“You need to do as Mitchell suggested. Keep it together,” Ian insisted. “Look, I love her, too. You have no idea how scared I am. But right now, love isn’t going to do us squat. Neither are our fears. Right now, we need to be investigators first, a lover and father second.”
John wondered when he’d become such a self-centered bastard. Ian suffered, too. Roy as well. Hell, every man here knew Celeste. They were all worried, because they’d all seen what had happened to Winston and Malvern’s victims.
“You’re right, and I’m sorry. You’ve just finally met her and now...” He shook his head, unwilling to allow himself to think the worst. He was a good investigator. They’d search. They’d hunt. They’d find her. They had to.
“Let’s consider what we do know,” Ian suggested.
“Right.” He began running the facts through his mind. “Malvern likely took her car, because he left his pickup truck and cruiser behind. Will said her car was gone by the time he’d left for the diner. Roy has already issued a BOLO for her vehicle. I’ve looked at the map of this county. There’s lots of country roads winding all through the area.”
“Too many,” Deputy Ed Young added as he and Roy joined them. “And who’s to say he doesn’t have another car ready and waiting. He ditches Celeste’s and we’re left chasing our tails.”
The sheriff nodded, but added nothing more. Instead, he turned and hung his head.
Roy had known Celeste since she’d been an infant. According to what Ian had told him last night, the sheriff had been placed in Wissota Falls to look out for her, to protect her, and yes, to keep Ian updated on her life. Still, Roy’s love for Celeste had been obvious.
“Roy,” John said. “We need your help on this. Don’t shut down now.”
“It’s my fault. If I hadn’t involved Celeste and...Dan was one of my deputies.”
“I told you to use her on the investigation,” Ian reminded him. “As for Malvern, if Rachel wasn’t able to crack his background until it bled the truth, then we’re dealing with a very smart individual. But even the smart ones make mistakes. We need to find his, and hope it will lead us to Celeste.”
“Winston knows,” Roy said. “That self-proclaimed born-again knows.”
John thought the same thing. “We’ve used every threat against him and he still hasn’t turned his brother over to us.”
“Don’t matter. We’ll make him talk.” Roy turned to John, his eyes wild with anger and bloodlust. “He’s in a hospital. They can bandage his sorry ass when we’re done with him.”
“That’s not the way to handle the situation,” John snapped. “I want to talk with him, but let’s take a look around here before we do. See if we can find anything we might be able to use as leverage.”
“Leverage? We’re wasting time bullshitting. We need to act. You know as well as I do that Winston’s hiding something,” Roy insisted.
“We are acting,” John said, even if he still agreed with the sheriff. “We have state troopers on the road. That’s the best we can do for now. Malvern already has over an hour on us. I’m not going to argue with you about this and waste more time. We comb the house, then we talk to Winston. It’s the logical—”
“I’m tired of your Mr. Spock logical bullshit,” the sheriff growled.
Ian grabbed Roy’s arm. “Let’s walk this off. John, start the search.”
While he understood Roy’s frustration, just as Ian had said to him, the sheriff needed to keep his emotions out of the investigation.
They needed to be smarter than Malvern. Or else Celeste would end up like the others. Dead.
*
Dr. Alex Trumane parked his car outside the airstrip located on the outskirts of Jackson. Duffle bag in hand, he slammed the door shut and headed for the chartered plane that would take him straight to Eau Claire, where a deputy would be waiting for him.
He couldn’t wait to see Miranda Malvern for himself. Talking to the county sheriff wasn’t something he looked forward to, but was necessary to close this chapter of his life. How it would end, he didn’t know. At this point he didn’t care. As much as he wanted to move on, spend the rest of his days working his practice and loving Kira, what he was doing now would be a defining moment in his life.
Thoughts of Kira had him realizing he’d most definitely not make their date for tomorrow night. How he wished he could have pretended he’d never met Miranda Malvern, or Winston, or that monster. But he had, and he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t do the right thing. Even if it meant losing Kira.
As he climbed on board the small plane, he withdrew his cell phone. He knew Kira was working, and was thankful his call would roll into voicemail. She was inquisitive, and while he loved that side of her, he wasn’t sure he could honestly answer any questions she might ask.
After leaving a brief voice mail, he stowed his duffle bag, then buckled his seat belt.
“With the wind behind us, and clear weather, we should land in about two hours,” the captain said with a smile before he ducked into the cockpit.
Two hours. He leaned into the seat and stared out the window.
Two hours would give him too much time to think. About the past, the present and the future.
*
Breathing hard, Dan dropped Celeste’s limp body onto the old cot in the corner of the abandoned, decrepit hunting lodge he’d stumbled on a few years ago. After working a kink in his back, he grabbed a water bottle and drank half of it down in a few swallows. Although she didn’t weigh much, hefting Celeste a few miles through the dense woods surrounding Chippewa Lake had been exhausting. He’d needed to bring her here, though. The cabin offered the privacy he’d need to fulfill his fantasy, plus it contained everything he’d need for his escape.
After he drained the rest of the water, he glanced at his watch. He’d given Celeste a hefty dose of chloroform back at his house, enough to knock her out for a few hours. Once he’d ditched her car at the mouth of the forest and camouflaged it with a tarp, he’d injected enough morphine to ensure she’d sleep the afternoon away. Worried he’d been wrong on the dosage, he decided he’d make sure she was restrained before he finished preparing for his escape.
Using his state-issue handcuffs, he cuffed Celeste’s hands, then linked the chain through a hook he’d screwed into the wood above the cot. He then duct taped her ankles to the metal base of the cot. Once satisfied she’d be incapacitated should she wake while he was busy outside the cabin, he couldn’t resist running his hands over her breasts.
So pretty.
He moved his hand lower, tempted to undo her jeans and finger her pussy. Just before he made contact with the enticing zipper, he shoved away from her.
Heart racing with excitement, he rushed from the cabin, dragging in deep breaths. Man, he wanted her bad. But he refused to take her while she was half-comatose. He thought back to how she’d reacted to him just before he’d knocked her out. The press of her body when she’d fought him, the total power and control he had over her. Just thinking about it had him hot and aroused.
Even if she was awake and fighting him, and he didn’t have to finish preparing for his escape tonight, he would have still stayed away from her for at least a few hours. Primed, dick hard, he worried he’d climax too soon.
Ugly Evie crossed his mind. That little bitch had gone and died on him before he’d even had a chance to touch her. There was no way in hell he’d mess up what he had with Celeste.
He went to the side of the cabin and unbuckled his pants, then did the next best thing. Moments later, with images of what he’d do to Celeste racing through his head, he released himself with a harsh groan. Panting, he wiped his hand clean.
After righting his pants, he peered through the small cabin window. Celeste lay on the bed as he’d left her, ready for him and all the depraved things he would do to that hot body.
He pushed away from the cabin. Work before play. And he would play with her.
First, he had to make sure he had ever
ything packed and ready to go. After he killed Celeste, he’d walk the Kawasaki he’d stolen a few years ago to the highway, then ride off into the night with over a dozen ID’s, passports and credit cards. Plenty of cash, too.
He checked his watch again. By now, they probably knew about him and would be looking for Celeste’s car. Idiots would likely think he’d driven her over the state line. If only they knew he was right under their noses. Waiting.
If only they knew the horror that awaited Celeste.
*
John stood outside Winston’s hospital room, anxious to enter, but forced to wait. He shifted the leverage they’d discovered in Malvern’s workshop, then popped an antacid in his mouth. “How much longer?” he asked Roy, and looked at his watch. At this point, Celeste had been missing for almost five hours.
Five hours. She could be...
Ian shoved off the wall. “I’m going to take a wild guess.”
John turned his head as Lloyd approached with the man they’d been waiting for.
Dr. Alex Trumane.
Mid-forties, the doctor had curly, sandy blond hair, and an athletic build. Wearing a golf shirt and khakis, he looked ready to play eighteen holes instead of coming face-to-face with a serial killer.
“Dr. Trumane,” Roy extended his hand.
“Please call me Alex. How is Miranda?”
“She’s in ICU. When we’re done here, you can go talk with her doctor. She’ll be able to give you Miranda’s prognosis.”
Although Alex appeared disappointed, he nodded, then looked at the door to Winston’s room. “Does he know I’m here?”
“No,” Roy said, then introduced Alex to him and Ian. After a couple of quick handshakes, the sheriff latched onto the door knob, then nodded to the box, the leverage John carried. “Let’s hope this works.”
Without knocking, they barged into the room.
Winston looked up from the bible he’d been reading. His silver eyes moved from one man to the other, then settled on Alex.
“I knew we should have killed you.” Winston slammed the bible closed. Dropping it next to him, on top of a bunch of used tissues, he leaned against the pillows with a heavy sigh. “Now that I’ve found God, I’m glad we didn’t. Besides, the fact that you’re here leads me to believe that killing you would have been too quick of a punishment. I’m betting you lie awake during the night thinking about what you could have done different, huh?”
“Trust me, there’ve been times that I wished you and Malvern had killed me,” Alex said as he moved into the room. He shrugged when all eyes shifted to him. “I was at the bottom of the barrel when I met Garrett, he knew it, used it, then he and Malvern blackmailed me.”
Winston chuckled. “So you found out who my brother is? Pretty big shock, eh Sheriff? Yeah, Toby’s good at blackmailing. How do you think he ended up a deputy?”
“What do you mean?” Roy asked, and clenched his jaw.
“Check on that Tennessee sheriff that vouched for him.” Winston’s chin began to tremble as his smile faded. “You’ll find that he’s…dead.”
Roy sucked in a breath and turned away.
“Consider yourself lucky,” Winston said to Alex. “You’re the only one he’s never killed after a blackmail.” He made the sign of the cross. “I told him to take you out, even offered to do it myself, but Toby thought he might need you in the future. If he didn’t, he’d figured you’d either OD on drugs or you were too drunk to remember what you’d done anyway.”
“I remember every fucking moment,” Alex said, his voice rising. “That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m sober.”
“Five years later?” Winston shot back, tears streaming down his face. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put Miranda through?”
“Garrett,” John began. “Dan...Toby has kidnapped a woman. We need to know—”
“I told you to watch out for her.” He reached for a fresh tissue. “He took the psychic, right?”
John nodded. “We need you to help us.”
“I’ll help you once the good doctor atones for his sins.” He blew his nose. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Roy yelled. “Listen up, you piece of—”
“Stop,” Alex shouted. “I’ll atone. I was drunk, just had a fight with my wife when I went to some honky-tonk outside of Jackson. I was looking for more booze, coke, and a woman. I met Garrett, and he gave me what I’d needed. Only he and Malvern set me up. Took pictures of what I’d been doing. I didn’t know until Malvern showed up at my practice telling me to purposefully diagnose his fiancé with some terminal disease.”
Alex paced the room, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pressed khakis. “He had pictures, and I still had abuse issues. I gave him what he wanted and have regretted it ever since.”
John shook his head in disbelief. Not that the good doctor had admitted to purposefully misdiagnosing Miranda Malvern, but that they were wasting precious time. “Garrett, he atoned, damn it. We need to know—”
“She stayed with him,” Winston wailed, clutching a tissue to his nose. “Because he told her he loved her no matter what was wrong with her. And the whole time he’d been poisoning her, lying to her, using her for the inheritance he knew she’d get when Granny Gates died. He killed the old bag, too, especially when he found out she’d left a house and property in this bum-fucked part of the planet to her granddaughter. I blame you for all of this.”
The room fell silent, until Winston blew his nose again.
Tired of the bullshit, John opened the box, then dumped dozens of snapshots—each one encased in plastic baggies—on top of Winston. “Can you blame him for this?”
Winston stared down at the pictures of him performing despicable acts to the women he’d likely killed alongside his brother. His mouth gaped open as he quickly sorted his hand through the plastic bags, then tears began spilling.
“He...he...Oh my God,” he cried, and reached for another tissue.
“You’ve been more than a liability.” John pulled a picture of Winston raping a woman from the pile of many and shoved it into his face. “You were his fall guy. He set you up, just like him.” John pointed to Alex. “Are you going to lie there and do nothing to stop him?”
Winston averted his eyes from the photograph. The crybaby killer, once again, lived up to his name, sobbing and blubbering to the point John worried Winston had been pushed too far.
“That bastard. That lying bastard,” Winston repeated, this time with anger, with rage, and crossed himself again hard enough he left a red mark on his forehead.
Excitement boiled through John. He wanted Winston angry. He wanted his hatred for Malvern. “He’ll get the death penalty for what he’s done. If you help us, I’ll do my best to make sure you’re not extradited and serve your sentence here, in Wisconsin.” Whether Winston was extradited or not would be up to the district attorney, but he’d make all sorts of promises and tell a million lies if it would help them find Celeste.
“What about the good doc over there?” Winston asked as he jerked his head toward Alex.
“What about me?”
“For what he did to Miranda, you should fry his ass, too.”
“You knew what Malvern had been doing to her all along. Why didn’t you stop him?” Alex asked. “You’re as much to blame.”
Worried the arguing between the doctor and the crybaby killer might cause Winston to derail and clam up, John said, “Dr. Trumane is in our custody, and will be dealt with for his crimes against Miranda Malvern.”
John sent Alex a look, hoping the man realized he’d been bluffing. Then he turned to Lloyd. “Cuff him, and take him out in the hallway.”
While Lloyd placed Alex in handcuffs, Winston stared at the doctor with a smug smile. After Lloyd led him into the hall, then shut the door, Winston turned his attention back to them.
“What do you want to know?”
“Where would Malvern run?”
“You got a map on ya?”
Roy pulled a coun
ty map from his back pocket, then spread it out and handed it to Winston. “The red dot indicates Malvern’s house,” the sheriff said.
“Okay.” Winston ran his finger over the road leading from the Malvern residence. He zigged, then zagged over other roads, then stopped and tapped. “Here.”
John and Roy stood on either side of the bed and stared at the map. “What are we looking at?” John asked. The road Winston had pointed to dead ended into nothing but forest, and lots of it.
“Toby found an abandoned hunting cabin a few years back. Since then, he’s been storing stuff there, just in case the heat came down on us.”
“Can you point out where this cabin is?” John asked, anxious to begin searching for Celeste. They’d already blown through another half hour with Winston. By the time they reached the area Winston indicated, another hour would be wasted.
“Not exactly. I’ve only been there once. But…” Winston ran his finger across the large section of forest, then pointed to the highway that ran parallel to the county road. “The plan had always been that if Toby had to hide out in his cabin, I was supposed to pick him up at mile marker one sixty two. I’m not sure how far the highway is from the cabin, but I’m thinking no more than a half mile.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Toby said he’d timed himself once, and he’d made it from the cabin to the highway in under ten minutes. That was with carrying a load on his back and dealing with running through the woods.”
While it wasn’t exactly a street address, it was better than what they’d had before now. John nodded, then looked to Roy and Ian. “Let’s go.”
As Roy took the map, Winston said, “How long has he had her?”
“Almost six hours,” the sheriff answered with disgust.
Winston shook his head and released a low whistle. “Don’t bother with an ambulance.” He picked up his bible. “If Toby’s had her that long, you’ll need a body bag.”
Chapter 29
Celeste woke slowly, her head swimming. She shut her eyes and fought the nausea. Wanting to curl onto her side, she turned her head to cradle her stomach, then panicked when her numb arms didn’t respond.
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