Dianne gasped for breath, unable to speak. She pushed him away and rolled to her side, coughing to mask her embarrassment. Nice fix you got yourself in. How the hell are you going to talk yourself out of this one?
“I, I have car trouble.” She struggled to her feet, and looked across his front yard to the Sedan.
Taylor followed her gaze. “Why didn’t you ring the bell, or use your radio to call for help?” He narrowed his eyes at her.
She shrugged and the corner of her mouth lifted. She stifled the urge to burst out laughing. Not that she found anything about this situation funny. “I guess I could have.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t swing first, and ask questions later." He picked up the bat and smacked it against his open palm. He shook his head and started to walk away. “Let me grab a flashlight and get some shoes on before I take a look at your car.”
Shit! There hadn’t been time to think, so she’d come up with the lie about her car. How stupid am I? For Gods’ sake, he’s a mechanic. The second he pops the hood he’s going to know it’s a ruse.
Dianne sprinted across the front lawn and popped the hood of the Sedan. She sat behind the wheel and turned the key. The Sedan roared to life just as Taylor appeared at his front door. He walked up to her window, his brow creased.
“I just wiggled the wires on the battery and she started right up.” She shrugged. “Go fig.”
He scratched his head and attempted to smooth back the disheveled mass. Confusion clouded his eyes. “Hmm, that happens sometimes.”
“I’m sorry for waking you.” She held her breath and shifted her gaze from his firm, tanned chest, awaiting his response.
“What are you doing all the way out here in the middle of the night?” He eyed her suspiciously.
“I, uh, I took a wrong turn.” She diverted her gaze from his scrutiny. You’re a pathetic liar.
Taylor strolled over to the front of her car and shut the hood. He put two fingers to his temple in a wave of sorts and started back toward the house.
“Thanks,” she shouted out after him.
He turned and smiled. “Maybe next time you can just knock on the door if you want a look inside.” He winked and spun on his heel.
Her draw dropped. He hadn’t fallen for one bit of her story. Heat rushed to her face and she put the car in gear. She drove off without looking in his direction. She couldn’t shake the memory of his warm breath on her face as he pinned her to the ground. Had she been mistaken? If she hadn’t pushed him away, would he have kissed her? I guess I’ll never find out, I doubt he’ll even want to look at me again, never mind kiss me.
Chapter Four
Casey woke curled up in a fetal position. Her teeth chattered, no matter what she did, she was unable to generate any body heat. Her bindings were gone, as were her clothes. Still, she barely had enough energy to open her eyes let alone attempt to escape. If he didn’t kill her, she’d surely die from starvation. Sharp pains in her stomach kept her doubled over much of the time now.
Her nose flared. She smelled something foreign in her surroundings. She squinted, unable to make out the shapes. Survival fueled her painful roll to the end of the mattress. Her stomach growled with the realization he’d left her a slice of pizza and a small paper cup filled with an unknown liquid.
Her blood caked hands trembled as she lifted the cup to her lips. Casey welcomed the tasteless, warm drink as it made its way past her parched lips, and down her raw throat. She forced herself to eat the entire slice of pizza. Despite the fact she hadn’t eaten in days, she fought to keep the cardboard tasting slice down. She knew she had to eat if there was any hope of surviving this nightmare.
The last drops from the cup slid down her throat and the room started to spin. Hot and cold flashes simultaneously ravaged her body. She fell back on the mattress and drew her knees to her chest. Her vision blurred and she struggled to stay conscious.
What is happening to me?
Her eyes fluttered open for the briefest of seconds.
Drugged… there must have been something in…
****
Taylor dragged his ass around the shop trying to focus on his first job of the day. He’d tossed and turned for the remainder of the night after his visitor left. There was no denying the attraction between them, but he couldn’t help but be curious as to her real reason for peeking in his window at the two in the morning. Up until then, he’d hoped she believed him innocent. After last night, he wondered if she believed all the garbage the townspeople were undoubtedly feeding her.
Seth walked toward the bay doors of his shop with an entourage of officers in tow. What the hell do they want? He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, before he wiped his hands on a rag and rounded the front of the car he’d been working on.
Taylor shielded his eyes from the sun. “Good morning. What brings you boys by so early?”
Seth waved a piece of paper toward him. “We have a search warrant, Mr. Danson. I’m really sorry for the inconvenience, but if you’d step out of the shop, we’ll get this over with as fast as possible.”
Anger coursed through his veins. Unable to trust himself, he opted to say nothing. He waved his hand dramatically, ushering them into his shop.
Unfuckingbelievable.
He crossed the parking lot and sat on his bike. He folded his arms across his chest and watched as the team of officers rifled through every inch of his tool chests with little regard for the concerted effort he’d made to keep things in order. They dumped out drawer after drawer. He winced as each tool hit the concrete floor.
He had to wonder if his late night visitor had known about this. Was she trying to get a sneak peek before they served him this morning? How could he have been so wrong about her? Damn fool!
Seth’s polished shoes clicked against the asphalt as he closed the distance between them. The group of officers he’d come with stood huddled outside the bay doors. “I hope you understand how important it is for us to explore every avenue in this investigation, Mr. Danson.”
“I could have saved you all a lot of time. “ Taylor snarled through clenched teeth. “For the record, I want Casey found just as much as the rest of the town does.”
“We have a warrant for your house.” Agent Mann pulled back his shoulders as if readying himself for an altercation. “We can do it now while you stay here, or you can come along with me.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Anger welled up inside him. “You guys are going to feel pretty stupid for wasting valuable time on me, when you could be out looking for the guy who actually has Casey.”
Taylor stormed over to the shop and closed the bay doors. He flipped the sign to ”CLOSED,” and got on his bike. He followed the two cruisers to his house. Once there, he unlocked the front door and sat out in the driveway while a team of strangers ransacked his home.
No wonder people have a bad taste in their mouths when it comes to the feds. They can come into your house whenever they want. With a wave of a piece of paper, they can turn your world upside down, and leave you behind to pick up the pieces. Of course, they’d extend their deepest apology for the disruption. Who the fuck do they think they are?
He dug his foot into the gravel and sprayed the cruiser parked alongside his bike. Assholes.
An hour later, he stood face to face with an apologetic agent. He nodded at the appropriate places, but didn’t utter a word. Without shifting his gaze, he imagined his eyes boring a laser into Seth’s retinas. He turned, walking decisively to his front door. Without so much as a glance back, he ducked inside and slammed the door behind him.
Taylor took a step back at the sight unfolding before him. Every drawer, every cupboard’s contents lay strewn across his house. They’d even taken the covers off the cushions on the couch. Anger gurgled in the pit of his stomach and he clenched the hands hanging at his sides.
“Bastards.”
****
Dianne thrummed her fingers on the worn Formica tabletop. The waitress
stopped asking if she wanted to order food long ago. She refilled her coffee cup at regular intervals, offering her a sympathetic smile each time.
What’s taking them so long?
Seth accepted her excuse for not accompanying the team this morning. If she didn’t stop acting so strange, he’d end up carting her off to the hospital for a checkup. Who could blame him? She hardly recognized herself lately. Last night had been a wake up call of sorts.
What was I thinking?
She knew better than to stake out a suspect without backup. If the higher-ups knew what she did, she’d probably be on indefinite leave.
Seth pulled up out front of the diner, as he got out of the car his blank expression told her nothing of what went down. Her heart jumped to her throat and she swallowed hard. Taylor wasn’t in the back of either cruiser. She let out a long breath and tucked her hair behind her ear. The bell above the door tinkled and her partner crossed the distance between them, seemingly in slow motion.
“Well?” asked Dianne before he had the chance to sit down.
He raised his hands, and shrugged. “Nothing. Zilch. Nada.” He sat down and rubbed his face in his hands. “We wasted an entire morning, and came up empty-handed. Looks like we’re back to square one.”
Sleep deprivation was taking its toll on her partner. Dark circles under his eyes, and he hadn’t shaved in days. Maybe she wasn’t the only one having an identity crisis.
“Well, look at it this way, Seth.” She covered his hands and squeezed. “You can cross Taylor Danson off the list of possible suspects. Why don’t you go next door and grab a shower. You look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks a lot.” He smirked, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “I can’t leave you to man the ship when you’re not feeling well.” He held up an empty coffee cup to the waitress.
“I’m fine, Seth. I just needed to get some food in me. I guess I kind of forgot to eat yesterday with everything going on around here.”
He planted his hands on the edge of the table, and pushed himself upright. He motioned to the waitress who stopped next to him with a coffee pot in her hand. “Sorry, change of plans.” He stifled a yawn.
“No problem.” The efficient waitress topped off her coffee without asking and plopped a handful of creamers down on the table.
“Thanks.”
“Okay, I’m going to take you up on your offer, but I’m only going to take a power nap.” He yawned. “You got to promise to wake me up in two hours.” He held up two fingers. “No more than that.”
“I promise.” Dianne smiled. “I’m going to pay Preacher Adams a visit. Maybe if we put our heads together, we can figure out who this guy is.”
“I hope you do.” Seth walked to the door and stopped before opening it. He gave her a curt nod before he left.
She watched Seth through the window as he jogged over to the car to check if the doors were locked before strolling over to the bed and breakfast. I really lucked out when I got him as a partner. He always seemed genuinely concerned about her, and never once made her feel inferior because of her gender.
The corners of her mouth twitched, elation rose up from her belly. They didn’t find anything.
Her first instincts were right about the Taylor. He wasn’t your typical biker. Her hand flew to her mouth to try and stifle the sharp intake of breath. A vision of Taylor on top of her yielding a baseball bat squashed her elation. I’ll be lucky if the guy ever speaks to me again. Sadly enough, she didn’t blame him one bit.
Her emotions began to spiral out of control. Get a hold of yourself, woman. You’re going to blotch up this case if you don’t give your head a shake.
She needed to get over this mysterious infatuation with the man. Her focus needed to be on Casey. With a decisive nod, she drained her cup and stood. She gave the very appreciative waitress a twenty dollar bill for taking such good care of her. She snatched her blazer from the bench and left the diner. Out front, she lifted her chin and rolled back her shoulders.
Agent Dianne Parker, reporting for duty.
Chapter Five
Insurmountable fear paralyzed her. Casey awoke to find her arms outstretched and tied to a post. Her legs were crossed and tied the same way. Sour bile rose up in her mouth and she choked. Her battered body shuddered as she coughed.
He’s going to crucify me!
Every ounce of energy she had left erupted in a scream. She didn’t recognize the pathetic cry coming from her parched lips. Scream after scream resounded in the small room, halted by the door swinging open. Her captor, dressed in black from head to toe, an oversized hood concealed his face, not unlike the grim reaper.
Casey sobbed uncontrollably. “Please! You can’t do this! I don’t want to die!” She choked out the words between sobs.
For the first time since coming to this hell, her captor spoke. “If I hear one more sound out of you, I will put the tape back on.”
Icy tendrils of fear squeezed her heart. His deep gravelly baritone pierced her very soul. Nothing seemed real, like she was watching a really bad movie.
His gloved hand disappeared in a pocket on his trench coat. The shiny metal blade glinted as it came to sight. “Or maybe you would rather I cut out your tongue?”
Her body went rigid. Tears ran down her face. It took every ounce of control not to allow the screams free reign. The sickening laugh that erupted from his shadowed hood was almost her undoing, but she summoned up strength from a hidden resource and stayed perfectly still.
“I need another picture for your daddy. You just stay still while I make sure it looks just right.”
Her entire body convulsed as he stood mere inches from her face. The material from his hood hung down over his face. He turned the knife from side to side before her eyes and lowered himself to his knees, leaving a trail of sickening warmth from his stank breath.
Hysteria threatened to erupt the countless seconds he kneeled before her. The cold metal blade pressed against the flesh of her stomach. He sunk the tip of the blade in her skin and dragged the blade, repeating the process, over and over again. The sicko is actually carving something on my stomach. Why can’t I feel anything?
Something deep inside of her gave way. Her entire stomach felt on fire. The room swirled around her, and she pleaded with the darkness to take her away.
****
A growing crowd of townspeople shouted out their anger and frustration. Early that morning, the postmaster had opened up the Post Office, to find a ghastly picture of Casey pinned to the board. Witnesses told how Ed Tilbert threw up on his feet before letting out a blood-curdling scream. Two plain clothed officers had discarded their post at the doors and ran to his aid.
Dianne and Seth waded through the cluster of onlookers. One woman clutched her housecoat together, and a man looked their way, his eyes a tad too bright, shaving cream dripped from his chin. Seth stood at the front to try and contain the crowd while she slipped inside.
A small group of officers stood in front of the bulletin board, blocking her view of the picture.
“Did anyone touch the picture?” Her voiced commanded attention, and the officers parted and let her pass. Dianne’s stomach turned and she switched on her internal Agent button.
Young Casey was tied to a crudely made cross. On her stomach resembled the writing of a kindergarten student with a tube of lipstick. The name JEZEBEL flashed across her belly. Blood trickled down from the letters; ending in a pool at her bruised and battered feet.
They were obviously dealing with a demented psychopath. From the message he seemed to be conveying, the church played a big role in her abduction. The New Testament of the bible used the name Jezebel symbolically as a false prophetess who sought to lure men into idolatrous practices. Over time, the name was used to describe women who were thought to be whores and witches. The Jezebel demon spirit supposedly enticed God’s servant to fornication and adultery.
One thing was positively clear, time was running out—the progressive nature of the p
hotos were testament to it. She carefully removed the picture from the board with a set of tweezers and placed it in a clear plastic bag she retrieved from her pocket. She sealed it shut and gave it to one of the officers guarding the entrance.
“I want this sent to head office, stat. Make sure no one, I mean no one, is to see it on your way out of here.”
The officer nodded and put the plastic bag in the inside pocket of his uniform before turning on his heel and marching out of the building. Through the open door, Dianne heard the level of noise from outside escalate. She jogged over to the door in time to see Taylor sitting at the stop sign on his bike. It looked like she wasn’t the only one to notice him.
“There he is! Where is she?”
“Where’s Casey?”
Accusations were being fired off from every direction, making it impossible to tell who said what.
“God damned biker!” Old man Pillar shook his cane at the pale faced biker.
“Listen up, people!” Dianne remained on the top step and shouted out over the crowd. One by one, they turned to face her.
“First off, we don’t know who is responsible for taking Casey. Secondly, after a thorough investigation, Mr. Danson is no longer a suspect.”
The noise level from the crowd rose.
“It’s a trick! He has you all conned. Everyone knows bikers are trouble!” A red faced man lashed out and shook his fist in Taylor’s direction. A thunderous agreement resounded down Main Street.
Dianne watched the rage blazing in Taylor’s eyes as he kept his gaze trained on the man shaking his fist. He flashed a cursory glance in her direction before slipping the bike into gear, and taking off from the corner with a screech of his tires.
She shook her head, the backs of her eyelids prickled as the bike sped out of her sight. The crowd turned their attention back to her. Her gaze roamed over each narrow-minded person in front of her. Hadn’t she also been guilty of judging Taylor because of his lifestyle?
Crucified Page 3