Mason & Morgan- The Serial Killer Collection

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Mason & Morgan- The Serial Killer Collection Page 84

by Adam Nicholls


  But they wouldn’t take her Mason.

  Gripping the gun tight, she hurried down the stairs and into the garage. Time was limited, and she knew it. If Morgan Young knew where she lived, how long was it before the cops came kicking down her door? Why had he been there anyway? Did he not think she’d recognize his voice? It was the same deep, cocksure voice that Mason Black once had, only with a little more intelligence and a little less firmness. All the same, he’d interfered, and later on he’d pay.

  Right now, she had business to attend to.

  Setting the gun down for only a second, she spun the valve wheel and sprung open the hatch. Mason had his back to the wall again, huddled into a corner with his face buried in his hands. He didn’t look up until she thumbed the hammer on the pistol.

  “Get up. We’re going for a ride.”

  Mason sneered at her. “What makes you think I’m going anywhere with you?”

  “Because if you don’t, then I’ll put a bullet in each of your limbs, and then I’ll find your daughter and bury one in her spine. How’s that?” Erika glanced at her watch. Only three minutes ago she’d been on the doorstep with the private investigator. If he intended to have her arrested, her time was running short. She reached for the detachable ladder and tossed it down to him. “I won’t ask again.”

  Mason slowly climbed to his feet, though it was unclear if it was due to reluctance or instability. It’d probably been a while since he’d eaten, and the conditions were hardly sanitary. It was no wonder he wobbled and stumbled as he got to his feet, reaching for the ladder and resting it against the wall, knocking it twice to test it wouldn’t fall.

  “Nice and slow,” Erika said, her heart thundering. “Don’t try anything.”

  He took his time getting to the top, and by then she’d run out of patience. Speeding the process along, she grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and hauled him to his feet. He was even heavier than she remembered, which said a lot considering he was over six feet tall with the muscles to match. He also stank of something old and stale—another reason to keep her distance, as if his tendency to act out wasn’t enough.

  “Where are we going?” he said, his gruff voice reduced to a mutter.

  “Just for a little ride, darling.” Erika jabbed the lip of the barrel into his back, encouraging him forward. Slow and stubborn, he trod through the house, stopping to examine the rooms. Erika had no patience for this and had to shove him until they arrived at the back door. She made him open it.

  Mason stopped in the doorway, cold air seeping in while he laughed. It was a coarse noise, his shoulders bobbing up and down as he chuckled to himself.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “Just that we’re going outside. You think I won’t call for help?”

  It was Erika’s turn to laugh, though she thought hers was more of a sweet, subtle sound. It was a laugh she’d used repeatedly in order to woo men. There was no measure to how far a feminine giggle and a twirl of the hair could get her. “You can call for help if you like, but you forget who has the gun. Do you honestly believe you’d last more than two seconds if you did? Forget it. I’ve killed people for far less.”

  Mason stood in silence, his large frame still blocking out the sunlight while he stood staring out at the cold, concrete yard around the back of her home. He groaned as if to accept his fate and then finally took one short step. “At least tell me where we’re going.”

  But Erika was in too much of a hurry. She guessed she had five minutes or less before the cops arrived at her door, and she couldn’t go to jail—wouldn’t. Not for killing the others. Not for sticking a knife in that asshole cop’s chest. Certainly not for taking Mason Black; he was her rightful property, and who were they to tell her different?

  They had to hurry.

  Erika reached inside her jean pocket for the car key and gave it a little jingle. “We’re going to get out of here, and if you want to live through this, we’re going to do it real fast.” She shoved him forward with her heel, holding a firm grip on the pistol. “You don’t mind if we take your car, do you? I seem to have misplaced mine.”

  She laughed under her breath.

  Mason didn’t.

  Chapter Twenty

  “You’re sure you want this?” Gary turned in his seat, staring at him so hard it could’ve pierced his soul. “As soon as I put in the request, there’s no going back. You have to be certain.”

  Morgan already knew he could wave goodbye to his case if that request went through. As it was, homicide was the only thing that stood between him and vigilante justice, and he’d become very fortunate that Gary was heading the charge on that one. But calling in for an arrest meant escalating things to new heights. With Erika Givens in custody, it was unlikely she’d cooperate, and Mason Black could be lost.

  “I don’t know,” Morgan said, feeling frown lines form on his own face. “What do you think?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Sure.”

  “I don’t know why you’re hesitating.”

  “Because I’ve been here before,” Morgan said. “A thousand times. Police involvement tends to be the end, and… I guess I still believe Mason Black is alive. Call me optimistic, but that’s the way it is.”

  Gary sighed. “You know the MPD are capable though, right?”

  “Meaning?”

  “If Mason really is still alive, it doesn’t mean he’ll die.”

  “I know that. It’s just—” Morgan fell silent.

  “Just?”

  Stunned, Morgan found himself unable to form the words. Instead, he simply pointed over the dashboard to the far end of the street, where a car pulled out of a thin driveway between two blocks. But it wasn’t just any old car; it was a black Mustang.

  Mason’s Mustang.

  “Holy shit,” Gary wheezed. “That’s—”

  “Yeah. And see who’s driving?”

  They peered together, leaning into the windshield for a closer look. Morgan was pretty sure who he saw in the driver’s seat but figured his eyes must have been playing tricks on him. It was too good to be true, wasn’t it—expecting Erika Givens to leave the property in the stolen car of a man she was thought to have harmed?

  “This could mean Mason is gone, pal.”

  “Or,” Morgan said, ignoring such pessimism, “she’s on her way to him right now.”

  “Either way, she’s guilty of something.”

  “No kidding.”

  Across the street, Erika seemed to gloss over them, checking both sides before she pulled onto the road and headed away from them. She stopped the car at the traffic lights at the far end, indicating to turn left at any moment.

  “Last chance,” Gary said. “What do you want to do?”

  Morgan’s heart was racing faster than any car could have. Being this close to Erika, it felt almost impossible not to come away with a positive result. Unfortunately, he knew his own luck, and it rarely worked in his favor. Still, his decision was made for him when the lights shone green and Erika went out of sight, turning onto the next street.

  “Follow her,” he said.

  Gary fired up the engine and pulled out of the spot. “No problem.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Erika was sure she was being followed, but frequent glances at the vanity mirror provided nothing more than a preview of the old bitch tailgating her. It made her uncomfortable, as if she were about to be forced off the road. What would happen then? She saw the scenario play out in her mind like an old movie: first the driver would get out to scream at her, then she’d hear banging from Erika’s trunk. If she decided not to kill her, the other driver would probably call the cops, and then it’d all be over for her. No more playthings.

  No more Mason.

  Thrilled at the idea of shaking the driver, Erika skipped a red light and took a left, quickly speeding up to avoid a collision with one of the new Nissans that looked like nothing so much as metal boxes. Such a crash would’ve been deadly,
crushing the man she’d stored in the trunk—squishing him like a grape and leaving her all alone in this world.

  It wasn’t good enough.

  By the time she straightened out, beginning a steady cruise down the long street that would eventually take her out of town, Erika was already on edge. The recent memory of Morgan Young arriving at her home filled her with dread. Was she really that close to being caught? It seemed almost impossible that she’d let it get that far. Until now, she’d felt invincible—nobody had even come close to finding her out yet, so she’d figured that if she stuck to the rules, she’d be safe until the end of time. But at this moment, abandoning her home, possibly forever, with Mason Black pounding at the inside of the trunk, she knew the game was up. Her life as she knew it was over.

  What would come next? She had an idea for a destination, but she couldn’t stay there for long. If she was lucky, hiding away up there would be good enough for a few days while she formulated a plan—a smarter one this time. One that would see her through to another state where she could start over. It was only the price of a new safe room that daunted her.

  “What the hell’s wrong with you, lady?”

  The voice was muffled but easy to make out. Erika caught herself grinning as the gears shifted and she sped up, slipping into the next lane. She found it hilarious that a man in his position could be so hostile. Surely by this point he’d have thought to suck up to her a little. Then again, Mason wasn’t that kind of guy. His screw-you nature was one of the things she liked most about him. It made him edgy and exciting. “It’s best you keep quiet.”

  “So you can do what you want with me?”

  “Exactly.”

  Mason went silent for a while.

  Until: “What do you want from me? Sex?”

  “Sex?” Erika giggled. “Sure, but we both know you’re too devoted to your wife. Anyway, you’re not the first one to try luring me into the bedroom to seize control, so you can give up that ploy right away. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to handle me.”

  Her words were met with silence, and as far as she could see, that silence more or less confirmed she was right. Nobody wanted to sleep with her—at least, not any of the people she’d taken—so why would this one be any different? She wanted to believe she was wrong, but doing so was a slippery slope. If she let him take her to the bedroom, she’d be on her back in no time, and vulnerability just wasn’t her thing.

  She kept an eye on the gas gauge. The needle was too close to the left, and it was no wonder. This car was a beast, grumbling under her with a forceful vibration that rattled through to her teeth. It wasn’t long before she’d have to stop and top it up. What then? Mason was sure to yell for help, so she’d have to stick to one of the emptier gas stations near a loud, busy road. Even then, it was risky, but she had no choice. She had to lay out some ground rules.

  “You there?” she asked, wondering if he’d passed out from some form of claustrophobia. It must’ve been cramped in the trunk—even for her—but Mason was a damn big guy. There was no answer, so she touched on the brakes to jump the car until she heard a thud.

  “Christ, lady, you’ve got problems.”

  Erika ignored that comment as she blew past a truck that was going thirty in a fifty zone. “I’m going to stop for gas soon, because someone can’t seem to manage his own fuel. It’s probably best we go over a couple rules, in case you get any bright ideas.” She focused on the road, sliding between two cars so she could take over a slow-moving truck. “First, I can’t pay by card because they might be tracking my movements, so I’m going to need some cash.”

  “I don’t have any,” Mason mumbled through the thick leather of the seats.

  “Don’t bullshit me. I found it on you before I threw you into The Pit. I didn’t take it because it wasn’t mine, but now I need it. Here’s what’s going to happen: before I open the trunk, I’m going to spray a little gas by my feet. I’ll have a lighter in my hand when I open the door, so be careful. If you make a single movement other than handing me your wallet, I’ll drop the lighter and we’ll both go boom-boom. You got it?”

  “You’re a psycho.”

  Erika sighed. “Do you understand me?”

  “… Yes.”

  “Good. Rule number two: there’s to be no banging or yelling for help. If you attempt to push your luck and attract any unwanted attention… well, see rule number one. Not only will you get blown into the sky, but if I don’t get caught in the blast, then you can be dead certain I’ll be going after your family. Are we clear?”

  “You’d really kill yourself?”

  “Of course.” But would she? Erika didn’t know. “Are we clear?”

  Mason hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Great. Now be a good boy and keep quiet. Mommy has to concentrate.”

  Erika slipped into the right-hand lane and kept an eye on the vehicles behind her. The truck was still trundling along at a ridiculous speed, causing a problem for everyone around it. Thankfully, she was out of its way and heading into a clearing where she could put her foot down and pray she found a gas station before the engine died. The last thing she wanted was to get stranded. Who knew what she’d do then?

  All she knew was that if she was going down, she’d take Mason Black with her.

  That much, she could promise.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Mustang was only a couple of cars in front, but to Morgan it felt a million miles away. While it occurred to him that Mason Black could be back in the house and completely unattended, there was also a possibility that Erika Givens was skipping town for good. If that happened, it was only a matter of time before somebody else fell victim to her devious antics.

  “You’re losing her,” he told Gary, pointing ahead of him and bobbing his knee.

  “Relax,” Gary said. “I’ve got this.”

  They slid behind a truck that was moving far too slow for Morgan’s liking. It obscured the view of the Mustang, making him far more uncomfortable. He liked to be able to see the car, and although this was more of a tailing than a high-speed pursuit, Erika was driving a little faster than the law instructed. They could lose her at any moment.

  As if reading his mind, Gary found an opening in the next lane. He veered the car over and tucked behind another. This kept them concealed, and from here Morgan could see Mason’s Mustang again. This time it was closer; he could see the back of Erika’s head through the car in front, and just in case she happened to look back, he slid down in his seat and covered his face, scratching his forehead and hoping it looked natural.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Gary said.

  “Why so sure?”

  “We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

  Morgan supposed he was right. In the grand scheme of things, having only one car between them and Erika wasn’t that much. If anything, they were too damn close, and suddenly everything Morgan had felt at risk. Rachel was at home, trying to slide her way back into work. Robin was probably on her lap, making the most adorable demands. Meanwhile, he was in a car only a few feet away from a woman who just might be a killer.

  Things like that really lent some perspective.

  They kept following until they approached a gas station. Morgan sat up straight and found a parking spot on the far side of the property, which he brought to Gary’s attention. While Gary parked, Morgan watched with an eagle-like gaze as Erika stopped the Mustang beside a gas pump. She got out. Her black hair danced in the winter breeze, trailing out behind her like millions of little arms reaching out for her next victim. Her cheeks—lily-white last time they spoke—were now red with the season’s cold assault.

  “What the hell is she doing?” Gary asked.

  “Stopping for gas,” Morgan said, as if it wasn’t obvious.

  “Duh. I mean, what’s that in her hand?”

  Morgan squinted, leaning over the seat to look closer. It took him a while to make it out, but the big red blob eventually unblurred and revealed itself.
It hung in her hand as she made her way to the back of the car, where she held still for a moment, looking over both shoulders. Now that she was closer, it was obvious what it was. What wasn’t so clear, however, was what she was doing with it. It made no sense whatsoever.

  “It’s a jerry can,” Morgan said, refusing to shift his gaze. Erika tipped it onto the ground by the car and hurled some onto the gas pump. There wasn’t much, but fear seared through him as he realized it was enough to blow the whole gas station sky high. “Jesus, she’s nuts.”

  Gary turned in his seat. “Should we move in?”

  “Let’s give it a minute.”

  “She could hurt someone.”

  “I know.” Morgan quickly scanned his surroundings for another vehicle. Thankfully, there wasn’t one, but there were still employees inside. He continued to watch, only growing more confused when she pulled out a lighter and opened the trunk. Morgan couldn’t see inside from here, but she pulled out something small and brown—a wallet, perhaps—and then closed the trunk before heading inside. She shut her Zippo as she walked casually toward the front doors, as if she hadn’t just put her own life at risk.

  Within a heartbeat, she vanished.

  “Think she’s going out the back door?” Gary asked.

  Morgan blew out a breath, his entire body tensed. He was this close to heading inside and making a citizen’s arrest. “I doubt it. She wouldn’t leave the car here.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I want to know what she’s got in the car,” Morgan said, tugging on the knot of his tie and unhooking a button. It felt like it was a hundred degrees in here, the heat from the vent roasting his skin. It made him think of Erika and how she’d be burning too if she wasn’t careful.

 

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