Devil's Gold

by Amanda McKinney

  Dixie rolled her eyes and then said, “I asked Agnes about that, too, and she said that Lizzie accidentally saw her chained to the wall the other day, as she glanced in the window while passing by the house. Marden obviously freaked out, and stole the hair tie from Lizzie’s car to voodoo her, or curse her, or something. The poor black cat was part of the curse, according to Agnes.”

  “Sounds like the voodoo worked considering Lizzie died the next day… she’s sure Balik didn’t leave the house? Monday or today?”

  Dixie shrugged. “I really don’t think Agnes would lie to cover for her sister, who’s held her captive for forty years.”

  Her cell phone rang and as she pulled it from her pocket, Zander put his hand on his shoulder. “Nice job solving a forty-year-old cold case, Dix.”

  “We’ve still got a serial killer to find.” She stepped aside. “Dixie here.”

  “Yo, Dix, it’s Ace. I just pulled the orders from Banshee’s Brew and, bingo, we’ve got a special-order from a few weeks ago for a case of Chateaux LaRouse. No name, but we’ve got an address.”

  Excitement shot through her. “Give it to me.”

  “Six-sixty Goldview Road.”

  “Thanks.”

  Click.

  Dixie jumped in her truck and pulled onto the road as an ambulance pulled in behind the police cars. Zander was in for a hell of a night.

  She grabbed her cell phone and dialed Liam’s number.

  Voicemail.

  “Liam, hey it’s Dixie. I’ve got a lead that I’m going to quickly follow-up on. If I’m not at the office when you get there, wait on me. I shouldn’t be long.”

  She clicked off her phone and glanced at the clock—nine-thirty. According to her GPS, Goldview Road was only ten minutes away.

  Adrenaline pumped through her as she drove down the road. This was her first solid lead, and something in her gut told her she was onto something.

  She flicked on her turn signal and turned onto a narrow road that cut down the middle of manicured woods, snow-covered pastures and fancy wooden fences.

  She slowed as she neared a mailbox—660. This was it. She peered at the large, brick mansion. No lights on, no cars out front. It appeared that no one was home.

  She tapped the steering wheel, contemplating her next move.

  Maybe just a few minutes looking around…

  She flicked off the headlights, slowly drove up the driveway, parked, and got out.

  Every room was dark except for a dim glow from a back window. She glanced over her shoulder before quietly walking down the edge of the house.

  Her heart began to race as she neared the window, and ignoring the nagging in her head to turn around and go back, she pressed up on her tiptoes and peered into, what appeared to be, the master bathroom.

  The windowsill was lined with candles, face creams and lotions. She squinted and leaned closer—and her heart stopped.

  Her eyes rounded, her mouth dropped open.

  Sitting in the middle of the ledge was a gold bottle named 24K Illuminator—a luxury body lotion infused with microscopic specks of real gold.

  She gasped, pushed back, and as she started to turn—click.

  She froze as the tip of a gun pressed into the back of her skull.

  CHAPTER 17

  With a bag of chicken fingers, french fries and two chocolate milkshakes, Liam turned onto the long driveway that led to Black Rose Investigations.

  His phone beeped, alerting him to a new voicemail. He frowned—he must’ve missed a call while he was getting the food.

  He listened to Dixie’s message.

  Shit. He shook his head. Dixie was following up on a new lead. Dammit. There goes his plan for keeping her in his sights until the FBI got to town.

  He started to dial her number when an incoming call blinked on the screen.

  “Liam here.”

  “Hey, it’s Rick.”

  Something in Rick’s voice had Liam’s back straightening. “What’s going on?”

  “I got your message, but first, I just ran the list of employees at Den Care Clinic, and everyone’s clean—no records, nothing suspicious. But then, I cross-referenced the list with everything I have on Terra and Maria’s case and… something popped up.”

  His pulse picked up. “Yeah?”

  “One of the employees has a vacation home in Louisiana, and according to his credit cards, he was there at the time of both Terra and Maria’s murders… and he’s in Devil’s Den now.”

  His heart skipped a beat. “Give me a name.”

  “Edward Rossi.”

  Liam slammed the brakes and shoved the truck into reverse. “Get me an address.”

  Pause. “Liam, I called you first, but I’m going to be honest with you—the second we hang up, I’m sending this up the chain. Agents will be there within the hour.”

  Within the hour. Liam knew all too well how many horrific things could happen within an hour.

  The truck skidded onto the road and he slammed down the gas. “What’s the address, Rick?”

  “Six-sixty Goldview.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “I assumed that.”

  Liam hung up, ice-cold panic bursting through his veins. Is this the lead Dixie was following up on?

  He sped down the road and punched the address into his GPS—he was less than seven minutes away.

  He dialed Dixie’s number.

  “Hi, you’ve reached Dixie, I’m sorry I’m…”

  “Dammit!” He tossed the phone on the passenger seat, gripped the steering wheel and tried to ease his racing pulse. He had to calm down. The last thing Dixie needed was his hot-headed ass hitting a patch of ice and sliding off a cliff before it was too late.

  Too late.

  His gut clenched.

  ***

  Dixie’s heart pounded as the gun pressed harder into her skull.

  She began to slowly slide her hand into her jacket when she remembered she’d left her gun in the truck—fuck!

  “What the hell are you doing at my house… Dixie, right? The ball-busting private investigator.”

  She recognized the voice—low and deep. She desperately searched her memory, but between the gun to her head, and the fear pulsing through her veins, she couldn’t connect the voice to a name. She had heard it recently though, she was sure of it. And, she also had no doubt that both Lizzie Meyers and Tanya White had heard the same voice recently as well.

  She clenched her jaw as anger begin to mix with the fear. She should have known—the gold specks found on the bludgeoned victims was from the murderer’s luxury body cream.

  Son of a bitch.

  He tapped the barrel of the gun against her head. “Walk.”

  Her legs felt like lead weight as she took the first step.

  “To the patio, to the back door.”

  She felt his eyes burning through her as she slowly walked down the side of the house.

  He released a low groan that made her stomach curdle. “You’ve got less curves than I’m used to.”

  Her breath stopped, her eyes rounded in terror.

  He continued, “Less than Lizzie and Tanya, but that’s alright, as long as you can get on your knees, and open your mouth.”

  She froze, the panic momentarily paralyzing her.

  Suddenly, a blow to the back of her head had her stumbling forward.

  “Let’s go. Pick up the pace.”

  Pain pulsed through her skull, sending a fresh wave of fear through her body. Images of Lizzie and Tanya’s naked bodies and bloodied heads flashed through her brain. Chill bumps ran over her arms.

  No, you will not be next. You will not be his next victim.

  As she stepped onto the patio, she looked for any kind of weapon. Her hands were unbound, which was to her advantage, but the gun pointed at her head, on the other hand, was not.

  The spacious patio had a pool, fire pit, outdoor kitchen and covered seating area with a big screen television.

  This gu
y had some money.

  Her eyes darted around the outdoor kitchen—no knives, no pots or pans, glass bottles, nothing.

  Keeping looking, Dixie. There’s got to be something.

  “To the back door.”

  Do not go inside. Do not go inside. She knew that with most abduction cases, a victim’s survival rate decreased significantly as soon as they got into the abductor’s vehicle. She assumed a house was no different.

  Panic started to take hold as she walked closer to the back door. Her mind raced trying to place the voice of the man who was forcing her into his home.

  A gust of wind sent snow swirling around the potted evergreen trees that lined the wall, and her eyes landed on a small pair of pruning shears leaning against one of the pots.

  Hope sparked through her. This was her chance.

  As she neared the pot, her adrenaline—fear, hope, nerves—surged.

  You can do this Dixie, it’s your only shot.

  She thought of Lizzie and Tanya and how their lives were cut mercilessly short. She would not be next.

  She lunged forward and grabbed the shears. And as she spun around to fight, the blast knocked her off her feet, sending the shears flying into the air. She landed on her back with a thud and everything around her became a blur. The world started to spin, the pain started to register.

  The warmth of the blood began to spread over her stomach as she slipped away, into darkness.

  ***

  Liam slid around a tight corner, and pressed the gas. He squinted to see ahead as the fences and manicured grounds zoomed past the windows.

  He glanced down at the GPS—the destination was fifty-feet ahead, on the right.

  His heart hammered in his chest.

  Would he be too late?

  He passed the mailbox, slammed the brakes, and turned onto the driveway.

  Sweat beaded on his forehead as he skidded to a stop behind Dixie’s truck. He grabbed his gun from the passenger seat and jumped out.

  The hair on the back of his neck prickled—Dixie was in danger, he knew it.

  Like the flick of a light, he switched to military mode. This was a recon mission… for the woman who had stolen his heart.

  After one quick inhale to steady himself, he took off toward the house, moving silently along the shadows like an animal hunting its prey.

  A light turned on.

  He pressed his back against the wall and held his breath.

  The light turned off, and then another light flicked on, in another room.

  He moved along the side of the house, following the path of the light.

  As he neared the back, he heard a door open and slap shut, and the patio light turned on.

  He slid his finger over the trigger, and stealthily stepped to the very edge of the house, watching the shadow of a silhouette stretch across the yard.

  It was carrying something.

  He inhaled, raised his gun, and stepped out of the shadows, and faced the patio.

  Shock momentarily paralyzed him.

  In a pool of blood, Dixie lay motionless by the back door, and standing next to her was Edward Rossi, with a tarp over slung over his shoulder.

  Rage flooded his veins as he surged onto the porch.

  Edward spun around—dropping the tarp—and pulled the gun from his coat.

  Liam lunged forward and grabbed his arm. The gun tumbled to the ground as Edward sent an elbow into Liam’s face, and kicked his gun from his hand.

  Blood trickled down Liam’s chin, the metallic taste seeping into his mouth. Blind with rage now, he slammed his fist into Edward’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward. He grabbed Edward’s shirt and punched him again, and again, and again. Blood splattered on the side of the house, and the crunch of Edward’s nose breaking vibrated through the air. As Edward doubled-over, writhing in pain, Liam crushed his knee into Edward’s face, knocking him out, and sending him tumbling off the deck.

  He spun around and dropped to his knees.

  “Dixie!”

  His eyes darted over her body. Snowflakes dusted her long dark hair, her face was as white as a ghost.

  The blood from a gunshot wound saturated her stomach.

  Terror ripped through him and he grabbed his cell phone.

  “I need a medic to six-sixty Goldview, now!”

  CHAPTER 18

  Thirty-six hours later…

  Dixie opened her eyes, blinking away the blurriness.

  “Good morning.”

  His voice was as comforting as a warm embrace. She turned her head, and smiled. “Good morning.”

  Liam stood from his chair, which was pressed against her hospital bed. “How are you feeling?”

  She paused for a moment as the events of the last two days unjumbled through her medicated haze.

  “I feel good, better.”

  He smiled. “Intravenous pain meds will do that to you. Do you want some coffee?”

  “Yes.”

  She started to push herself up and Liam gently grabbed her arm. “Wait… here, let me help.” He stacked a few extra pillows behind her, lifted the bed, and eased her forward.

  She winced at the pain in her stomach, although quickly remembering just how lucky she was.

  Minutes after Liam had rescued Dixie from bleeding to death on Edward Rossi’s patio, the house was swarmed by police, FBI agents, and medics. Dixie was rushed to the hospital where she was treated for a gunshot wound to her stomach—which, luckily had gone straight through her body, missing her internal organs. According to her doctor, the bullet missed her spleen by “a hair.”

  Luck had been on her side… well, luck and Liam Cash.

  The hospital door opened and a nurse scurried in, taking a quick glance at the hunky man towering over Dixie’s bed. Dixie grinned.

  After recording her stats, the nurse checked Dixie’s wound.

  Liam slid his hand over hers as the nurse carefully lifted her gown and peeled back the bandage. As the adhesive tore away from Dixie’s skin, she lightly inhaled and looked at Liam, and was startled by his expression. His jaw was set, his stance was rigid, and fire spilled from his eyes as he looked at the jagged scar on her stomach.

  She squeezed his hand, shaking him from the rage boiling inside of him.

  He looked at her, his face softening minimally.

  She smiled, winked.

  He exhaled and seemed to relax, slightly.

  The nurse placed a fresh bandage over her skin. “You’re doing great, Dixie, your stitches, everything. You’re healing extraordinarily quickly.” Her smile faded and a look of concern washed over her face. She glanced at Liam before looking back down at Dixie. “There’s some agents outside, to see you.”

  She inhaled, nodded. “I’m ready to talk to them.”

  Liam stepped forward. “Ma’am, give Dixie and me a minute to speak before you send them in, and would you mind ordering some coffee for her, please.”

  “Of course.” The nurse sent one more look of pity toward Dixie and then quietly left the room.

  Dixie turned to Liam, knowing he was going to protest. “I want to talk to them, I promise, I’m feeling better. I can handle it. But… can you update me on everything that’s happened since I’ve been out? I’d rather hear it from you.”

  He hesitated, his eyes turning ice-cold, and she could see the pain and anger the last thirty-six hours had brought him.

  “Please, tell me Liam, and don’t leave anything out.”

  After a moment, he said, “Edward is behind bars and is being charged with the murders of Terra Voss, Maria Nolen, Lizzie Meyers and Tanya White… and for attempted murder…” He paused, his cheeks flushing with anger.

  “For me.”

  “Right.” He began pacing—a feeble attempt to release the adrenaline pumping through his body.

  “Is Edward talking? Confessing?”

  “No. But the lotion with the gold specks in his bathroom links him to all four women, and, they found a burner phone in his house, and
have confirmed that it’s the phone he used to communicate with Lizzie and Tanya. They also found encrypted emails buried in his laptop. He’s a psychotic son of a bitch that would play games with the girls, each love affair was a secret. A twisted, sick game. He would buy them gifts, seduce them and then kill them. And all four women looked the same—blonde hair, same personality types. They’re stacking mounds of evidence against him now.”

  “Does he have a black truck? Marden Balik mentioned something about a black truck driving by Lizzie’s recently…”

  He nodded. “Yep, she confirmed his truck with a picture the FBI showed her—right before she mysteriously escaped her jail cell.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah…" He scratched his head. "That’s kind of an interesting story, actually… thirty minutes after she was interviewed, an officer found the guard passed out on the floor, with the letter K cut into his forehead. And her jail cell was empty—with the door closed and locked.”

  “Did you say K?”

  He nodded.

  “Krestel.”

  “Yep, that’s the rumor.”

  “Wait, so you’re saying that Marden Balik was—is—Krestel? The rumored witch of the Great Shadow Mountains?”

  “That’s what the whole town is saying. Regardless, whoever the hell she is, the police are combing the area.”

  “Witch or no witch, she’ll hide in the mountains.”

  “They’ll find her.”

  “Good luck to them.” She shook her head, and then continued, “What about John Blevins? Suzie swears he was having an affair with Lizzie. She said she saw Lizzie’s car at his clinic late at night, multiple times.”

  “Lizzie was there to see Edward, not John. John is as clean as a whistle. We checked the security cameras and it was Edward’s truck that was parked in the back, and hers was in the front. I guess Suzie just assumed her husband was there. Edward would also meet Tanya late at night there too, occasionally.”

  Dixie shook her head. “So that’s why Tanya was so jumpy when I interviewed her… she probably thought I knew about her and Edward’s secret affair. And, that’s why she didn’t like Lizzie… she probably suspected something was going on with them, too.”

  The room fell silent as Dixie tried to digest the disturbing information.

  Liam walked to her bedside, grabbed, and squeezed her hand. “Look, Dixie, you don’t have to talk if you’re not ready. Trust me, they’ll wait as long as you need.”