by Karen Rose
“But you do,” she said archly.
“I do,” he answered. “Watch and learn, Miss Marshall.” He pulled out a laminated page covered with a design she’d never seen before. “My old school. Fond memories.” He looked over and winked. “Figured out I needed to laminate it after the first time. It was all covered in blood.” He pulled out a smaller syringe and a bottle of something dark blue. “Art class, creativity at its most enjoyable. Today, Miss Marshall, I’ll teach you the art of tattooing. Got this idea from Lorraine. She had a peace symbol tattooed to her ass. Such poor quality workmanship.”
“And you can do better.”
He shook the bottle and chose a needle. “Oh, yes. I find there’s very, very little I cannot do.”
The sight of the needle made her stomach roil and Jenna desperately scrambled for another distraction. “Why cheerleaders, Josh?”
Josh smiled easily as he measured and mixed the dark blue fluid. “Oh, I guess I could have picked anybody, but picking from cheerleaders helped narrow the pool to the prettiest of the girls from the get-go. No sense in picking an ugly girl when the pretty ones are so eager to please.”
Jenna wiggled her feet in the ropes. “But how did you get them to go with you?” she asked, then too late realized she shouldn’t have. The blatant disbelief in her voice was a slap at his ego.
His cheeks went brick red and his fingers tightened on the bottle. “Be quiet, Miss Marshall.”
She knew she’d succeeded in rattling him and, glancing over at the knives next to Kelly, realized rattling him further was the best strategy to delay his hand. But you could make it worse, she thought, then thought of the third missing girl and Steven’s ravaged face. It had been the worst crime scene of his career. That’s what Josh Lutz was capable of. So anything she did couldn’t make anything worse. Faster, maybe. But not worse.
“They wouldn’t go with you, would they?” she asked. “So how did you make them meet you in the middle of the night? I doubt it was on the force of your winning personality.”
Josh’s jaw clenched. “For a woman claiming an advanced degree, you are very foolish.”
“You’re going to kill me anyway,” she said evenly. “What do I have to lose?”
A scowl furrowed his forehead, then smoothed. “Sensible, actually.”
He’d calmed. She needed to stir him up again. “You lied to them, didn’t you?”
He drew dye into the syringe. “I told them what they wanted to hear,” he said reasonably. “They all wanted to date a popular jock. It was pathetically easy.” He picked up the needle.
Jenna’s gut churned. Stall. “You told them you were Rudy,” she said, keeping her voice steady.
Josh huffed an impatient sigh. “Of course I did. Now be quiet. I want this tattoo perfect.”
Jenna searched her brain again. “So you failed in your initial synthesis of ketamine,” she blurted and watched his hand wobble, then steady.
“No,” he said carefully. “I quickly realized I needed a lab more well equipped than my own.”
“That’s what I figured. That’s what I told the police. I told them you were incapable of synthesizing ketamine all by yourself, that it was beyond the limits of your intellect.”
His hand clenched around the syringe and a few drops of blue dye spilled on the table. “I said, my laboratory was insufficient,” he gritted.
“You couldn’t have done it even if you had a well-stocked lab. You’re not trained to do so. I, on the other hand, am trained to do so. You overrate your own skill.”
He turned and she could see his eyes glittering. “Be quiet, Miss Marshall.”
“It’s Dr. Marshall,” she said crisply and watched him flinch. “It’s Dr. because I earned my degree. Which makes me a great deal smarter than you. So did you steal it?” she asked, pressing forward, now that she had him off-kilter. Anything to keep him from touching Kelly. Even if he turned the syringe and carving tools on her. “Did you resort to common theft to get the ketamine?”
“No. Now be quiet or I’ll tape your damn mouth shut.” He bent down over Kelly’s head, the syringe once again steady in his hand, and Jenna worked her ankles in the knotted rope, loosening the knot with every movement.
“What about Seattle, Joshua?” she asked, grabbing for any detail. “Did you kill girls there?”
He jerked, his jaw clenched. “Shut. Up.” She saw blue ink spurt from the syringe, covering Kelly’s bald scalp. With a curse Josh wiped the ink from Kelly’s head and threw the towel in a trash can. “Now look what you’ve made me do,” he snarled, then visibly got hold of himself.
“Did you? Those four girls on the wall, are they the ones you killed in Seattle? You know that’s why Detective Davies is here, don’t you? He knows it’s you.” She wasn’t sure Neil knew any such thing, but prayed Neil and Steven would figure it out.
“Davies is another cop that can’t tell his ass from a hole in the wall,” he gritted. “Davies thinks Rudy is the killer,” Josh continued, his voice laced with sarcasm. “I even gave him Rudy on a silver platter back in Seattle, but Davies screwed it up. Mishandled evidence. And Rudy went free.”
“So Rudy was innocent the whole time.”
Josh laughed, tapping the bubbles from the syringe. “Rudy is incapable of the thought required to be a killer. Rudy is good for one thing only. Football. And thanks to you he doesn’t even have that.” He looked up, one brow cocked. “Thank you for that, by the way.”
She’d actually opened her mouth to say “you’re welcome,” but said instead, “You hate Rudy.”
“And you have a Ph.D.,” Josh drawled. “Of course I hate Rudy. Everybody hates Rudy.”
“Not true,” Jenna corrected and saw his spine snap. “Everyone likes Rudy. Especially girls.”
“Stupid whores. All of ’em,” Josh muttered. “Shut up and let me work.”
“Davies had a semen sample on the Seattle killer. If Davies thought Rudy was the killer, it must have been Rudy’s. Now that took work—making it look like it was his when it was yours.”
Josh looked across the barn with narrowed eyes. “If you want to know how I killed those girls and made it look like Rudy did it, just ask.”
“So how did you, Joshua?” Jenna asked, making him scowl. He didn’t like to be called Joshua. “How did Rudy’s semen get in your murder victim?”
“The old-fashioned way,” Josh snarled. “He fucked her.” “And you wanted to,” Jenna guessed, “but she liked Rudy better.”
“She was mine,” he said coldly. “He stole her from me.” “So you killed her.”
“Oh, yes.”
“And the second? What about her? Was she Rudy’s girl also?”
Josh stopped, then looked up with an easy smile that chilled her more than the snarl. He was back in control. “Not bad, Miss Marshall. Got me to say a little more than I’d planned. Well, I’ll tell you how it was.” He put down the tattoo needle and picked up one of the large knives. “I killed the first one and didn’t really mean to. I wanted her and wanted her to want me, you know?”
Jenna swallowed and watched him walk around the table, deliberately, the knife clutched in his hand. So this would be it, she thought. Steven would find her stabbed, bald corpse, just like the others. But her feet were nearly free. A few more wiggles and she’d have worked a space big enough to slide her foot through. So she’d stall. For just a few more moments.
“But she didn’t want you,” she made herself answer. “She thought you weren’t as good as Rudy. You weren’t as handsome. Weren’t as smart.”
His step hitched and he stumbled, wincing, grabbing at his upper thigh. Jean-Luc had bitten him on the thigh. He resumed walking toward her, slowly but steadily. “I was smart,” he snarled, “right up until those doctors doped me up so I couldn’t think. I was smarter than all of them and they couldn’t stand that. They drugged me, every damn day, until I didn’t know who I was or what I was doing.”
“Until your IQ was eighty-five and the
y put you in special classes,” Jenna gibed. “That hurt.”
“What will hurt is when I cut you, like I cut all the others.” He grabbed her by the collar and pointed the knife at her throat. “I killed the first girl without meaning to. But you know what? I found out it was fun. It was damn exhilarating. It was pure pleasure.”
“It was control,” Jenna whispered, watching his eyes, inches from her own. They flickered. Then narrowed.
“It was control,” he repeated. “Maybe you did deserve that Ph.D. after all,” he mocked and pressed the knife closer. She wanted to swallow, but fought it. If she swallowed, the knife would cut deeper. “I missed out on killing you the first time, Miss Marshall. Now I have another chance and I intend to make the most of it.”
This is it. He’ll kill me. Then he’ll kill Kelly. Her brain froze, then blessed anger surged, loosening her tongue. No. I’m not ready to die yet. “You won’t, Joshua. You can’t. I am your teacher. I am in charge here.”
His eyes flickered wildly. “You are not in charge. You’re tied up. I am in charge.”
She didn’t think then, just acted, planting both her feet against his gut and shoving.
Caught off guard he grunted and stumbled, giving her the precious seconds she needed to work her feet, loosening the knot the millimeter she needed. Then she slipped her foot free and kicked him with all her might.
Stunned, he staggered back and she kicked his thigh where he’d held it. Where her dog had bitten him in a frantic attempt to save her life. His cry of pain told her the kick had been well placed and she jumped from the table and ran. Ran toward the barn door, away from Kelly and prayed he’d follow her. She paused at the barn door, looked right, then left.
Then stopped as moonlight glinted off the shiny barrel of the gun pointed straight at her face.
Saturday, October 15, 2:15 A.M.
Steven stared at the small barn, seeing the muted light through the only window. She was in there. That’s where the bastard held her. If she was still alive. Don’t even think that.
He pulled his weapon from his shoulder holster. “I know you want him to stand trial in Seattle, Davies, and so do I, but if I have to kill him to get Jenna away, I will.”
Davies drew his own weapon. “Understood.” Then his eyes narrowed and he pointed to the far corner of the barn. “Thatcher, look. She did know where he was. That bitch.”
Steven watched the slim shadow creeping toward the door, a grim satisfaction settling over him. “Harry said Nora asked the farmer to give Josh another chance. She must have known where this barn was all along.” Then the satisfaction evaporated when a loud crash came from the barn.
The thin dark shadow ran for the barn door and too late Steven saw the glint of silver.
“Shit, she’s got a gun.” Steven held his radio to his lips, his feet already moving. “Lennie, keep everyone on standby. We’re going in.”
Then he cursed again when he looked to his side and saw Davies was no longer there.
THIRTY-SIX
Saturday, October 15, 2:20 A.M.
THE GUN WAS SHINY, ALMOST TOO PERFECT to be real. But it was very real. And pointed in her face.
“You’ve caused enough trouble for my son, Miss Marshall. It’s time to go.”
Jenna looked down the barrel of the gun to the face of the woman she’d last seen wearing a god-awful nightgown. “Mrs. Lutz.”
“Mother,” Josh said from behind her, angry.
Jenna heard hysterical laughter and vaguely realized it came from inside her own throat. “You’re going to help him,” she said, incredulous.
“I am his mother. That’s what mothers do. Not being a mother, you wouldn’t understand. Joshua, take the path to the car. We pulled off as the main road has been closed by the police.”
Police, Jenna thought, her knees going weak with relief. Steven.
Mrs. Lutz was frowning at Josh, who hadn’t moved. “Run along, son. I’ll take care of her.”
Jenna shook her head, hardly able to process what she’d heard. “You’re going to kill me now?”
“Without fanfare. A simple bullet in the head and both my sons’ problems will be solved.”
Jenna looked into Nora Lutz’s eyes, realizing she was seeing true insanity. “Like you solved all the problems in Seattle?”
Mrs. Lutz’s lips bent in a tight smile. “My Rudy was innocent. Any jury would have said so.”
“Any jury didn’t have a chance. You paid someone to set Neil Davies up, didn’t you?”
She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “My Rudy was innocent.”
“Because your Josh is guilty as hell,” Jenna returned, enraged and helpless.
“My Joshua is a sick boy who will get help. You are a bothersome insect who will be a bother no longer. Into the barn, please.”
Jenna stared. “You’ve got to be kidding. If you’re going to shoot me, it will be right here. You’re insane. Simply insane.”
Mrs. Lutz cocked the trigger. “I am armed,” she corrected in a calm, genteel voice. “Simply armed. And if I have to shoot you here, I will.”
Jenna watched as Mrs. Lutz’s arm rose steadily, as if in slow motion. She’s going to kill me. Right now. Steven will find me dead. It’s too late.
Mrs. Lutz’s arm had reached the top of her arc when she flicked her eyes sideways, the gun following. There was a flash of light, two deafening blasts in rapid succession. Then the sick thud of a body hitting the ground. A big body. Steven. No.
With a hoarse cry Jenna spun around, only to see the body on the ground was Neil’s. A sick combination of relief and panic coursed through her and she took a stumbling step, falling to her knees next to Neil. But with her hands still tied behind her she was unable to help him. Unable to stem the dark stain spreading on his thigh. He lay bent at the waist and writhing, his face contorted in agony. He clutched one hand with the other and Jenna could see another stream of blood gushing from his right hand. He’d been shot twice, leg and hand. But he was alive.
“That felt remarkably cathartic,” Mrs. Lutz said from behind her, her voice dry. “Get up, Miss Marshall, or the next one will go between his eyes. And I promise you I’m a very good shot.”
Neil looked up at her, his eyes glazed with pain. “Do it, Jenna. Do what she says.”
“Oh, to hear those words from your throat after all this time,” Mrs. Lutz said, her tone now amused. “Get up, Miss Marshall. Now.”
Jenna pushed herself to her feet, trembling from a combination of shock, fear, rage, and utter helplessness. Kelly lay dying inside and Neil lay at her feet, his blood spilling onto the ground.
“That’s very wise, Miss Marshall. Now, Josh, go to the car. Dr. Nelson is waiting for you.”
“No, Mother. I won’t.”
You go, Josh, Jenna thought, another hysterical laugh threatening to break free.
Mrs. Lutz heaved an impatient sigh. “Joshua, I found the pills under your mattress. I know you haven’t been taking them for months. Now go to the car and let Dr. Nelson help you.”
“He’ll dope you up so you can’t think, Josh.” Jenna said desperately. “He’ll dope you up so you won’t be smart anymore.”
Mrs. Lutz shoved the gun against her head. “In the barn, Miss Marshall. Joshua, in the car.”
Jenna stumbled, the gun at her temple, trying to think of something, anything she could do. Then she heard another click and the voice she’d feared she’d never hear again.
“Put the gun down, Mrs. Lutz,” Steven said calmly, “and Josh will not get hurt.”
Pure relief coursed through her, leaving her shaken. “Steven,” Jenna said, wishing she could say everything else that rushed to her lips, but Mrs. Lutz shoved the gun harder into her temple.
“You won’t shoot my son,” Mrs. Lutz said evenly. “You’ll just take him to jail and I’ll get him out. I, on the other hand, will shoot her with very little compunction. So what will it be, Agent Thatcher? My son or this woman? Decide quickly. I have very little
time and very little to lose.”
Jenna held her breath, knowing Steven was behind her, knowing he wouldn’t, couldn’t let a killer go. Knowing Kelly lay inside the barn, her life in the balance. “Steven, Kelly’s inside,” Jenna said, knowing he needed the full score. “She’s alive.”
“I have more than one bullet, Agent Thatcher,” Mrs. Lutz said, with that same eerie calm. “And I will do anything to save my son. Drop your gun and kick it over to me.”
After a pregnant pause, Jenna flinched at the sound of gunfire as Steven released his round.
Into the air. Followed by the soft thud of a blunt object hitting the ground. Mrs. Lutz’s gun left her temple and she heard the rustle of clothing as the insane woman retrieved Steven’s weapon.
“Take your son,” Steven said. “But let the women go.” Jenna cried, “Steven, no—” and stopped when the gun ground into her head once again.
“Into the barn, Dr. Marshall,” Mrs. Lutz commanded. “But you said—” Jenna’s protest was cut off when Mrs. Lutz pushed her. Jenna stumbled and fell into the barn, scraping her face on the wood floor, unable to break her own fall. Fueled by sheer instinct, Jenna rolled and Mrs. Lutz’s shot narrowly missed her head.
Shaking her head clear, Jenna saw Steven rush forward, only for Josh to grab Steven around the neck and pull him backward, away from the barn. Jenna scrambled to her feet as Mrs. Lutz took aim and again Jenna let her instincts rule. Her leg shot out and around and the gun flew, landing harmlessly against the far wall. She came down on the balls of her feet and kicked again, this time striking Mrs. Lutz mid-torso, hearing a crack as Josh’s mother’s skull hit the floor, seeing the woman lay there, stunned.
Breathing hard, Jenna looked over to where Josh had Steven pinned to the ground, straddling his chest, his hands around Steven’s throat. Steven’s hands were around Josh’s wrists, the two engaged in silent struggle. Steven was strong, but Josh had the advantage of youth and the strength of insanity. Josh was killing Steven.