A Deadly Love

by Jannine Gallant

  “Of course, but she didn’t answer.” She took a shuddering breath. “So I called Harley. He saw her leave the school and yelled at her for walking home a-a-lo-one.” The quavering word dissolved into tears. “Not Brooke. Not my baby girl.”

  “We’ll find her, June. We’ll find her! I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Slamming down his phone, he grabbed his jacket and ran from the office. Overhead clouds rolled across the sky as he tore open the truck door, cranked the key, and gunned the engine. She had to be safe, had-to-be. The words repeated over and over in his brain. Tires squealed as he turned the corner and raced down the street. Pulling into June’s driveway beside Harley’s patrol car, he hit the ground running.

  “Did you find anything?” he asked as he burst through the kitchen door.

  Harley stood beside June’s chair, one hand resting on her shoulder. She hugged a purple knit cardigan to her chest, her whole body trembling.

  “There were a few scuff marks in the dirt at the edge of the road about a half mile from here. We should get a partial shoe print, but it may have nothing to do with Brooke.”

  “It’s something at least.” He knelt in front of June and took her fragile hands in his. “We’ll bring her home. I swear to God we will.”

  “The FBI agents should be here any minute.”

  There was a knock on the front door as Harley finished speaking. Otis scrambled out from beneath the table, barking furiously. Standing, June wrung her hands and stared at the dog.

  “I’ll get the door,” Harley said, stepping into the hallway.

  “And I’ll take Otis over to my house. We don’t need him in the mix.” Grabbing the dog’s collar, he led him out the back door and hustled him across the yard. Two dark sedans were parked on the road along with a state police vehicle. The troops had turned out in full force. He stared at the parade of law enforcement entering June’s house, this time to search for Brooke, and slammed his fist into the wall of the house. His knuckles throbbed.

  He should never have left her side. Screw work! If he’d stayed with her, she’d be safe right now. Pushing the dog inside, he leaned his forehead against the closed door. Nothing could happen to Brooke. Nothing. He wouldn’t survive losing her, couldn’t even think about her ending up the way the other women had or he’d lose his mind.

  With shaking hands, he wiped the dampness from his eyes and walked across the yard. The FBI had damn well better have a plan. If they didn’t—

  “What’s going on, Dillon?”

  He spun at the sound of his grandfather’s voice.

  Jesse left the path and waved his hand toward the cars. “What’s all the commotion?”

  He spoke sharply. “Did you hear someone in the woods either last night or this morning?”

  “It’s been real quiet for a few days now. I was hoping Brooke would drive me into town for groceries. I dropped the milk carton when I was pouring it on my cereal. Made one hell of a mess.”

  The sudden surge of hope dissipated, leaving him hollow and aching. “Brooke’s missing.” He struggled to force out the words. “We can only assume the madman who took the others grabbed her.”

  Jesse’s chin trembled beneath his beard. “Oh no.”

  “She disappeared about an hour ago. If you had heard something, anything, we’d at least have a place to start looking.”

  “Lord, I wish I could help. Are the police organizing a search?”

  “I don’t know what they’re doing.” He unclenched his fists and put a hand on his grandfather’s back. “Let’s go find out.”

  He heard Harley’s raised voice when he opened the kitchen door. “—don’t give a rat’s ass whether you think it’s a productive use of time or not. He can’t have gone far in such a short time.”

  “If he dumped her in a car, he could be in Eureka by now,” Polk said. A vein bulged in his forehead as he glared at the sheriff. “You’re not in charge, and I say—”

  “Enough.” The quiet word silenced both men. Agent Johnson made a note on a form, capped her pen, and stuffed it in her blazer pocket before looking up. “Sheriff Boone can organize a ground search if he chooses. We’ll focus on questioning the parties of interest we’ve identified.”

  “Who are they?” Dillon narrowed his eyes on the woman and stepped closer.

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  A haze of red clouded his vision, and something inside him snapped. Before he could lunge for the woman’s throat, Harley grabbed his arm.

  “You can’t help Brooke if you’re locked up for assault. Anyway, they don’t know shit.”

  “I need to leave. Now.” The blood pounded in his temples. “Before I do something really stupid.”

  Harley pushed him out the door. “We’ll focus on the stretch of road where I found the scuff marks, the woods around it, and nearby homes. If anyone doesn’t cooperate, I’ll put a deputy on watch until I can get a search warrant.”

  “You don’t think he took her away in a car?” Jesse asked, shutting the door behind them.

  “Not initially. Brooke’s no fool. She would have run like hell from anyone trying to entice her into a vehicle. Seems more likely our man came out of the woods, then surprised and overpowered her.”

  Dillon stared at Harley. “She would have been wary if she’d passed a car parked on the road.”

  The sheriff nodded. “Maybe he’s a champion sprinter and ran her down. But Brooke’s in shape, so I’m betting she gave him a long, hard run. Even if he used a car, he was probably forced to carry her some distance. There’ll be signs if we’re right.”

  “Let’s go!” Jesse’s voice rang with impatience. “I may not be as spry as I was a few years ago, but I can still track with the best of them.”

  “I’ll call my deputies to help with the door to door search. It’s broad daylight. Someone must have seen something unusual.”

  “There aren’t many homes along this road,” Dillon said. “It shouldn’t take long to check them all.”

  “The quicker the better. If he’s close, we don’t want to give him an opportunity to move her.”

  Dillon followed the sheriff’s cruiser in his truck and pulled in behind him. Hunching his shoulders against the stiff morning breeze, he knelt by a patch of dried mud near the edge of the road. The partial print was faint but discernable. “Probably a hiking boot.”

  “Looks like it.” Harley spoke into his radio, his voice sharp. “I want a cast made now. I don’t give a shit about speeding tickets. Get your ass over here!”

  Jesse’s lips twitched. “It’s no wonder you’re always looking for new deputies.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m an asshole.” He stared at the print a moment longer before turning. “Dwayne’s on his way. So are Detective Watkins and his partner. Let’s see if we can find a trail before the FBI decides to join us and obliterates it completely.”

  “He went this way.” Dillon rose from a crouch and stepped around a bent fern. A few yards away he spotted a broken branch on a huckleberry bush. “He headed away from the road.”

  “Here’s another heel mark. It’s deep,” Jesse said, pointing to a soft patch of earth. He must have been carrying her, no doubt hurrying as fast as he could.”

  “Carelessness on his part will tip this in our favor.” Harley rubbed his hands together. “Let’s go find the bastard.”

  They moved steadily toward town, following a trail of bent branches in the thick underbrush. Dillon stopped beside a rotted log and frowned at an indention in a patch of moss. Sun filtered through the branches overhead, glimmering on a pale strand of—he blinked and it disappeared. “Shit.” Bending low, his gaze scanned the log before zeroing in on a blonde hair stuck to a piece of bark. “He set Brooke down here. Her hair caught.”

  “Hot damn.” The sheriff pulled out an evidence bag and collected the hair. Standing, he scanned the woods. “I wonder why he stopped.”

  Jesse scratched his head. “Could be he was tired and needed to rest.”


  “Or he was checking to make sure the coast was clear before getting any closer to town.” Dillon fisted his hands on his hips and turned in a slow circle, looking for a hint of disturbance in the underbrush. “He took care to cover his trail from here on out. Damn it, I can’t be sure which way he went.”

  “Unless I’m mistaken, the Woodvale Inn and the doc’s house are through the trees up ahead,” Harley said.

  “The school is over to the left.” Dillon kicked a pinecone, sending it ricocheting off a tree. “I bet he followed Brooke from the school. He probably saw her walking into town with Zack and decided to risk grabbing her during the day.”

  “So he either left his car near here, or this was his destination all along,” Jesse said.

  The sheriff reached for his radio. “We’ll expand the search, check with business owners along the main road. Maybe someone noticed Brooke walk by and will remember who was in the vicinity at the time. Christ, I spoke to her not far from here, gave her a lecture on walking alone, but I’m one hundred percent certain no one was following her.”

  “He could have stayed hidden until you passed, or maybe he was waiting further up the road.” Dillon’s temper, strung tighter than a guy line, snapped. The need to blame someone other than himself overruled common sense. He jabbed his old pal in the chest. “Shit, Harley, why in the name of God didn’t you give her a ride?”

  Harley pushed back, and his voice was nearly a shout. “I was on a freaking call. You think I don’t regret letting her go?”

  “Christ all mighty, boys!” Jesse stepped between them and held up his hands. “Casting blame won’t get us anywhere. I say we check every room in the Woodvale Inn. Maybe he has Brooke and Stephanie stashed in one of them.” His rheumy eyes blinked against the brightening sky. “There must be a reason he came back this direction, and the Inn is damn near empty all winter.”

  Stepping away, Harley’s shoulders sagged. “I can’t imagine he’d be able to hide one woman, let alone two, in such a public place, but it won’t hurt to check.”

  Dillon turned and stared at the patch of moss where Brooke had lain, awash in sunlight. Bound, unconscious, or both? Frustration and anger filled him. The pressure in his chest built until he thought something might explode. He pressed a hand to his heart.

  “You okay?” his grandfather asked, his brows lowering across worried eyes.

  “Hell no, I’m not okay. I won’t be okay until we find Brooke and exterminate the motherfucker who did this to her.”

  ****

  Brooke woke slowly. Her head pounded, and her stomach rolled. The room was blacker than a Halloween cat. Why are the curtains drawn? She scrunched her brow, trying to remember, and the throbbing increased ten fold.

  She groaned and felt the mattress next to her sink. A small hand stroked her brow. Not Dillon. Her grandmother? June’s usual lavender fragrance was missing. Brook’s nose twitched. The room stank of—mold?

  “Easy, honey. I bet you have a king-sized headache. I know I did.”

  Not her grandmother, but the voice was familiar. She tried to speak, cleared her dry throat, and tried again. “What happened?”

  “That psycho grabbed you. He probably hit you after he chloroformed you.” The voice thickened with tears. “I’m so sorry, Brooke.”

  Memory crashed down on her. Running footsteps, a hard arm across her chest, a sweet smell, and then—nothing. She drew in a gasping breath as realization dawned. The voice belonged to Stephanie.

  “Mother of God,” she whispered.

  “She’s not likely to help us. I’ve been praying until I’m blue in the face, and it hasn’t done a bit of good.” The tears were gone, the tone hard and unforgiving. “Is Marnie dead? What about Tricia Eaton?”

  Brooke swallowed against the panic clawing at her throat. “They found Tricia’s body not long after you disappeared. And Marnie...” She stopped speaking and took shallow breaths. Darkness closed in around her.”

  “Stay with me, girl. Don’t you dare faint.”

  The other woman’s voice tugged at her. She felt the lumpy pillow beneath her head, smelled mold and the sour reek of sweat, felt something cold and hard dragging on her ankle. She shifted, and her legs tangled in a long skirt. Reaching down, she touched the material. Cotton by the feel of it. Where are my jeans?

  “Tell me,” Stephanie whispered. “I have to know.”

  Closing her eyes against the throbbing pain in her head, she forced out the words. “Marnie was killed over the weekend.”

  “Damn him.” Her voice broke. “Damn him to hell and back.”

  Brooke could barely squeeze the question past the constriction in her chest. “Damn who?”

  “You don’t know?”

  She shook her head and winced at the pain behind her eyeballs. She tried to imagine the man responsible for the brutal deaths of three women, for imprisoning them in this dark, damp room, and failed. Her fingers dug into the thin mattress beneath her.

  “Elliot. It’s Elliot.” Stephanie spat the name as if it were poison. “Sick freak!”

  “What? Why?” The cry was wrenched from her throat. “My God, why would he do this to us?”

  “He just mumbles a lot of crap about making his heart whole again. For Caroline.”

  Brooke fumbled for Stephanie’s hand, clasped it in hers, and squeezed. She was shaking so hard, the metal frame of the cot rattled. “I don’t understand. I was never more than friends with Elliot. Maybe the others were—”

  “No.” Stephanie spoke sharply. “Marnie and I spent hours trying to figure out why he chose us. And before he grabbed me, she and Tricia debated the subject to death. Neither ever dated Elliot.”

  “And Tricia was here with Cybil before that,” she said flatly. “Was she the first?”

  “I think so. Tricia told Marnie that Cybil had pretty much lost it by the time he took her. I don’t doubt it. Being in here with someone to talk to is bad enough, but alone...” She shuddered. “Maybe that’s why he keeps two women at a time, so we don’t lose our minds. The last couple of days were unbelievably horrible.” Her voice choked with tears. “I didn’t want him to kidnap anyone else, I swear I didn’t. But waiting alone in the dark, I thought I’d go crazy!”

  Brooke squeezed her eyes tightly closed, afraid to hear more. But letting her imagination run wild was worse than knowing the truth. “Waiting for what, exactly?”

  “Why, honey, waiting for the game to begin.” Stephanie laughed, a hysterical sound that echoed in the darkness. “We’re just pawns in a sick game. He toys with us the way we toyed with his affections, or so he says. Listening to him explain it, his voice so earnest and sincere, makes me want to puke!”

  A hollow roaring invaded her ears. Clinging to Stephanie’s hand, she fought against it. “He raped you?” she whispered.

  “No, not that, thank God!” Her hand quivered as she touched Brooke’s cheek. “He comes in the night and takes one of us into the woods, blindfolded and bound. Then he unties you, smiles, wishes you luck, and lets you go.” Her voice rose. “Just when you think you might actually escape, when your heart is bursting with hope, he hunts you down and drags you back to this hole, wherever it is.”

  Brooke’s pulse pounded. “Every night?”

  “No, it’s hit and miss. Sometimes he just leaves food and takes the chamber pot to empty. Sometimes he doesn’t come at all.”

  “Why don’t we jump him when he comes in? Surely the two of us could—”

  “We’re chained to the cots. There’s a shackle on your ankle,” she said flatly. “And he has a knife. Elliot may be crazier than a loon, but he’s cautious.” Her voice changed. “Lately, he’s acted different. I don’t know, sort of skittish and paranoid.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The last few nights—” Her voice quavered and she steadied it. “—since he took Marnie and didn’t bring her back, he’s been incoherent, rambling on and on about how the last one screwed up his plan.”

&nbs
p; Lying on the cot, listening to Stephanie speak so calmly about the unimaginable, a giggle burst from her lips. Laughter turned to tears, and she swiped at her cheeks. “Can we assume I’m the one in question?”

  “I guess. What did you do to upset him?”

  Brooke frowned. “Dillon said he takes women on either a full or new moon. Saturday was a full moon, and I was out of town. Sunday, Otis heard something outside the house, but I didn’t go to investigate. Then last night he poisoned my dog.” Her voice caught. “But Dillon was with me when we found him.”

  “Not being able to get to you must have been killing him. Good. Good!”

  “He broke his pattern and grabbed me in broad daylight.” Her breath hitched. “I foolishly let my guard down, thinking I was safe during the day. Harley warned me to be more careful not five minutes before Elliot snatched me off my own street.”

  “He didn’t like kidnapping you the way he did. When he brought you down here, he was sweating bullets, ranting about the risk he was taking. We must be close to town, because I swear I heard voices in the distance, sort of high pitched, like a flock of birds screeching.” She shrugged. “Anyway, it isn’t your fault you were kidnapped. You had no way of knowing he’d try something so crazy.”

  “But I should have known better.” She pressed her hands to her pounding temples. “Dillon is going to go ballistic! And my poor grandma...” Tears slid down her face.

  “That’s the worst part of it, knowing the people who love you are dying inside, waiting for the game to play out.” Her voice lowered. “How are Rod and my babies?”

  “Your in-laws are helping him. I’m not sure how much the kids know. When I’ve seen Rod, he looks like a man possessed. It’s hard to explain. He stares right through you like he’s focused on something that isn’t there.” She let out a shuddering breath. “Dillon told me he’s hounded the FBI agents and Harley since your abduction, never once giving up hope of finding you.”

  “When they discover my body, it’ll kill him,” she said softly.

  “No!” Brooke grabbed her friend by the arm and shook her. “You can’t think like that. We’ll find a way to escape. I swear to God we will!”