The first thing to note was that the location was perfect. The police would see it coming from a mile off, but Arthur would see them too—the road behind him twisted onto a bend where his family had died, but on the other end was a long stretch of road that led into the city. Around him there was nothing but rocks. He was here for one reason, and for one reason only.
Here was here to kill.
It was a shame he’d had to wait this long. After hauling Cooper Kelley out of his home, he’d had to lie low overnight. Most of the cops in the city were looking for him, and how long would it be until the FBI took an interest in him? Although he’d disagree with the technicalities of it, he was probably seen as a serial killer by now, and that meant country-wide recognition. This wasn’t like the nineties, he realized, which meant he would easily be recognized on the street. The long-term effects of that didn’t bother him—he had huge plans to set into motion when this was over—but for now it was difficult to move around under the radar, which was the only thing he needed.
There was just enough time to kill.
Arthur took one long, last breath of deep morning air and then traipsed over to “the spot.” As he drew nearer, the memories of his past came back to haunt him. His wife had loved him as fiercely as he’d loved her, and the child they’d had together was growing up to be so smart, happy, and full of life. She’d always been so inquisitive, eager to learn and share her joy and knowledge with the rest of the world. Arthur reminded himself, as he took another long swig of his vodka, that he would never get to see those delicate features again. These people had taken that from him, and with that, they’d taken everything else in his life with it. What confused him the most was how people were surprised that he’d begun plotting his revenge. Was it not normal to want balance for such a thing? When the justice system had betrayed him, he’d been given no other option than to embark on this path himself. He’d been forced into a corner—turned into a killer by the same system that was supposed to avenge his family. It was like one final mockery, one final stab to the gut, twisting his insides with sharp, agonizing pain.
It was supposed to be this way.
While a single, warm tear spilled onto his cheek, Arthur poured an honorary drink onto the ground and then hurled the bottle into the nearby rocks. As he heard it smash, he wiped his eye with his sleeve and then made his way back to the car. But instead of returning to the driver’s seat, he hit a button on the fob and popped open the trunk where his victim lay bound and gagged.
“I hope you’re ready, because in just a few minutes your time’s up.” Arthur got one last look at those desperate, pleading eyes and then slammed the trunk shut again. Without a minute to spare, he climbed back into the car and turned it around on the narrow road before heading up to where it wound like a small mountain path. The last time he’d come here his life had changed forever, and today, as soon as he was done here, he would make one more drastic alteration before he finally packed it all in.
But first, Cooper Kelley had to die.
Chapter Forty-One
Morgan snapped to alertness in the warmth of his own bed, but he couldn’t stay there. He knew what to do, and it was so obvious now. He wasted no time in leaping to his feet. His legs wobbled until he regained his balance and hurried into his clothes, ignoring the ritual of brushing his teeth. This had to be acted on, and fast.
Within minutes he was in the car, wishing he’d had a chance to kiss Rachel goodbye. When it came to moments like this, he never knew when might be the last time they’d see each other, and if that wasn’t enough to make him rethink his career, then he didn’t know what was. All he could do was push it to the back of his mind while he sped out of the driveway and zoomed down the road toward Gary’s house, calling him while he drove.
It went to voicemail.
“Damnit,” Morgan said, throwing his phone into the passenger seat. He concentrated on driving, every stop and turn feeling stiff and sluggish. Every second counted, and the higher the sun rose, the more he was certain Cooper Kelley had already been killed.
It was a horrible thought that he put aside for now.
The second Morgan stopped at the end of Gary’s drive, he was out of the car and pounding on the front door. He kept thumping, no longer caring what time of day it was and praying Gary hadn’t left for work. For now, this was between the two of them, and that wasn’t going to change until they’d talked it through. At least a little bit.
Eventually, Gary popped open the door and stared at him through grim, half-open eyes. His hair was a mess above the robe that hung open, pajama pants and plain shirt revealed to the world. “There better be a good reason you just woke up the entire neighborhood.”
Morgan shoved past and heard Gary close the door. There was no time for games or pleasantries—his long sentence confined to the bed had taken enough time, and although it’d given him the time to think, he wished the answers had come sooner. “I know where Cooper Kelley is.”
“What?”
“When I was passing out the other night, I heard Arthur St. John talk about the place it all began. I didn’t think anything of it until I woke up this morning, but I think it might help us find them.”
“Where it all began is—”
“The place his family was killed. The crash site.”
“It seems a little too obvious, don’t you think?”
Morgan shook his head, sweat dripping from it. “Not at all. Think about it: his family was driven off the road by a whole bunch of people. Years later he comes back and starts killing them all in cars. People like him… I mean, it seems like poetic justice, doesn’t it? To end on a high at the one place which stands out as the most life changing of all?”
“But Cooper isn’t the last survivor. What about Tom?”
“Who knows if he’ll come back for him? At the moment this is all we’ve got.”
Gary exhaled, giving an exaggerated blow while scratching his scalp. His eyes perused the floor, rolling up the wall until he tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling with his mouth wide open. “Ugh… it’s a long shot, but we can check it out. We’ll have to do it fast too. Do you know the exact location? I can drive us there if you—”
“We need the cops on this one.”
His head snapped back, and they locked eyes. “You’re sure?”
There was nothing he was more certain of. Morgan nodded, now far beyond the petty idea of vigilante justice. It was no longer about him, or even about Dusty: Cooper Kelley’s life hung in the balance—if he wasn’t already dead—and that was all that mattered. “Listen, after what happened with the DC Carver, I know better than to hang around and wait for everything to tie up in a neat little bow.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I’m going over there.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“As a heart attack.” Morgan knew it was a dumb move, but anything he could do to stall would be helpful. “My car’s parked outside. I’m going to head over there and see what I can do. I want you to get in touch with a backup team and send them over as soon as you can. How long do you think it’ll take?”
Gary grabbed his coat off the rack and replaced the robe he wore, snapping the collar to stand it up around his neck. “Not long. A few minutes at most. Look, if you’re sure about this, then just be careful. We won’t be far behind you, but you’re not invincible.”
“I know that,” Morgan said, but he thought back to his last encounter with Arthur St. John. Morgan was no athlete, but he’d gotten away with not being knocked around, and he’d even done pretty well in catching up with the killer. Until that final moment, anyway. Still, it told him that Arthur was a dangerous man to those who’d ruined his life, but to everyone else? He didn’t know if he was capable of hurting an innocent. After all, his murders seemed to be out of a sense of duty to his loved ones. He hadn’t been killing for fun. “Just be quick with that backup, okay? Anything could happen in the meantime.”
“They won’t take long. Don’t worry.”
Together, they ran outside and got into their cars. Morgan fired up the engine and sped away, while Gary disappeared from sight behind him. He was probably calling for backup, Morgan figured—and hoped, considering he was now completely alone, racing toward a killer and his next victim.
And that was the one thing that stood stubbornly in the forefront of his mind: there was no way to know for sure if Cooper had been killed yet. Hell, there was even a chance that they had the wrong place altogether—this could all have been one intricate ploy to lead them in one direction while Arthur headed off in another. All Morgan could do was steady his breathing while he made the journey, hoping beyond hope that he didn’t arrive to find a dead body.
If so, he would never be able to forgive himself; he was supposed to protect Cooper, and so far he’d done nothing but fail in that, the same way he’d failed to look after Dusty. It was all coming full circle, and the last thing he wanted was to make the same mistake twice, letting yet another innocent man die because of one tragic accident.
An accident that had ruined a man.
Morgan drove on, forcing these thoughts aside.
It was all he could do not to scream until his lungs gave out.
Chapter Forty-Two
He’d parked right where his family had died, on a part of the road that overlooked a fifty-foot drop onto a strip of highway. Ten years ago, he’d rolled down that hill, terrified for his life and the lives of those he loved. Arthur remembered hanging upside down, panting, letting his brain catch up with what happened before finally turning, turning to see…
“It’s time to get out.”
Arthur reached deep into the trunk and grabbed Cooper by his sweater. He dug his nails in and hauled with all his might, dragging his wiggling body onto the ground with a thud and then pulling him toward the driver’s side door. Cooper made noises under the thin rag he’d used for a gag, but Arthur ignored it and proceeded to lift him into the seat. There was no reason he should take pity on the guy now—his family hadn’t been given that mercy, so why should he? This was a necessary course of action.
While his victim continued to protest, Arthur St. John kept in mind that he had a gun in his pocket. That, he’d gotten from a street merchant who sold more than just CDs and DVDs. In the other he had a knife, which he was far more willing to use. He pulled it out and showed the blade to Cooper, twisting it under the sunlight that now beamed off the sharp edge. “I don’t want to cut you, but if you don’t stop making this so difficult, I’ll have to.”
Cooper silenced then, tears streaming down his cheeks as Arthur closed the door and returned to the trunk where he took out a roll of duct tape. There’d been no time to find more handcuffs—at least not ones that couldn’t be traced back to him—so this had to suffice. It didn’t matter much to him anyway. His work was nearly done.
Shutting the trunk, Arthur climbed into the passenger seat and leaned over, forcing Cooper’s hands onto the wheel. He looped the roll in circles, tightening the bond until he was certain those hands were going nowhere. When that was done, he started to get out of the car to check his alignment with the rocks below, but a singular thought stopped him.
Arthur hesitated, then turned and took out the blade.
Cooper’s eyes widened and he shook his head frantically from side to side.
“Don’t move,” Arthur told him, gripping Cooper’s jaw between a thumb and forefinger. Pinning him down, he swiped the knife, slashing a thin slit of tape between the guy’s lips. He watched him shake, sucking up air through the newly formed hole. It was pathetic. “Do you know why this is happening to you?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Then you’ll know there’s no getting out of this.”
“Please…”
“Spare me your begging.” Arthur rolled his eyes and sat back, looking out over the dashboard, where normal, everyday life continued without him. Cars traveled down the road below, some heading into the city, while others headed out. He wondered where those people were going. Were they starting new lives? Making a long commute to work? Perhaps some of them were traveling to see friends, he thought. They were all normal things. Arthur remembered when his life had been normal. Before all this. Before the agony. “You know, Tom Walker did a shitty job of covering for you. As soon as I had him, he gave your name up really easily.”
Cooper’s breathing was hard and unsteady, his chest rising and falling under his thin, gaunt face. He looked away, sobbing while he gazed out onto the road, probably looking for some kind of rescue party that wasn’t going to come.
“See, after everything you did, you still can’t look me in the eye.”
In a flash, Cooper turned and looked. “I’m sorry, okay? It was an accident!”
“Accidents like that don’t happen around here.”
“But it did. Y-You talk as if we didn’t all lose something. We got hurt too, you know. Look, I’m sorry about what happened to your family—I really am—but it’s not like we got into that car knowing it would happen. Please, just let me go and I’ll find a way to make it up to you. Whatever I can do to make amends, just tell me and we can—”
“You think you can fix this?” Rage burned inside Arthur. His entire body filled with fire that roared as it erupted through his voice. “Huh? You think you can repair this kind of damage, you little shit? Look what you’ve done to me! I’m a killer because of you!”
Crying harder, Cooper turned away again. He must have seen that his pleas were no good. How could they be? All he’d done was try to excuse himself for the mistake he’d made all those years ago. And to think, he hadn’t even had the balls to stay in the car and own up to what he’d done. No, some other poor guy had leapt into his seat, protecting this monster.
It was no use. Arthur knew at this point that there was no getting through to him. If Cooper was really sorry he’d have confessed long ago, submitting himself to the courts for a fair trial. Instead, he’d continued his meaningless life like the loser he was. For years, Arthur had woken up each morning wondering if the people in that car still thought about him—if they thought about what they’d cost him. Now, as he was facing the final sinner, it dawned on him that his loss was nothing more than a passing thought to them.
“I just want to know one thing,” he said, lowering the knife.
Cooper sniffled, but he didn’t look.
“Do you feel responsible for the death of your friends?”
“You killed them. Not me.”
“And why did I kill them?”
“Because you’re sick.”
Arthur shot forward and grabbed his hair. With all his strength, he shoved his head into the window. A deafening crack came with the collision. Blood painted the glass where a thin line opened into a larger crack. It looked like a snowflake. “I killed them because they deserved it. I killed them because every one of them got into that car and didn’t try to stop you. You didn’t even have a license, did you? You didn’t even properly know how to drive. So, did you think about the safety of others when you got behind the wheel? I’m guessing not.”
Cooper shook his head, making a wheezing sound. “Just… let me go.”
“No.” Arthur shook his head. “We’re past that. Way, way past that.”
Without wasting another moment, he climbed out and shut the door, ignoring the cries that came from inside. With all that was about to happen, he took one last breath of fresh air while he walked to the back of the car and got ready to push. This was it: the moment had finally come that he could say he hadn’t let them die without consequence, and although one still lived, he knew he’d at least made them all suffer.
All he had to do was give one little push.
And then commit his final act.
Chapter Forty-Three
Morgan had lost Gary some time ago, but although he knew they’d both still make it, he couldn’t help but feel alone. His eyes kept darting toward the vanity mirror, searching for
his best friend: the man with the gun. Gary was his safety blanket, among other things, and to have him lag so far behind only made him more anxious for what was coming.
As he got nearer to the place where it all began, Morgan saw a parked car overlooking a steep drop onto the highway. There was a winding road that led up behind him, made mostly of rocks and gravel. This must be the place, he thought as he pushed on the accelerator to reach his destination. He could see how easy it would be to lose control of a car here, but he sped up anyway. If he could do anything to keep Cooper safe, he was going to try it.
The closer he got, the more he saw. Morgan peered over the steering wheel and squinted through the winter sun. Up ahead, Arthur had one hand on a gun and one on the trunk of a car, doubled over like he was about to push it. Morgan shifted into fifth, spraying dirt from under the tires. He was nearly there now, and the figure stood up straight, staring in his direction with his hands in his pockets.
“Arthur,” he mumbled under a ragged breath.
This was it. The moment of truth.
Morgan slowed the car to a stop and got out slowly with his hands above his head. He exchanged stares with Arthur, who looked like he’d been awake for days. His bloodshot eyes were fixed inside a pale, gaunt face, his beard scruffier now than the last time they’d met. He was a dangerous-looking mess of a man. He quickly drew a hand from his pocket to reveal a handgun. He took aim but didn’t fire. Not yet anyway.
“Don’t come any closer,” he called above the nearby passing of cars.
You don’t have to tell me twice, Morgan thought as he took slow, steady sidesteps while his heart pounded its way up into his throat. He leaned just a little, looking into Arthur St. John’s car for any sign of Cooper. The sun bounced off the windshield, making it hard to discern anything at all, but he could make out a pair of hands on the steering wheel. “Is he all right?”
Mason & Morgan- The Serial Killer Collection Page 75