The Scum of All Fears: Squeaky Clean Mysteries, Book 5

by Christy Barritt

  We crept closer to the structure. I ignored the sounds of nature around me, from the incessant ribbit of frogs, to the solemn whisper of crickets, and the shrill hum of locust.

  “What’s our plan?” I whispered. I grabbed his hand.

  Just then, I heard a cry in the distance. Fire raced through my blood as I imagined what might be happening.

  This was the right place. I was convinced of it.

  We stayed low as we approached. My palms were sweaty. My heart pounded in my ears. My breathing came too quickly.

  The cabin appeared to be one story, rundown with dirty white plank siding, and had window screens that were either busted or gone. I’d guess the place to be maybe 600 square feet and several decades old. It obviously hadn’t been maintained throughout the years.

  Just beyond the backside of the place, I spotted a car.

  A white sedan.

  That cry we’d heard hadn’t been because of a mouse this time. That had been a scream of pure terror at the hands of a killer.

  We stayed along the edges of the forest, waiting until we reached the back of the house before running toward the exterior of the building. We pressed ourselves there. My heart nearly pounded out of my chest. Slowly, I straightened, peeking carefully into the window.

  Jones. Milton Jones.

  I ducked back down as he turned, and I nodded at Riley. We’d found our killer. Now, we just had to figure out what to do next.

  CHAPTER 35

  I peeked in the window again. Milton Jones was pacing the floor with something that looked like a whip in his hands. Rose sat bound in the corner. I took a good look at her. Blood trickled from her forehead, her eye was black, and her clothes torn.

  I quickly noted the rickety chair where she was tied. Outdated furniture was scattered throughout the room. Fish hung like trophies on the wall.

  Jones muttered something and then snapped the whip in the air.

  Come on, Adams! Parker! Where are you?

  Rose was gagged. So who had screamed? Where were the rest of the women? Where was Dale?

  Riley moved down toward the other side of the house. As much as I didn’t want to take my eyes off Rose, I followed him. We had to locate the rest of the women. Maybe while Jones was distracted by Rose, we could free everyone else.

  We peered in each of the windows, but I saw no one.

  Where was Jones keeping the other women? Where had that cry come from?

  I turned and surveyed the area around me. Was there another cabin? A boathouse? Anywhere else these women could be?

  I saw nothing.

  “What now?” I whispered to Riley.

  “We can’t be hasty. The police should be here any minute.”

  “That’s if they can find it. This road isn’t on any map.”

  “Let’s keep our eyes on Jones. If he starts to hurt someone, we act. Otherwise, we lay low and keep watch.”

  I nodded. I knew that was a better plan than mine. My plan was to burst through the front door, save Rose, and possibly get myself killed. We’d be no good to these women if we were dead.

  The front door opened with a loud squeal. Shivers crept over my skin as heavy footsteps plodded across the splintered floorboards of the porch. Someone muttered. A man muttered.

  Jones must have stepped out for a minute. Riley put a finger over his lips, motioning for me to be quiet. We remained pressed into the side of the house, daring not to move.

  We listened as he stomped down the steps. Everything was silent for a moment. Was he coming our way?

  My skin felt alive with tension and adrenaline and fear.

  My back muscles pinched with anxiety.

  Riley motioned for me to stay put, and then he slipped around the far corner, the opposite direction of the front door.

  I had a bad feeling about this. About all of this.

  Riley returned and leaned toward me. “He’s standing near the woods smoking a cigarette.”

  Could we rescue the women before Jones returned? Even if we did, we had no way to get them out of here. We’d all be sitting ducks as soon as Jones spotted us.

  Psycho Scum stomped back up on the porch. The door opened and then slammed.

  I remembered my gun in my waistband. I could use it, if I had to. I could take down Jones and keep him tied up until the police got here.

  That sounded like a plan. A back up plan, at least.

  Slowly, carefully, I peered inside again. I saw Jones walk through the living room, past Rose, and disappear somewhere.

  Another scream pierced the nighttime air. Yelling followed. Something crashed.

  Riley stepped closer. “We need to distract Jones.”

  “How?”

  “We split up. Go in the woods. I’ll make noises. Do something to slow him up. Make him look for me. Meanwhile, you’ll be somewhere else. Somewhere safe.”

  “A place where I can runaway and get help if you need me.” I knew that’s what he was thinking, but I didn’t like this idea. “The plan could backfire. Jones could hear the noise and decide to accelerate the process.”

  Riley shook his head. “Jones takes too much joy in killing. He won’t do that.”

  “But—”

  His eyes pleaded with me. “Please. This whole thing with Jones started because of me. He wants me. Let me be the one to help now.”

  I squeezed his arm. “Don’t go.” Is this how Riley felt whenever I had a hare-brained scheme?

  “I’ll be safe. I love you, Gabby.”

  My chest felt like it had a boulder on it. “I love you, Riley.”

  With that, we split and went different directions toward the woods.

  I pulled out my cell phone. It was only then I realized how badly my hands were shaking. I could barely dial Adams’ number. Finally, he answered. The connection wasn’t strong, though.

  “This is Gabby. We found Jones. You’ve got to get here.” I whispered. I kept my head up, on guard for any sudden sounds or movements.

  “We’re on our way. We’re having trouble locating the street.”

  I gave him quick directions. So much for police equipment being more sophisticated than ours. “We should be there any time, Gabby.”

  Across the woods, Riley yelled. A purposeful yell. One meant to draw out Jones.

  Someone moved in front of the window and peered out.

  Riley had distracted Jones. But what would happen next?

  Jones disappeared. A moment later, he stepped outside, dragging someone with him. Clarice? Was that Clarice? “Is someone there?”

  He looked around. Walked off the porch. Pulled Clarice behind him. Walked toward Riley.

  I watched as he drug Clarice across the patchy grass. She was crying. Whimpering really. She looked like she’d lost weight, and she didn’t have much to lose to begin with.

  I missed the Clarice who wore designer clothes, had her nails done, and her hair perfect.

  This Clarice looked like a rag doll.

  My heart froze. I had to stay where I was. I couldn’t rush in to help. One wrong move and everything could go blow up.

  Still, I looked back at the house. I remembered Rose there, tied up. I wondered if I should help her?

  How much longer would the police be?

  I turned back to Jones, but he was gone. Where had he gone? I’d looked away for a moment and now he’d disappeared.

  I stepped back, water spreading up from the edge of my jeans. A branch snapped behind me. Before I could turn, I heard someone say, “What took you so long?”

  Chills raced up my spine. That voice didn’t belong to Riley.

  I knew without turning around that it belonged to Jones.

  Slowly, I pivoted. Sure enough, Jones stood behind me, a knife in hand and a gleam in his eyes. “I knew you’d come.”

  My breathing was shallow. It was hard to get air to my lungs. I turned my focus from Jones—I knew he wanted my attention, and I didn’t want to give it to him—and looked at Clarice. She let out a cry. “Gab
by, you’re here. I just knew you’d find me.”

  “Clarice, where are the rest of the girls?”

  “He’s got them in the attic.” Her voice quaked and broke as she spoke.

  The attic? In this place? It must be 100 degrees up there. Something about her statement didn’t hit me right. I couldn’t pinpoint what.

  “Where’s Dale?”

  “Dale?” Clarice asked.

  “The cop.”

  “He’s—” She started to answer when Jones pressed the knife into her side.

  “Enough of this little reunion!” A horrid grin stretched across his face. “It’s time for the real fun to begin.”

  “Let her go,” I ordered. I’d wanted my voice to sound strong, tough. Instead, it quivered.

  Clarice’s eyes widened with fear, with hope, with pain.

  Jones nodded toward her. “Her? Let her go? Why would I do that?”

  “Because I’m going to shoot you if you don’t.” I raised my gun.

  His grin widened. “Are you? You’re a feisty little thing. A lot like my sister.”

  “I’m nothing like your sister. I treat people around me with love. I would never do what she did to you.”

  “I saw the way you were with your brother. Making him eat trash. That’s not love.” His voice rumbled now, any mischief gone, replaced with resentment, anger . . . vengeance.

  The gun trembled as I held it in front of me. “I don’t make him eat trash.” Finally, it made sense. That’s why Jones had turned so much rage onto me. Not only was I engaged to Riley, but he thought I was just like his sister. Explaining Tim’s freegan ways would only be an exercise in futility right now.

  “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “I’m telling the truth.” It was even hard for me to believe that. “You need to let Clarice go. The rest of the women, too. The police are on their way.”

  He pressed the knife into Clarice, and she yelped. “You going to shoot me?”

  “Let her go!” My voice rose in pitch as the tension stretched tight.

  “You’re going to have to kill me first. Which will it be? You take a life? Or I take a life?”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Don’t kill him, Gabby,” Riley stepped out of the woods.

  “Riley!” My heart leapt with joy.

  “He wants to make sure you’re just like him. He wants you to know what it’s like to take someone’s life.”

  “He deserves to die,” I mumbled, staring at Jones.

  “Let the justice system decide that. Keep your own hands clean.”

  “But . . .” In my heart, I knew Riley was right. But everything else inside me screamed to shoot. To take the life of this scum-of-the-earth killer.

  For the first time ever, I wanted to shoot to kill.

  I also knew that Jones was taunting me. He wanted me to take his life, to live in guilt for the rest of my days.

  My finger remained poised on the trigger. I wanted to pull it. More than anything, I wanted to squeeze.

  Sweat sprinkled across my forehead. Bugs swarmed around me, buzzing, biting. Swamp water continued to invade my clothes, creeping higher and higher.

  I had to do something.

  I had to pull the trigger.

  Before I could, I saw something move at the side of my vision. Before I could turn, someone stepped out. Rose.

  Rose?

  That’s what hadn’t sat right with me about Clarice’s statement. She’d said all the girls were upstairs. But Rose had been downstairs. As a decoy.

  All along, she’d been the accomplice. Her abduction had just been a part of Jones’ grand scheme to throw us off track.

  Rose sneered before zapping Riley with a Taser. “No one talks like that to a man I’m going to marry,” she muttered.

  I screamed and lunged for him, praying they wouldn’t harm him anymore.

  CHAPTER 36

  The distraction gave Jones just enough time to kick my gun. The weapon flew from my hand and landed with a plop in the swamp. In one swift motion, Jones shoved Clarice to the ground, ordered Rose to take care of her, and grabbed me.

  He held a knife against my neck. “Get his keys!”

  “Whose?” Goosebumps raced across my skin, popping up like warning signs on a washed out road.

  “Your little lover boy’s!”

  I carefully squatted beside Riley. Jones kept the knife at my neck, reminding me that with one wrong move, my life could be over. The blade pricked my skin as I leaned forward.

  All I could think about was Riley, though. My heart squeezed with pain as I looked at him. Riley. My Riley.

  I wanted to comfort him. To touch him. To tell him everything would be okay.

  To tell him I’d give up everything to be with him.

  Clarice’s whimpers in the background only added to the strain of the moment. They reminded me that I might not have my happy ending. They reminded me that life and death were on the line.

  I swallowed, my throat tight. I reached into Riley’s pocket and grabbed his car keys. I mouthed, “I’m sorry,” before Jones pulled me back to my feet.

  “Good girl. Now move!”

  I had no choice but to walk. If I didn’t, I would die. Then I’d be of no use at all.

  “Where’s your car?” His hot breath hit my cheek. I remembered the earthy scent I’d noticed on Jones when he was in my apartment. I smelled the swamp and hadn’t even realized it.

  “Down the lane.”

  “Get going then!”

  I could hardly keep up. The blade pressed into my neck. Its sharp edges cut the top layer of my skin. I could feel blood trickling down onto my shirt.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Away from here before the police show up,” he muttered.

  We reached the car, and Jones pushed me inside through the passenger door. He kept the knife at my side as he shoved me over the center console until I fell into the driver’s seat. Then he slipped inside behind me and slammed the door. Something about being in the car alone with Jones increased my level of panic by about three hundred times.

  “Now, drive!” He leaned beside me, one arm behind me, the other pressing the knife into the flesh at my neck.

  If I hit one pothole, all of this could be over. And out on these roads, I might not even see the pothole coming.

  My whole body was nearly convulsing as I stuck the keys into the ignition. I cranked the engine and then turned to him. “Which way?”

  He sneered. “Just go. I’ll tell you.”

  I put the car into drive and eased my foot off the brake. The car began rolling down the deserted lane.

  “Faster!” he barked.

  I pressed the accelerator, my hands shaking so badly I feared I wouldn’t be able to stay on the road. But I did as he said. We traveled back down the road Riley and I had come in on.

  Inky darkness surrounded us like an army of evil closing in. Only the headlights offered any glimmer of hope. Jones could kill me out here, hide my body, and I’d never be found.

  I thought about Riley. Was he okay? What was Rose doing to him? How were the other women holding up?

  My pulse slowed slightly when we reached the road where the farmer who’d given us directions lived. It was a little more populated, at least, and had scattered streetlights to help illuminate the way. Despite that, everything felt eerily still. At this late hour, there was no other movement out here—not even a police car.

  Where were they?

  Just as I turned down the road, as my hopes of heading back to civilization began to take root, the car puttered. It sputtered. It lurched.

  I knew this car was just going to stop one day. Why now?

  Jones showed me the knife again, as if a reminder that if I didn’t choose wisely, my prize would be a stab wound in a sick version of Wheel of Misfortune. “What’s wrong with this piece of rust?”

  “It’s old,” I muttered.

  “Keep going. Faster.”

  I pressed down
on the accelerator. My heart slammed into my ribcage, each beat jarring my adrenaline into action. I had to start thinking and fast. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Someone has to pay.”

  “Pay for the way your sister treated you?” I kept my hands on the wheel, my knuckles white, and my limbs shaking like a man on a jackhammer.

  “You’re all the same.” His soulless eyes glared at me. I could feel them.

  He wasn’t even trembling, I realized as I felt the heat emanating from his arm. The realization only made the pit in my stomach grow deeper. “We’re not. I love my brother. He really does eat trash. As unbelievable as it sounds, it’s part of his worldview.”

  He snorted and his other hand squeezed the back of my neck. “All women are liars.”

  “What about Rose?”

  “A means to an end. I needed help and she was willing. Desperate for my attention, actually.” He chuckled. “Some people just have no common sense. She should know better than to trust a serial killer.”

  “I know you think all women are liars, but I’m telling the truth.” My voice trembled, making my words lose credibility. “I haven’t lied to you.”

  “Shut up and keep going.”

  I swallowed hard. The road almost seemed like a tunnel in front of me. All I could see was the illumination from my headlights. Out here was desolate. There was farmland. Glimpses of the Elizabeth River. Massive ditches on the sides of the roads. “What’s going to happen to Riley?”

  In the rearview mirror, I saw a smile play across his lips. “He’ll get what he deserves.”

  Just as we turned onto another back road, I spotted the High Rise Bridge ahead. It wasn’t just an every day bridge. No, it was a huge, twin-spanning structure—probably half a mile long—that carried traffic from Interstate 64 across the Elizabeth River.

  The river here was wide and deep. The bridge was majestic and high. If people were allowed to bungee jump from the structure, there would probably be a waiting list every weekend.

  We headed below it, toward a service road that ended with a chain link fence and a flickering light that bathed the area in a sickening shade of yellow. On the other side of the bridge was a factory of some kind and then beyond that a road that led to the Interstate.