“Okay….” Cait nodded. “Should we tell Flu—”
“No!” I quickly cut her off, my voice still in a whisper. “You have to trust me on this. We just need to leave. Now.”
“Lena, what’s going?” Cait sternly asked. Her feet firmly planted on the ground as she matched my whispered tone.
“I’ll explain in the car,” I said as I walked out of Abram’s lair. I could feel the painted eyes of each victim staring at me, as if they second-guessed my decision to not tell Flu.
Why didn’t any of them understand why I had to do this alone? Rachel was my responsibility. She trusted me to keep her safe. She believed in me one year ago, and I had a feeling she believed in me now. I wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize her life. I wasn’t going to do anything to fail as her hero.
The weight of the victims’ judgment eased as Cait walked behind me. She had become a shield from their stares. Crime Scene would be here soon, and the remains of each victim would be taken away from here. They would be stored in an isolated section of the evidence room until after the trial, but at least they would no longer be here—in this room, in this hell.
My heart pounded as I walked lightly through Abram’s house. I felt like a teenager sneaking out past curfew. Each step was carefully calculated so as to not land on a creaky board. Walking into my dad—or Flu, in this scenario—was the last thing I wanted to do, although it was highly inevitable.
Cait and I had made it back through Abram’s kitchen and dining room without running into anyone. All we had to do was make it past the living room and to my car, and I would be able to explain everything. My hope was that Cait understood enough to not talk me out of this. Because there was no talking me out of this. If Cait didn’t want to help me, then I would drop her off on the side of the road and fight this war alone.
As we turned into the living room, I saw Flu standing in the middle of the room talking to the two officers. Crime Scene must not have arrived yet, which was a bonus on my end. Crime Scene would want my account of what we’d found, and that would only delay my rescue mission. And that’s exactly what this was. I was going to rescue Rachel; I was not going to recover her.
“Did you get everything downloaded?” Flu asked when he saw Cait and me in the living room.
I turned to look at Cait, another silent plea darted from my eyes to hers. Please… just go along with the plan. “I did, yes,” Cait answered after giving me a dubious look.
“We’re headed to the station,” I cut in with a lie. “There’s something in a case file I want to reread now that we’re certain Abram is behind this.”
“Message me the second you find what you’re looking for,” Flu said. “Crime Scene should be here in less than ten minutes.”
A surprise breath of relief escaped my lips, and I quickly smiled to cover any trace of my deceit. This was easier than a kid sneaking out of her house. This was sneaking out of the house when her parents were out of town—and left the car keys by the front door.
We still had to make it to the car before we were in the clear. The euphoric sensation that I got past Flu without having to further explain myself only made my heart pound faster. He didn’t even watch us leave. Once I had given Flu my answer, he just nodded and continued his conversation with the officers. It was as if he knew there was no reason not to believe me—not to trust me.
That was why this was so easy: Flu did trust me. He believed I would do what was best for the department, for myself, and for the victims. And that’s why I had to lie to him. I had to do what was best for the victims, even if that meant doing the worst for myself.
Before Cait could extend the conversation, I bolted out the front door with the hope that she would follow. My car was parked directly across the street. Thirty feet stood between saving Rachel or Abram finishing what Lathan had started. Cait’s footsteps down the short set of stairs fell in unison with the pounding of my heart. She was still behind me. She was going to come with me, and with no questions asked—so far.
I shoved my hand into my coat pocket and grabbed my car keys. I clicked the sensor to unlock the doors and opened the driver’s side door once I saw Cait walk around to the passenger’s side. She seemed as worried and concerned as I was. She knew it was her duty to protect those who needed it, but she didn’t have to go into that duty blindly. I needed to tell her the truth, but doing so could gravely affect Rachel.
Once inside the car, I turned the ignition before Cait put her seatbelt on. Without even checking the side mirrors to see if there were any cars behind me, I pulled away from the curb and drove down Abram’s street. I kept my eyes on the road in front of us. I didn’t want to see Flu in the rearview mirror in case he’d decided to come outside for a few more questions.
The farther I drove, the more I pushed on the gas pedal. It was a quiet residential area that wouldn’t take too kindly to someone speeding down the road, even if that someone was a detective on the verge of catching a monster. But I didn’t care. I had somewhere to be.
“Lena, slow down,” Cait insisted. The click of her seatbelt echoed in the car. I eased my foot off the accelerator, and the car slowed to a slightly less offensive speed. “Who was on the phone?” She turned her body toward me as she sat in the passenger seat. She was not letting herself settle in for a nice joyride. She knew I was headed somewhere with purpose and that this journey would certainly lead us to a destination filled with danger.
“Abram.” I avoided her stare.
“Why didn’t you tell Flu?” Cait looked out the rear window, as if she thought Flu would still be within eyeshot. “He needs to know,” she added.
“I know.” I nodded.
“Turn around… or call him…”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” I could feel Cait’s eyes searching me for a logical explanation. “What did Abram say?” Cait’s plea turned to concern.
“He has Rachel.” I finally took my eyes off the road and looked at Cait. Her stiff posture deflated into a stewed slump. “The Casting Call Killer told me we had five days to figure out who he is. Today is the fifth day.” I brought my eyes back to the road, then to Cait again. She didn’t seem to understand the correlation with the fifth day. “Lathan Collins kept his victims alive for five days,” I reminded her. “Rachel has been missing for five days.”
I weaved in and out of traffic as I continued driving toward Mirror Woods. Cait wasn’t familiar with the area. So if she believed we were headed to the station, she wouldn’t know I was going the opposite way.
“Why would Abram do that to his girlfriend?” she asked.
“I found Abram’s journal in his office,” I confessed. “It explains everything. He wants to carry on Lathan’s legacy… his plan… so Lathan can become a pop-culture icon. He wants Lathan to have the same level of fame as Manson or Dahmer. And he thinks the only way to do that is to tell Lathan’s stories through a series of copycat murders.”
“That’s why he has Rachel.” Cait answered her own question. “That’s why he wants you….” Her thoughts trailed off as she took in our surroundings. “Where are we going, Lena?”
“Mirror Woods.”
“Mirror Woods?” Cait’s words were laden with confusion. “Why? You told Flu we were going to the station.”
I sped through the entrance of Mirror Woods, and the first of the fallen autumn leaves blew around the car’s tires. For the most part, Mirror Woods was one long road that led to a dead end. But along that mile-long road were obscure service roads that led to boating docks and hiking trails.
“I know.” I kept my eyes on the road. “Abram has Rachel. She’s at the house in Mirror Woods. I can’t leave her there.”
“You aren’t. We can call for backup,” Cait bargained.
“You just have to trust me.”
“Call for backup.” Her demand was grim. As much as I wanted to argue with her, I knew she was right. I needed to turn the car around—or at least pull over and call for backup.
I eased my foot off the gas and prepared to turn down the next service road. “I don’t know what crusade you’re on to get yourself killed,” Cait continued, “but I’m not going to—”
Before she could finish her sentence, a speeding force, like a meteoroid travelling at the speed of light, rammed into the passenger side of the car. Glass from the window shattered around Cait. It created an aura of shimmering crystals around her frame. Her hair blew forward as the force of the speeding object pushed her closer toward me. Then the dashboard snapped from the front of the car. It crushed together like an accordion. I gripped the steering wheel as the entire car was pushed off the road by the massive force that seemingly came from nowhere.
Cait’s body was locked in place by her seatbelt, but her arms and head flailed forward. I kept my focus on her face as the world outside started to spin. Loud clashes of metal hitting pavement echoed through the car as it tumbled onto its side, as if we were a pair of shoes cycling through the dryer.
The driver’s side airbag exploded from the steering wheel and ricocheted off my face. It pummeled me harder than a punch in the nose. My skull shot back into the headrest as the car slid onto its side. Sparks of metal danced in the street as the car skidded into the trees. The roof dented inward, pinning Cait’s head between it and the seat.
My vision faded in and out, and the throbbing in my head was so severe I was sure that something foreign had been imbedded under my scalp. I fought to keep my eyes open. I had to help Cait. I had to get us out of there.
As I looked in her direction, all I could see was a blurred abstract of her frame. Cuts on her face from the shattered windows slowly dribbled blood down her cheeks. It was hard to tell if she was breathing. Her eyes were closed, and I couldn’t hear her breath. All I could hear was a high-pitched ringing throughout my head.
She hung in her seat like an unconscious soldier dangling from a tree in his parachute. She was completely unaware and unresponsive to the dire state we were in. I could see the tips of the trees from outside her window, and a few puffy white clouds that slowly blew by. The bright morning was becoming dull and dark, as if black paint was being brushed over my eyes.
I mustered all the strength I had in my body to try to free Cait, but my limbs felt encased in cement. I was trapped in this car. We were trapped in this car. My arms and legs were completely useless. A wave of nausea coursed through my stomach as my head tipped to the side. Just before my vision went pitch black, I saw a pair of legs covered in navy blue overalls walking toward the car. I let out a low breath as my lungs and heart went still, and the darkness consumed my eyes.
CHAPTER | TWENTY
A JARRING CHILL IN the air crept up my spine as my eyes slowly opened. I winced at the constant throbbing in the back of my head, and I blinked my vision into focus. Slowly, the cold, damp room came into view. A single light bulb hung perfectly still. It wasn’t bright enough to reach all four corners of the room, but I didn’t need light to know where I was. The putrid mildew smell, the chillingly cold air, and the familiar cement walls told me everything I needed to know.
I reached down and felt my ankle. It was the confirmation I needed for this palpable situation. Wrapped around my ankle, binding me to this basement, was a steel cuff—much like the one around my ankle one year ago. I rested my head against the cement wall as I came to terms with the realization.
My chest ached as my lungs expanded, and I opened my mouth to breathe more air. The bridge of my nose pulsed in unison with the throbbing in my head. I brushed my fingertips under my nostrils. Hardened and congealed blood had set into my upper lip. I was able to breathe from only one nostril, a clear indication of a broken septum. No doubt a casualty from the airbag.
As I looked around the room, I noticed the wall across from me. The same articles about the Faceless Killer that resided there a year ago were still on display. As improbable as it was for those articles to be there, I knew why they were there. Crime Scene had taken everything in this room when they collected evidence last year, but if Abram had Lathan’s case files, he could have easily put the articles back on the wall.
The mementos in the room were here on purpose. Abram wanted to recreate that night. And he needed me in order to do it.
I had fallen directly into his trap.
This was exactly where he wanted me to be: shackled to the same wall that Lathan had cuffed me to. The easy access into his house, the lack of a password on his computer... all part of his plan to get me here. His manifesto on the bookcase, the phone call demanding I come here… all so that I would willingly drive to Mirror Woods—where he could run us off the road.
Us.
Cait and me.
A burst of adrenaline shot through my veins as I frantically scanned the room for any sign of Cait. The edges of the space were too dark to see if she was here, but I knew better than to think she’d be propped in a corner. I knew why Abram wanted Cait with me: so that she could play the part of Rachel.
Lathan had shackled Rachel by the staircase, and I knew that’s where Abram would have Cait. I stared in the direction of the stairs and sat very still as hope filled my heart. I begged to hear any sound that Cait may be down here with me—and, even more, that she was still alive.
The single bulb’s light spread to the staircase, but the stillness of the air offered no resolve regarding Cait’s whereabouts. If she was alive, her breath was too shallow to hear.
“Cait,” I whispered, but I was greeted by silence. “Cait,” I called again as I crawled closer to the staircase. My journey was quickly cut short when the cuff around my ankle tightened. I looked back at the shimmering metal vice as it mocked my attempt to break free.
A flash of the car crash invaded my vision, and I remembered the look on Cait’s face as we were struck. There was no doubt that Abram was the cause of that crash. It was his way of rendering us helpless in order to bring us to this goddamn house. I couldn’t tell if Cait was breathing when Abram hit us from the side. If she was, Abram would have brought her here too. I just had to find her.
And I clung to that belief like a magnet to metal. I needed to believe Cait was alive. If she wasn’t, her death was on my hands. I was the one who fooled her into coming here. I had blindly taken her to Mirror Woods. And if this was where she met her end, then I was the one who drove her to it. Whatever happened to Cait was my fault.
I sank back as I looked up the staircase. If Abram was here, I didn’t want him to know I was awake. He had me in this basement for a reason. If he really wanted me dead, he would have killed me already. I knew he had different plans for me, and those plans required my being alive.
I reached back to pry the cuff open, but it was like trying to snap a tree trunk in half. The cold metal embedded itself into my skin as I tried to break it open. If I was going to get out of this cuff, I was going to need a key. Or something flat enough to pry the lock open.
The underwire in my bra. That worked the last time. I felt under my breast, but my bra was gone. There was nothing between my shirt and skin. Abram must have taken it. I swallowed back the sickening thought of Abram reaching under my shirt, touching my bare skin. Lathan hadn’t sexually assaulted his victims, and there was no evidence to prove the Casting Call Killer had either, but the thought of Abram working his fingers against the metal clasp felt just as violating. And, what’s worse, I wasn’t going to be able to make a DIY key out of underwire this time.
There were so many ways Abram could have known how I’d gotten myself out of the cuffs last year: Rachel’s book, the reports in Lathan’s files, the records kept on the department’s server. It was also possible that Rachel had told Abram herself. I could only imagine how many times Rachel had told Abram the story of her captivity—under the impression her boyfriend was lending a sympathetic ear, but really for his own debauched amusement.
Lathan had thought to check my pockets for anything I could use to break the chains open, but that didn’t mean Abram did. I dragged my hands over my pant
s pockets. They were completely smooth to the touch. The pockets inside my blazer were also empty. My gun, cell phone, and badge were missing too.
I sat back against the cement wall and took a deep breath through my mouth. I had to remain calm. Controlling the situation was the only weapon I had at this point.
Abram may have been able to move me—and hopefully Cait—to this house without being detected, but there was no way he would have been able to clean up the mess from the accident, or to move the car without someone seeing him. Mirror Woods was deserted in the early to late morning, but by mid-afternoon, it was a hotspot for hikers and nature enthusiasts.
Someone would see the wrecked vehicle and report it to the police. Once the officer ran the plates, it would come up that the car was registered to our department. Flu would remember that was the car I had driven to Abram’s this morning. He would think it was rather suspicious that the car I was driving was found in Mirror Woods but I was nowhere in sight. He knew the Casting Call Killer was a copycat of the Faceless Killer. It was only a matter of time before Flu figured it out and checked this house. I just had to wait.
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