by Dan Padavona
“We can safely rule out that theory.”
“He must have escape routes,” LeVar said. “Otherwise, someone would have caught him by now.”
“We’re assuming a lot. This creep might not be the kidnapper. Can we link Harmony Santos to Lonnie McKinney or Scott Rehbein?”
“Raven and I went door-to-door through Poplar Corners yesterday, and Chelsey spoke with Thomas. We can’t find a common thread connecting Santos to the McKinney family, and nobody had heard of Scott Rehbein before the news reports.”
“It’s possible the kidnapper didn’t know his victims. All I can say is, I’d love to be there the next time this creep shows his face outside a window.”
Scout folded her arms and considered the mystery.
“Following him won’t work. The Poplar Corners ghost has eyes in the back of his head. LeVar came too close to him in the meadow, and he disappeared into the trees before we identified him.”
“The best stalkers and burglars are keenly aware of their surroundings,” Darren said. “We never wanted to admit it when I worked with Syracuse PD. But we caught ninety percent of criminals because they did something stupid. They bragged to their friends about an item they stole. One idiot posted his loot on social media under an assumed name. Like we wouldn’t figure it out.” Darren shifted his jaw. “But the smart ones? We almost never caught them. They’re careful and vigilant.”
“So the ghost watches the neighborhood to ensure nobody is following him,” Scout said.
“Even if we post lookouts in multiple yards, the odds of us catching him are slim.”
“But how often does the ghost look skyward?”
Darren creased his forehead.
“You lost me.”
“Instead of following him through the dark, what if we flew a drone over the neighborhood and monitored the footage from a safe location?”
Darren’s face lit with understanding.
“That’s brilliant. I never would have thought of that. But I don’t know jack about flying drones. Do you?”
Scout pressed her lips together.
“Not really. But how difficult could it be?”
Raven searched for drone prices on the internet and clapped her hands together.
“The electronics store in Syracuse stocks several models. Most are a few hundred bucks. It appears the good ones are five-hundred or more. Do we have the funds to afford a drone?”
“I have a hundred in savings,” Scout said.
“Forget it,” Darren said, pointing at the girl. “You aren’t flipping the bill. I’ll buy it.”
LeVar raised his eyebrows and said, “You don’t have to, bro. We’ll all chip in.”
“I’m not asking two teenagers to empty their bank accounts. This one is on me. But the next time we order pizza—”
“I got you, Skip.”
“All right. It’s settled. Raven and I will drive to Syracuse tomorrow morning and pick up the drone. But do me a favor and don’t crash it through somebody’s window. I don’t need that much drama in my life. Deal?” They agreed. “Now let’s catch this psycho before he hurts someone else.”
34
The soil beneath Deputy Aguilar chilled her skin. Darkness swam around her bruised and listless body.
She blinked twice and clutched her head as a migraine crippled her. Where was she? Out in a field? In the middle of a forest with a starless sky overhead?
No. The dark had borders. Unseen walls pressed in on her. She scrambled to her knees and gasped. Not a field, but a cell. Bars ran from an earthen ceiling to the floor and surrounded her on three sides. She must be dreaming. This was impossible.
Aguilar crawled to the bars and wrapped her hands around the cold iron. They felt real enough. No illusion this time. She shook the bars, but they didn’t budge.
A thin shaft of gray light bled into the cell through an open door. It was impossible to discern what lay beyond the doorway.
To Aguilar’s astonishment, she wasn’t alone. Two identical cells stood to her left. In the middle cell, a naked male lay crumpled in the dirt. He didn’t appear to be breathing. In the next cell, a child stripped to his underwear and a T-shirt curled in a ball in the far corner of the cage. What was happening?
Aguilar’s hands dropped to her body. She was relieved to find no one had stripped her bare. Like the boy, she wore her underwear and the T-shirt she’d hiked in at the state park. A stench hit her nostrils and surged bile into her throat. Human feces and urine. She found the source of the odor in a bucket at the back of the cell. Identical metal buckets stood inside the other cages.
“Where the heck are we?”
The naked male didn’t respond. There was just enough light to see his gaping mouth. A trickle of blood ran from his lips to his neck. His eyes were open. Lifeless. Murdered.
The truth slammed Aguilar’s chest. The man was Scott Rehbein, the missing college student. Which meant the child had to be Lonnie McKinney.
Panic got her moving. She rattled the bars between her cage and the dead student’s. They wouldn’t budge.
Movement in the far cell pulled her attention. The boy sat up and rubbed his eyes. Thank goodness he was alive. The child glanced around in confusion.
“Are you Lonnie McKinney?”
The boy jolted and scurried into the dark corner at the back of the cage.
“It’s all right. Nobody will hurt you. I’m locked up like you.”
A choked sob escaped the boy’s throat.
“He killed Scott,” the boy said, crying.
“Who did?”
“The man. The bad man who pulled me through the window and locked me in this cage.”
Aguilar’s eyes flew to the open door. Her vision adjusted until she made out a cylindrical shape beyond the threshold. A water heater. The heater confirmed her vision when a flame flickered beneath the base.
“Lonnie, where are we?”
The boy shook his head.
“Underground. I don’t know where.”
Aguilar struggled to her feet. Her legs wanted to give out as she dragged her sluggish body toward the front of the cell. The door led to a basement, though the heater concealed the rest of the cellar. Her subterranean cell was attached to a house. This gave her hope. Maybe her abductor had neighbors.
“Have you ever seen him before?”
“Once. In the park. Daddy warned me not to talk to strangers. But I didn’t listen. This is all my fault.”
Aguilar limped across the cell and knelt beside the bars.
“No, it isn’t. You did nothing wrong.”
“I left my window unlocked. That’s how he climbed into my bedroom. Daddy told me to lock the window, but it was so warm.”
“Oh, Lonnie.” Aguilar’s heart clenched. The boy blamed himself for his predicament. What kind of monster kidnaps children and steals them from a loving home? “I’ll get you out of here.”
“That’s what Scott said. And look what happened.”
Lonnie’s eyes fell to the mangled college student. Black and purple bruising colored Scott’s neck. The killer had strangled him.
Was this her fate?
She ran from one side of the cage to the next, shaking the bars and searching for a weak point. The iron held firm. Whoever this maniac was, he’d built a sturdy cell. Aguilar guessed the bars protruded a foot or more into the floor and ceiling. As she tested the cage again, her skin prickled.
Lonnie’s face paled. Aguilar spun around as a shadow moved across the floor.
The man’s face lay hidden. Gray light illuminated him from behind. His frame cast a misshapen silhouette across the soil.
“Good. You’re awake, Deputy.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“Your master,” the stranger chuckled. “Welcome to your new home.”
Aguilar glanced around the cell.
“Where is home?”
“Don’t you wish I’d tell you. Somewhere safe, if you are a good little girl and cooperate. Unl
ike our boy, Scott.”
“Murdering college students, kidnapping a child and a sheriff’s deputy. You’re racking up enough charges to put you away for life.”
“As if your foolish sheriff or the FBI could ever catch me.”
Aguilar swallowed. He already knew about the FBI agents.
“Oh, you’re surprised?” The creep gloated. “I’ve watched you for weeks, Deputy Aguilar. All of you.”
Aguilar strode to the cage and looked up at her captor. She grit her teeth and pounded the bars.
“You’re tough when you sneak up on people. What did you hit me with? A Taser? I should have dropped you in the road and dragged you to the sheriff’s department.”
The man laughed at the ceiling. She made out his face now. He was fair-haired and refined. A wild insanity swam in those intelligent eyes.
“Look at you. So muscular and boastful and sure of yourself. What good did those muscles do you? I bested you, my girl, just as I did poor Scott when he challenged my authority.”
“You needed a weapon to take me down.”
“The only weapon I require is my mind,” he said, tapping his forehead. “I outsmarted you.” The stranger tutted. “Poor Deputy Aguilar. Always helping others and trying to do the right thing. Yet it’s never enough. You shot a corrupt police officer, and the county forced you into therapy, taking away your womanhood, your purpose in life.”
“How did you—”
“I read about you. Your story is as fascinating as it is tragic. But you’re a coward, like your sheriff friend.”
The creep lunged at the bars. Aguilar slunk away. He grinned in victory.
“You’re a failure who’s afraid of her own shadow. Submit to my authority and become one of the family, and I swear I’ll do you no harm.”
“You’re insane.”
“No, I’m in control.” He gestured at the cells. “This is my creation, and you are my pets.”
“You can’t lock us up forever.”
“These iron bars, the key in my pocket, and my superior ingenuity all say I can. Admit it. I won, you lost.”
Aguilar padded back to the bars and met his glare. He shot her a condescending smile.
“Tell you what, loser. I’ll admit you beat me. Since you have me locked up, you don’t need the child. Let Lonnie go.”
“You’re in no position to make demands.”
“It’s the right thing to do. Lonnie did nothing to you. Why take your psycho frustrations out on him?”
“Who says I’m frustrated? Perhaps I enjoy the company of a well-behaved pet.”
“Stop calling me that.”
A snicker.
“I’ll call you what you are. Don’t test me like Scott did. He challenged me and lost.”
“You murdered him in front of a four-year-old child. What kind of animal are you?”
“An animal at the top of the food chain.” The creep stuck his face between the bars and leered, running his gaze down her bare flesh. “If I chose, I could slip the key into the lock, open the door, and take you in front of the boy. Show you what it’s like to be with a real man. You’d be powerless to stop me.”
“I dare you.”
“Oh, we’ll have fun together, Deputy Aguilar.” His tongue slid across his lips. “And when I’m finished with you, you’ll know me as your God.”
35
Thomas knew something was wrong when Deputy Aguilar didn’t show up for her eight o’clock shift. Aguilar never overslept. Since the Avery Neal shooting, even when the deputy was at her most sullen, she remained punctual and dedicated. Aguilar hadn’t answered phone calls or replied to texts. At ten, Thomas sent Lambert to her house. He knocked, but no one answered.
His anxiety exploded when a boater discovered a red RAV4 submerged in Wolf Lake. The plates matched Aguilar’s vehicle. Divers searched the water for a body and found nothing. The awful truth struck Thomas between the eyes. The killer had taken Aguilar. There were no signs of an accident, no skid marks on the blacktop where her SUV left the road. Somehow, the killer coerced Aguilar out of her vehicle and abducted her.
Now Thomas drove home on the same stretch of road Aguilar disappeared on. He stopped along the shoulder and peered over the cliff, studying the water. A state trooper’s vessel bobbed with the current. They were using sonar to search for Aguilar’s body.
Thomas had done this to her. The killer promised he’d take a family member from Thomas if he didn’t apologize on television. After positioning an unmarked deputy’s vehicle outside his mother’s house, he’d believed his family was safe. What a fool he’d been. His friends and coworkers were family to him, and the killer knew.
Thomas called Agent Bell. She picked up on the first ring.
“No news so far, Sheriff,” Bell said.
“What about Aguilar’s cell? Can’t we trace it?”
“Agent Gardy and I are working with the cell company. Deputy Aguilar’s phone hasn’t been used since last evening at eight-thirty on the lake road. Either the battery died, or someone removed it.”
“I’ll wager on the latter.”
“Where are you?”
“At the lake. I’m heading home to ensure my neighbors are safe. They’re the next targets, Agent Bell.”
“We won’t allow that to happen.” Bell turned away as Gardy spoke in the background. “We’re about to talk with the IT coordinator at the cell company. Gotta run. I’ll keep you posted.”
Thomas gunned the engine and raced home. He screeched to a stop outside his driveway and unlocked the door, expecting to find Jack and Chelsey. She’d told him she’d meet Thomas at the A-frame. The house was empty.
“Chelsey? Jack?”
Nothing.
He reached for his radio when the deck door slid open. Thomas brought his gun up and released a breath.
“Whoa, it’s only me,” Chelsey said, holding her hands in the air.
Thomas sighed and slid the gun into his holster.
“Your car isn’t in the driveway.”
“I parked at the Mourning’s. Naomi needed help to get Scout inside.”
He lifted his hands and glanced around.
“Where the heck is Jack?”
“LeVar took him to the state park. What’s the latest on Deputy Aguilar?”
Thomas scrubbed a hand down his face. A noise pulled his eyes to the ceiling. Something. The house settling?
“No signal on her cell, and the divers didn’t find a body.”
“That’s a good sign, right?”
“The current isn’t strong enough to drag her out. There’s no doubt in my mind. He took her. And I’m to blame.”
“Don’t do that to yourself,” Chelsey said, wrapping her arms around him. “It’s like Agent Bell said. The unsub is escalating. He would have taken someone, regardless—”
“But he kidnapped Aguilar. I made it personal, and now he’s going after the people I care about.”
“We’ll find her. This psycho holds his victims for a week before he kills them, right?”
“That was one kid. Gardy and Bell haven’t established a definitive pattern. The unsub changes his routine so we won’t catch him.”
She rubbed the knot out of his shoulders.
“Stay positive. He bit off more than he can chew with Aguilar.”
“Well, he figured out how to catch her and dumped her SUV in the lake with no one noticing.” The phone hummed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen. “That’s Agent Gardy.”
Gardy sounded harried when Thomas answered.
“Are you home?”
“I arrived two minutes ago. Chelsey is here. What’s going on?”
“Thomas, we’re sending a cruiser to your location. Aguilar’s phone started working again. We traced the location.”
Thomas widened his eyes as Chelsey stared at him.
“Where’s her phone?”
“Inside your house.” Heavy silence fell over the room. “Thomas?”
“I’ll talk to you
in a second, Gardy. There’s something I need to deal with.”
Gardy was still talking when Thomas set the phone in Chelsey’s hand. He lifted his gaze to the ceiling.
“Thomas, what’s going on?”
“There’s someone in the house,” he whispered.
“What?”
He knew every creak, every groan in the A-frame and had memorized where the squeaky boards lay. Thomas held his breath and listened.
The sound came again. A subtle moan as someone moved across the upstairs landing. Chelsey’s eyes lit with understanding. She’d heard the noise.
“Thomas?” Gardy’s frantic voice came through the phone. “Are you still there?”
Thomas leaned close and whispered in Chelsey’s ear.
“Talk to Gardy. Be casual and carry on as if nothing is going on and I’m in the room with you.”
Reading his intentions, she shook her head. He slid the gun from his holster and motioned for Chelsey to continue talking. Then he slipped from the kitchen and stood with his back against the wall, eyes angled up the stairs and toward the empty landing. Behind him, Chelsey rattled on with Gardy about something banal. But he read between the lines. The cruiser was two minutes away from his house.
Thomas swung off the wall and aimed his gun up the stairway. He swept it from one end of the landing to the next. The bathroom and bedroom doors stood closed. He always left the doors open, so the air didn’t stale. One hand on the banister, Thomas pulled himself onto the first step and stopped. A dull thud came from behind his bedroom door. He looked back at Chelsey, who’d wandered to the border between the kitchen and living room. She had her own gun in her hand, the phone still pressed to her ear as she talked about Deputy Aguilar and how worried they all were. Thomas wondered if Gardy was still on the phone.
He crept up the stairs, his palms slick with sweat, heart like thunder in his ears. A squeaky board lay on the landing between the bathroom and the rail. He gave it a wide berth and arced toward his bedroom. Listened again. He could hear the lake and the wind. Outside, a siren wailed. Thomas cringed. The siren would tip off the intruder.
He stood beside the door, grabbed the knob, and whipped the door open. He swept his gun around the corner. The bedroom was empty. The window stood open, drapes fluttering as wind rushed inside.