Four (Count to Ten Book 4)

by Jane Blythe

  So, she’d told him to go. That they were over and done with. That she never wanted to see him again. That she hated him.

  And she’d meant it. Then.

  Now, however, she wasn't so sure what she wanted.

  “Laura, I'm the first to admit that what I did was stupid and selfish and that I hurt you terribly, but I loved you then and I love you now. I want you back.”

  It annoyed her that hearing him say that had her heart all fluttering. “Even if I still loved you, and even if I could learn to trust you again, it doesn’t matter; I'm not the same person that I was back then. Once you spend a little time around me, you'll realize that. You'll realize that I'm not what you want. I can't go outside, I can't be touched, I suffer from insomnia and nightmares and flashbacks. I'm not really relationship material.”

  “That’s not true, angel,” Jack challenged. “Last night you crawled into my lap and cried in my arms. You opened up to me. You let me try taking you outside, granted that was a mistake, but you let me try it. I'm still in love with you, Laura. I know everything that you’ve been through and I still want you. I want to help you through this.”

  “I like to be alone,” she stated, but even she could hear the lack of conviction in her voice.

  “No, you're trying to punish yourself—that’s not the same thing as wanting to be alone,” Jack told her firmly. “You were all alone out there in the woods, and for some ridiculous reason, you blame yourself because you couldn’t fight off two men twice your size, and add to that you were injured, so your chances of escape were even further diminished. You felt helpless and scared and all alone and now you want to punish yourself because you couldn’t get over it in five minutes. I don’t care how long it takes you to work through it, I'm here for the long haul.”

  The thought of not being alone was enticing, and yet Laura couldn’t even contemplate getting better. She just didn’t have the strength to do it. Even for Jack. All she wanted was just to climb into bed and sleep and never get up again. She didn’t want to spend another day trapped in this living nightmare of fear and helplessness and utter despondency. Life just wasn't worth living if all you were doing was simply existing.

  With her bed too far away for her exhausted body to reach, Laura sought the next best thing. Or perhaps, if she were honest, her overburdened mind and body sought the one thing it really wanted. Crawling into Jack’s lap, Laura just closed her eyes and rested.

  * * * * *

  11:46 P.M.

  “You should go on home, Rose,” Jack told his partner. “No point in us both being a wreck tomorrow.”

  “Are you going home? Or to Laura’s?” his partner asked.

  “Neither.” Jack shook his head. “We can't have long left before he makes his big play to get her. He hasn’t done anything in a couple of days, which means our time is running out. I'm going to stay here for a while and work through people from her past.”

  Jack wasn't just worried about Laura’s physical well-being. If they didn’t get this man soon, he was also extremely concerned about her psychological well-being. She was shutting down. Giving up.

  Although, ironically, the more she shut down, the more she lowered her defenses and the more she began to lean on him.

  Despite her declarations at lunch that they had never really been in love, and even if they were it wouldn’t work out because she was too messed up, she had once again come into his arms for comfort. It had been hard to leave her to come back to work. In fact, he wouldn’t have left her had it not been for such a good cause.

  “Francis Garrett said something that intrigued me,” Rose was saying.

  “Yeah?” After his lunch with Laura, he and Rose had made the six-hour round trip back out to the prison to speak with Francis, hoping they’d have more luck with the younger brother than they'd had with the older. They hadn’t. Francis Garrett was very different from his brother. He was a pure psychopath. He enjoyed inflicting pain on others and did so without an ounce of empathy or remorse.

  “When you were asking Francis whether Laura was his and Frank’s first victim, he said no she wasn't their first victim, the way he said it made it sound like the brothers had done this before, but whoever brought Laura to them hadn’t.”

  He nodded. “Which could explain why he was so non-hands on with her, be took her there but he didn’t do anything, except perhaps rape her while she was still unconscious.”

  “Which means he had to know the Garretts well enough to know what Frank and Francis were doing and to take someone to them that he was angry with because he knew what they’d do to her. Where are we on relatives?” Rose asked.

  “Humphrey Garrett, their father, was an only child, both parents deceased, and he was raised the same way he raised his boys. Their mother disappeared when the boys were young, we don’t know what happened to her after that. The mother had four brothers, so it’s going to take us a while to get through them all,” he replied. “You're not going to go home, Rose?” He repeated his earlier question. He’d already kept his partner up late last night because of Brian’s doctor’s appointment that the whole family attended together, and he didn’t want to keep her out late two nights in a row.

  “I'm staying,” she assured him. “We’ve got to get that girl of yours safe.”

  “Thanks.” He shot her a grateful smile. “What about if you go through the Garretts’ relatives, and I’ll go through people from Laura’s college days, since I'm more likely to be able to pick out people Laura may have connected with.”

  For the next couple of hours, they worked away in silence. Jack went through the list of students who had taken classes with Laura, checking for any with criminal records who stood out, but the problem was their killer didn’t seem to have a record. Which meant not only did he not show up in any of their databases, but he was probably also extremely adept at fitting in. He’d be the kind of person that when his friends and family found out what he’d done, they’d all be saying they were so surprised because he was such a good and kind man.

  Rose yawned and looked up from her computer. “Okay, Jack, I think we should call it a night. I can hardly keep my eyes open, it’s nearly two o’clock, and we don’t want to miss something because we’re both exhausted.”

  “Yeah, okay,” he reluctantly agreed just as his phone rang. Hoping it was Laura, he snatched it up. “Hello?”

  “Jack, it’s Belinda, you better get over to Laura’s building immediately,” his boss’ anxious voice came down the line.

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  At his tense tone, Rose paused in gathering up her belongings to listen in to his side of the conversation.

  “A call just came in reporting a bomb in her building.”

  The air seemed to leave his lungs in a rush. “He’s trying to force her hand.” Jack thought he said it aloud, but maybe he only thought it.

  “Jack, will she leave her apartment if the cops on her door ask her to?” Belinda was asking

  “No.” He grabbed his keys and gestured for Rose to follow him. “She’s probably only going to open her door for me. And if she lets me in, and that’s still a big if, I'm going to have to drag her out. I’ll call her from the car, Rose and I are on our way.”

  “What was that all about?” Rose asked as they headed for the car.

  “He put a bomb in Laura’s building,” he answered quickly, already dialing Laura’s number.

  “Jack?” her groggy voice answered after only a couple of rings.

  “Laura, I don’t want you to panic,” he began, trying to keep his own panic in check.

  “What’s wrong?” her voice bordered on shrill, as, of course, she panicked.

  “I need you to let the cops outside your door take you outside,” he ordered.

  “What? No,” she protested immediately.

  “Laura, he put a bomb in your building, you have to get out,” he explained. Whether she liked it or not he was taking her out of that apartment.

  “No, Jack
, no, I can't,” she babbled hysterically.

  “I'm going to be there soon, okay?” He tried to soothe her. “I’ll take you outside myself. But you have to open the door for me as soon as I get there. Promise me, Laura,” he insisted.

  “Promise,” she all but sobbed.

  “All right, angel, try to prepare yourself, I’ll be there in maybe fifteen minutes.”

  “Think she’s going to let you in?” Rose asked as he hung up.

  “I honestly don’t know,” he replied.

  The drive to Laura’s apartment was the longest, most stressful fifteen minutes of his life. The scene in her street was like something out of a movie. Cop cars and fire trucks littered the street. People were evacuating, streaming away from the building in question, chattering, mostly animatedly, although a few looked more grumpy than interested.

  Leaving the car, they sprinted for the building, where they were stopped by a cop they didn’t know. “Sorry, no one’s allowed to enter this building,” he informed them.

  Explaining as quickly as he could without being rude, “We’ve been working the crimes that have been happening in the building. The victim the guy who planted the bomb is really after is still in here.”

  The cop nodded. “Yeah, someone explained the whole thing to me, apparently she won't come out of her apartment.”

  “She’s agoraphobic,” Jack informed him. “She should open her door for me, though.”

  Eyeing him shrewdly, he asked, “You her boyfriend?”

  How Jack wished he could say yes to that. “We’re old friends.”

  “You got a couple of minutes. I got a battering ram being brought in. Given her condition and what she’s been through, I don’t want to traumatize her, but getting her out before this building blows is my top priority, and I only got another twenty minutes left on the timer.”

  “He set a timer?”

  “Yeah, it was the ticking that attracted the attention of the guy who found it.”

  “How many floors are evacuated already?” Rose asked.

  “Pretty much everything,” the cop told them.

  “All right, we’ll go get Laura.” Jack was already running for the stairs, reaching her door in record time. “Laura, it’s Jack, let me in,” he hammered on her door.

  “No.”

  “Laura, I am not leaving this building without you,” he warned. “If you stay here until it explodes, then I'm going to be right here with you.” Jack thought it was best not to mention that the police were going to forcibly break down her door and remove her if she didn’t come with him, no need to stress her more.

  “Jack, no, go, get out.”

  “Then open up and let me grab you,” he bargained.

  “Jack, I can't,” she whimpered. “I'm sorry.”

  “Laura, open the door now,” he instructed sternly.

  A moment later, it opened and Laura’s petrified face peered back at him. He didn’t have time to reassure her or soothe her fears; her safety was the priority right now. Grabbing her, he threw her over his shoulder and he, Rose, and the cops who’d stayed by Laura’s door, all headed back downstairs.

  In the foyer, Jack froze.

  Something felt wrong.

  Why would the killer, who’d gone to so much effort to grab Laura, risk blowing her up in an explosion?

  He wouldn’t.

  He had been watching her. He had to know that she was agoraphobic and that he’d have to play it big to get her out of her apartment. He had to also know there was a chance she couldn’t come out.

  The bomb had to just be a distraction. Simply a way to force her outside and then grab her unnoticed in the chaos created by the evacuation.

  “Why did you stop?” Rose demanded.

  “He’s out there, waiting for her,” he explained.

  “You think the bomb’s just another game?” Rose asked.

  “Yes, let’s get her to the car and away from here.” Jack adjusted Laura so she’d be more comfortable, sliding her down so he could cradle her in his arms, rather than having her draped over his shoulder. “Just hold on, angel,” he said softly, “we’re about to go outside, but I’ll get you someplace safe as soon as I can.”

  While Rose quickly explained to the captain of the bomb squad what they believed was going on, Jack stepped out into the warm night. And almost immediately, the night erupted into confused bedlam.

  Bullets began to whiz through the air.

  People screamed and ran for cover.

  Jack threw himself and Laura to the ground, covering her with his body.

  He’d been right.

  The killer was here.

  He’d known that they’d drag Laura out of her apartment by force and he was waiting for them.

  Rose and a couple of other cops came down beside him.

  “Jack, you two okay?” Rose had to yell to be heard through all the noise.

  “Yes. He’s shooting at her.” Jack was breathless with fear for Laura. This man wasn't going to stop until she was dead.

  “Here’re the keys to the patrol car just over there,” the cop beside him gestured and passed him a set of keys. “It’s the closest car, try to get her to it while we cover you.”

  Almost unwillingly, Jack readied himself to snatch up Laura. Half of him wanted to stay where they were. Partially hidden behind a row of bushes, with him on top of Laura, the killer couldn’t get to her. The second they moved, he could get off another shot. However, staying where they were wasn't an option. He could be wrong about the bomb, it might not be just a distraction, it could kill all of them when it exploded.

  “On three,” someone murmured. “One, two, three.”

  Grabbing Laura, who was completely limp, although from fear and not because she’d been shot, Jack suspected, he and Rose darted toward the car. The cops around them fired off shots in the direction of the shooter, and Jack was able to throw Laura in the back and dive into the driver’s seat before any more bullets were fired from the killer.

  With tires squealing, Jack maneuvered the car as quickly as he could through the crowded street. Heart racing, pulse pounding, breathing hard, Jack had to fight to focus on driving so he didn’t have an accident.

  That had been close.

  Too close.

  It wasn't until they’d gone a few streets from Laura’s building that he slowly started to calm down.

  “That was close,” Rose echoed his sentiments.

  “Yeah, it was. Hopefully, they catch him.” Surely, they had to, Jack thought. There were so many cops there and the killer was only one man; the odds were stacked firmly against him.

  But the killer wasn't one to give up that easily.

  As Jack turned a corner, the night once again erupted into gunfire.

  JULY 27th

  3:08 A.M.

  Laura couldn’t move. She seemed to have lost complete control of her body. It was like she had been turned to stone.

  “Laura, get down,” Jack screamed at her.

  Bullets continued to whizz by the car, but she was powerless to move. Then suddenly, Rose was flattening her down against the back seat.

  “Keep her down,” Jack was yelling to Rose.

  “Yeah, I got her, Jack, just focus on driving,” Rose shouted back.

  Above her, the back window shattered as a bullet pierced it, sending a million tiny glass shards raining down on her and Rose.

  Laura couldn’t believe this was happening. Just being outside her apartment was enough to send her into a blind panic, but someone had tried to blow her up, and someone was shooting at them. Her heart was beating so hard and fast, it felt like it was going to break right through her chest. She could hardly draw enough air into her lungs to keep oxygen flowing through her veins.

  She should have stayed in her apartment.

  She didn’t care if she died in a bomb explosion. Only, Jack had said he wasn't going to leave her. And she couldn’t let him die just because she didn’t care if she did.

  “I th
ink you lost them.” Rose cautiously sat up, brushing the glass off herself and Laura.

  “Laura, are you hurt?” Jack demanded.

  She was unable to make her voice work. And she was unsure how to answer that, anyway.

  Rose’s hands were on her, quickly skimming her body in search of injuries. “She’s okay. She’s just in shock.”

  “Because we took her out of her apartment,” Jack murmured.

  “Well, we can't take her back there now, so I hope you have a plan.” Rose let out a deep breath, calming herself.

  “Yeah, I know where we’ll take her; she should be safe there until we can figure out who’s after her,” Jack replied.

  “You were right, he was watching us, waiting for us to deliver her right to him.”

  Tuning out their voices, Laura tried desperately to calm herself. She was still lying across the back seat where Rose had pushed her. Her eyes had been clenched shut ever since Jack had thrown her over his shoulder and carried her from her apartment, and she pressed her face against the smooth seat and tried to imagine that she was safely tucked up in her own bed. She pictured her soothing blue walls, her warm cozy feather quilt snuggled around her. She had spent months making that colorful patchwork quilt. It reminded her that before her abduction, her life had been bright and happy.

  “Jack, are we almost wherever it is we’re going? Laura is shaking like a leaf.” Rose’s voice cut through her panicked fog.

  “Laura, honey,” Jack’s voice was soothing, “we’re almost there, okay? Try to concentrate on your breathing, try to slow it down. Just hang in there a minute more, then I’ll get you back inside.”

  It didn’t matter, anyway. Going back inside wasn’t going to make things better. They could never go back to the way they’d been before. Jack and Rose had shattered her carefully constructed protective little bubble.

  “I’m going to call and see what's going on at the apartment building, see if anyone got anything on the shooter. I’ll meet you inside,” Rose announced once the car stopped.

  “Hey, angel,” Jack was suddenly beside her, stroking her hair. “Let’s get you inside.” He gently gathered her into his arms and lifted her from the car and almost immediately, Laura felt herself begin to calm. She was still shaking, still struggling to draw a decent breath, but she’d regained control of her limbs, and wrapped her arms tightly around Jack’s neck, clinging to him. For some reason, Jack seemed to possess the ability to make her feel safe.