Trix

by Kate Morris

  “Hardly. And it isn’t five miles, either,” she said and turned back to Craig. “Ready?”

  Craig looked over her head at Jack, sighed, and then nodded in acquiescence. “We better get going then. And, Evans, I’m going with you two to this meeting with him.”

  “I assumed as much,” she said as she stood and slung her pack.

  They drove to Kovak’s second home in Craig’s sedan. Craig drove but took two calls on the way. Jack was uneasy, not from the search on Kovak’s house but because of their impending meeting with Trix. The man was a psychopath. Would Basil Kovak be waiting on Lorena on that hiking path? Or Christof Neumann?

  “This isn’t much of a house,” Lorena remarked as they pulled off the road and down the rutted gravel driveway toward a small cabin.

  “Not what I’d call a retreat, but to each their own,” Craig said and parked the car next to one of the many black sedans already there.

  “Did he get served the searches yet?” Jack asked.

  “Oh, yeah. Guess it didn’t go too pretty, if you know what I mean. I doubt he knows we’re up here yet because he’d be here before he’d be at his other house with the wife and kids.”

  “This place is creepy,” Lorena said as she got out.

  Jack took a deep breath and joined her. She was right. It was dusk, the sun setting, a fog moving in, and the overgrown vegetation that had never been manicured was nearly as high as her waist as they walked toward the cabin together. It was more of a shack held together with a few nails and a rusty metal roof. There was a shed behind it, probably twenty feet wide by forty feet long and covered in the same weather-worn wood and roofing.

  Craig flashed his badge, and they were admitted into the dwelling. Jack took in his surroundings. A small metal dinette set with two matching chairs with faded, green vinyl-covered seats rested in the middle of the room, a single bulb hanging down over it. In the corner was a bed, a cot really without sheets or blankets. It looked dirty and stained. A wood-burning stove in the corner must’ve been the winter heat source if he visited during the colder months. There was a hallway that led to two more small bedrooms that didn’t contain furniture. Agents and techs were scouring the place with fine-toothed combs. Everyone wanted to find something that would help lead them to Hailee before it was too late.

  They tried to stay out of the way while still doing their own investigation. The tiny shack was crowded with people, and he lost Lorena a few minutes into their search. He found Craig, though, who was talking to a cluster of other agents.

  “Have you seen Evans?”

  Craig answered, “Yeah, think she went out back. Hey, one of the techs saw handcuffs attached to the bed.”

  Jack nodded, frowned with disgust and left. When he got to the backyard, there were agents everywhere. Large lights were being set up in place to search the grounds around the house and barns. He spotted Lorena close to the wooded line of the property. She was looking up into the trees and being engulfed by fog.

  “Hey, partner,” he said, touching her elbow. She jumped and removed the earbuds from her ears. “Sorry. Bird watching?”

  “No, he had a place here for skinning animals, probably deer hunting, I’m assuming.”

  Jack noticed the dried blood on the tree and the remnants of a tattered cotton rope hanging down. “We’ll let the feds know anyway in case it’s not animal blood.”

  “Exactly my thoughts,” she said. “I’m headed to the barn.”

  They walked together through the thick weeds and entered the barn. Like the house, the lighting was horrible, just single bulbs hanging down the wide aisle. They had to walk around an antique tractor, a Ford from the forties, if Jack were to guess. It was definitely not in the process of being restored, and neither was the hay cutter behind it. He doubted if it even started by the looks of the unkempt property. He followed Lorena and observed things along the way like broken glass in a corner, ropes hanging down here and there with antique, rusty block and tackle pulleys on the ends. The floor was dirt, not concrete. There were two horse stalls at one end of the building that had fallen into disrepair many years ago. A hayloft above them only extended as far as about fifteen or twenty feet or so and stopped. He could hear agents walking around above them as dust fell through the cracks. Craig came in and passed them, but not before lifting his chin to Jack in acknowledgment.

  “Why buy this in his other name? Why hide it from the wife?” Lorena pondered aloud.

  “Stinks,” Jack observed, agreeing with her speculations. He knew what she was getting at. Kovak was hiding something, or someone from his other life and his family.

  Lorena kept going until they reached the other end of the barn where two wide sliding doors were open, probably done so by the agents to allow what little light was left into the dank, dusty, and very dark barn.

  “He’s smart, educated, a pillar of the community and married,” she said.

  “Perfect way to hide the fact that being a serial killer is your favorite pastime,” Jack joked. “We’d better get going. Let’s allow the feds handle this.”

  She turned, looked up at him as if she was not actually seeing him, but nodded just the same.

  This time, Lorena followed him, and they went down the other equally narrow aisle toward their exit. They passed a grain room where the floor was covered in bits of oats and corn and rodent feces and a tack room that still contained a few molded pieces of leather horse equipment. Jack walked into the small, six-by-nine room.

  “Think he owned this stuff or it was left by whoever he bought the place from?” he asked.

  “It all looks pretty old. I’m guessing he inherited this junk from the previous owner and never hauled any of it away to the dump.”

  They turned to leave the room, and the dirt floor under his left foot squeaked. Lorena quickly grabbed his arm from behind.

  “Stop!” she ordered, and he looked over his shoulder at her. “Step again, Jack.”

  He did so, rocking back on his heal, then forward, then back again. He received as a reward, the groaning of a floor that was not just dirt, after all. Their eyes met in the darkening room, and Jack spun all the way to face her. They were both thinking the same thing.

  “Floorboards,” he said and immediately squatted, Lorena following him down.

  Jack used the flat of his palm to swish away the dirt and dust and bits of straw and probably mouse droppings to reveal an old oak access door panel with a hidden, flush mounted latch. Lorena tugged on the latch, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Let me try,” he said, taking the small, brass ring in his index finger and squeezing down with his thumb to pull. After a few, hard yanks, Jack got it to open. He pried it all the way open and laid it flat on the ground to rest so that it didn’t slam shut again. “See if you can find a light switch.”

  Lorena stood and walked around the room and then outside of it, too. She came back and said, “Can’t find anything.”

  He took out his flashlight and shined it down into the hole, surprised to find a staircase. He looked up at her and got a nod. “I’ll go first, Evans.”

  She nodded nervously.

  “Don’t want you to be late for your date.”

  “At least I have one,” she said with a sneer and followed him.

  Jack stepped carefully as he descended, the treads creaking under his feet, which seemed too big for the narrowness of the steps. “Careful,” he warned Lorena.

  She also had her flashlight out and was shining it ahead of them. He could not have been more surprised. He thought they would’ve found a grain cellar or canning cellar, but no.

  “What the hell?” he asked her rhetorically.

  His flashlight’s bright beam skimmed over a switch on the wall, so Jack flipped it, illuminating the room a little better. He almost wished he hadn’t found it.

  “Jesus,” he said.

  The walls were covered in red draperies of silky and flowing fabric. The floor was still dirt, but in the middle of the room hu
ng an ornate and dramatic crystal chandelier, which was completely and totally out of place in a dingy barn. The walls also held black bookcases filled with books and jars of things and cobwebs. An antique phonograph constructed of shiny brass and polished rosewood was perched in the corner on top of an equally ornate and dust free side table.

  “Are we in the Twilight Zone?” he asked.

  “No, but we might be in the mind of a madman,” she remarked. “I think some of these specimen jars have blood in them.”

  He stepped closer to get a better look. She was right about that. There were also small, dead animals floating in suspension fluid. What appeared to be a human skull was also resting on a shelf. Human teeth were scattered around, as well.

  “Teeth over here, Evans,” he said to his partner.

  She walked closer and looked at them, “Weird.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think he was going for normal with this.”

  “No, I mean this is weird. These look like cast models of teeth, not real teeth. And the cobwebs are the fake ones they sell at Halloween”

  Jack looked at some of the book selections. “Freakin’ vampire fan.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “These books are all about Dracula, vampires, legends and blood-suckers and folklore.”

  “Our guy doesn’t suck their blood or leave puncture marks like he’s trying to be a vampire, though.”

  “No, but he is really into the teeth stealing hang-up,” he pointed out.

  “True,” she agreed as Craig called to them from above.

  He joined them and said, “Whoa. Now the shit’s getting real.”

  “Guy’s some kind of Vampire-obsessed weirdo,” Jack told their friend.

  “Must’ve read too many of those teen books…what were they?” Craig asked.

  “Twilight,” Lorena said.

  “Yeah, that one. What the hell?” he asked as he walked around taking in the sights. “It’s like a lair devoted to Romania or something.”

  “He’s Serbian. They have their vampire lore, too. There’s even a castle over there with human skulls laid right into the mortar,” Lorena informed them.

  “Only you would know that, Evans,” Jack said, getting a chuckle from Craig.

  “We’ll get this processed,” Craig said and left to find techs.

  “It’s getting late. We should go,” Lorena said to him and started for the stairs again.

  Jack grabbed her elbow to stop her. Then he released it. “You sure you want to do this? If Kovak’s our man, this is some weird shit you’re about to get yourself into, Evans.”

  “I have to,” she said, looking up at Jack.

  Her hazel eyes were bloodshot and tired from lack of sleep and being sick.

  “If it means finding this girl alive, I have to.”

  He nodded with understanding but wanted to forbid her from doing it. He had no claim on Lorena other than that she was his partner, but it didn’t stop him from worrying and didn’t stop her from being right.

  They went to the car with Craig and drove to the headquarters again. Apparently, everyone was working over-time on this because the conference room was still packed with people. He led them to the basement where their techs were hard at work on many different cases.

  “Look I could lose my job if this goes wrong,” Craig said. “But if you think this is how we’re going to catch him, then that’s fine. I’m willing to take a chance.”

  “I understand,” Lorena said.

  “But you’re wearing a wire.”

  “Oh, are you sure? I don’t want to scare him off. If he suspects I’m wired or demands to see…”

  Jack jumped in to say, “Hey, now. You aren’t stripping for this jerkoff. If he asks you to strip to check for a wire, tell him to go to hell.”

  “Plus, I wouldn’t want to scare him by taking off my clothes, either,” Lorena joked.

  Craig chuckled, but Jack said, “Yeah, I don’t exactly think that seeing you half naked is going to scare this creep off. It might be the sure-fire way to trap him, though.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Lorena lifted her shirt so that Craig’s tech could fit Lorena with a mic and recording device. Craig turned around to offer her privacy. Jack turned his back to her, as well but caught her reflection in the glass wall separating this room from the next one that had its blinds pulled. She was wearing a skimpy, sexy, lacy black and cream bra. Craig cleared his voice with discomfort, and Jack wondered if he caught the reflection, too.

  “Guys, lighten up,” she said. Then she coughed.

  “You’re right,” Jack said. “You’re hardly sexy in your current state of imminent death.”

  “Shut up, Foster,” she retorted. “Or I’ll cough my germs all over you.”

  “Your little germs don’t scare me,” he boasted, getting a laugh from Craig.

  “Wow, that’s really small,” she said.

  “Aw, now don’t go insulting Craig like that, Evans,” Jack razzed over his shoulder.

  “I thought she meant you, actually,” Craig joined in.

  “Grow up, you two,” she admonished. “I read about these. Wish we had them at the precinct.”

  “Brand new technology. Totally wireless,” the tech explained.

  “Wearing a wireless wire,” Jack said with a laugh.

  “It’s all digital now,” the tech said. “Here, I can also fit your ear for a camera.”

  “That’s even smaller,” Lorena said.

  “Yeah, but it’s mighty. It can pick up a really long-distance range. It also has audio, so we’ll be recording, too.”

  “Great,” Lorena said.

  When she was done and announced it, they sat at a table in the corner and went over the plan. To Jack, it wasn’t good enough. If their vampire-obsessed musician was the man who showed up tonight, Jack didn’t know if he should drive a stake through his heart or shoot him on the spot. Either way, Basil Kovak was right up there at the top of their suspect list. If it wasn’t him, then Lorena could be in even more trouble tonight. Basil Kovak was a soft-spoken musician, a family man with dark secrets. Jack wasn’t sure if keeping weird paraphernalia made him their killer. If Basil wasn’t Trix, then it could be a man far more dangerous and cunning. Their night could become very treacherous, and Lorena could be in real peril. Jack wouldn’t be satisfied until they had the creep in cuffs.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Lorena

  She wasn’t going to lie, not even to herself. She was scared. She sat in the back of Craig’s dark sedan with her earbuds in listening to Bach. She had to get inside her head and tune everything else out. When they came within a half mile from the hiking trail, Craig let her out. She’d walk in from here in case he spotted them with her. They didn’t want to take that chance. Well, she didn’t want to take that chance. She wanted to catch him, and if he even thought that she brought reinforcements, their meeting would be done.

  “Say something, Lorena,” Jack said, holding the listening receiver.

  “Something, something,” she quipped.

  “Funny,” Jack returned with equal sarcasm. “I’m reading her loud and clear, though.”

  “Good,” Craig said. “You guys better get moving. He’ll be here in an hour. We want to get you both in place before he arrives.”

  “Yeah,” Lorena said with nerves.

  Craig drove away with the intention of parking about a half mile from the hiking trail, just southeast where he’d be by the road. There were two agents meeting him there, friends he trusted not to tell their bosses about the operation. It made her feel just a little better knowing more people were watching out for her.

  She and Jack walked quickly, making fast progress to the start of the trail. Jack pulled her into the woods.

  “You sure about this, chief?”

  Lorena took a deep breath and said, “Yeah, I got this.”

  He nodded, but his eyes betrayed his fear. She was quite sure that hers revealed her own doubt.


  Lorena patted her pistol under her hooded anorak that she borrowed from the feds. It had the trademark yellow FBI lettering on the back of it, but it hardly mattered. Trix knew who he was meeting. He knew she was a cop working with the feds. Lorena had just needed a warmer coat. The drizzle of Oregon was starting up again. The fog was still hanging around, too, making it a fairly miserable, chilly evening. It was also pitch dark with no lunar illumination.

  “I’ve got your back,” he said and rested a hand on her shoulder.

  “I know. If I didn’t know that, I wouldn’t be doing this,” she admitted with honesty. “Gotta go. Got a date with the devil.”

  He frowned at her joke but nodded just the same. “Stay safe.”

  She gave a curt nod and turned to go. She had forty-five minutes to get to the meeting spot. Lorena flipped on her high-beam flashlight and got to it. She wanted to be there first. The path was definitely marked for hikers and clear of obstacles. She picked up the pace and jogged. Jack was tracking nearby with night-vision gear, courtesy of the FBI’s storage room full of toys and gadgets. She wasn’t surprised when he told Craig that he didn’t need help with it. Lorena was quite sure Jack had his fair share of experience with that sort of equipment during his time in the Army.

  “I’m getting closer,” she whispered. “I see a turn-off up here. I think that’s what he was talking about. I’m heading left. I think I’m almost there.”

  She kept jogging until the path became slightly unstable with fallen rocks and ruts in the ground. Lorena slowed her pace and had to climb over a large branch lying in the way. She scanned with her flashlight in a steadier, more consistent manner. A chill chased up her spine, and she swung around to shine her beam behind her. She paused, listening, peering into the darkness. Nothing moved in the shadows, so she spun back around and kept going.

  “I see the rock up ahead,” she said so that they could hear her.

  Lorena walked behind the big boulder and followed the less taken path down a hill. It was steeper than she anticipated, and she slipped. She didn’t fall, but she lost her footing for just a second, which further jarred her nerves. She was glad she had her leather boots and hadn’t needed to do this in loafers. Lorena kept going and made it to the bottom where she could hear water gurgling. It felt fatalistic. Was she going to be the next woman found dead by water, by this water?