The Only Girl Left Alive: The McClintock-Carter Crime Thriller Series: Book Three

by Susan Lund

  At that point, Tess became worried that she'd made a big mistake.

  She followed the road, keeping far enough behind the vehicle ahead of her that the driver couldn't see her. Finally, the road ended in a small clearing and there, parked by a shack, was the vehicle she'd seen earlier. She stopped, slamming on her brakes, and then sat for a moment, her heart rate speeding.

  Whoever it was, they had left the vehicle and were now inside the shack. From the light of the full moon, she could just make out what looked like a solar panel on a stand beside the shack. There were no lights on in the shack, so whoever it was inside was being careful.

  She reversed her car down the road until she saw a small side lane about five hundred feet from the shack. She backed into it and parked her vehicle a few dozen feet from the road. She turned off the car and left it, walking back towards the shack, stopping in the woods beside the building.

  Was it Eugene? If so, what was he doing out here so far from civilization?

  Then she heard what sounded like crying. It was clearly a girl's muffled voice.

  She also heard a man's lower voice rise up over the sound of the other voice, like he was admonishing the girl.

  Then the man left the shack, and hopped back into his vehicle, driving off with a spray of dirt from his tires like he was angry. He was wearing night vision goggles. Tess ducked down behind a bush, hoping he didn't have infrared lenses as well, and couldn't see her heat signature or that of her vehicle parked down the street. Whoever he was—and she was pretty sure it was either Eugene or the girl's father—he drove off and disappeared around the bend in the road.

  Tess ran to the shack and tried the doorknob, expecting it to be locked, but it wasn't. She entered and took a moment to orient herself in the darkness. There was a light on somewhere beneath the floor, a sliver of light seeping up through the floorboards. The interior was small, just eight by ten feet at most, with some boxes in one corner, a bank of batteries, and some wiring that ran down to a room below the floor. On the wall—a crossbow. An area rug was rolled up beside a hole in the floor. Tess bent over the edge of the hole in the floor and glanced down.

  What she saw shocked the hell out of her. A girl was tied, hands and feet, to the frame of a single bed, a gag around her mouth, her clothing stained. Beside her sat a small electric lantern, which cast a harsh white light on the room. A strong odor of urine and feces wafted up.

  The poor girl had soiled herself. If it was the girl from Roslyn, Elena, she'd been missing for over four days. Had she been down here all that time? Was the man who brought her here her father? Or Eugene? Tess was confused, but she knew what she had to do.

  She had to climb down and rescue the girl before the man came back.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Julia's mom arrived Tuesday just after two thirty in the afternoon, a day early. She had cut her visit with her sister short and taken the next flight back to Tacoma. Michael had been getting the boys supper when the call came in saying she would arrive soon.

  Michael watched as her car drove up to the house and got out, dressed in a puffy black winter coat, her characteristic black horn-rimmed glasses giving her a harsh look, her hair a bright silver and carefully coiffed. She was the family matriarch and had the demeanor of a military commander. In other words, when Betty was around, she took over and everyone stepped out of her way.

  Michael opened the door and greeted her with a quick peck on the cheek, taking her bags and setting them down in the hallway while Betty removed her coat and boots.

  "I'll stay with the boys tonight. You can go back to Seattle now."

  "I'm staying in Paradise Hill for Thanksgiving with my family," he said, somewhat angry at how she assumed he would just up and leave.

  "Wherever," she said and waved at him, like she was shushing him or moving him out of her way. "Where are the boys?"

  "They're in the living room watching television. We were just going to go up and see Julia."

  "You leave that to me. I'll take them up. You can go."

  Michael shook his head, but he realized that he was no longer the one in control. Betty was in the room, and she was the boss.

  "There's my boys," she said and went to where Nate sat, a Nintendo controller in his hand. She kissed each boy on the top of his head. "How about the three of us go to see your mom? Then we can get some McDonalds."

  "What about Dad?" Nate asked, craning his neck to see Michael.

  Michael shrugged, like he was helpless.

  "He's going back to Paradise Hill to be with his family on Thanksgiving,” Betty replied firmly.

  "How come Dad's not having Thanksgiving with us?" Connor asked, his eyes glued to the flatscreen where he was playing a game.

  "He gets you for Christmas, so your mom gets you for Thanksgiving. The three of us will do something special on Thursday. I'll cook a turkey and we can take a plate of food up to your mother. And some pumpkin pie with ice cream. How does that sound?"

  The boys perked up at that, but they were still sad.

  Michael checked the Greyhound bus schedule and saw that there was a bus leaving at 3:45 and arriving at 10:40 in Ellensburg. It was late but it would mean he’d be home a day earlier. He could get a taxi home so Tess wouldn’t have to go out that late.

  Michael texted Tess, to let her know he’d be in at 10:40 but would take a taxi home. Then, he called a taxi to take him to the Greyhound bus terminal, and then got ready to leave, his bag hastily packed and his laptop stuffed in his briefcase. After he slipped on his jacket and boots, the boys came over to the door to see him off.

  "It was good to spend some time with you, both of you," he said to Nate and Connor, hugging and kissing them both. "I'll be back next weekend for a visit. We can go to the waterslides at the hotel. How does that sound?"

  "Good," Nate said.

  Michael ruffled Connor's hair. "How about you? You want to go to the waterslides?"

  "Yeah," Connor said and smiled. "Can we order pizza like we did the last time?"

  "We sure can."

  He waved goodbye and left the house. He was upset that he'd lost a whole day with the boys, but if Betty was there, she was going to have her way, and her way did not involve him.

  He'd learned that pretty quickly after he and Julia had married. Luckily, Julia had been with him in Seattle and Betty was in Tacoma, so she had only meddled on weekends when they visited. But now, with Julia living in Tacoma with the boys, Betty was a constant presence. She was a control freak, and Julia was only too happy to let her take over whenever she was present.

  It was good for Julia to have her mom to help with the boys, but Michael had had his mind set on seeing the boys for another day. Still, he couldn't fight it without looking like he was ungrateful for her help.

  He wasn't.

  The bus left Tacoma on time and Michael was eager to see Tess again and immerse himself back in the cases. Now that Daryl had committed suicide, the police would close the cases that were clearly tied to him and John Hammond, but that left all the missing girls and unidentified remains that could still be part of the case. Plus, there was the issue of Eugene's involvement, if any.

  He got a text from Tess, about a half hour in.

  TESS: Nonsense. I’ll pick you up at the station. See you at 10:40.

  MICHAEL: Okay. See you at 10:40.

  As the hours passed, he read over his notes on his laptop and the profile he’d drawn up of the serial killer who was involved in at least some of the murders and disappearances.

  He felt guilty considering Eugene as a suspect, because of his friendship with Chief Hammond, but he had to follow the evidence and his gut. His gut said Eugene was involved in some way. Had he been part of the child porn ring operating out of John Hammond's old service station? It wasn't impossible that Eugene had been involved, but it was far more likely that it had been John Hammond. Plus, there were the weekends he had been away on personal business, according to what Kirsten told Tess. Who knew how m
any, or which weekends? They'd have to talk to Kirsten about that, and Michael knew that would raise a bunch of questions he wasn't sure he was ready to answer.

  Such as, why was Eugene now a possible suspect?

  While every adult male had been considered a potential suspect when Lisa had gone missing, and the same for Zoe and Melissa, Eugene's nose was just too clean for him to be a serious suspect. Plus, there were no direct links between him and any of the girls. No family ties or friendships. There were actual sex offenders to consider who lived in Paradise Hill or neighboring towns, and they were always the first suspects after family and close friends.

  Strangers were usually last on the list of suspects, just because most children were abducted and abused by those known to them.

  Michael arrived in Ellensburg at 10: 38, a few minutes early and was eager to see Tess.

  MICHAEL: I’m here. Did you decide to stay home?

  She didn’t respond. He called her cell. There was no answer.

  He called his mother. “Hey, is Tess there? She was going to pick me up at th Greyhound station in Ellensburg, but she’s not here and she’s not answering her phone.

  “I was out playing bridge and just got back. I assumed she was on her way. Maybe she couldn’t answer because she was driving?”

  “She usually plugs her cell into the USB, and it connects to the car’s Bluetooth system so she could answer.”

  “Oh, dear. That doesn’t sound good. Do you suppose she’s had car trouble?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll wait here another ten minutes, but then I’m catching a cab. I should be home in forty minutes either way.”

  “Call me and let me know.”

  “I will,” he said and hung up, a knot of concern in his gut.

  Tess should have been there.

  He texted her again.

  MICHAEL: Hey, I'm back. Where are you?

  There was no reply, so he called again, but the cell rang and rang, finally going to her voicemail. He left a message, and then called his mom again.

  She answered right away.

  "Tess isn’t answering her cell so I’m on my way home."

  "Her phone’s here. She must have left it when she went out."

  Michael exhaled in frustration. “Where is she?”

  "She'll be along soon. You’ll probably pass her on the way.”

  “I'll be leaving in ten minutes."

  "I'll see you when you get home."

  Michael ended the call and went to the phone that was meant to call a local taxi. While he waited, he kept checking his cell, but now, she was twenty minutes late.

  He tried not to get too worried, despite the knot in his gut telling him to do just that. He checked the tracker on his cell, and there she was. According to the GPS tracker, she was currently northwest of Keechelus Lake.

  Her location was the middle of nowhere.

  He got in the taxi and decided to call Chief Joe.

  The chief answered on the second ring.

  "What's up, Michael? What can I do for you?"

  "I know you'll think this is crazy, but for some reason, Tess went up to Keechelus Lake area. I think she's in trouble. Could you send someone to follow me up there? I'm on my way there now."

  "She's at Keechelus Lake?" Chief Joe said, his voice sounding confused. "What on earth would she be doing up there at this time of night?"

  "We were talking about getting a cabin up in the mountains together for holidays, but I don't think she'd be up there checking anything out so late especially since she was supposed to pick me up here in Ellensburg. She left a note to say she was going to pick up some coffee earlier tonight, but her GPS tracker shows she's at Keechelus Lake."

  "Doesn't make sense," Chief Joe said. "I'll get one of my patrol officers to meet you up there. Give me a few minutes and someone will be on their way."

  "Thanks, Chief. I’m on my way there now. Just tell the officer to follow the road as far as it can go. It may be nothing, but she could be in danger. She was attacked and so was I. I don't want to risk it, just in case."

  He spoke with the cab driver, who agreed to take the detour.

  Then he called his mother again.

  "Mom, did Tess say anything to you about going to a cabin near Keechelus Lake? Has she been looking at cabins while I was away?"

  "She mentioned something about you two finding a place and doing some fishing before the end of the season, but I doubt she would go there at night."

  "My thoughts exactly," he said. "She's not answering her texts or her cell, so I'm worried. Chief Hammond is sending a patrol car up there to meet me and check things out. I'm on my way there now. I should be there in about twenty minutes."

  "Let me know what happens," his mom said, concern clear in her voice.

  "I will," Michael replied, trying to dampen his concern. He had to shut off his emotions and treat this as a police action—not as a personal matter. "I'll call you as soon as I find out what's going on."

  He asked the taxi driver to drive as fast as he could and within fifteen minutes, he was turning off the secondary highway and on his way up a side road that led to the location of Tess's GPS fob.

  They finally arrived at the location indicated on the GPS map, but he didn't see Tess's vehicle anywhere. The road ended, and down a rough lane that was almost overgrown with brush, there was an old cabin beside a grove of trees. He got out of the taxi, walking up the lane and checking out the cabin.

  Behind it, hidden from the driveway and under a tarp, was a car.

  Tess's rental.

  He opened the door and there, on the driver's seat, was the fob.

  It was clear that someone had driven the car here and parked it, leaving the fob there on purpose.

  In that moment, Michael knew as sure as he lived and breathed that it was Eugene.

  It could have been someone else—some man in his late thirties or early forties, employed in a blue-collar job, possibly married or recently divorced, but who did a lot of driving for his job, was frequently out of town, and who blended in.

  But he was certain it was Eugene Hammond, born Eugene Kincaid.

  Michael's scummy brother-in-law—a man he'd never liked, who had always set off Michael's alarm bells.

  And he had Tess.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Eugene could barely wait to leave town and drive to the cabin for his nightly visit to little Elena.

  First, he had to drop by and see Chief Joe, listen to him discuss Daryl's suicide, and how the FBI were going to wrap up the cold cases. He stopped at the local burger joint and picked up the usual cheeseburger, onion rings, and chocolate shake, and then drove to the station.

  He said hello to Doreen, and then went right into Chief Joe's office. The old man was on the phone and nodded to Eugene when he closed the door behind him and held out the bag of food.

  Chief Joe pointed to the chair and Eugene took a seat, plopping the bag on the desk and removing the burgers and rings.

  He could see the old man's mouth practically water at the sight of the burger.

  Yeah, old man. Eat up. Let all that fat gunk up your pipes.

  While Chief Joe spoke on the phone, Eugene thought about little Elena, waiting for him up in the shack. He was getting ready to end the little honeymoon they'd been enjoying together. He knew that the longer he kept her, the more risk he was taking that someone would notice his nightly trips out of town to visit her at the shack, but he was having too much fun to stop so soon.

  He decided this would be the last night he'd spend with her. He'd finish the job, then find a good place to hide her body. Since Dear Old Dad Daryl had done himself in, Eugene couldn't enjoy the pleasure of seeing him go to the maximum-security pen at Walla Walla, so he had to at least take pleasure in his kills. It would have to do for a few months, when he could take another girl and keep up his twice-yearly cull.

  When Chief Joe finished his call, he hung up the receiver and reached for the chocolate shake, his eyes pr
actically bulging out.

  "I thought I'd bring you supper, since you're working late."

  "You know the way to a man's heart is through his stomach," the old man said with a laugh. He pulled on the straw and grabbed an onion ring, chowing down without waiting.

  "So, I still can’t get over the fact that my biological father hung himself in his cell," Eugene said, careful not to betray his elation that the rotten bastard was dead.

  "That he did," Chief Joe said, before shoving the cheeseburger into his yap. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment and then took another pull at the shake. "What did you two talk about?”

  “We talked about John Hammond and the porn room under his shop, but that’s it.”

  “I guess he saw the writing on the wall and didn't like what it said about his future. Can't say as I blame him. He would have been found guilty as hell and would be on death row for a dozen or more years before the end. Not much to look forward to."

  "What's with John Hammond and Daryl? Killing themselves?"

  Chief Joe shrugged. "Lots of men their age kill themselves. Things start to fall apart really fast after fifty, especially if you're single. It's not much of a life for a fifty-something man with no prospects. You get erectile dysfunction, your back goes out, you lose your sight and get grey hair. To get convicted of murder on top of all that and face the death penalty? Helluva way to go. I might be inclined to off myself, too, if it was me."

  Chief Joe finished off the burger and chewed with an expression of contentment. He was pretty satisfied with his life at fifty-eight. Good job, devoted wife, perfect son. Well, maybe not so perfect…

  "So, I guess that wraps up the cases—will the FBI be leaving?"

  Chief Joe sipped his shake. "They'll be next week. Prosecutors will wrap things up after the long weekend and there'll be a report written that closes the cases officially and that’ll take a while, but the feds will leave soon. There are still a lot of missing girls, and unidentified remains that Michael Carter thinks might be linked, but the FBI’s finished with the Hammonds’ residence and business, as well as Ron McClintock's place. So, they'll be leaving, and as much as I admire and respect them, I'll be glad to get back to normal around here. Bar fights, speeding tickets, domestic disputes, theft. Stuff we can deal with on our own without federal interference."