Shattered

by Cynthia Eden

  So had Sarah.

  “Impressive,” Emma murmured. “Guess you still do use a few of my tricks.”

  Sarah knew that Emma’s father—a man who’d pretended to be psychic—had trained his daughter to be extra observant. Sarah hadn’t realized that Jax had picked up some of Emma’s habits. Those habits sure could come in handy.

  It was Detective West who turned and gave the orders to his men so that they could fan out and search.

  Cross kept staring at their group. Then he muttered, “Captain said I had to let your team in on the search. I don’t like having civilians out here . . .”

  Gabe was an ex-SEAL and Dean was former FBI. Those two men hardly counted as civilians. And for Sarah, well, she’d worked plenty of cases that had taken her into nightmare situations.

  As for Emma and Jax . . . well, Emma was part of LOST now and Jax . . . I think the guy can hold his own anywhere.

  “Get suited with vests,” Cross said as he pointed toward the police cruisers. “No weapons. We can’t give you those. So you’re going in unarmed.”

  Then he focused on Sarah. “You’re the expert here, right? The one who knows what the killer is thinking?”

  Most days.

  “What’s he thinking now?”

  She tilted her head back to stare up at the buildings. “If he’s already spotted us, then he’s trying to decide if he should kill Molly or if he should just run.”

  Cross swore. “Why not just kill her and run?”

  “Because Molly hasn’t begged to die yet.”

  “Uh, what?”

  Sarah smiled. “If she hasn’t begged, then that means we have time.” She hurried toward the cruiser. The uniformed cop was already pulling out vests for her team. Sarah suited up. We have time. As long as Molly kept fighting.

  Because this jerk is playing by my father’s rules. And that scared her because . . . I thought I was the only one who knew about the way his victims’ last few moments ended.

  MOLLY HADN’T BEGGED for death. The bitch was covered in slices. He’d cut her deep, but she wouldn’t beg.

  He could smell the river—and her blood. The two scents mingled around him as he stared at the tip of his blade. It was a dark red now, thanks to Molly. “I can end it all for you. Just like he ended it for your mother. All you have to do . . . is ask.” Ask me nicely, Molly. Beg me to do it.

  But Molly’s lips were clamped shut. She had tear tracks on her face. Her skin was ashen. And the bitch wasn’t talking.

  He whirled away from her. The monitors on his right were blank. After the fire, they’d shut down. He’d had that signal bouncing right to him.

  And . . . signals. Fucking signals! He realized right then the mistake he’d made.

  He grabbed for Molly’s phone. He’d been so pissed to learn that Sarah had escaped. He’d called the shrink and she’d fed him bullshit about proof of life. He knew that now . . . bullshit. “You were tracing my signal,” he muttered as he threw that phone against the wall. Stupid, stupid mistake. Rage had led him to that mistake. It was just . . .

  Sarah should have burned. Her beautiful skin should have melted, leaving her as ugly and scarred on the outside as he knew she was on the inside, and Molly should have begged. They weren’t following the plan. They weren’t doing what they were supposed to do! He’d set everything up. Worked so hard . . .

  And it was all unraveling. He put the palms of his hands against his eyes. “They’re going to come now, Molly. Time’s up.”

  “They’ll . . . find you,” Molly whispered.

  Oh, that was cute. He turned toward her. Smiled. “No, sweetheart. They’re going to find you.” But that, too, had been part of his plan.

  He’d just wanted to hear her beg first. She’d been supposed to beg. He was the one who was strong. She knew that. Beg me!

  But time was running out. He stalked toward her. Put the knife right over her heart. Molly was on the floor, sprawled. Still trapped in the remnants of the chair. He’d checked her rope, made sure it was too tight for her to slip away. Molly didn’t get to escape.

  She had a part to play first.

  “Do you want to go fast?” he asked as he tilted his head. “Or do you want to bleed out slowly?” Of course, the plan was for her to go slowly. For her to live just long enough to talk with Sarah or the cops. To tell them . . .

  Who I am.

  She spat on him. Right in his face. His rage exploded. He hit her, hard, punching her.

  Molly screamed.

  SARAH HAD JUST been about to enter Warehouse 508 when she heard the scream. Her head jerked to the left, to the building just a few feet away. All of the warehouses in this stretch were old, appearing abandoned. The businesses had closed up and the places had become virtual graveyards.

  A perfect spot for a killer.

  But there was so much area to cover there . . . So much . . .

  “She’s screaming,” Sarah said as she whirled and hurried toward the building on the left—it looked like an old clothing factory. She could just make out the faded sign on the side of the building. “She’s close.” That scream had seemed to echo back to her. “Come on!”

  Detective Brent West was running with her, and he had his gun drawn. Jax was right behind her.

  “NO CHOICE?” HE demanded. He’d busted Molly’s lip. Blood dripped down her chin. “How about I choose for you?” Because she had to go slowly. Had to live long enough for the great Sarah Jacobs to rush in . . .

  But then an alarm sounded. A little safety measure he’d installed so that he’d know if any visitors tried to get too close to little Molly Guthrie.

  “No.” He backed away from Molly. Saw the red light flickering. They’re in the building. “No!” He wasn’t ready for them, not yet. He rushed to the window and looked out. Cop cars were out there, too many of them. The cops were fanning the street and searching and someone was in his building already.

  Someone was coming for Molly.

  Was it Sarah? Was she there? It didn’t matter. He’d left some surprises around the area. Those surprises . . . oh, they’d be going off very soon. Maybe Sarah would be getting those lovely scars, after all.

  Hadn’t the cops and that LOST team learned anything that day? Some lessons just had to be repeated, again and again . . . until the point took root.

  There were lots of buildings there. Lots of doors that could be opened.

  Lots of places that would just go . . . boom.

  “Did you choose, Molly?” he murmured. Molly had been so quiet. He turned back around.

  Molly wasn’t on the ground anymore. She was standing up, and she had a broken chunk of the chair in her hand. “Yeah . . . I did.” She swung that wood at him.

  The little bitch.

  IT SOUNDED LIKE thunder. A deep, horrible rumble of thunder that made the ground shake. Sarah froze at the sound but Detective West whirled toward her. “What the hell is that?”

  Jax had his hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I can smell smoke,” he said.

  So could Sarah.

  They ran back out and Sarah saw the fire, coming from Warehouse 508. There were shouts and screams and—fire.

  “He set another one to blow,” Jax said.

  Sarah’s gaze darted at the row of buildings, now looking even more like cemetery headstones to her as she stared at them. “Call your men back,” she ordered the detective. “He’s got the buildings rigged!” Some of them? All of them? Sarah didn’t know. They needed the bomb squad in there before they could search.

  And that means Molly loses time. He did this . . . to stop us. So he could finish with her and escape.

  Or maybe the guy had thought Sarah would be the one racing in first. And he’d done this because he just wanted to hurt her.

  Fire . . . it’s about fire to him.

  But as far as Sarah knew, her father had never used fire on any of his victims. He’d preferred the intimate touch of a knife.

  A man was burning. A cop who’d just come out of t
he blazing warehouse. Jax ran to the guy, tackled him, and they rolled, tumbling around until those flames were out.

  Sarah couldn’t see Gabe or Dean or Emma. The smoke was getting too thick. Detective West was on his radio, ordering everyone to fall back. Sarah pulled her out phone and called Gabe. Answer, answer . . .

  Hell, now she knew exactly how Jax had felt when he’d been trying to get her at the earlier scene.

  “Sarah? What’s happening? The cops—”

  “He’s got more explosives set. Stay back!” Sarah said.

  Another cop had just run from the burning warehouse. He was staggering when he burst out of that smoke-filled interior.

  Sarah spun around. Her heart was racing as chaos erupted. Molly was so close. Sarah knew she was close.

  And if we wait for the bomb squad to come, Molly’s dead.

  HE GRABBED THE wood—looked like the arm of a chair—in his right hand. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”

  He yanked that wood away from Molly. She’d lost so much blood . . . she was no match for him.

  “I think . . . you’re the devil,” Molly whispered. Then she opened her mouth and screamed. Loud and long and—

  “I’m still alive!”

  She wasn’t begging for death. She should have begged. Now he’d make sure she suffered every single moment that she had left.

  He drove the knife into her side.

  “Not for long, you aren’t,” he promised her.

  “I’M STILL ALIVE!”

  That scream had been so terrifyingly close. Detective West was helping the wounded officers and Jax was pulling a man from the smoky building.

  They hadn’t even heard the scream. Sarah had been the only one to hear Molly.

  It’s a trap. She knew it. It had to be a trap but . . .

  If I leave her now, she’s dead.

  Sarah took a tentative step toward that building on the left—the old clothing warehouse. When she got inside, it could explode on her, too.

  No, sweetheart. No one is screaming. No one at all. Her father’s voice seemed to creep through her mind.

  “Molly is screaming,” Sarah said. “I hear her.” Then she took a deep breath and she ran toward that second building. Ran as fast as she could.

  Because if the killer is inside, he won’t have set the bombs to kill himself. It will be safe. It will be safe . . .

  Maybe.

  JAX HAD NEVER thought he’d see the day when he was saving a cop’s life. Not just one cop, two. “Remember this shit,” he muttered to the guy he’d just dragged out of the fire. “You owe me.”

  Then Jax looked up, searching for Sarah. He wanted to get her back in case those flames spread. But she wasn’t standing near the dock. His heart slammed against his chest as he rushed forward. “Sarah?”

  He turned to the left. Only saw cops scrambling.

  To the right.

  He saw Detective Brent West. That dick Cross had joined the guy. They had a uniformed cop between them, and they were helping the guy get clear of Warehouse 508.

  Jax ran to them. “Where’s Sarah?”

  Brent blinked at him. “With . . . you?”

  Would he be asking the damn question if she was with him?

  “Where did you see her last?” Jax demanded.

  But Brent just looked confused. “She was behind me . . . I think . . . but then I went to help the men out of that fire . . .”

  Jax had gone into the blaze, too. Was that where Sarah was? He hoped to hell not. The place had been an inferno moments before, seemingly seconds away from the whole building collapsing. But if Sarah was in there . . .

  He rushed back toward the fire.

  Then . . . stopped.

  Fuck. Slow down . . . think. He yanked out his phone, but the thing had melted. He dropped it, swearing when it singed his fingers. He’d gone into the fire before. He hadn’t seen Sarah in there. He and Brent had been helping the cops.

  Who went to help Molly?

  Because the fire was a distraction. He recognized that. Like booby-traps in their path. And Sarah had been going to the second building before the explosion had rocked the dock.

  The second warehouse . . . a building that hadn’t been touched by the fire, not yet.

  He turned toward that building.

  Stared up at the second floor.

  “We need to get out of here!” It was Cross who shouted at him. “We have to create a safe perimeter and get the hell back!”

  But he wasn’t getting back, not without Sarah. He started running toward the second warehouse.

  Jax didn’t get far. He was grabbed from behind. “What are you doing?” Cross snarled. “You go in there and the whole place could blow!”

  He’d noticed that the door was open there. As if someone had gone in . . . Sarah? Had she broken in or had the guy she was after left that door open? “I’m going after Sarah.”

  “No.” Cross shook his head. “We’re getting out of here. If I let a civilian burn, even an asshole like you, I’m done.”

  Like the guy really gave a shit about Jax or anyone else. Jax knew the things Cross had done . . . both before and after becoming a cop. Some sins don’t vanish. And you’re already done, buddy. “Let me go,” Jax told him. It was the only warning he planned to give the guy.

  “No,” Cross said, his hold tightened on Jax. “You might have a death wish, but it’s not happening on my watch, not again—”

  “Jax?” That was Gabe, shouting and running toward them.

  Cross glanced over at him.

  “Jax, where’s Sarah?” Gabe called out. “She said to get back . . . but I don’t leave my team behind.”

  Sarah wasn’t with Gabe. She’s in the second building. She needs me!

  Jax slammed his head into the cop’s. Cross howled, but the guy let Jax go. Jax didn’t hesitate. He ran right for that second building, the old clothing warehouse. Cross yelled after him. Telling him to come back—

  But Jax just ran faster and he roared, “Sarah!”

  SARAH’S FEET THUDDED up the stairs. The main door had been unlocked, open and ready for her, and she wished that she had a weapon. Something to use because . . .

  He’s in here.

  She hadn’t heard any other screams from up above. She prayed that didn’t mean Molly was dead. Not when she was so close to the other woman. Not when she could actually save her.

  Sarah burst onto the landing on the second floor. She looked to the left, to the right. When they’d been on the phone, the man had gone up to the steps, then seemed to be immediately with Molly.

  A door was just a step away. Sarah rushed toward the door, then stopped.

  Was it rigged to blow? When she opened it, would that be the end for her and Molly? Dammit. Her hands clenched into fists and Sarah didn’t take another step forward. “Molly!” Sarah cried out. “Molly, are you there?”

  Sarah could hear the crackle of flames from the building next door, but she didn’t hear Molly crying out. She didn’t hear the other woman at all.

  “Molly?” Sarah tried again.

  Nothing.

  She had to get in that room. She had to—

  “Sarah!” The bellow of her name came from downstairs. Then she heard the thud of footsteps. She knew it was Jax, rushing after her. She also knew that if he got to the top of the stairs . . .

  He’ll take me away from Molly. Because he would think like she did. That it was a trap.

  “Stay down there!” Sarah yelled. Then she didn’t go straight to that door. “Stay back!” She rushed down the hall and there—yes!—there was another door. This one was ajar. She could peer inside and see that the room was empty. She slipped through that open doorway without so much as touching the door, and fate was definitely on her side then because the room she was inside connected to the room immediately next door.

  And she could see the crumpled form of a woman, lying on the floor of that connecting room.

  Sarah ran to her. “Molly!”


  Molly was lying in a pool of blood. The woman’s eyes were closed and her face was chalk white.

  Sarah felt for a pulse. It was there. So weak. So incredibly thready—

  “Sarah!” Now her name was a desperate roar. Jax was close. Her head whipped up and she stared at the door—the door she’d almost opened. And Sarah saw the bomb there. It was wired, as she’d feared. When the door opened, it would blow.

  “No!” Sarah yelled back. “Don’t touch the door! It’s wired! Stay back!” Because if he opened that door, they were all dead.

  She looked down at Molly’s body. Sarah put her hands over the woman’s side, trying to apply pressure and staunch that terrible flow of blood. She was bleeding out so quickly . . .

  The blood stained the tiles. At first, it hurt but then . . .

  Then I didn’t feel anything.

  “Molly, I need you to stay with me.” Sarah shoved the memories of her own past away. “You’re still alive. You made it, now just keep fighting a little longer, okay?”

  “Sarah, how the fuck did you get in there?” Jax called out.

  Molly’s blood seeped through her fingers.

  “The second door. Down on the right. It connects.” But then Sarah shook her head. “No, Jax, don’t come in! Go get help! She needs a doctor!”

  “Like I’m leaving you.”

  Her head turned to see Jax striding toward her. He’d come through the second entrance, just like she had.

  “The police have cleared out the area. Until the fire’s out, no one else is getting back here.” He knelt on the floor next to her and he swore. “Baby, she’s not going to make it.”

  “Yes, she is.” Sarah glared at him. “If you won’t bring a doctor, then help me get her out of here!” Because Sarah was not leaving that room without Molly.

  Jax stared at the other woman a moment, then gave a grim nod. He slid his hands under Molly’s body and lifted her carefully.

  But Molly didn’t make a sound.

  “Where is he, Sarah?” Jax asked.

  Her breath caught. “I don’t know.” Molly had been the only one in that room, but there were several floors in that old building. The guy could be there, hiding.