A car.
Mason ran to the door and saw Ben sitting inside his small black car, making his way down the drive. Mason had parked across the end of the driveway, blocking out any exit (guilty parties had a tendency to run, Mason had learned, and so this had become a habit).
Leaving the car running, Ben got out and sprinted off the property, heading up the road bare-footed. Mason took after him, yelling, “Don’t you move, Ben! You’re only making this harder!”
“Fuck off!” Ben barked back, disappearing around the corner.
Considering this man was guilty enough to run, and he was now out of sight, Mason felt both relief and fear at the same time—he’d found a lead, but from the looks of it, he was also about to lose him.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Alison Wendell knew how much trouble she was in.
She’d headed out with the intention of earning a few bucks and maybe having a little fun. But now, as she power-walked over to the parlor, she realized how badly everything was sliding out of control.
Roger the pervert had treated her as nothing more than an object to fuck. It was what made him the perfect candidate for a little game of Slice and Dice. Alison could have even made it out of there with a big profit. Now, they had her purse.
Big mistake, Lady. Big, big mistake.
Heading to the parlor to pick up her son, she went to open the door and noticed the lock had been busted, setting alarm bells ringing in her mind. Maybe she’d just shut it too hard when she’d left? Leaving the lights on, she grabbed her suitcase from under the desk and headed upstairs. She could pack, grab Luke, and get him somewhere safe before the police arrived at her door. And as for that prick Mason Black? She could always come back into town to deal with him later. Maybe I’ll just let his sister rot in that basement.
Alison stomped up the stairs and went straight to the bedroom. She opened the closet and grabbed a handful of her favorite things, giving little thought to what she’d need. “Luke, honey, we need to leave,” she called between the rooms. “Go get a small bag of clothes and meet me downstairs in five minutes.”
It wasn’t until after a full minute of cramming as much as she could into the case that she noticed the silence. “Luke?” Alison felt a stab of fear, like when you know something is wrong but try telling yourself otherwise. She searched the rooms one by one, ending at the living room where she’d left him. “Luke!” she screamed, trying each room again, this time checking under the beds and behind the curtains.
Gone.
Alison stood in the doorway, chewing on white knuckles. She had a pretty good idea where her son might be. Adrenaline and sheer hatred merged together to ignite a fire in her blood. Okay, Lady. Plan of action… She tried to breathe but felt nothing but panic.
A minute or two went by. Fuck it, she thought as she punched chips of brittle wood off the doorframe. Her teeth were grinding, but she barely noticed.
If Mason wants to play, I’ll play.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Mason reached the corner, skidding to slow down before bursting back into full speed. Ben was in sight now, but for a fat businessman, Mason thought, this guy can really move!
Mason sprinted along the street, praying he wouldn’t pass any police officers on the way but aware they must be out in force keeping an eye out for him. But he couldn’t let it stop him. Ben was his last chance to find Wendell.
He ran into a store, and Mason followed.
Inside, a large crowd of people were late-night shopping. Customers stopped and stared as the desperate manhunt continued around them. Mason pushed through, shouting for them to get out the way and shoving them aside. Ben was in full view up ahead, tipping over a large clothes rack to block his path.
Mason leapt over it, following him through to the back. He burst through the door and into a dark alleyway. He was sweating underneath his coat—not through lack of fitness, but in fear of losing his contact. He stopped and listened.
But there was neither sight nor sound.
Goddamnit. Mason clenched his fists. Okay, left or right? He had to choose. He began to choose right and was just passing a dumpster when he heard a rustle behind him.
Mason turned to see Ben climbing out from behind a stack of damp cardboard boxes. He dashed down the alley, and Mason set off in pursuit. He wanted to stop, to draw his gun and fire, but he couldn’t risk hitting a civilian. Not only that, but someone was sure to call the police.
Luck, as careless and unsporting as it had been, finally turned in Mason’s favor.
Ben reached the end of the alley and emerged onto the street. As if from nowhere, a bicycle struck his hip, knocking him to the ground. The cyclist went head over heels and landed with a thud on his back. He scrambled to his feet, swore at Ben, and stormed off with a buckled bicycle.
Mason stood in shock a moment before jogging to catch up. “Stay down,” he said.
Ben raised his hands to his face, as if expecting violence. “I did nothing wrong.”
“Then why did you run?”
He was shaking, crying, begging like a coward. “I just— She promised me things. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.”
“Who got hurt, Ben?” People were staring at them now, and the police would soon be notified. “Tell me, right now!”
“No, I—” Ben stopped, his eyes following Mason’s down to his side.
“What is that?”
“What?”
Mason stooped and picked up the cell phone. It must have fallen from Ben’s pocket as the bike collided with him. “Don’t move,” he said, turning his attention to the screen.
That was when his heart skipped a beat. It was as if he had been hit by the bike, knocking the wind right out of him. A message sent from the phone, and addressed to somebody named Alison, read simply: Mason is here.
“I… please,” Ben begged.
Mason dropped the phone and glared at him. “What have you done?”
Chapter Sixty-Four
Lady Luck opened the cell and stormed inside.
“Stay away,” Evie said, but by then Lady had grabbed her by the hair.
“You can thank that brother of yours,” Lady said as she dragged her into the table area. “If he would only have stayed away, there was a chance you might have come out of this alive. But no, he had to push his luck, didn’t he?”
Evie fought to gain some balance, but she was being pulled too fast, her heels only scooping dirt from under her feet and failing to find any grip. “I don’t know what my brother does. I have no idea what he did, but he’s just trying to help me.”
“No.” Lady shoved her onto the table, which other girls sat around in chairs.
Evie felt hands on her—the other prisoners, making sure she was all right.
“He was already in the red,” Lady continued, pulling out a gun and pointing it at her. “What I’m doing here is serving justice. Mason has no right to cause me any more grief. Now it’s two points for him and none for me. How do you think that feels, Evelyn? How do you think that makes me feel?”
Evie sat up, her body tense. “What are you talking about?”
“Drop the act, girl. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“I really don’t. Look”—she inched off the table, her hands in front of her—“if Mason’s done something to hurt you, maybe you should just tell him. He’s a reasonable guy. We can all work together to make things right.”
A tear seeped from Lady’s eye, rolling down her cheek. She stepped back, pulling back the hammer on the gun. “You say it like it’s easy. As if any of you can bring people back from the dead.”
Did Mason hurt a friend of hers? Evie lowered her arms. Any sudden movements might suggest aggression—always a bad idea when the other person had a gun. “What do you mean?”
Lady Luck stared, her mouth hanging open. “You really don’t know?”
“No.”
She sniffled. “Your brother is a murderer.”
“What? There’s no way tha
t’s true. That’s insane!” Evie knew everything there was to know about Mason, and he was no killer… or was he?
“No—he’s insane. My brother died because Mason thought it was the right thing to do. But he was a sweet man, my brother. He was the victim. Why can’t people understand that?”
“I don’t—”
“Was it Mason who gave my brother his name?” Lady rushed forward, pressing the barrel to Evie’s forehead. “Was it Mason who named him the Lullaby Killer, like some disgusting creature who kills for sport?”
Evie was stunned. A wave of heat flushed over her as pieces of the puzzle slid together. The moment she realized this woman was Marvin Wendell’s sister, Evie thought back to the night he’d gotten away. How easily Mason had backed off after losing his adversary in the woods. “But… Marvin is alive. He got away.”
“Is that what he told you?”
Sickness swelled in Evie’s stomach. To think Mason was a murderer was like admitting she’d been related to a total stranger. That her brother—her best friend—had not only killed a human being, but had lied to her face about it. “I didn’t know.”
“Well, you know now. And that bastard has my son.”
Murder and kidnapping? Evie felt lost. “It’s true I knew none of this…” Evie paused. “But what I do know is this: if you kill me, you’ll never see your son again. Mason is a very stubborn man, and he doesn’t like to be wronged.”
Lady just grunted.
“Now, if you keep me alive, at least you have something to negotiate with, right?”
“I guess. But I don’t just want my little boy back.” Lady grabbed Evie by the throat, spitting through clenched teeth. “I want him to suffer—to feel every little bit of pain he can before he dies. I’m not going to kill you, Evelyn. Not yet. But when Mason comes begging for his life, I’m going to show you what his actions have cost him… and that starts with you.”
Chapter Sixty-Five
Mason’s knuckles cracked against the man’s jaw, bringing him to full attention.
“Please,” Ben whimpered. He was tied to the chair in a small room with a concrete floor. It was Bill’s parking garage, but they hadn’t told Ben that. “I don’t know anything.”
“You already said that.” Mason crouched to meet his eyes. “But that was before you sent her a text message. So, I’m going to ask you one last time: where is she?”
Ben’s eyes shot between Bill, who was sitting with his arms folded against the washing machine, and Mason, who was stretching his fingers out in preparation for another right hook. “I don’t know where she is, but—”
“No more excuses.” Mason lunged forward.
“But I can contact her!”
It was enough to make Mason pause. His fist held Ben’s vest in a clump but loosened as he thought, Good. Maybe we can use him. “And what exactly might that achieve?”
Ben was sweating buckets. Every time he shook his head—which was often—tiny droplets sprayed off him in every direction. Some of it mixed with blood, which trickled from his nose and mouth like red streams. “You can strike a deal.”
Bill shot Mason a look as he came to Ben’s side. “What kind of deal?”
“I-I don’t know! Something like giving yourself up in exchange for her son.”
Mason gave him a backhand, causing a heavy slapping sound—skin against wet skin. “How’d you know we had her son, huh? We sure as hell didn’t tell you.”
“Alison did. She called me just before I ran from you. And… she has your sister. Alive! But I didn’t have anything to do with that. I swear!”
Mason’s breath caught in his throat. Until now, he’d been too scared to ask if she’d been harmed yet. To hear she was safe shifted a weight from his heavy heart. “You think she would trade?”
Ben lowered his eyes and shook his head. “It’s hard to say. I mean, she probably would, but it wouldn’t be the end of it. She has a real problem with you. A big, big problem.”
Tell me about it, Mason thought. “Bill, can I speak with you for a moment?”
They went to the far end of the garage and whispered.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Bill said. “But can we trust her?”
“Not for a second. She’s a killer. Killer’s don’t change.”
“So, do you want to make an offer to exchange?”
The decision was far from easy. Having Evie back would be the best thing to happen in a long time. But in doing so, he’d be letting a killer loose. Besides, who was to say Wendell wouldn’t get her son to safety, then start all over again? “Do you have anywhere else to be tonight?”
Bill shook his head. “No.”
“Good.” Mason scuffed back over to Ben, who looked as though he was awaiting a jury’s decision. “All right. Let’s get her on the phone.”
Chapter Sixty-Six
The phone rang in sync with his heartbeat. Loud and fast. The last time he felt like this was back with Marvin Wendell. It was happening all over again, and he only had himself to blame.
“Ben,” Alison said, taking the call.
“Guess again, sweetheart.” Mason kept his eyes level with Bill’s.
Silence. And then, “What did you do to Ben?”
“Ben’s fine. A little beat up, but he’s fine. What did you do to Evie?”
“Your sister is fine. For now.”
Every word that came from Mason’s mouth could make or break the entire plan. He chose them with great care. “Good. Then we can still come to some arrangement.”
“Let me guess—you want to trade Luke for Evelyn?” Alison sighed. Then she heard a metallic clanging on the other end of the line. “He’d better not be hurt, you son of a bitch. If he has so much as a scratch on him, I will fucking end you. Do you underst—”
Mason ended the call right there. Bill looked at him as if he wanted to protest, and Ben sat without uttering a word. The truth was, he had no more control of the situation than Alison did, but if he could make it look as if he were in charge, he could get what he wanted.
The phone rang. Mason smiled and answered.
“Don’t you dare hang up on me!”
“I don’t do well with threats. Do you want to make a transaction or not?”
Alison exhaled. “Why should I trust you?”
“I have your son.”
“I have your sister.”
“And we’re back around that circle.” Mason paced the room. “Look, you seem to think I murdered your brother in cold blood. He was a killer, Alison. He took my daughter, he hurt her. Not to mention the countless children he harmed.”
“Don’t lecture me, Mason. I know my brother better than you ever did. Sure, he had problems, but he didn’t deserve the ending you gave him. Prison, fine, but not a slow and painful death like he suffered.”
How much does she know? Mason looked at Bill and stopped walking around the garage. “If you say so. Do we have a deal or not?”
The phone went quiet for what felt like forever. Mason found himself pacing again. It was like a quiz show, when they leave you hanging to find out if you’ve become rich or not. Only this time, Evie’s life was on the line.
“I’ll give it some thought. But let me make one thing clear.” Alison’s voice rose in a hot flush of anger. “If you try anything funny, I’ll carve up your sister in the most agonizing detail. And I won’t stop there—the police will receive all the footage I secured of your little deed, and the location of where you buried my brother. That is the only—”
“Great. You can reach me on this phone.” Mason ended the call. He didn’t expect a call back and liked to imagine the look on her face right now. Getting down to business, he took Bill to the corner of the room, hushing to a whisper.
“What are we going to do?” Bill asked.
“Let him go. Can you follow him?”
“Sure. What about you?”
“I have to get back to Diane.”
“All right. Good luck.” Bill began to move, w
hen Mason grabbed his arm.
“Don’t lose him.”
Chapter Sixty-Seven
This is an interesting turn of events, Mason thought as he took the last few steps toward Evie’s apartment. Now that he’d secured an ounce of power with her son, Alison would have no choice but to hand over Evie. It wouldn’t be the end of their problems—not by a long shot—but it was a start.
When he got to the door, a panic-stricken Diane pulled it open.
“Come in,” she said, a bead of sweat rolling down her temple. “Quick.”
What the hell? Mason followed her in and closed the door behind him, immediately noticing the boy’s absence. “Where’s Luke?”
“That’s the problem.” Diane wrung her hands together and went to the window. “He’s out on the roof and refuses to come back in.”
“What the hell’s he doing out there?” Mason rushed to the open window and poked his head through, looking left and then right. Diane hadn’t exaggerated—Luke was sitting on the tiles near the edge of the roof. Only his foot wedged against the guttering held him in place.
“I tried to get him back inside, but he’s frightened,” Diane said from behind.
“Of falling?”
“Of going back to his mom.”
Mason wondered what kind of relationship those two shared. Maybe sending him back was not the best idea. No child deserved to be brought up around psychopathic killers and prostitutes. But he couldn’t let him die, either. “Luke, this is silly, buddy.”
Luke looked at Mason with bloodshot eyes. “Please don’t make me go back to her.”
“I won’t,” Mason lied. “Just come back inside.”
“No. You’ll take me back there.”
Mason took a deep breath and let it out nice and slow. Next he removed his coat.
“What’re you doing?” Diane asked, her forehead creasing up.
“I’m going out there.”
Mason & Morgan- The Serial Killer Collection Page 29