomach burned with each breath. “We need to go now, Sophie. I don’t have much time.”
“But the bad lady,” Sophie repeated. Lifting a small finger, she pointed behind Holly.
Holly realized her miscalculation a moment too late. Slowly, she looked over her shoulder. Her insides turned cold.
Darcy stood behind her, a chair in her hand. She smiled, her teeth stained with blood. She brought the chair down on Holly’s head. Pain, a bolt of white, exploded and then, her world went black.
* * *
Liam examined the body. The gray pallor. The pliable skin. The stench beginning to set in.
In his estimation, the dude had been dead for more than twenty-four hours. It would take a medical examiner to determine the exact time and cause, but Liam knew a couple of things for certain. First, the guy hadn’t died of natural causes. That was because of the second thing he knew—the body being on the golf course wasn’t an accident.
Which meant what?
Removing the phone from his pocket, he pulled up the contacts. “Marcus,” he said as the call was answered. “There’s a problem at the resort.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“I found a body on the golf course.”
“Have you called the authorities?”
“Not yet, but they’ll be next.”
“Tell me what you see.”
“Male. Late twenties or early thirties. Sandy blond hair. Looks like the eyes are blue. I haven’t looked for any identification.”
Then again, Liam didn’t need to find the guy’s license. Even in death he recognized the man. It was Kevin. The golfer who had the date with the maid.
For Liam, all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The break-in at the infirmary. The brunette maid. The fact that Liam had felt someone watching him and yet nobody was ever there.
“She’s here,” said Liam. He turned in a slow circle, realizing that she might be watching him even now.
“Who’s here?” asked Marcus.
“Darcy Owens.”
“Are you sure? Reno PD has reported another sighting.”
“I’m positive,” said Liam.
He turned from the corpse and began sprinting down the trail. “You need to call the police, Marcus. Tell them that the body’s on the ninth hole.”
“Why not you? Where are you going?”
“Back to the resort. There’s a killer on the loose, and I left Holly and Sophie alone and unprotected.
* * *
Hol
ly was dying. She knew that.
She couldn’t breathe. Her hands were bound behind her back. A cord had been tied to a beam in the ceiling. Then a noose had been placed around Holly’s neck.
She knew without question that these were her last moments on earth. She was in a living room—a hotel room.
Her vision began to fade, the room blurred and darkened. In her mind’s eye, she saw a face. A man stood alone on a bluff. The setting sun turned his skin bronze. Holly’s chest ached, for she also knew that she loved this man.
Her thoughts returned, and she remembered every terrifying moment. Darcy. The fight. The knife. The blood. Sophie, hidden under the table. Holly had taken a blow to the head, and now, she was being hanged. Even as the last bit as oxygen flowed through her body, reviving her brain, Holly knew that there was no way to escape.
She slipped. The noose tightened on her neck as her body weight took up the slack. Looking down, she saw that her feet almost touched the ground. With an upward glance, she observed that the knot holding her in place was beginning to unravel. If she could just get the cord to loosen an inch, then she would be able to touch the floor. Thrusting her hips forward, she began to rock back and forth. The rope creaked, tightening with the motion.
Holly’s lungs burned. Every part of her body felt aflame. Slowly, her body twisted. Tears streamed down her cheeks, even though she no longer had the ability to cry. In her mind’s eye, she saw the man on the bluff again. He held out his hand to Holly. Her heart filled with love, the kind that lasted through eternity...and beyond.
Dressed in a flowing white gown, she placed her hand in his. Together, they walked toward the setting sun.
Chapter 17
Cold sweat covered Liam’s skin as he sprinted through the parking lot, up the winding drive and through the front door of the resort. He didn’t stop as he raced through the quiet lobby.
A young woman behind the reservation desk called after Liam as he passed. “Sir, can I help you? Sir, is everything all right? Do you need more towels?”
He ignored the woman while sprinting to the end of the hall. He pushed open the metal door that led to the fire exit. His footfalls echoed as he took the metal stairs two at a time. With a racing pulse, he continued upward, sweat streaming down his back.
He refused to consider that anything bad had happened to Sophie...or Holly. Yet he pushed his body harder. Faster.
The third-floor landing came into view. Liam slammed the door open with his shoulder. The carpeted hallway was silent. Wall sconces were set between each door, filling the corridor with a warm glow. To Liam, it looked like hell.
Their suite was the third door on the left. After swiping the key card over the lock, he turned the handle. Pushing the door open, he came up short.
Holly dangled from the rafters. A thin cord bit into her neck. Her body twisted, only inches from the floor. Her skin was pale. Her lips were blue.
He dove for her legs and lifted her body, taking pressure off her neck. Her skin was still warm. The cord unraveled. Holly’s torso flopped over Liam’s back. After placing her carefully on the floor, he loosened the rope at her throat, then untied her hands. He felt under her chin. There was a fluttering pulse and the whisper of a breath on her lips.
His eyes stung as a deep sense of relief washed over him. He’d arrived just in time to save her and Liam swore that he’d never let her go—not again.
There was a bruise to her cheek and her lip was split. Her knuckles were scraped. Two of her fingernails had been torn away. Blood leaked from a wound at her side. Without question, Holly had put up the fight of her life. Luckily, she’d survived. Now he needed to know what had happened.
And...where was Sophie?
Holly moaned.
“Can you hear me?” he asked, shaking her shoulders lightly.
In answer, her eyes fluttered.
“Holly, it’s me, Liam.” She gazed at him for a moment before letting her lids close again. “What happened?” he asked. “Where’s Sophie?”
Holly swallowed. “She’s gone,” she replied, her voice hoarse.
“I’m calling 911,” he said. “You need medical care.”
Holly placed her hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about me. You need to find Sophie. It was the woman who I saw by the pool. She said her name...was Claire. It was...her.” She fixed her tired stare on him. “Liam, it was Darcy.”
Of course.
“We have to save Sophie,” said Holly.
“Save her? I don’t even know where Darcy’s taken her.”
“We,” said Holly. She sat up, grimacing with the effort. “I’m coming with you.”
Up until that moment, Liam had felt alone—as if he was treading water in the middle of the ocean. To hear that Holly wanted to help his daughter was akin to being given a life raft. “I can’t ask you to put yourself at risk, not again.”
“This is as personal for me as it is for you,” Holly said. “Sophie may very well be your daughter, but I love her, too. Don’t put me on the sidelines.”
Liam didn’t want to waste any more time while his daughter was in the hands of a killer. He needed to know what Holly knew and arguing wasn’t going to help him gather any information. After getting to his feet, he held out a hand to Holly. “Come with me. I can patch you up while you talk.”
She wound her fingers through his, and he pulled her to standing. The color drained from her cheeks, leaving her creamy skin gray. She listed to the side. Liam wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her steady.
“Just breathe,” said Liam.
Holly drew in a deep breath. “Darcy took Sophie to the place where it all started,” she said. “I think she went home.”
“Las Vegas? Pleasant Pines?” With his arm still around Holly’s waist, he led her to the second bedroom. Gently, he helped her sit on the bed, stepping away to get a first-aid kit. Returning with the kit, he sat it on the bed next to Holly. “Lift your top,” he instructed.
She dutifully exposed her wound but returned to his previous comment. “She didn’t go back to either place, at least I don’t think so.”
Using an alcohol swab, he cleaned the cut to her side. “Holly, this is going to hurt. I’m sorry.” Using a pre-threaded needle from the first-aid kit, Liam placed two stitches in Holly’s side. She sucked in a breath but otherwise didn’t make a sound as he finished and then dressed the wound with a large bandage. With his ministrations done, he continued, “I thought you said Darcy went home. She used to live in Pleasant Pines and, before that, Las Vegas.”
“Las Vegas might be where she developed as a serial killer. Pleasant Pines is where her identity was discovered, but it’s not where her need to kill started. In fact, Darcy’s need to kill started in her childhood. It was like what you were saying about predators sticking to familiar ground. Then there was the drawing that I found of her home. The one with the black cloud or the storm.”
“Sure,” said Liam, starting to understand Holly’s thinking.
“She’s given that force a name—the Darkness. I think she killed someone while living in that house.” She stood. Wobbled. Straightened. “I’d bet money that’s where she’s taken Sophie. The address has to be in that box somewhere. Let’s find it.”
Liam had to admit, Holly had a point. It also meant that he needed to ask for help from everyone at RMJ. He couldn’t get his daughter back alone. “I’m calling my boss. They can get an Amber Alert out for Sophie.”
“Then what are we going to do?”
“You need to see a doctor. In fact, there’s one on-site. If I hadn’t arrived when I did, you’d be dead.”
“Yet you saved me, so forget about leaving me at the resort. I’m going to help you find Sophie.”
“I need you to be safe, Holly,” said Liam. “I also need to save my daughter. What can I say to convince you to stay at the resort and s
ee the doctor?”
“Nothing,” said Holly.
Liam expected as much. “Get changed into clean clothes. Then we’re going to track Darcy down and get my daughter back.”
* * *
Holly sat in the back of what had appeared to be a florist’s van, complete with logo and phone number on the side panel. Instead of being surrounded by bouquets and vases, she was surrounded by the best surveillance technology Rocky Mountain Justice could assemble. Several computer monitors were affixed to one wall. A bench with a hard drive, keyboard and three laptops sat beneath. A closed-circuit camera fed images from inside the resort to a split-screen monitor. The opposite wall held an arsenal of weapons—handguns, rifles, shotguns, several sets of body armor. The amount of equipment left her dizzy. Then again, Holly reasoned, she might be light-headed from the wounds to her neck and stomach.
Aside from all the gear, Holly, Marcus, Wyatt and Liam sat in front of the bench, working on a plan to catch a killer.
“We can assume that Darcy’s stolen the victim’s car,” said Liam. “It means that she’s off the premises but couldn’t have gotten much of a head start.”
“How do you figure that?” Wyatt asked.
“Holly was unconscious when I found her. But she must’ve only been out for a little bit, because I was able to rouse her pretty quickly. I’d guess less than three minutes.”
Marcus glanced at his watch, an old-school timepiece with a leather band and a gold-plated face. “We can assume that Darcy’s been gone for fifteen minutes, no more.”
“Let’s call in the FBI, the state police. Hell, call the army,” said Liam. “If she’s stolen a rental car, then there’s a GPS. She’ll be easy to find. We’ll have my daughter back ASAP.”
Wyatt held up his hand. “I want to urge discretion in all of this,” he said.
Liam slapped his palm on the worktable.
Holly flinched. There was too much testosterone contained in the tiny compartment. It left Holly wondering what—if anything—she could add.
Agent’s Mountain Rescue Page 18