Lost Girls: A gripping thriller that will have you hooked (Ben Forrester FBI Thrillers Book 1)

by Jon Mills

  Go! Get the hell out of here. It was the only plan that Chloe had left. She didn’t even think to grab a tool as a weapon, instead she limped up the steep wooden staircase to the top. She twisted the doorknob only to find it was locked.

  “No! No, no!” she screamed. Moving quickly, she went back down and searched around for the hammer she’d seen him using earlier. Tools and animal carcasses were scattered all over the ground. Scrambling around, she found it. She staggered back up the stairs with a new sense of purpose and determination and began beating the panels. After being held captive for all this time she wasn’t going to let a piece of wood stand in her way.

  It didn’t take long to plow a hole big enough for her hand to get through. Splinters stuck into her arm as she reached through and unlocked it from the outside. A twist of the knob and she was out.

  She hadn’t stopped for a second to think if he was on the other side. Her heart was thumping in her chest. Tears streaked her face as the strain of captivity rushed to the surface.

  Standing in a short hallway she turned to her left and right unsure of which way to go. The phone? Thirsty, she limped her way into a kitchen area. A flood of daylight from a large window burned her eyes. It was a cabin but where was it? All she could see were trees, bushes, and undergrowth outside. She twisted the tap, water rushed out and she ducked her face underneath and sucked in water until she was no longer thirsty. As she realized that she might be alone, her eyes swept the room for a phone. She moved into the small living area still gripping the hammer. She wasn’t entirely convinced that he wasn’t hiding and waiting to pounce.

  There were no phones, no lines, not even a TV. Just the basics, a couch, chair, table, and fireplace. No photos hung on the walls. A staircase led up to a second floor. Maybe there would be one there. Without knowing where she was, she wasn’t going to just flee immediately.

  Upstairs she checked the rooms. Nothing.

  She crawled forward across the landing, ready to head down when she heard the sound of spitting gravel. She froze. A sudden wall of fear hit her. In a flash she rushed to the window, panicking only to breathe a sigh of relief.

  It was a police car from Eden Falls. Dad?

  Instinctively she banged on the window but it pulled up around the side of the house. She couldn’t have made it down the stairs any faster. The desire to get away from the house and her captor was so strong that she forgot the pain in her ankle. Still clasping the hammer, she scanned the front door, then the windows for the police.

  Then something dawned on her.

  Why was there only one police car? If they had figured out where she was, wouldn’t there have been more? A SWAT team? EMS? Hell, the FBI!

  One cruiser?

  Petrified and confused she froze in place at the foot of the stairs.

  Her hand tightened around the hammer upon seeing a large figure through the opaque glass door. A key went in. The doorknob turned.

  Chapter 49

  The private property in Vassalboro was so isolated and shrouded in woodland that it was virtually impossible to land close. Ben had notified state and local police in the Vassalboro region within minutes of being up in the air. Some of the officers in Eden Falls located the chief’s residence in town and had already burst inside. Chloe wasn’t there which only led him to believe that she’d been relocated.

  The police officer who had called in for assistance when pursuing Ted Bishop had confirmed over the radio that Chief Danvers had instructed a dispatcher to get an officer over to Blackwoods Campground after a concerned camper had reported a prowler.

  There was no record of any phone call being placed from Blackwoods.

  Nate was already gathering phone records to determine communication between Danvers and the other two. The partial print pulled from Chloe’s phone had come back as not belonging to either Bishop or Adams, which also gave credence to the idea that it was likely Danvers.

  With his print, DNA pulled from the masks, phone records, and whatever they would find after, they were certain they would have enough direct physical evidence to convict him of his involvement in at least the captivity and rape of multiple victims.

  Why? That was the big question. Over his years working for the FBI and interviewing lunatics on death row, Ben had stopped asking why they did it.

  Of course he could give the psychological version. The one he taught at universities and police departments but the fact was, the mind of a predator functioned differently than that of someone with compassion for others. And so understanding them was difficult for anyone who couldn’t fathom inflicting terror on another human being.

  But to them, it was just another ordinary day.

  It was the reason why scientists wanted to examine the brains of murderers. It was the reason why psychologists probed them and wrote lengthy study papers about living in the mind of a monster. Everyone wanted to understand why. They want to boil it down into a palatable and acceptable conclusion if only to create a them-and-us mentality.

  Why did Bundy, a seemingly charming and well-educated man, kidnap, rape, and kill his victims? Even returning to their graves to have sex with their decomposed bodies?

  There was no answer — at least none that would satisfy.

  People would always come to their own conclusions. Something that would help them sleep at night and allow them to place distance between themselves and those they said were insane.

  For the truth was too terrifying to bear. Which was to accept that everyone had a darkness to them. It was just that serial killers explored it, got used to it, and then found gratification in it.

  Ben squeezed the bridge of his nose, pushing unthinkable thoughts from his mind.

  I’m coming, Chloe…. The horror of his past had come back to haunt him. Even if it wasn’t Henri Bruns. At least this time he wasn’t going in alone. He stared across at four strapping members of the SWAT team. Geared up in black, their trigger fingers resting alongside their weapons. Their faces a picture of concentration and focus.

  The AS365 Dauphin twin-engine helicopter hovered over the middle of a highway five miles from the location. Waiting below were two cruisers blocking either side of the road. As soon as the tires kissed the road, and they felt the cushion, Ben hopped out. Wind from the blades whipped at his coat as he crouched and dashed towards a waiting cruiser.

  Sirens screamed, and lights flashed as they exploded out of there. Within minutes they saw the weathered sign for the turnoff down a rural road that sliced into dense woodland and wound its way around a hilly landscape.

  He only prayed that they would make it there before it was too late.

  Chapter 50

  Chief Danvers? His eyes fell on Chloe and then on the hammer in her hand.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe now.”

  Still terrified, she took a cautionary step back.

  “Where’s my father?”

  “He’s on the way.”

  “Why are you alone?” she said, looking around him for any sign of another officer.

  There were none.

  He paused for a second as though contemplating the answer. It was enough of a hesitation to make her doubt him. Then when he didn’t reply, she swallowed hard. Her mind was telling her one thing but her gut was saying something else. He was a police officer. The chief, for god’s sake! But then Douglas was a ranger. How many of the other women had been taken in by trusting a badge?

  He motioned with his arm. “Come on, I’ll take you to your father.”

  Chloe wanted to say “you are lying” but no words came out. Her mouth opened then closed. All she could muster was a head shake.

  “Look, I know you’ve been through a lot but…”

  His words faded as her mind processed not what he was saying but the way he was saying it. There was something very familiar about the tone of his voice. Then, as he gestured again with his left arm, her eyes spotted the black tattoo of the ram on his inner wrist.

  It was him. He was
the one in the room. The man wearing the mask. At least one of them. She wanted to turn and bolt up the stairs but he had a gun. She wouldn’t have made it a few steps. No, she had to play this smart. Make him believe that she trusted him.

  “Is he out there?” she muttered, hoping to convince him that her nerves were warranted. That she feared for her life. Not from him but from Douglas. Her palms were sweating, and her throat felt dry even though she had guzzled water only minutes earlier.

  Fifteen feet away from her, his hand moved to his sidearm as he began closing the gap.

  “No, he’s not out there. Like I said, you’re safe, Chloe.”

  “Okay,” she said, her knuckles turning white as her grip tightened on the hammer’s wooden handle.

  “I just need to get something.” She turned to head back up the stairs, trying her best to remain casual, but he wasn’t buying it. He shot forward, and she stumbled trying to climb the stairs. Her shin smashed into the edge, taking her breath away. But it was too late, he had a grip on her good ankle. She tried kicking with the other foot but he blocked that fast. Her fingers raked the steps, desperately trying to pry free of his grasp, but it was useless.

  One sharp twist and she drove the hammer against the side of his head. He screamed in pain and released her.

  “You fucking bitch.”

  Chloe knew panic in its purest form in that moment. Run! she told herself. She would have moved past him if she thought there was a chance of not being shot in the back, instead she ran up the stairs. Blood pumping in her ears, searing pain coursing through her body. Behind her all she could hear was him cursing and saying what he was going to do.

  She scrambled towards the thin strand of rope that hung loosely from the attic door. Unlike most attic stairs that folded down slowly, these stairs shot down fast, almost hitting her in the drop.

  The chief’s groans of agony were mixed with bursts of rage as she heard him stagger up the stairs. Capable of only limping before, she was now shifting gears with terror fueling each step. She didn’t want to die, not like this. Not after all the trouble of getting out of that basement. It couldn’t end like this.

  The horror of not knowing if she would survive filled her with dread unlike anything she had ever experienced. He had a gun, she had a hammer.

  “Chloe!” he screamed as she pulled up the stairs behind her, hoping to prevent him from following or at least slow his pursuit. Unfortunately, there was nothing to lock it with.

  She now found herself enveloped in darkness. The only light came from a wooden attic eyebrow vent at the far end. I can get out. With adrenaline pushing her on and the sound of his voice terrifying her, she took her first step towards freedom only to lose her footing and go right through the ceiling.

  Chapter 51

  The weather was working against them. Storm clouds had unleashed such a downpour that the soil had shifted and become like quicksand. The cruiser engine roared as they burst over a rise and hydroplaned on the wet and slushy narrow road. Needle pine trees on either side of the road, instantly threatened to end them. It was hard to tell where the road began or ended as they snaked their way through the thick forest. All of it had become a slick death trap.

  “Can’t this car go any faster?” Ben shouted over the noise of the siren. It was deafening. His only hope was that Danvers would hear it and think twice. The officer driving had already been white-knuckling it, sweating and trying to see through heavy rain pounding the windshield. Ben shot a glance in the side mirror. Behind them three more cruisers and an EMS vehicle were all suffering from the same trouble as them. The waterlogged road was showing no mercy.

  “If I go any faster we are going to be in a ditch or wrapped around a tree.”

  No sooner had he said that than he lost control of the vehicle. The ABS brakes kicked in, creating a clunking sound, but there was little that could be done to stop them from certain disaster.

  Ben gripped the side of the door hard as they spun wildly out of control. Now officers were trained for this. They were meant to be prepared for the unexpected but not this time.

  The collision with the tree was brutal. The driver’s side was hit the hardest causing the windows to smash. As air bags inflated, a cloud of dust went everywhere. And like any good car pileup, the next two followed suit, missing them by a matter of two feet but coming to a grinding halt, caked up with dirt and stuck in the mud. The third cruiser and EMS were the fortunate ones. They had managed to slow down but they wouldn’t be getting past this mess anytime soon.

  The officer beside him was bleeding badly and unconscious. Ben sat there for a moment trying to get his bearings. EMS were the first to open his door. He pushed his way out his side and fell into thick slimy mud. Other officers were already rushing over to help. Ben pulled his Glock and staggered to his feet, only to buckle from pain in his side.

  Only the thought of what might happen to Chloe if he didn’t make it gave him strength to get back up. He told the officers who weren’t involved in the crash to follow him as he broke away into the tree line. They would need to haul ass through the forest by foot.

  Crushing disappointment mingled with shock and fear pushed him forward as they followed the road by cutting through the woods.

  Chapter 52

  Her own scream scared her more than the fall. The only reason she survived was because her arms had hooked onto a thick wooden beam. Pain coursed through her like venom. By the time she pulled herself free he was already up on the landing, and that’s when it turned really bad.

  At first it was two shots then three rounds that blasted through the ceiling, then he must have unloaded his entire gun because when it stopped she could hear him unloading and slamming in a second magazine.

  Small shards of light lit up the roof above her. She groaned and writhed around in agonizing pain. One of the bullets had torn through her thigh.

  Hot searing pain now became her world.

  Still, even with her body going into shock, her will to live was stronger. She got back up again, stumbled across the beams, her mind staying focused on the attic vents.

  You are going to die here, she thought.

  Even if she got out, he would catch up with her and it would be over. Did anyone else know she was here? How would anyone find her?

  When she reached the vents, she screamed out her frustration and anger to a deserted property. Behind her the door to the attic dropped. Light flooded the far end. She harnessed what strength was left and began kicking at the wooden vents. She wished she still had the hammer, but she’d dropped it in the fall.

  Heart leaping, she knocked out two of the vents but stumbled from the pain.

  “Chloe. Come on now, there’s nowhere to go,” his voice echoed, a reminder that if she didn’t get out he was going to kill her, who knew what else he would do. She pulled herself up, gripped the edge of the structure, and continued smashing the vents with her heel as he made his way up the ladder.

  Once the vents were gone, she glanced back one final time before launching herself out. She hit the roof hard and rolled, sliding down the slick surface while the sound of bullets snapped above her. Seconds of groping for anything to slow her descent and then she bounced over the edge and dropped into a large thicket of bushes. It cushioned the fall but not enough. The blow was hard and unexpected. Winded and gasping for air, she gripped her side while rain drenched through her clothes in a matter of seconds. She didn’t have the luxury of catching a breath. She was up and double-timing it with a swollen, bloodied leg across the property.

  If I can just get into the tree line, she told herself.

  Chloe hit the ground in an awkward sprint, hobble and pitifully limp while wincing in pain with every step. Taking in her surroundings, she was disoriented. There was no way of knowing where she was or even if there were any other homes in the area.

  “Chloe!” she heard the snap of bullets before her name. By the time he burst out the rear door she already had a hundred-yard lead. She loo
ked back and saw him begin to give chase.

  Without a phone, with no idea of where a road was, all she could do was seek cover in the forest. Perhaps she could lose him. It was dense and darker than it was outside of it as heavy rain clouds had pushed out what little blue sky remained.

  As she veered into the woods, the smell of pine and wet bark filled her nostrils. She forged forward into the forest, casting a glance over her shoulder one final time to see him wipe out in the mud. She wanted to gloat but there was no time. The atrocious weather gave her an additional advantage. She limped on, praying to live.

  Chapter 53

  Move it! One foot in front of the other, Ben ignored his thighs protesting.

  His lungs were an inferno as he and four of the SWAT team emerged from the dense forest and the small log cabin came into view. By now, all five of them were flat-out sprinting. They’d heard the gunfire long before they broke out of the tree line. Alert, gun at the ready, Ben couldn’t get there fast enough. The team was prepared for an all-out war. They couldn’t tell where the shots originated from, inside or outside of the house. Parked nearby was Danvers’s cruiser. SWAT instantly bulldozed through the front door while Ben circled around back.

  He raised his gun directly in front of him. His eyes scanned the back door, windows, and roof. That’s when he saw broken pieces from the attic eyebrow vent scattered on the metallic roof. Rainwater gushed over the brim of the eavestrough and a harsh wind howled.

  As he approached the rear door, he heard the crack of distant gunfire coming from the forest. He glanced over his shoulder and made a mad dash for the forest line.