“They were substitutes for you, my love, but they just wouldn’t do,” he told her, still standing there confident and ready to attack. Grace held her ground.
Just keep him talking, she told herself.
“What about Donald? What are you going to do to him?” Grace asked.
“He’s the serial killer everyone’s been looking for. He found you, brought you here, performed his sadistic rituals on you, then killed you. Afterward he was so disgusted with himself and what he had done, all of those women he killed over the years. He was ashamed now and he committed suicide.” Eric looked toward Donald and laughed.
Grace knew he could get away with it just like he’d planted the evidence in Stew Parker’s house. He’d planted evidence in Donald’s house as well. They would be dead and he would be a free man living two separate lives with her mother Sarah. Oh my God, Mom. What would she do when she found out?
“I’m not going to let you get away with this, Eric,” Grace said as she stepped back a little further. Soon there would be nowhere else to move.
“I don’t think so, beautiful. We have a date.” He lunged forward with the ice pick attempting to stab her. She tried to move but she wasn’t quick enough as the ice pick pierced through the skin on her upper arm. She stepped back trying not to fall but she tripped over something. What the hell was that? She asked herself and there was something very large on the ground. In an instant she was on her back scrambling to get to her feet. She was slipping, sliding and she couldn’t grip the floor with her feet or her hands. She looked down and all she could see was red. She screamed. She was horrified as she looked into the eyes of a dead Agent Lancaster. It had to be him. She saw a picture once that Sandman showed her. Oh, Sandman, Jay, and Duke. You’ll never know who the killer is. Not unless I stop him.
Eric was laughing as he took Grace by the injured arm and she cried with pain. He threw her against the wooden beam in anger then grabbed her by the throat.
“I’m in charge now so listen up. You will speak only when told to. You will do what I say or be punished. I have waited too long for this moment and it will be perfect,” he said to her strongly then kissed her hard on the mouth as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her snugly against him.
Grace bit his lip. He pulled back appearing angry and she spat at him then grabbed his forearms. He didn’t budge as she dug her manicured nails into his flesh, pushing down as hard as she could until her nails bent and broke. He was squeezing her throat now so that she couldn’t swallow or breathe. She didn’t want to die like this. She had accomplished so much on her own. She had abandoned safety with her men to help capture a killer and that was what she was going to do. With all her will and her might she lunged her body forward as she thrust her forehead forward against his chin, surprising him. He loosened his grip on her neck and then she stomped on Eric’s ankle and foot as hard as she could. He let go of her neck and she kneed him in the groin, and then she clocked him in the jaw with a right hook.
She frantically looked around for a weapon. The ice pick lay on the floor and she grabbed it then went running toward the stairs. She didn’t turn back. She could hear him gasping for air. She made it to the kitchen then heard the pounding of footsteps running up the basement stairs behind her. She headed toward the back door running toward the fields. She stopped a moment and thought about getting into Lancaster’s car when she heard the screen door slam open. Eric was coming. He was chasing her. She ran around the side of the house then toward the high grasses. She could lose him in the woods. She knew those woods well. They would lead to the main road then the highway. Maybe she could stop a car for help? Maybe the police were looking for her? She did see that patrol car earlier. They must be in the area. She hoped as she continued to run for her life.
* * * *
Frank and John were trying to get over their initial shock. They were searching for answers, and possible locations Eric could hide. The other agents were informed of the situation and the manhunt was on. They were making the connections to other cases, coming up with timelines of when Eric left on business trips and murders taking place. The evidence was piling up and the other detectives working on Michelle’s murder had a witness who saw her enter Eric’s car. The coroner’s reports were back and indicating that the possible weapon used for the killings was an ice pick. The oil used to blind Jamie was also found on the tape used to cover his other victims’ eyes. Frank explained everything to Peter and he decided he would be the one to tell Sarah. Other agents were sent to Sarah’s house as precaution in case Eric decided to go after his wife as well.
“Where the hell is Lancaster?” Sandman yelled through the chaos in the office. “Hey, Justin, we’ve been looking for you and Lancaster. Where is he?”
“There’s been a break in the case. Sandstone figured out who the killer is,” one of the agents told him, and he practically dropped his ceramic cup of hot coffee.
“It’s Donald, right?” Justin asked.
“No, man, it’s not him. It’s Eric, Grace’s stepfather. We’re trying to find out where he could be hiding. Where’s Agent Lancaster?”
Justin ran to Sandstone and told him about the phone call from Grace.
“Everybody shut up right now!” Sandman yelled out to the chaos of loud voices and people panicking. Everyone in the office stopped talking. Agents held their hands over telephone receivers. Others hung up their phones entirely. Frank and John joined Sandman by Justin and Big Jay and Duke stood at attention.
“Grace called over an hour ago. Lancaster said that Senior Investigator Burbank gave her Lancaster’s number to set up a trap for the killer. She was in a safe place somewhere outside of town,” explained Justin as he filled everyone in on the details.
“That fucking asshole could get our sister killed while he’s trying to play hero agent. What if they’re dead already?” Frank said.
“Let’s stay positive. You said you had an address. Where is it?” Sandstone asked and Justin ran to his office.
“Calm down, Frank. Just because Lancaster and Grace are together it doesn’t mean that Eric knows where they are. John, get together your SWAT team. I want as much manpower as possible to assist if needed,” Sandstone stated.
“Here it is, sir, I wrote it down as Lancaster received it from Grace,” Justin said, handing the piece of paper to Sandstone.
“Where is this place?” Sandman asked Frank and his eyes widened as he looked at the directions.
“It’s a place our family owns. No one’s been there in years. It’s abandoned,” said Frank
“Okay, everyone, this is how it’s going down. I want ten agents to stay here and handle any information that comes through as well as updating me on new information. Call me if you hear from Grace, Donald, Eric, or anyone.” Sandman directed the crowd of people as he gave the orders to the first group of agents.
“You guys get the gear and meet us downstairs in five minutes. We’re going to the house. When we get there, let’s come up on the house slowly. We don’t know if this is a hostage situation or what. John will have his SWAT team go inside first along with some of my agents. No sirens, no info over the radios until we’ve entered the house. Got it?” Sandman asked then headed toward the stairs with Frank, Duke, Big Jay, and the others.
* * * *
Within twenty minutes the SWAT team and FBI agents had the house surrounded. With their guns drawn, Sandman, Frank, and the others followed the SWAT team into the house. They made their way toward the basement where they found Lancaster and Donald.
“He’s dead, Sandman,” said John as he checked Lancaster for a pulse. Now they feared for their sister’s life. Where was she? What happened?
“He’s alive, man!” yelled Frank as he helped Donald sit up against the wall.
“Grace,” Donald whispered. He was having difficulty talking.
“Where is she, Donald?” Frank asked as Sandman and Big Jay kneeled down next to him.
“She ran. The stairs. Eric’
s the killer,” he told them.
“We know, Donald. Where would Grace run to?” Duke asked, practically yelling. He was afraid they might be too late.
“Go help her. Eric is chasing her. The fields, the swamp,” said Donald as he began to pass out.
Sandman got to his feet along with Frank.
“You know this area. I don’t. We don’t know how long ago she escaped so we’re going to have to move quickly. Frank and John, you come with me. I want to organize groups to try and cover as much area as quickly as possible. Duke, Big Jay, you get the groups started. Grab whoever knows these woods and we’ll meet up as we case the area, and Frank, John, and I will head out now. Let’s go.”
Everyone ran up the stairs.
* * * *
Grace felt the exhaustion, but she forced herself to continue running. God, I’m out of shape. I can’t believe Eric is the killer. Fucking Eric killed my sister.
She could hear the rustling of branches and high grasses behind her. Eric was getting closer. He was gaining on her. Grace’s T-shirt was drenched with sweat. Her hands and knees were dirty from numerous falls she took. She wondered if she could escape. As she ran through the muddy terrain, she came upon a small creek about twenty feet wide. She thought if she could get across it, get down the hill, and across the next open area, she would reach the road. If she ran to the right, it would lead to the same location where she found her sister’s body. The thought frightened her, but she couldn’t stop her mind from the crazy, erratic thoughts that were now consuming her brain. The heavy feeling in her chest grew with every breath she took. Had she asked for this? By leaving Sandman, Jay, and Duke, had she asked to become another one of Eric’s victims? The police would know it was him. Sandman and his brothers would track Eric down and kill him. She felt the urge to give in. Give up and die out here, too. Would Eric kill her like he killed Clara? My mom. My mom would never survive all of this. Clara’s murder, Eric as the killer, and me dead, too.
No one was coming. This was all her fault and she blamed herself for everything. She should have stayed with her men, in their cozy private cabin, lost in their embraces and lovemaking, and now she may never see them again. They would be too late if they even found out the truth. Her brothers would lose another sister and her mom would lose another daughter. The thoughts kept repeating in her mind, pounding away at her will, her determination. She was losing the battle physically and mentally.
Just then she heard her name.
“Grace!”
Someone was calling her and it wasn’t Eric. She ran through the creek, tripping over branches and rocks beneath the water’s surface. Then she fell in the water slamming her knees against the jagged edges of a cluster of rocks. She grabbed the ground through the water, pulling herself up and pushing herself to continue to run. She made it to the hill. It was in front of her now as she dove at it grabbing fistfuls of dirt, scratching, clawing, using all her might to climb it and make it to the road just yards ahead.
She screamed with terror as Eric grabbed ahold of her ankles pulling her back down the hill. Her belly scraped across the dirt. She struggled to hold on, grabbing more dirt, ripping her nails and fingers, feeling the stinging caused by each attempt.
He jumped on top of her tackling her as he rolled her onto her back. He backhanded her once, twice across the mouth, then again with his forearm. This was it. She couldn’t take it anymore. She had dropped the ice pick that now laid only inches away from her.
“Grace!” She heard the voices screaming her name. Frank, John, Sandman, Duke? They were coming. They found her. She scraped together what little strength, momentum, and hatred she had left and threw her body to the side and attempted to grab the ice pick. She would not die, not without a fight. Eric would not be the one to survive.
“Help!” she screamed as loud as she could, feeling the strain, the ache in her throat and voice as she grabbed hold of the pick, striking Eric in the shoulder with it. She let go of the handle as she backed up the hill on her elbows, crying as she watched the hatred fill Eric’s eyes. He pulled the pick from his shoulder yelling like some wild beast and raised it over his head aiming it toward Grace’s heart.
“Time to die,” he said and Grace heard the shots. One, two, three, large bangs rang out as she covered her head and pulled herself into the fetal position for protection as Eric fell to the ground beside her then rolled down the hill.
She was crying now with her hands over her face, lying in the dirt, weak and exhausted.
“Grace, thank God you’re alive.” She heard Sandman’s voice, Frank’s, then John’s. They were at her side as she opened her eyes. All three men were still holding their guns in their hands as Sandman pulled her into their arms. Each of them had saved her life by firing at Eric.
“Jesus, is she okay?”
She heard Duke’s voice and saw him and then Big Jay through blurry eyes. Her three ginormous men had come to her rescue. Her brothers were there, too.
“You’re bleeding, baby, are you all right?” Sandman asked as he gently checked the wound on her arm.
“I’m okay and I’m so glad to see you guys. I love you.”
* * * *
Sarah slowly opened the door to the hospital room where Donald was resting. She had spent the last two days trying to recover from the shock that Eric was a killer. Eric had killed Clara and all those other innocent people. The thrill of killing consumed him. Then there was his involvement in the housing projects in Colton. He didn’t want Donald or the other contributors to succeed. Eric had received election endorsements from some business tycoon that wanted to buy the land and use it for vacation home development. They didn’t want low- income families living on the same property. They wanted it all to remain high class. It was disturbing. Those involved had a lot of questions to answer for the district attorney.
Then she thought about Donald.
He had risked his life for Grace, for all of them and she nearly lost him, too. She wondered if he would even want anything to do with her now. After Eric tried to frame Donald for the murders. Why would he? She just wanted to stop by to see him. He meant so much to her and it was the right thing to do.
The tears welled up in her eyes as she walked closer to the bed.
He opened his eyes and she was grateful that he appeared surprised not angry.
“Sarah?” he whispered, his voice a little rough and groggy.
She moved beside the bed and placed her hand over his and used the other hand to clutch her purse to her chest for support.
“I’ll leave if you don’t want to see me.”
“What? No, stay. Why would you think that?” he asked then clasped his hand over hers and brought it closer to his chest.
She loved the feel of him touching her. His strength, his charismatic way.
“I thought you would hate me for what Eric did to you.”
“Baby, no way. No freaking way would I blame you for that sick bastard. God Sarah, all I thought about, all I ever think about is you. I care about you.”
She smiled softly then swallowed hard as she held his gaze.
“I care about you, too.”
They held one another’s gaze and then he whispered to her, “I’ve always cared for you, Sarah. Before Eric, during the years as the kids grew up around us. I should have told you then how I felt.”
She shook her head as a tear rolled down her cheek.
“I had no idea. I felt it, too. I cared for you, too, but thought, oh, I don’t know what I thought. I was stupid. So stupid.”
He pulled her hand up toward his lips as he shook his head.
“Not stupid. You’re a good woman. You see things through. Forget about the past. Forget about Eric.” He kissed her knuckles and she felt her heart leap with joy and perhaps hope that there was still something between the two of them they could save.
“I wish.”
“Shh,” he told her then pulled her closer.
“Come here, sweet Sarah.”
She slowly leaned toward him and his firm lips, his bruised face and felt his hand caress up her arm, to her shoulder then neck.
“I’ve always loved you, Sarah. It’s our time now. Our time.”
The tear rolled down her cheek as he pulled her closer and kissed her softly.
I love you, too, Donald.
Epilogue
The house was filled with family and friends. It was just what everyone needed. Grace watched as Donald sat on the rocking chair sipping some ice tea enjoying a friendly argument with Sarah about the better way to season steaks before cooking them on the grill. Frank was adding his comments, contributing fuel to the fire. Aunt Betsy was talking to Jamie and Tod about an old family heirloom she wanted them to have for their new home. They had sold their old place and moved to a newer, larger house a few blocks away. Jamie didn’t feel she could live in the same house where she was almost killed.
Grace couldn’t believe six months had passed. She held off on her photography career to help Sarah with her political campaign. Sarah was running for town mayor and had a really good shot at the position. The whole town agreed she would be perfect for the job.
She looked out across the open land and thought about her weekly visits to Clara’s gravesite. The first time was the most difficult, but as she made each trip there, it became easier. She was finally at peace knowing that Clara’s killer was not just identified, but dead. She had closure now, and felt that life could only get better from here on out.
Then she felt the twinge of regret and sadness in her heart.
Grace hadn’t heard from Sandman, Duke, or Big Jay in weeks. She knew that Sandman had been busy going over the aspects of the case as well as receiving another job. They spoke on the phone a few times and Sandman expressed his upset with her for leaving the way she did. He told her if a relationship was going to continue between them, then she needed to be less independent. He wanted to take care of her, share the responsibilities with her, or a relationship just wouldn’t work.
The American Soldier Collection 3: Amazing Grace (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 26