by LENA DIAZ,
He smiled, as if delighted by her reaction. “Richard caught me sneaking into your room when you’d gone to bed early one night. I’d told him I wasn’t feeling well and wanted to lie down in the guest room for a bit before driving back home. I guess he didn’t trust me, so he checked on me at a most inopportune moment.” He laughed. “I wanted you. And he wouldn’t let me have you. And that’s the real reason he died.” He grimaced. “Unfortunately, dear old Grant over there suspected I was up to no good. It’s a long story, really, and I don’t have the time. Suffice it to say, I have contacts in security, and I knew exactly where you went every time you left the house. I knew Leslie was helping you.” He shook his head. “She paid for that, of course, after doing me a favor or two. Like switching wills.”
“I...don’t understand.” She tried to keep calm, to keep him talking, stalling for time. “Why would you switch wills? You didn’t get much money in the will Leslie filed.”
He shook his head. “Still haven’t figured it out, have you? I didn’t want all that money going to Grant. I wanted it for myself. I knew the courts would suspect something if I got the bulk of the estate, so I played it the other way. I would have gotten all the money eventually, of course. When I married you.”
She shivered with revulsion.
His smile faded. “Richard would have knocked you flat for that.” His eyes flashed with anger. “I’d planned on killing him at that little cottage of yours and framing Grant. You know, two birds, one stone. But ‘Grant the pest’ followed me, walked right in after I shot Richard. From then on, it was all about damage control. I’d hoped to make Grant look like a lunatic, a three-way loversʼ triangle. I was having fun framing him for everything I was doing, but things got so screwed up.”
Nausea coiled in her stomach. She pointed at the pictures on the glass door. “What about Grant’s family? They never did anything to you.”
“True. Their fate is regrettable, I agree. They were nice enough to me. But they’re collateral damage. Nothing anyone can do for them now.”
Carol looked past him to the open doorway.
His brows rose. “Thinking you can get by me, eh?” He stood and pulled her to her feet. He reached a hand toward her face.
She flinched and ducked away.
His nostrils flared like a stallion scenting a mare. “Skittish, huh? Well, I can understand that, after living with my brother for so long. I never was one to hit a woman. Not that I have anything against the practice. It just wasn’t my thing.” His gaze raked down her body. “As for the rest, well, like I said, if I only had the time.” He clucked his tongue again and shook his head. “What a waste.”
He stepped back and motioned with the gun toward the door. “Come along, Caroline. The only way I’m coming out of this without going to prison now is to make sure no one can connect me to anything. That’s why I had Grant kill Leslie and abduct you. I needed him to leave evidence that showed he was a psychopath and a murderer. When you both disappear, the police will assume he killed you and ran off. And I can go back to my life as if nothing ever happened.” He waved the gun again. “Let’s go. The plant opens in a few hours. I have to get rid of both of your bodies and hose the place down before anyone sees me. Time to disappear.”
Carol lunged past him and ran out the door into the hall.
The sound of laughter followed her mad dash through the plant. There weren’t that many lights on, only an occasional overhead round fluorescent light hanging from a pole that didn’t illuminate much of the area around it.
“I’ll just get rid of Grant first, okay, Caroline?” he called out. “Don’t worry, it won’t take long.”
A whimper bubbled up in Carol’s throat. Why wasn’t he worried she’d escape? She soon found the answer. When she reached the door she and Grant had come through earlier, it was bolted shut with a chain and a padlock across it. She shoved on the door anyway, rattling the chain and rocking the door against its frame.
Daniel’s laughter echoed through the room. “That’s the only door, sweetheart,” he yelled from somewhere in the darkness. “The only other way into the plant is through the cattle shoots. And they’re all closed up nice and tight for the night.”
Carol whirled around, her gaze sweeping back and forth across the low, rectangular building. The room was full of all kinds of equipment she didn’t recognize, scary-looking machines with sharp blades and what looked like giant nail guns hanging from pulleys on the ceiling with rubber hoses attached to them. She turned in a circle, but it looked as if Daniel was telling the truth. The only other doors were the massive overhead rolling kind, like garage doors, only they were closed and she didn’t have a clue how to open them.
The sound of footsteps against the concrete floor had her crouching down behind the nearest machine. Another sound followed in concert with the footsteps, a swishing sound, like fabric brushing against something. She leaned around the machine, peering across the dimly lit area where the sound was coming from.
Daniel passed beneath one of the lights, calmly walking through the warehouse, holding Grant’s hand, dragging his body behind him.
Carol clasped her hands over her mouth again, desperately trying not to wretch.
Laughter sounded from the other side of the room again. Daniel must have heard her, and he was enjoying her terror.
An image of Luke’s handsome, smiling face floated in Carol’s mind’s eye. If he were here, he’d protect her. He’d make everything safe for her. For a moment, she remained frozen wishing Luke could save her. But she thought about the pictures on the glass door in the room where she’d been held. Grant’s wife and daughter didn’t deserve to die any more than Carol did, assuming they were still alive. If she gave up now, she wasn’t just letting herself down. She was letting those innocents down, as well. She couldn’t cower and do nothing. She had to at least try to escape and get help for them.
She forced her shaking legs to carry her forward, into the dark, to try to find another way out or a weapon of some sort. She stumbled over a hose and fell against a smooth concrete wall in the middle of the room. She leaned over it, peering down into the darkness, following the wall as it snaked back and forth on itself through the room.
It was a cattle shoot, one of the serpentine enclosures the cows walked through from the stockyard to where they were slaughtered. She glanced at the heavy doors behind her. They didn’t sink into the floor. They rested flat against the concrete. But the cattle shoots were below floor level, like a subway. Maybe Daniel was wrong. Maybe there was another way out. Maybe there were side rooms off the shoot or a control panel that would raise the doors.
She glanced around but didn’t see him anywhere. She braced her hands on the smooth top of the wall, lifted her legs over the side, then dropped down into the darkness below.
Chapter Seventeen
There was no sign of movement near the main building of the meatpacking plant. Luke sprinted from the wooded area where he’d parked and quickly crossed the short distance to the parking lot. He crouched beside the patrol car Grant had stolen and felt the hood. Cold. He hurried to Daniel’s BMW and knelt down behind the rear bumper, watching the building.
“Their cars are both here,” he whispered into his cell phone. “And there are lights on inside the main building, the one with the stockyards out front. Don’t come in hot. You’ll have to come in without sirens or lights. I don’t want you to spook them. Have you contacted the plant manager to bring the keys?”
“He’ll meet us a quarter mile outside the entrance. Just keep the line open and let us know if you see anyone outside,” Cornell said. “ETA about fifteen minutes. Do not engage the suspects.”
“To hell with that, Cornell. If Carol’s inside, there’s no telling what could be going on. I’m not waiting.”
“Just a minute, Dawson. You can’t just—”
Luke punched the button to end the call, then turned the ringer off. He shoved the phone into the holder on his belt and pulled out his pistol. As a force of habit, he popped the clip and double-checked the loading, then popped it back in. He waited a few more seconds, closely watching the high-up windows for movement and observing the shadows around the building.
A distant whining noise filtered from inside the building. Luke’s stomach dropped. He knew that sound. An electric saw. He took off running toward the entrance.
* * *
CAROL DUCKED DOWN at the loud noise. It was coming from another part of the building—close...too close. She swallowed against the thickness in her throat, shying away from admitting to herself that she was pretty sure what that sound was. And since it seemed to be coming from the direction where Daniel had dragged Grant’s body, she had a good idea what was going on.
She closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her mouth, trying not to gag. The sound stopped. Her eyes flew open. She had to get moving, had to find a way out. Now.
She took off running down the constantly winding shoot again. It was dark, but since the top was open, the dim light in the factory filtered down enough for her to see where she was going. The walls smelled of disinfectant with an occasional waft of manure. She tried breathing through her mouth and forced herself to keep going even though the shoot never seemed to end.
The tunnel came to an abrupt stop at a solid metal door. She slid to a halt, feeling the door, but there was no knob. She pushed against it, but it didn’t budge. A bitter curse word flew through her mind. She was trapped. And all Daniel had to do was peer over the top of the concrete walls and follow them to the end. Then he could aim his gun and shoot her as if she was nothing more than a helpless cow waiting to be slaughtered.
“Oh, Caroline,” Daniel’s singsong voice called out. “Where are you, dear?”
He was so close! Had he heard her pressing on the gate? Was he about to peer over the wall at her? She bit her bottom lip and started forward, trying not to make any sound that would give away her location while she headed back the way she’d come.
“What are you doing down there, Caroline?”
She gasped and looked up. Daniel was casually leaning over the sloped top of the wall directly above her, shaking his head. “Do you know why the shoot curves back on itself so much instead of going in a straight line? Cows, when they get scared or confused, like to turn around and go back where they came from. So, even though we build the tunnel too narrow to allow them to turn around, we curve the tunnel back on itself. It fools the animals into thinking they’re going back where they came from, when really they’re getting closer and closer to the end, where death awaits. The animals stay calm the entire time.” He grinned. “Makes the kill easier. Brilliant, don’t you think?”
Carol whimpered and started running.
“There you go. That’s a good girl. Run all the way to the end. You’re just making this easy.”
She stumbled to a halt and glanced uncertainly behind her.
“Now, now. We can’t have you turning around.” He leaned over the wall above her and aimed his gun. She screamed and took off running. The gunshot echoed through the tunnel behind her.
* * *
THE SOUND OF a gunshot froze Luke on the platform outside the window. He hadn’t been able to get inside through the main door because it was chained. The only other possibility seemed to be one of the windows set high up in the wall. He’d used the access stairs for the roof to get to one of the windows. He used the butt of his gun like a hammer and busted the glass. He yanked off his leather jacket and flipped it over the jagged edges in the frame and climbed through the hole, then dropped to the floor.
He landed in a rolling crouch to break the long fall, then leaped to his feet waving his gun in front of him. He hurried out the door, pausing when he saw a trail of blood across the concrete. As if a body had been dragged through the hall.
Please don’t let it be Carol.
He rushed out the door into the darkness beyond.
* * *
CAROL STOPPED AND flattened herself against the wall. What was that sound? Breaking glass? She looked up. Daniel must have heard it, too, because he’d paused and looked back toward the front of the building. He looked down at her and smiled, then pressed his fingers to his lips as if to tell her to be quiet, before disappearing over the edge of the wall.
Were the police here? Or Luke? She waited, hoping to hear sirens or voices, but all she heard was silence.
“Hello?” she called out. “Is someone there? It’s Carol Ashton. Is anyone out there?” She waited. Nothing. Could anyone even hear her down in this pit?
She debated running back toward the gate, but that was a dead end, a trap. The only way out was up ahead, where the cattle were slaughtered. Bile rose in her throat but she fought it down and took off running again.
* * *
A MUFFLED SOUND echoed from somewhere up ahead. Luke peered into the gloom and listened intently. Another sound, like someone...running? He spotted curving concrete walls in the middle of the room. They ended at the beginning of the assembly line, where heavy drill-looking machines hung from the ceiling—probably the pneumatic guns used to kill the cattle before they were processed.
The sound echoed again. It was definitely coming from that concrete opening. He glanced around, then sprinted to the nearest curve in the wall. He looked over the side and caught a glimpse of someone running.
Relief swept through him.
“Carol,” he called out in a low whisper.
She stopped and jerked her head up, her eyes wide. “Luke, watch out!”
He whirled around and kicked in one movement, catching Daniel Ashton in the chest. Ashton grunted and fell against the concrete wall. The gun he’d been holding went skidding across the floor and wedged up beneath a machine.
Luke brought his own gun up, but Daniel lunged at him before he could get off a shot. His arms wrapped around Luke, forcing his gun hand up. They both tumbled to the concrete floor.
Daniel landed on top of Luke and bit down on Luke’s wrist. Luke shouted and tried to shake him, but his hand went numb and the gun dropped from his fingers. Daniel grinned triumphantly and dived for the gun. Luke flung himself on top of Daniel’s leg and yanked back, pulling him across the floor before he reached the gun.
Daniel cursed and twisted beneath him, sending a punch flying at Luke’s jaw. Luke ducked just in time, but his movement allowed Daniel to scurry out from beneath him and lunge to his feet. The gun was a few feet behind Luke now, but he couldn’t grab it without taking his eyes off Daniel.
His foe seemed to weigh the choices in front of him, glancing from the gun to Luke and back again. His mouth twisted in a bitter smile. He lunged toward the gun, but when Luke moved to intercept him, Daniel whirled around and sprinted into the darkness, disappearing behind a row of machines.
Luke grabbed the gun and ran to the concrete wall. He peered down but didn’t see Carol anywhere. He looked back up, keeping an eye out for Daniel, then raced along the curve of the wall, glancing down every few feet, looking for Carol.
He ran all the way to the end of the tunnel before he found her, standing in the slaughter box, her eyes wide, her body shaking as she stared at the bloodstains on the floor beneath her.
“Carol,” he whispered. “It’s Luke.”
She didn’t respond. She kept staring at the blood, her face alarmingly pale.
Luke glanced around. “Sweetheart, listen to me. It’s Luke. Can you tell me where Grant is?”
She finally looked up at him. “Grant?” She shook her head. “Grant is...Grant is...” She closed her eyes and swallowed.
He knew the end of that sentence. Grant was dead. Luke couldn’t say that bothered him a bit. It meant one less lunatic to deal with before Carol was
safe.
He peered into the gloom. There was a light directly over the slaughter box, which made it difficult to see anything else, like someone shining a flashlight in his eyes.
“I have to go find Daniel. Wait here.”
She shook her head back and forth. “No, no, don’t leave me! Don’t leave me here!”
His heart broke at the terror on her face, in her voice. “Okay, okay. First, take my gun. Just in case. Here, take it.” He tossed it down to her.
She caught it and looked at it as if she didn’t have a clue what to do with it.
Luke gritted his teeth. He glanced around one more time, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck.
“Luke, please, help me.” Carol reached her arms up toward him.
He flattened himself on the floor at the edge of the box and hung down over the opening, his arms outstretched. “Take my hands. I’ll pull you up.”
She shoved the gun into her waistband and raised her hands.
A swishing noise was Luke’s only warning. He dived to the side just as Daniel lunged at him with one of the pneumatic drills hanging over the slaughter box. It fired, the steel bolt slamming against the concrete before retracting, ready for another shot.
Carol screamed from below.
Daniel bellowed his rage and whirled around, knocking Luke flat on his back. Daniel slammed the drill down toward Luke. Luke clasped his hands on the sides of the drill, grappling for control.
Noises sounded from the front part of the building, voices yelling, feet shuffling. A loud pop echoed through the room. One of the rolling doors began rising.
Daniel cursed and renewed his struggles. The drill lowered closer, closer. He smiled, smelling victory. Luke bucked and twisted beneath him. Daniel lost his grasp on the drill and fell to the side. He must have seen the gun holstered on Luke’s ankle because he cried out in triumph and yanked the gun out. Luke grabbed the drill and twisted around just as Daniel came up with the gun.
Luke shoved the drill against Daniel’s head and squeezed the trigger.