“You’re crazy.”
“Thanks. Hold this.” He draped his coat over her arm and climbed through the open window.
“No!” Luke screamed, drawing attention from people on the street below. “Don’t drag me back in there. I said I don’t want to go. You can’t make me go!”
“Easy, cowboy.” Mason moved slowly. “Nobody’s making you go anywhere. We’re just going to talk, okay?” He turned and sat on the tiles, worried they might not hold his weight. He gazed out across the skyline to avoid looking down.
“She’s…” Luke settled back down. “She isn’t a nice lady.”
“No?”
“Not like Diane. She’s really kind.”
Mason lowered his guard and looked down. Feeling queasy, he looked away. “Yes, she is. She’s also very good at puzzles. Do you like puzzles?”
Luke shrugged. “I don’t know any.”
“You don’t? What about riddles?” This was a technique he’d been taught on a course once. If you could distract from the real problem, you can then talk them into something reasonable. Mason hoped it would work.
“I know one.”
“Yeah? Tell me.”
“What gets wet as it dries?”
Mason knew the answer but wanted to see the boy’s face when he felt as though he’d bamboozled someone. “A boat? Something like that?”
“No.” Luke laughed, the frown replaced by a gap-toothed smile. “A towel!”
“Ahh.” Mason smiled now, surprised it wasn’t at all forced. “Very clever, kid. Very clever. So, look, why don’t we go inside and have something to eat? You can tell me some more riddles, and we can relax.”
Luke looked down. “Will you make me go back there?”
“I won’t make you do anything.”
“Then… okay.”
“Good boy.”
Mason got to his feet in a low crouch, balancing on the tiles. As he reached out for Luke’s hand, a tile gave way, sliding down the roof and plummeting to the street below. Luke lost his balance, clawing and scrambling to regain it. But that only made things worse. More and more tiles slipped out from under him, and in the blink of an eye, he was falling.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Bill Harvey thought himself a competent detective. He didn’t quite have the skills Mason had, but the bare essentials were there. The point was, Bill was a good cop, and that had to be enough.
He’d been following Ben in his car, though Ben was walking. It made for some difficult tailing, but if Ben should later drive anywhere, then Bill would need to pursue him. It took forty minutes before Ben reached his home and went inside.
What are you up to? Bill sat across the street with the engine shut off. He’d hoped Ben would lead him straight to Wendell. What they would do with an exact location they didn’t yet know, but it would be useful to have if anything went wrong.
A half hour passed before Ben emerged from the house, fully clothed now, and got into his car. Bill waited until he was a good distance away and then followed him across the city. Sometime later, they stopped in the parking lot of a closed hardware store.
Bill again watched from a distance.
At first Ben remained in his car. It wasn’t until another car parked alongside him that things became a little more interesting. The other driver—a woman, presumably Alison—got out of the car, and they talked while sitting on her hood.
Bill took out his phone and used the zoom on its camera to see a little clearer. He took a couple of snaps, though that was more a force of habit. He only wished he could hear what they were saying.
After a few minutes, Ben got in the car with Alison, leaving his own vehicle behind. Bill stalked behind them as close as he could, driving out of town and toward the woods. Isn’t this where Mason said the cabin is? He hoped so, as it was a chance to find out what they were up to.
They were soon on an isolated, dark stretch of road. It didn’t look good for Bill, whose lights shone bright and were no doubt drawing their attention. All the same, he did his best to stay out of sight.
The woman’s car suddenly sped up, zipping down the road and out of sight.
Panicking, Bill stomped on the pedal and followed, but by the time he reached the bend there was no other car in sight. He slowed to a stop, opened the door, and stood outside for a better look.
But he saw nothing, the only sounds a chirping in the trees and the steady grumble of his car’s engine.
Bill had lost the trail.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Mason’s hand gripped the boy’s wrist and he was dragged down the roof, more tiles crashing to the ground down below.
Luke was screaming his head off, his face cherry red as he begged to be saved.
The gutter dug into Mason’s ribs as he used his entire body to keep from falling. “Hold on, kid. I’ve got you. You’re all right.” He used what little strength he had left to pull the boy up, but his palm was sweaty and his arm slid out.
Mason continued to pull, despite his loosening grip, until he could clutch Luke’s shirt in his hand, giving him something better to pull him up by. He held him tight, desperate not to let him go. “You’re okay.” Mason glanced at Diane through the window, her mouth open and her fingers digging into the white paint of the window frame. “Take Diane’s hand.”
Still sobbing, Luke inched forward and reached out to her. Without hesitation, Diane took him and pulled him through the window. Mason was still climbing in when he heard her scolding him.
“Don’t you ever do that again. You’re so young and have so much to live for.” She knelt in front of the trembling boy, brushing his hair with her fingers.
“He’s fine,” Mason said, hiding his own jitters. This was the second time in a year he’d almost fallen to his death because of a Wendell. This family needs serious help.
On the couch, a cell phone rang out merrily. It was Billy Joel’s “Uptown Girl.” It took Mason a second to realize it was Ben’s phone. He’d taken it as a means of keeping in touch with Alison.
“Yes?” Mason said, before moving through to the kitchen.
“It was nice of you to have me followed,” Alison said.
“Well, I wouldn’t want you to get away now.”
“Don’t try anything like that again. Have you forgotten that dear Evelyn is in my possession? Perhaps I should punish her for your betrayal. What do you think of that? Should I cut her, like you cut Marvin?”
Mason’s pulse quickened. His mouth went dry.
“Does she even need both her eyes? Or both her hands?”
“All right, you’ve made your point.”
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Alison said, seizing control. “I’m going to hang up, and you’re going to stay put until I tell you where to meet. If you call me, Evelyn will die. Trust me on that. If you hurt my son, Evelyn will die. If you act out in any way—”
“I said you’ve made your point,” Mason snapped.
“Good. Then I trust you understand who’s in charge here.”
And just like that, the line went dead.
Chapter Seventy
It wasn’t long after that call that Bill returned, a solemn look on his face. Mason let him in, and they went to Evie’s room to share their progress.
“It’s not looking good,” Bill told him. “I got as far as Friar’s Hill, following the road out before I lost them. You say you found a cabin out there?”
“Yes.” Mason figured that was where they were headed. “But we can’t risk another trip. Not with Evie there. Besides, Alison called and said we have to wait for her to get in touch.”
“And you’re going to obey?”
“She was pretty explicit about her instruction.” Mason went to the window and drew the blind. Now he looked around the place, he didn’t like the idea of Evie coming home to a messy room. He moved a couple of her pillows and began making her bed.
“And then what? A simple exchange?” Bill asked, leaning against the wall an
d stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I don’t think it’ll be that easy, pal.”
“Neither do I.”
Bill exhaled through puffed cheeks, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “We could always put a wire on the kid.”
Mason stopped fussing. “What?”
“I mean, if you handed her son back and had him wired, she might slip up and admit to the murders. It’s risky, but if she says something to prove her guilt before she finds the wire, a police team could sweep in.”
Mason slumped onto the bed, undoing his handiwork. “The police would actually have to be on our side for that to work. It’s all well and good that you can go free, but I’m a wanted man. Unless…”
Bill stood up straight. “Captain Cox is quite understanding. We could give this a go. Best case scenario; Alison Wendell slips up and gets taken down. Evie will go free and hopefully unharmed. Your name will be cleared, and all will be good with the world.”
“And if it goes horribly wrong?”
Bill looked down at his fidgeting hands. “Worst case scenario, she mentions what you—what we—did to her brother, and we serve time, Wendell goes free, and Evie might not make it. What other options do we have, buddy?”
Mason tried to imagine both scenarios playing out. Only the bad outcome seemed likely, but Bill was right. What could he do, if not that? “Go home, Bill. Be with your wife. I’ll need to mull this one over. I’ll be in touch.”
“You gonna be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Give my love to Christine.”
Mason closed the door behind him and poured himself a stiff drink.
Chapter Seventy-One
Evie shook in horror at the gory mess around the room.
Annabelle, her cellmate and new friend, had put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger. Evie’s ears were still ringing as she looked at the girl’s body, slumped over the table, her chains fallen slack.
“Do you see now?” Lady Luck said, holding her head up by her hair. “It’s all about choice. She had a choice—herself or her friend. She chose herself. That’s her loss. Mason also had a choice. He didn’t have to do that to my brother. There were other ways.”
“You’re sick.” Evie felt ready to throw up. She tried not to make eye contact with the other girls at the table, who were breaking down into tears of their own.
There was a man in the room, too, but he didn’t seem to be a prisoner. He wore suit pants and a pressed blue shirt. All he did was sit still and watch in silence.
“I’m sick?” Lady shoved her against the wall, clamping Evie’s jaw in a viselike grip. “It’s your brother who’s sick. The things he did to poor Marvin. You should understand something: Mason is a worthless sack of shit.”
Evie struggled against her tight palm. “He still caught your brother—”
The other hand came out like a whip, lashing at her head and smacking it back toward the wall. Thump. “Why is your family so self-important? What’s so hard to understand?”
Her words became a jumble—slurred and echoing. Evie’s head was throbbing, her stomach churning. She wanted to heave, crawl into bed, and sleep until all this was over. But she knew that wasn’t an option.
Finally, Lady let go and made her way out the room. “I have somewhere else to be. Take her back to her cell,” she said to the man. “Clean up this mess, and then get ready for the next lot.”
As he rose from the chair, Evie’s weak knees buckled. She crashed to the ground, crying. And even with her eyes closed, all she could see was the body of her new friend—her eyes still wide with shock at the bullet in her skull.
Chapter Seventy-Two
First thing in the morning, right after Alison Wendell had made her call, Bill waited at the basketball courts with a steaming coffee in hand. Even as he watched the players, he could feel the countdown above his head, ticking like a bomb ready to explode.
“What’s this about?” said a woman arriving at his side.
Bill turned to see Captain Cox. She was well dressed, as usual, and sunglasses hid her eyes. “I know a few things about these murders.”
“Lady Luck?”
“Yes. Will you hear me out?”
Cox removed her glasses and cleaned them with a wipe. “Make it quick.”
Bill took a deep breath. “I know who she is.”
“Excuse me?”
“Listen, she’s Marvin Wendell’s sister. We don’t know what she wants with Mason, but he’s clearly the target. And if you give him a chance to prove this, I’m sure he’ll come in quietly.” Bill knew this whole plan was jeopardizing his own freedom. After all, he’d had a pretty big hand in ditching Marvin’s body. But this situation needed clearing, and he would do it, even if it killed him.
Captain Cox slid her glasses back on and pushed them up her nose. She blew out a ragged breath and said, “Detective, Mason Black has avoided custody. He’s a suspect, as far as I’m concerned. Anything he has to say can go on the record.”
Bill looked down at his shoes. “I was afraid you’d say that.” He waved a hand above his head. A car came from out of nowhere and screeched to a halt alongside them. Bill took out his sidearm and aimed it at Captain Cox. “Get in the car, Captain.”
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Just do it.”
Staring daggers from her wide eyes, the captain climbed in. She must have seen Mason in the driver’s seat then, as she shouted, “Oh, for God’s sake.”
Bill got in beside her and closed the door.
None of them said a word until they had parked down a quiet street. There was nothing but abandoned buildings down here—a refuge for junkies and squatters. It was ideal—nobody around here to keep an eye on them.
“So, what now?” Cox said. “I’m a hostage?”
Mason shut off the engine and turned in his seat. “You’re not a hostage. I need to talk with you, and then you’re free to go. But you need to hear me out.”
Cox sighed. “I’m listening.”
“I’m an innocent man,” Mason began. “This Lady Luck—Alison Wendell—has my sister. She’s been gone for a few days now. But I have Wendell’s son. All I want is—”
“Wait. What?”
“You heard me. I’ve been summoned to make an exchange this afternoon. I want to put a wire on the boy. With any luck, she’ll make an arrogant mistake and open up about her crimes, giving you a chance to move in. Which would clear my name.”
“Mason, that’s ridiculous.” Cox removed her sunglasses once more and rubbed her eyes. “You’re a prime suspect in a murder case. You think you can take the police captain into your car and beg for a second chance? At gunpoint, no less.”
Mason shifted in his seat. “You know me, Captain. How many years did we work together?” He groaned, holding his temples. “Look, I’m going to come in quietly either way. What I wanted was the opportunity to lock up the right person.”
“And what makes you think she’ll talk about her crimes in front of her son?”
“She won’t.” Mason swapped a glance with Bill. “She’ll be gloating in front of me.”
“To you?”
“I doubt it’ll be a simple exchange. This whole thing is about me, for whatever reason. She’ll take me with her, and I can weed a confession out of her.”
Captain Cox huffed, fidgeting with her hands until she looked up. “And what if you don’t get that confession? What if she doesn’t want anything to do with you after she has her son back?”
“Then I’ll turn myself in. You have my word.”
Cox snickered, rolling her eyes. “Jesus Christ.”
“I’m not kidding.” Mason got out of the car and walked around to her door. Opening it, he stood back and allowed her to exit the vehicle. “So, what’s it going to be?”
Chapter Seventy-Three
Mason sat in the room adjacent to his old office. Policemen surrounded him, each with their own individual roles. Captain Cox, however, sat across the desk doing n
othing but gawping at him with her arms folded.
“The kid’s here.” Mason finished scribbling down Evie’s address and slid the paper across the desk. “You’ll meet a lady called Diane. Explain the situation, and then leave her alone. She has no idea what’s happening, and is just doing me a favor.”
“If you say so.” Cox took the paper and handed it to an officer, mumbling instructions to him. He left the room in a hurry. She turned back to Mason. “Here’s the paperwork for the deal. It states you have twelve supervised hours to provide us with proof. Any attempt to run will be interpreted as a confession of guilt. If you fail to meet the terms within the given time, you’ll be put on trial. Is that understood?”
Mason signed at the bottom. “Absolutely.” He was nervous now, but he wasn’t prepared to show it. There was always a chance Alison would find the wire, leaving him in the middle of the danger zone with no escape rope. But if it meant getting Evie back unharmed—no matter how slim a chance—he would take it.
“Stand, please,” an officer said from behind.
Knowing the drill, Mason stood and removed his jacket and shirt. He placed them on the back of the seat and stood with his arms held out like wings. The officer worked around him, securing the wire to his chest with tape. It wasn’t until they were eye to eye that Mason saw it was the man he’d pulled from the car wreck.
“How’s the head?” Mason asked, though he could see it was bruised—it would probably scar, too.
“It hurts like hell. But my wife isn’t a widow because of you. When this is all over, if you’re not locked up, I’d like to buy you a drink to say thanks.”
Mason nodded. “I might just take you up on that.”
The wire was secured, and Captain Cox stood. “Everyone leave us alone for a moment.” Her voice had always carried such authority. It was no wonder she’d come so far in her career in only a few short years.
Mason & Morgan- The Serial Killer Collection Page 30