Now You See Me

by Rachel Carrington

He considered ignoring the summons, but the South Carolina Department of Corrections had called a meeting of the prisons, and in order to continue to keep control of Ramsey he needed to keep his job. Reluctance in every move, he turned his SUV toward the interstate that would take him back to Marsden.

  “When are you going to get me out of here?” Ramsey sat up in the bed, glaring at the shackles still holding him captive.

  Downing moved away from the window, sweat beaded on his upper lip. “It can’t be today. By now Jericho will have realized Kate Elliott is missing. You’re the obvious suspect…or your partner is anyway.”

  Ramsey smirked. “I don’t have a partner, Downing. Never have. You’re just my tool.”

  “Laugh it up, Ramsey. You got caught once. There’s no way you’ll stay free.”

  The chains rattled as he shifted on the bed. “That’s where you’re wrong, Deputy Warden.” The address came out sounding like an epithet. “See, I learn from my mistakes. Once I’m out of these handcuffs I’ll never be back in them.”

  Downing whirled to face him, his own face ashen. “I did what you wanted me to do. Now where is my family?”

  Ramsey tried to pull one hand away from the bedrail. “Your job isn’t finished until I’m out of here and Kate Elliott is in my possession. You know the rules.”

  “What rules?” Downing cursed. “You’ve been making them up as you go along.”

  “That’s the fun of the game.”

  The deputy warden lunged toward him, then restrained himself. He stepped back, his hands fisted at his sides. “My family’s safety isn’t a game to me.”

  With a shrug, Ramsey angled his head toward the window. “It’s such a beautiful day outside. I’ve missed seeing the sunshine without being surrounded by fences.” He smiled slightly, knowing how much it would irritate Downing. “But it’s the night I love the most. The stars, the moon and the smell of darkness.”

  Downing stiffened and walked toward the door of the hospital room. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening.”

  “Make it tonight.”

  “Were you not listening to me? If I release you tonight Jericho will know I’m the one who did it. He’s confiscated all of the keys. He and I are the only two with masters.”

  Ramsey pursed his lips. The poor guy didn’t even realize how short his lifespan was. Once Downing released him and led him to Kate, he’d have no more use for the deputy.

  “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.” Ramsey grinned but inside he felt no humor, only a cold determination. Before the sun rose tomorrow morning he’d add three more bodies to his count—unless he decided to take his time with Kate Elliott. The thought did appeal to him.

  “It’s not your chance to take.” One hand now on the door handle, Downing gave it a tug. “Tomorrow evening.”

  “Tonight, or your family dies.”

  Downing’s breath hissed out. “I hope you catch a bullet between the eyes before all of this is over, Ramsey.”

  “I appreciate the well wishes. See you tonight.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The board hadn’t seemed so far away when Downing was still in the room with her, but trying to scoot the chair across the uneven floor had stretched the distance to what seemed like miles.

  Sweat dripped down the back of her neck and her thighs ached from the exertion. Downing had secured her feet to the legs of the chair, making even the tiniest movement difficult.

  She took another deep breath, closed her eyes and inched forward a bit more. The nails were so close she could smell the rust emanating from the corner of the room. Another short hop and the back of the chair bumped the broken wood. She didn’t allow herself time to rejoice.

  Leaning forward, she raised her arms up and began to rake the rope binding her hands over the extended nails. The points jabbed her skin but she gritted her teeth and kept up the repetitive motion.

  She lost track of how much time had passed and fire ripped through her shoulders, but she didn’t stop. Strands began to separate slowly and it fueled her drive. She picked up the pace and the strands finally broke, the remnants of the rope dropping to the rotted floor.

  Though blood poured over her hands, she didn’t take time to inspect the damage. She freed her legs and raced to the front door. The knob wouldn’t turn, so she beat on the wood, calling for help even though the odds were low anyone would hear her.

  She made a mad dash through the house, looking for cracks in the boards covering the windows, pausing to shout through each one. Tears streamed down her cheeks as frustration built.

  Had she only escaped the ropes so she could wait for Ramsey unfettered? The question ignited her determination. In a house this damaged there had to be some loose floorboards. If she could get into the crawlspace, she might be able to reach the street.

  Carefully but quickly, she checked each room, without success. Any broken boards she found were set atop concrete. The house didn’t have a crawlspace, but Kate found another option in the kitchen.

  The hole for the dryer vent hadn’t been covered, and though, only about four inches, the boards surrounding it were falling apart. Kate dropped down and began to kick almost hysterically at the hole. With each crumble of wood she laughed a little and kicked more.

  “I’m not waiting for you, Ramsey. I’m not waiting!”

  Brad wasn’t waiting for any more answers. Eleven hours had passed since Kate had disappeared and fear gnawed at his stomach like acid. One person knew where she was, and Ramsey would tell him—voluntarily or involuntarily.

  He stepped off the elevator, rounded the corner and saw the door to Ramsey’s hospital room open. David Downing walked out. What in the hell was he doing here now? According to their last phone call, Ramsey was out of danger, so Brad had instructed David to go home and grab a few hours of sleep. That was close to two hours ago.

  “David, what are you doing here? I thought you went home a while ago.” Brad blocked his path. He didn’t want to suspect the man who’d worked for him for three years but with Kate’s life on the line he couldn’t be sure.

  David scrubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “There’s no way I could sleep. So I’ve been trying to get some answers. That bastard knows where Kate is. Are the police at least looking for her now?”

  The concern in David’s voice had Brad’s shoulders relaxing a bit. The deputy warden had always been a fixer, trying to solve every problem that came along. Brad should have considered that before jumping to the wrong conclusion.

  “Yeah, I’ve got a friend in the department who set up an unofficial search.” Though he wasn’t really sure he could call the captain his friend. “Did Ramsey tell you anything?”

  “To go to hell.” David’s face wore a pained expression. “How about her house? Have you been there? I wasn’t sure if the police found anything but it might be worth a second look just to be on the safe side.”

  Brad’s antennae went back up. Now David sounded a little too eager to help. “An hour or so ago. I didn’t find anything either.”

  “Damn.” David clamped a hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to find her, Brad.” He laughed a little, his hand falling away. “Who am I telling? You’ve never been the type of guy to give up. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.” His shoulders hunched, he started walking.

  “David.” Brad called to him over his shoulder, though he wasn’t quite sure what made him do it.

  “Yeah?”

  “What made you think you could get Ramsey to talk to you?” Brad pivoted to face him and, for a brief moment, thought he saw panic on the man’s face. He might be wrong but he’d seen something that didn’t belong.

  “I didn’t.” David shrugged. “I knew it was a long shot, but I took a chance.”

  That didn’t explain why David had decided to get involved in the search. Yeah, he might be a problem solver, but Kate Elliott didn’t mean anything to him. So why would he involved himself in this problem?

  Brad didn’t like questions
without answers but he wanted to believe his friend was involved in this even less. Maybe David really was just trying to help. Still, Brad couldn’t erase the nagging suspicion clouding his mind.

  “You want to go grab a beer?” David jabbed a thumb toward the elevators. “I know it’s early, but I’m buying.”

  A diversion to throw him off the scent? Brad couldn’t be sure. “No thanks. I think I’ll give it a try with Ramsey.”

  David backed down the hall, his face a little pale. “He got pretty loopy when I was in there. Nurse just gave him some morphine, I think. He was complaining about the pain in his stomach.” He grunted. “If you ask me, they should have let him suffer.”

  “Maybe I’ll wait, then. See you tomorrow.” Brad watched his deputy warden walk away. It took everything within him to resist the overwhelming urge to push him against the wall and demand some answers. Because as much as he didn’t want to think his friend was capable of working with the likes of John Ramsey, his instincts screamed a different tune.

  Once David was out of earshot he called his former captain. “I think I know someone who has some information for us but I can’t be sure.”

  “What does your gut tell you?”

  “That he knows something he doesn’t want me to know.”

  “That’s good enough for me. What’s his name?”

  Brad hesitated. If David was involved, he could get the information out of him faster than the police could. David wouldn’t be scared of the police.

  “Jericho? You still there?” Roddingham raised his voice a little.

  “Yeah, I’m here. Just wondering if it would be better if I just followed him, see what I come up with. It might not be anything, then you’re wasting manpower.”

  “You let me worry about overtime. You just stay away from him, Jericho. Now give me his name and details. I’ll get one of my men to get on it but I’m not going to tell you again to back off.”

  Brad’s hand tightened hard around the cell as he provided the information. He’d meet the captain halfway. Staying away didn’t mean he couldn’t sit outside David’s house just to keep watch.

  “I didn’t hear you say you were going to leave this to the police.”

  “You think I don’t know I no longer carry a badge, Captain? I know what I’m allowed to do, but if David Downing is Ramsey’s hands, well, let’s just say I can get to him before your guys can.”

  Roddingham cursed and his old leather chair creaked familiarly. Brad didn’t need to be there to know his ex-commander was sitting on the edge of his seat, his entire focus on the phone in his hand. “I mean it, Jericho. Get involved and I will haul you in for obstruction.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Captain.” He ended the call before Roddingham could add more threats. His mind flashed back to the surprise in Downing’s eyes when Brad had asked him to find out how the mushroom had gotten into the prison.

  This was crazy. He’d known David Downing for three years, had worked side by side with the man. They’d saved each other’s lives during a prison riot over a year ago. Never, under normal circumstances, would David turn his back on his duty. Which meant that if David was involved, it was because the circumstances had changed.

  Brad checked in on Ramsey, found him asleep as David had indicated. A quick chat with the nurse told him the killer would be out for several hours. He’d just been given a dose of morphine as he’d been complaining of stomach pains unrelieved by other painkillers. That should keep him out. The last time Brad’d had morphine, he’d lost eight hours. Just in case, he instructed the guards on duty to stay alert.

  Back in the lobby of the hospital, he caught a glimpse of David moving toward the exit. Heart pumping, Brad followed. What had taken David so long to exit the hospital? Had he been waiting for Brad to leave?

  Now that his suspicions were in full force, he wasn’t taking his eyes off this guy until a detective arrived.

  As he sat behind the wheel of his vehicle, he recalled Aaron’s words. She seemed to know the guy. Kate had met Downing. It would make sense she would trust the prison’s deputy warden. He’d never given her a reason not to, and if David had approached Kate she wouldn’t have put up her guard.

  He wrenched his hands around the wheel, praying he was wrong. A heavy weight sat on his chest like a one-hundred-pound barbell. If David Downing was involved… He let the thought go, knowing his own temper.

  An unmarked Chevy pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and a detective Brad didn’t recognize lifted one finger off the steering wheel in an informal wave. Brad’s lips curled. Roddingham must have given his description.

  He wanted to intercede, to make sure the cop knew to call him if he discovered anything, but Roddingham would intercept that. But he wasn’t helpless. If there was someone who could shed some light on David, it would be his wife.

  Ramsey waited until the sky outside his window was completely dark before he spat the key out of his mouth. With both hands secured, he didn’t have much play room. He lost precious minutes unlocking one hand but when the handcuff fell away, he rushed to finish the rest before leaning over and yanking the cord for the heart monitor machine from the wall. The Ritalin Downing had given him zinged through his system, erasing the morphine sedation. Now, feeling almost euphoric, he tugged the needle out of his arm and threw the IV line to one side.

  Just outside the hospital, the deputy warden waited for him, waited to take him to see Kate Elliott. The thought gave him a surge of energy and he dressed quickly while his mind jumped ahead to the list of things he needed to do before he saw her. Then the things he’d do once he was with her.

  It would be so sweet. He stopped to shake off the anticipation threatening to glue him in place. Not now. There would be plenty of time to enjoy the feast.

  Now wearing jeans, a T-shirt and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, he had to figure out a way to get past the guards. Downing could have helped him out there but the man had looked like he was about to wet himself when Ramsey had suggested it. As long as the guy had his ass in the parking lot, Ramsey would forgive him this one misdeed.

  It was no sweat off Ramsey’s brow if he had to add a few more bodies to his current count. He never kept track of the men he killed anyway. They weren’t important, just obstacles to be removed most of the time.

  An idea formulating, he took position on the opposite side of the door and called out to the guard outside his room. Whether one or both came in, he would be ready.

  The door opened and a fresh-faced prison guard walked into the room, flashlight in hand. Ramsey lunged, wrapped his arm around the man’s neck and squeezed tightly. He considered changing into the guard’s uniform but didn’t want to risk running into someone he was supposed to know.

  With the way paved for an exit, he stuck his head outside the door, saw the clear hallway and headed toward the closest exit door at a fast pace.

  “I’m on my way, Kate.” He whispered the words over and over on his way down the stairs.

  Kate shimmied through the hole in the wall, unwilling to break it open wider. Though the jagged wooden edges scraped her skin and tore her clothing, she reached freedom in seconds.

  Darkness had fallen and the neighborhood didn’t look to be the safest in the world. Streetlights had been broken, the shattered glass littering the ground beside the pole. From over her left shoulder Kate heard raucous laughter and harsh language. She’d been in tougher spots, but usually she had more than just her wits to help save her life.

  No matter who or what she ran into, it couldn’t be worse than waiting for Ramsey to kill her. Once onto the asphalt she started to run, continually scanning both sides of the road for a convenience store, gas station or some place with a phone. Whistles sounded behind her along with a car engine but Kate didn’t look back. She ran across an empty parking lot belonging to a store that had gone out of business a long time ago.

  The sight of a phone booth gave her hope but seconds later she realized the phone ha
d been removed. She rounded the store and picked up the pace, her feet carrying her down a street with white clapboard houses and chain-link fences. Music blared from a few of the homes but as she reached the stop sign a house on the corner provided a beacon.

  Soft yellow light from the picture window fell across the neatly manicured lawn and, as Kate limped closer, she caught a glimpse of an older lady wearing hair curlers seated inside the living room.

  Desperation propelled her across the grass and up the front steps. She banged on the front door and a frantic dog began barking wildly inside.

  “Who is it?” The reedy voice barely filtered past the door.

  “I need to call the police. I was kidnapped. Please help me.” Kate sandwiched herself between the hard wood and the screen door. “My name is Kate Elliott. I’m a newspaper reporter. I’m alone. No one is with me and I don’t have anything with me. I just need help.”

  The door didn’t open but the woman’s reply offered some comfort. “You wait right there. I’m calling the police.”

  Kate sank to her knees, resting her forehead against the decorated wood. “Thank you.”

  The next sentence sounded like a warning. “I’m giving them your name.”

  “That’s good. Thank you again.” She couldn’t hear the phone call the woman made, but only minutes later blue lights illuminated the yard. She pushed herself to her feet and staggered down the steps.

  “Hands where we can see them!”

  She held up her hands but continued to walk forward. “I’m Kate Elliott. I was kidnapped this morning. The police should be looking for me by now.” She collapsed into the nearest police officer’s arms, elation giving way to exhaustion.

  He picked her up, carried her to his car. Kate barely paid attention to what happened next, though she did appreciate the blanket the cop gave her. Seated in the back of the police cruiser with the door firmly shut, she knew she was safe…at least for now, but she didn’t know how close Ramsey was or if Downing was nearby.