by Dan Padavona
She was about to ask Lerner another question when Gardy walked over, the phone back in his pocket.
“So Alan Hodge grew up in two different foster homes, the first in the northeastern corner of Pennsylvania, the last in Irondequoit outside Rochester. Nothing out of the ordinary we found about the Pennsylvania location. An older couple raised Hodge until he was five, but they gave him up after the father died and the mother fell ill.”
An abusive childhood stood center in Bell’s pattern. Although multiple foster homes pointed at a disjointed upbringing, it didn't imply maltreatment.
“What about the next family?”
“Not a family. One woman: Rhonda Winston. Turns out the police were called to her house on three separate occasions for suspected abuse, but none of the charges stuck. The catch is Winston was arrested for heroin possession after Hodge turned eighteen and moved. While the officers searched the premises, they discovered a cramped crawlspace in the basement with a dirty cot shoved inside. A couple of children’s toys, as well.”
“My God.”
“Bell, there were leather straps on the side of the cot. Looked like she tied the boy down and locked him inside the crawlspace.”
The image came unbidden to her. The filthy cot, probably dotted with vermin droppings. A bare bulb swinging like a hangman. Darkness. His mother’s abusive screams. Insanity.
Even Lerner slumped his shoulders as though struck. Bell sifted through the scope of the abuse. Was he beaten? Molested? The background fit. Explained how Hodge’s fantasies began and why he needed to be alone with the victim.
“It’s him. It has to be Hodge.”
“There’s something else.” Apprehension crawled on centipede legs down Bell’s spine. “Rhonda Winston went missing two weeks ago.”
“He killed the mother.”
“We don’t know that.”
Yet they did. It was plain on Gardy’s face as they walked back to the vehicles. Bell was right about the killer just getting started, except Kacy Deering was his second victim.
“Sheriff,” Gardy said, climbing into the Accord. “Call the station and dig up anything you can on Alan Hodge. Bell’s right about the need for privacy. Does he have a shop or warehouse he works out of?”
“Good question. I’ll have Crandall check the village records.”
“Do that, and get back to me as soon as you find something.”
“Where are you going?”
“Hodge’s house.”
Gardy shifted into drive. The sheriff yelled something over the engine noise about not having a warrant. Bell’s hands trembled as the Accord hugged the curves of Coral Hill.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“It can’t be in the center of the village. Hodge has to work in privacy.”
The road flew at the windshield as Bell clutched her phone and waited for Lerner to reply. She heard the sheriff shuffe papers, then fingers clacked away on a keyboard.
The village was lit in orange as the sun descended into Coral Lake. The car lurched to a stop at a red light.
“Just go through,” she mouthed to Gardy. But he couldn’t. A train of pedestrians was crossing in front of him. “Come on, Sheriff. There has to be something.”
Lerner’s voice warbled through the speaker.
“Nothing yet, but…hold on, I’ve got Crandall on the other line.”
Bell watched the houses move by slower now. Gardy had turned off the main road onto Canal Street. A scattering of modest and upscale homes lined the road. Lawns were well kept, the landscaping manicured. Hodge’s home was the third property from the corner. It was a small, white two-story, so nondescript it appeared to hide in plain sight. A short concrete walkway led to a set of gray stairs. A screened-in porch fronted the door. Through the screen’s haze Bell could see a rocking chair, table, and what appeared to be the remnants of an old washing machine.
The car hadn’t come to a complete stop when Bell threw open the door. Gardy snagged her shirt before she could jump.
“Will you slow down?”
“We both know it’s Hodge.”
“And we don’t have a warrant, not even probable cause to search the house.”
She threw Gardy’s hand off her shoulder.
“He might be killing her right now. I’ll take my chances on—”
Lerner’s voice cut her off. She’d forgotten about him.
“Repeat, Sheriff.”
“Agent Bell, I just got off the phone with Deputy Crandall. He says Hodge owns land on the west side of the lake. A half-mile north of the Jepsen-Burns interchange. There are about four square miles of undeveloped land, mostly used by the locals for nature walks and hiking. Hodge’s property sits about a hundred yards above the lake.”
She scrolled through a GPS map until she found the interchange. She followed the map northward and saw the forest. Her heart drummed harder.
“I see it.”
“Good. Because we can move on him now. One of Angela Thiele’s coworkers recognized Hodge’s van at the pharmacy last night. Says she only noticed because he was parked in the employee’s section, right up against Thiele’s Rogue.”
“To prevent her from opening the door.”
“Right. The girl went inside to tell Angela how close the van was to her father’s vehicle, just in case Hodge scratched it, but Angela was already gone.”
A shiver rolled through Bell. There was a good chance Angela was already inside Hodge’s van when the coworker noticed. It was a small measure of luck he hadn’t captured the other girl, too.
“Someone recognized Hodge’s van parked beside Angela at the pharmacy last night,” she said to Gardy.
Gardy cocked his head out the window and examined the empty driveway.
“That qualifies as probable cause in my book. I don’t see his van, though.”
“He’s not here, Gardy. Hodge owns undeveloped land on the west side of the lake.”
“Do we have an address?”
“Working on that right now.”
Setting the GPS to the approximate coordinates of Hodge’s forestland, Bell pressed start and read the directions.
“We’re sending two cars to his place on Canal Street,” Lerner said. She’d sent his voice through the car speakers so they could both listen.
“That’s fine, Sheriff,” said Gardy, wheeling the Accord around. “But I seriously doubt he’s here.”
“I’ll have my men check the house regardless and meet you on the west side of the lake. I already put a bulletin out for Hodge’s van.”
“Good work, Sheriff. We’ll be there in five.”
Gardy took the corner hard into the village center. Darkness descended on the village as the Accord motored toward the west side of the lake.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The footsteps were right behind Angela as she struggled down the hill. She thought she could outrun Hodge, but he was faster than she believed possible as he hurtled down the hill on momentum.
He tackled her in the grass, and the ropes sprang apart. Her hands free, she jumped to her feet before he collapsed down on her.
His fingers grasped her hair, and she spun and slapped his hands away. She backed up and lost her footing. Struck the ground. Her vision went blurry as the air whistled out of her lungs.
He pounced on her, all girth and muscle. One hand gripped her neck as the other cocked back in a fist. She bridged hard and jabbed her fingers into his eyes.
Still straddling her stomach, Hodge yelled and grasped his face. Angela bridged again and twisted, and this time Hodge rolled off. As she climbed to her feet and ran for the road, he blindly swiped his hand out and clutched her ankle. She screamed and fell. The road was so close. Only fifty feet away. If anyone drove past, they’d see the struggle and come to her aid. But there was nobody. Just the empty clearing and the growing darkness. And Hodge’s insane bellowing.
Angela felt herself dragged backward. He still had one hand around her ankle. The other massaged his eyes. He was too s
trong. No way she could kick free.
Instead, she allowed Hodge to drag her, and when he was close, she kicked her free foot into his groin and toppled him.
The bastard refused to release his grip. She yelled for help and slammed the back of her other foot down on his hand. And again. This time his hand opened, and she scurried away as he lay curled on the ground.
Angela willed her legs to work. Her knees kept folding when she tried to stand. He came after her on all fours. Called her traitor. Promised she would pay for turning on him, for abandoning Kacy.
The starlit lake was just below the road. The water called to her. So many fond memories were tied to the lake. Boating with her parents when she was a child. Skipping school on the first warm day of spring with Terri, letting the sun bake their bikini-clad bodies. The timeline of her life was tied to watching the sun rise and set over this lake.
She couldn’t die here. Wouldn’t allow him to take her life.
So she crawled faster as he closed the distance between them. The ground cut into her bare knees, scraped at her palms.
A strange mantra played around in her head. If she could make it to the lake, everything would be okay. Hope buoyed when she heard the approaching engine.
She was a few feet from the road when his hands closed around her neck.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Bell unbuckled the seatbelt and leaned forward. A loaded spring ready to explode. Gardy sneaked a glance at her, but the tree-lined road accelerated at the windshield and forced him to focus on driving.
In the headlight beams she saw the trail branch off to the right.
“There! I see it.”
He slammed the brakes and fishtailed the Accord. The path came up on them too fast, forcing Gardy to back up and yank hard on the steering wheel to make the turn.
The car jounced over rocks and miniature hillocks as it climbed. Trees leaned over the trail. In the dark they appeared as deformed beasts, their branches claws that would rake Bell’s eyes out when she exited the vehicle.
Lerner’s voice came through the speakers. The sheriff was halfway to the village and would reach their location in fifteen minutes.
Bell rolled down the window and leaned her head out. She searched for any indication of Hodge’s lair. It had to be here somewhere. This was where he took the girls.
“We’ll find her,” Gardy said.
The Accord hugged a hard curve. The spike strips vaulted out of the ground.
Gardy braked too late. The jagged teeth tore into the tires with shotgun pops. Momentum jerked the back end of the car toward the forest. Then they shot sideways down the incline. The trees rushing at them. Gardy pulling on the wheel.
The driver side barreled into the trees. An awful crunch of metal and glass.
Gardy’s head struck the window and ricocheted. She watched his eyes roll back into his skull as the seatbelt clutched his shoulder and neck.
It was quiet now. The radio was dead. Night sounds swelled around the vehicle.
Bell tried to rouse him, but Gardy didn’t respond. She didn’t dare touch him. Worried over spinal injuries. His neck lolled over against a backdrop of crumpled glass. To her relief he breathed.
Her door was jammed. She needed to force it open with her shoulder, but when she stepped down it felt as if someone drove a lance through her knee.
Bell’s legs buckled. She leaned on all fours. Bloody drool trickled off her lips, and she swiped it away with her hand.
Trembling, she struggled to her feet and limped a few inches at a time until her knee reluctantly agreed to support her weight. She walked in absolute darkness and searched for the trail.
“I’m coming back for you,” she promised the man in the car. “I’ll get help.”
Gardy didn’t respond. She watched him in silhouette, slumped over and lifeless, a marionette propped up by the seatbelt. It killed her to leave him, but she had to find Angela.
She flicked on her handheld radio to dead silence. Broken. When that failed she used her phone to dial the sheriff’s number. It took several rings before he answered.
“Lerner?”
“That you, Agent Bell?”
“I need an ambulance. Agent Gardy’s hurt.”
He stammered over the growl of his engine. If she used her imagination, she thought she heard the Ram’s motor on the ridge. He couldn’t be more than ten minutes away.
“Shit. Okay, stay calm. Are you injured?”
“I’m fine. Just get help for Gardy.”
She’d wandered up the trail for over a minute when she saw the wooden bulk of the shed growing out of the earth. She threw herself inside the shadow of an elm tree.
It was dark inside the shed, no hint of light bleeding around the door. Her hand moved to her hip and removed the Glock-22.
She was breathing too fast. Getting lightheaded. The night seemed to swallow everything except the shed as she cautiously approached.
With her back against the wall, she reached for the door latch. Counted to three while muttering a prayer inside her head.
Bell whipped open the door and spun into the entryway, gun raised. The dark rolled out to greet her. Darkness and a carrion scent.
She turned on the flashlight and saw the girl on the cot. A teenager. Stiff. Rigor mortis already setting in. Her heart fell before she inched forward and saw it was a mannequin. In the gloom it looked real. The little girl inside her worried the mannequin would suddenly sit up.
Swiping the light around, she stared at the blood-smeared pelt atop its head. Kacy. Her stomach turned.
Leather straps hung off the cot. Hodge had recreated his nightmarish childhood.
The shed was otherwise empty. Just the cot and a single bulb affixed to the ceiling. Wires ran through the roof, undoubtedly to a solar panel. A generator would make too much noise and attract attention.
So where were Angela and Hodge?
A flare of hope told her Angela escaped and Hodge was in pursuit. If so they could be anywhere in the forest. Bell forced herself to admit she needed help. The area was too large to canvas by herself, and her knee seemed to be held together by frayed strings.
In the corner lay a toolbox. Peeking her head through the entryway, she confirmed the clearing was empty and closed the door.
Bell opened the toolbox and removed the top compartment. Beneath lay a stack of photographs. She thumbed through the candid pictures of Kacy and Angela, some apparently taken inside the girls’ homes while Hodge worked. And another girl, a pretty teen Bell didn’t recognize. His next target.
She closed the shed. The forest thickened behind the shed where Hodge’s land ended. The trail led back to the road and lake. Somewhere along the way was the Accord. And Gardy.
Fireflies ignited the air as she walked, keeping to the grass in case Hodge was watching the trail. Help was late in arriving. Bell should have heard Lerner’s truck by now.
A cool wind blew off the lake, whipping at her face and making it difficult to discern noises. Whispering another promise to help Gardy, she made it back to the road and knelt amid an overgrowth of weed and grasses.
His footsteps approached before she swung around with the gun.
Hodge struck her from behind and sent her reeling. She fell forward as he drove his weight down on her back. The overgrowth claimed the gun and hid it from Bell as she desperately groped through the darkness.
His hands clutched her neck and squeezed. Reaching up, she grabbed the back of his head and tried to flip him over. Hodge was too strong. He muscled his neck backward and broke her grip, then he rose and crashed down on her spine, driving the air from her lungs.
She coughed and sucked the night air into her chest. Bell ran her legs along the ground and attempted to squirm out from underneath. His hands closed around her neck again. The thick meat of his fingertips dug into her windpipe while he thrust down on the small of her back.
Then he clutched her by the hair and drove her face into the dirt. Ripped her head up and
smashed it down again.
Blood poured from her nose. She tasted it on her lips.
He lifted her head and drove it into the ground again, this time grinding her face into the earth.
Toying with her.
She strained her back trying to rise. His weight was fully upon her, making it impossible to throw him off.
The terrain spun when he resumed choking her. A terrible wheeze came from her throat when she tried to inhale. Her vision failed as she started to lose consciousness.
He crept higher up her back. Increasing his leverage, she knew. Bell used the opportunity to crawl onto her knees.
She would die if she didn’t free herself in the next few seconds. Unable to breathe, she felt the fight drain out of her. She bent forward and whipped her head back. It struck Hodge’s face flush. His grip weakened, yet he continued to strangle her. Bell cracked her head against his face again, and Hodge fell backward holding his nose.
Blood gushed between his fingers as Bell croaked and coughed. She couldn’t suck the air back into her lungs quickly enough.
Pins-and-needles coursed through her arms as she struggled onto all fours. He rose behind her as she forced herself to crawl into the road.
The macadam dug into her knees. Ahead, the lake sloshed against the shoreline. She imagined the sheriff’s truck coming around the bend and cutting her in half as she continued to crawl. Her will to survive kept her from fainting, wouldn’t allow her to stop.
Hodge caught her in the road. He booted Bell in the ribs and crumpled her. She curled up as he kicked her again, the impact driving spikes of pain through her ribcage. She swiped at his leg, but he had her by the hair now. Pulling her across the blacktop. Dragging her over the gravel shoulder toward the water.