The First Victim

by JB Lynn

  She tore open the door to Laurie’s room, switched on the light. She choked back a sob when all she could see was the empty bed, covers mussed as though they’d been slept under, a single red rose laid across the pillow.

  Bailey hurried up behind her. “We’ve got to tell Morgan and Black.”

  He’d already turned in the direction of the guest rooms when she caught his hand. “I need you to take me to see my father,” she said. Her voice sounded strangely stilted. “The note with the…with the picture said to ‘say hi to Daddy.’ Maybe he knows who’s got Laurie. Maybe he can tell me.”

  “Be serious, Em. He’s got a tube sticking down his throat. We’ve got to tell the FBI.”

  “He said no FBI. Let me talk to him. Then you can bring them in, but if you tell them now… I’m begging you, Bailey. Let me do this.”

  Bailey spiked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Em—”

  She could see that he was torn between doing what she wanted and his professional responsibility. She knew without a doubt that if the victim had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have wavered in his duty, but because it involved her, he was second-guessing himself. She pushed her advantage. “Please, Bay. If I mean anything to you, anything at all.”

  “I already told you that you’re everything to me, Em.” He grabbed her hand. “C’mon. My car’s outside.” Together they ran to his car, their footsteps echoing in the dark stillness, not nearly as loud as her heart pounding in her ears. He waited until they were out of view of The Garden Gate before turning on the lights and siren, and setting a land-speed record to the hospital.

  “This is a bad idea. A really bad idea.” That Bailey was regretting his choice was obvious. “It’s like that time you convinced me to jump out of the oak tree. I knew it was a bad idea. I knew it, but no, I let you talk me into it.”

  Shoulder blades aching with tension, Emily sat silent in her seat rubbing her palm, dimly aware of his nervous chatter. She was too busy worrying about her sister. Imagining what the monster might do to her. What he could be doing to her at this very moment. The metallic taste of fear lingered on her tongue as she forced herself to take slow, steadying breaths. She had to keep it together. It was the only way she could save Laurie.

  “You said I’d be fine, but I ended up with a broken leg.” He swung the car into the entrance of the hospital parking lot, screeching to a halt in the fire zone.

  Taking Laurie Wright from The Garden Gate had been the tricky part. It had required careful planning, stealth, perfect timing and patience.

  He’d used the fire escape to climb up to the room she was staying in. He’d hidden in the closet, but not before rifling through her overnight bag, and stealing a pair of her flowery pink underwear. Waiting for her in the small dark space that smelled of cedar, he tied the pretty panties around his dick, which was already semi-hard with anticipation.

  She’d never even suspected he was there, watching her. He’d gazed at her from just feet away as she’d washed her face and brushed her teeth. Hoping for a bit of a peep show, a chance to see that sweet, young body of hers, he’d been disappointed when she hadn’t changed into sleepwear before flopping onto the bed fully clothed.

  Swallowing his disappointment, he’d consoled himself with the knowledge her naked flesh would soon be his to play with.

  He didn’t have to wait long before Laurie was softly snoring. He crept over to the bed, and pressed the chloroform-soaked rag to her face. Laurie’s eyes snapped open, and for a long moment she struggled, kicking and flailing like a wild beast. He knew, in that instant she looked up at him that she knew who he was.

  It didn’t matter that she recognized him. She’d die before she could tell anyone.

  The tricky part was getting out of The Garden Gate undetected, but like everything else he did, his plan was pure perfection. Using the pulley system he’d designed just for this purpose, he’d lowered her from the window to the ground without attracting the attention of anyone in the B&B. He was brilliant.

  So much for the hotshot FBI agents. He’d just stolen his next victim from right under their noses.

  He stroked the silky hair of the still knocked-out Laurie as she lay in the van. Needing to taste her, he picked up her limp hand, sucking her thumb into his mouth. Mmmm, just as he’d guessed, cherry!

  He pulled a cherry lollipop from his pocket and unwrapped it.

  He’d have loved to play with her, but there was no time for that. He had to be satisfied with twirling the candy on his tongue. It was time for the next part of the game.

  He wished he could have seen Emily’s face when he’d sent her the text message. He’d have loved to witness her reaction when the picture of her baby sister appeared on her phone.

  This was his game, and he was in control.

  As they jumped out of the car outside the hospital, Bailey spotted a familiar figure walking across the darkened lot with another man. “Williams! Hey, Williams, is that you?”

  “Bailey, come on,” Emily urged, eager to see her father and get the answers she so desperately needed.

  “Just a sec.”

  The dispatcher hesitated for a second before turning toward them. He waved.

  “I might need your help,” Bailey called out. “Can you stick around?”

  “Sure. I was just here to see my girl.”

  “Okay. Meet us inside.”

  Grabbing Emily’s hand, Bailey led her into the hospital. Hand in hand they raced down the eerily empty hallway toward her father’s room, skidding to a stop outside his door.

  “I need to do this alone,” Emily said. She didn’t even know what “this” was, but she knew that it was between her and her father. With Laurie’s life hanging in the balance, it was time for the showdown they’d never had.

  Thankfully, Bailey didn’t argue. “Okay. I’ll keep the nurses away.”

  “Thank you.” Impulsively, she rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

  “I’ll be waiting right here,” he promised.

  Squaring her shoulders, she entered the room, prepared to do battle.

  After stepping through the door, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkened room. Blinking rapidly she realized that all of the monitors cast a ghoulish glow over this place that smelled like death. She could see the shadowy figure of Donald Wright, in a full body cast, just as Laurie had described, in the bed. A chill spread between her shoulder blades as she stared at him.

  It had been a long time since she’d been alone with her father, but she’d always been alone in his presence. She’d always hoped that if she were to see him again, she’d manage to find it in her heart to pity the man who’d always been more concerned with how things looked over how things really were.

  Standing here, watching him now, all she felt was anger. Old resentments that she’d spent half her life containing to a simmer were boiling in her heart, but most of all she hated him because she knew that he knew who had Laurie.

  As though he sensed her arrival, he stirred, opening his one eye that wasn’t covered with a bandage. Startled, it took him a moment to focus on who loomed at the foot of his bed.

  She walked around the bed, examining his monitors, focusing on the EKG that seemed to indicate that this shell of a father actually had a heart in working condition. What did machines know?

  Rubbing the scar that stretched across her palm, she bent close and whispered, “He’s got her. He’s got Laurie.”

  His heartbeat increased.

  “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  He closed his good eye, thinking he could shut her out. The desperate need to save her sister that swept through her obliterated any residual pity she might have had for him as he lay there.

  She knocked on the cast covering his shoulder three times. The sickly hollow sound echoed in the room.

  His eye popped open. He focused on her for only a moment before looking away.

  “Don’t you dare try to ignore me.” Even as
she whispered, her voice shook with emotion. She didn’t dare to raise her voice. That would bring Bailey running, and she couldn’t afford his interference. She knew what she had to do. “I know that you know who has her. He sent me a text message telling me so. You’re going to tell me who it is. Laurie is not going to die because of you. Do you hear me? She is not going to die.”

  His heart monitor started to beep erratically.

  “Tell me who has her.” Fingers flying, she ripped away the tape holding his ventilator tube in place. “You will not let her die. You hear me? She is not going to suffer any more because of you!” Without hesitation she grabbed the ventilation tube, and yanked it as hard as she could.

  Her stomach turned over at the slurping noise it made as she pulled it from his throat. He gagged, a dry, wheezing, painful sound, and she almost vomited.

  This was no time to be weak. Fighting her nausea, she screamed at him in a whisper, “Tell me who has her! Who has Laurie?”

  He pursed his lips into an o. His pulse was pounding harder than hers.

  Grabbing him by the shoulders, she shook him. “Who?”

  Barely audible over the cacophony of the medical monitors, he gasped, “O’Neil.” His eye rolled shut as he passed out.

  Alerted by the nurses that there was a problem in Doctor Wright’s room, Doctor Wyatt burst into the room in time to see Emily shake her father one more time.

  “Tell the nurses I don’t need them,” the doctor snapped at whoever had followed her into the room. “Keep them out of here.”

  Footsteps left the room.

  Doctor Wyatt pushed Emily out of the way and reinserted the tube in the patient’s throat, simply saying, “I hope you got what you needed.”

  Emily nodded mutely. She’d gotten the answer. O’Neil.

  For a split second she’d thought he’d meant Bailey, that the boy she had called her best friend as a child had matured into a monster. She’d just as quickly dismissed the thought.

  There was no way the man lurking outside this room, the man she liked and trusted, the man she’d slept with, the man she was in love with, was holding her sister hostage.

  Who then? Not Freddy. He was dead.

  While the doctor ministered to Donald Wright, Emily paced nervously back and forth across the length of the room.

  Then she remembered Bailey’s shrewish grandmother at the funeral hurling invectives at Freddy’s coffin, …kept my baby boy from me all these years…

  Freddy O’Neil’s brother. Bailey’s uncle. That’s who had Laurie.

  She forced herself to take some deep breaths. Calm, cool and collected. Calm, cool and collected.

  Why would he want her to know his identity? Didn’t he think she’d tell the FBI? How could a man who’d eluded capture all these years benefit from a manhunt? It didn’t make any sense. Unless…

  Unless…maybe it was one last power trip. He was taunting her, telling her who he was. What good was the knowledge if she couldn’t use it to save Laurie? Maybe he was using the opportunity to take a swipe at the FBI too. Maybe he wanted them to know who he was, because he already had an escape plan in place.

  Regardless, her sister’s life hung in the balance.

  Emily ran back out into the hall to find Bailey. He’d been right. They had to tell the FBI what was going on, especially now that she knew who had Laurie.

  But he wasn’t there. So much for her grand plan.

  “Ms. Wright?”

  She turned in the direction of the man calling her name.

  Williams smiled at her. “Deputy O’Neil had an emergency. He apologized, and asked me to look after you.”

  Her stomach flip-flopped and a chill spread between her shoulder blades. “What kind of emergency?”

  “Something about his sister. A nurse came running down telling him he had to come quick.”

  Weakly she leaned back against the wall. She couldn’t ask Bailey to leave his sister’s side to save Laurie.

  “Are you alright?” Williams stepped closer, his concern evident. “Can I get you anything? Can I take you anywhere?”

  “Yes!” She pushed herself up off the wall. “I need to get back to The Garden Gate immediately.”

  “Okay, I can do that. My car’s right outside.”

  They practically jogged out to the parking lot.

  Emily’s mind was racing. She had to tell Chase Morgan what she’d found out. Maybe there was time to save Laurie.

  They piled into Williams’ car and he peeled out of the parking lot.

  “Thank you so much…I’m sorry, I don’t know your first name.”

  “It’s Billy.” He pulled a wrapped lollipop from his pocket and offered it to her.

  She shook her head. “No, thank you, Billy.” She thought about it for a second and then asked, “So is your name Billy Williams or William Williams?”

  “Neither.” He glanced over at her as he pulled to a stop at a stop sign. “It’s William O’Neil.”

  The bottom dropped out of Emily’s stomach. “Y-your last name is O-O’Neil?”

  Chapter 26

  Swiveling his head toward her, Williams, or William, or Billy, or whatever the hell his name was, smiled at her before returning his attention to the road. It wasn’t really a smile, more like a predatory leer.

  Her heartbeat sped up, adrenaline flooding her system. She had to get away, out of this car. A quick glance in the side mirror revealed a white panel van was following them. A surge of hope shot through her. She’d flag the driver down. She’d be rescued.

  She reached for the door handle. They weren’t moving too fast. She could fling herself out of the vehicle. She fumbled for the latch.

  “If you do that, you’ll never see your sister again.”

  Emily froze, fear and hope mingling in her blood.

  “That’s a good girl.” Billy glanced in the rearview mirror and gave a thumbs-up to the driver behind them.

  Her heart sank.

  Both vehicles turned off into the driveway of a house that had been deserted for the season.

  “If you try anything, anything at all, your sister is dead. You stay right here. Don’t move.”

  Billy got out of the car. Sitting frozen in her seat, her mind racing, Emily watched him confer with the driver of the van. They appeared to be arguing.

  She surreptitiously pulled her cell phone from her pocket. If she could just call for help… Turning it on, she glanced up at the two men, making sure they couldn’t see what she was doing.

  Her hands shook as she scrolled through her list of phone numbers. She hadn’t programmed Bailey’s number, but Castle, Mark was at the top of the list. She pushed the call button as her phone flashed the low battery warning.

  “Not again,” she muttered. “Please last. Please l—” The phone went dark. It was dead.

  “Shit!”

  She couldn’t afford to panic. Too much was at stake. She had to keep it together. She wasn’t about to be a victim again. She was a survivor.

  She couldn’t do anything until she saw Laurie. Then she’d figure out a way to escape. She’d done it before. She’d do it again. Both of them would get away.

  Besides Bailey would be looking for her. He’d figure it out. He had to.

  All she had to do was keep her and Laurie alive until he did. Calm, cool and collected. Calm, cool and collected. The mantra didn’t do much to quiet her mind, but it did help her to get her breathing under control. Her heartbeat slowed to a gallop. She rubbed her palm which ached as though it had just been sliced open.

  Billy ripped her car door open. “Get out!”

  Slowly, she climbed from the seat, her legs so rubbery she wasn’t certain they could support her.

  “In the van.”

  Obediently she moved toward the vehicle parked behind the car.

  Billy flung open the rear doors. The overhead light revealed Laurie and Anna lying motionless on the floor. Emily gasped. They were so still she wondered if they were alive.

&nbs
p; “Inside!” Grabbing her upper arm, squeezing with bruising force, he propelled her up and into the van. She landed in a heap, her limbs tangling with those of the girls. Both bodies were warm, so Emily didn’t think they were dead, just drugged.

  Laughing his satisfaction, he slammed the doors shut, plunging them into darkness.

  A moment later he climbed into the front passenger seat. “Talk about making lemonade, huh, Pop?”

  If Williams was Billy O’Neil, Bailey’s cousin, this must be Oliver, his uncle.

  The unseen driver chuckled. The sound made her hair stand on end. She tried to ease her body off the girls, but the van lurched into motion, sending her sprawling.

  “What do you want to do with them, Billy?”

  Emily knew that voice. It was the voice that haunted her dreams. It was him. All the fear she’d kept bottled up for fifteen years flooded through her. The memories of everything he’d done to her, every vile thing he’d said to her, pelted her mercilessly.

  She wasn’t even aware she’d screamed her panic until the driver laughed at her. “Welcome home, Emily.”

  Sheer terror sapped all of her energy, and she collapsed on top of the teenagers. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she swallowed them. She had to be strong now, for Laurie. She had to figure out a way to survive this new nightmare.

  Bailey O’Neil burst into Donald Wright’s hospital room, startling the female doctor bending over Donald Wright. The woman stared at him with wide-eyed apprehension.

  “Where’s Emily Wright?” he asked.

  “She left a few moments ago.”

  “Did she say where she was going?”

  The woman shook her head.

  He returned to the hallway, searching it wildly. It was empty. Where the hell was that damn fool Williams? He’d told the dispatcher to wait outside Donald Wright’s room. He’d ordered him to keep Emily here, and now they were both gone.

  Guilt churned in his gut. He should have never left her, but at the time he’d thought he didn’t have a choice. As soon as Emily had slipped into her father’s room, Williams had come racing down the hall, panicked.