Shadow of Perceptoin

by Kristine Mason

  But he knew. Now he needed to tell someone before something terrible happened to Eden.

  He didn’t want to call the police. Not yet.

  “Damn it,” he muttered, and slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He’d completed his death wish list, and had only one last thing to do.

  As he followed the news van, he considered his options. If he called the police, and gave them Eden’s location, they could apprehend the stalker. At least he assumed the person driving the van was the stalker. Considering he’d seen someone lurking around her house one time too many, how could he not? It didn’t matter at this point. What mattered was Eden’s safety. While he needed her to tell the world his story, he also wanted to keep her safe. He hadn’t been able to protect Eliza. Her mother had brainwashed his impressionable daughter, and while he’d tried to stop Eliza from going through procedure after procedure, Eliza hadn’t listened. She was dead, but Eden was still alive. He could be the one to make sure she remained that way.

  Deciding he’d call the police, Michael reached for his cell phone, then hesitated. The phone wasn’t one of his disposables, it was his personal phone. Traceable, the police would know he’d made the call. Eden would learn his identity. She would eventually, but that was to happen when he was ready. He wasn’t ready yet.

  He could stop at a payphone. Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even seen a payphone.

  The boyfriend.

  Yes. He could contact the boyfriend, and he could call the police. Unfortunately, Michael only had Eden’s cell phone number.

  As the news van made another turn, Michael caught a street sign indicating he wasn’t far from St. Mary’s Medical Center. The boyfriend had been at the hospital. If he’d brought Eden to the ER, and she wasn’t lucid due to the dehydration, he would have left his contact information. How long would it take him to look up her medical records? Minutes, once he reached a computer. At that point, though, he could call the police from a hospital phone. Again, the police could trace the call back to him. He knew too many people at the hospital, and today was his day off.

  “Shit,” he muttered, and blew out a deep breath. He wanted to do the right thing. After what he’d done to his patients, he needed something to remind him of the conscientious, decent man he had once been. Still, he refused to deviate from the final part of his plan. He would do the right thing, but without handing himself over to the police.

  The boyfriend was the only option.

  The news van slowed, then turned into an old neighborhood just minutes from the hospital. As a short cut to the freeway, he used to drive through this neighborhood. Over the years, the neighborhood had become dangerous, and he’d opted for a longer, safer route. Built after World War II, many of these small, cookie cutter ranch homes had been nailed shut with boards and plywood, the rest were rundown with the effects of the economy and unemployment. Rusted, dented older model cars lined the streets and narrow driveways. Garbage littered the tree lawns. Combined with the bare trees, dismal landscape, as well as the cloudy, grey sky, driving through this small neighborhood gave him a sense of desolation.

  And dread.

  Whoever had kidnapped Eden likely didn’t have money, or a means of escaping a life of poverty. Michael understood desperation. When he’d formulated his plan against the doctors from Cosmetic Solutions and Med Spa, he’d been desperate to right the wrongs that had been committed against his daughter. He’d learned, the hard way, that educated professionals would go to any length for money. His butchered, dead daughter the proof. He hoped to God Eden’s kidnapper wasn’t desperate enough to kill, or some psychotic without a conscience.

  When the van turned into a driveway, Michael made a mental note of the address, and continued down the street. As he drove, he checked the rearview mirror, in case the kidnapper had been onto him, and had backed the van out of the driveway. If that had happened…

  He wasn’t going to go there. At this point, he needed to stay focused, and keep his head clear. For Eden’s sake.

  Five minutes later, he parked in the employee lot outside of St. Mary’s Medical Center, then rushed into the hospital. Fortunately, Sunday mornings were quiet, and ran on a skeletal staff. He passed a housekeeper mopping the floor, nodded, then headed into the stairwell. When he reached the second floor, he hurried toward the nurse’s station. Empty.

  He quickly moved behind the counter, then sat in front of the computer. Within seconds, he accessed Eden’s medical records, then jotted down Hudson Patterson’s cell phone number. After closing her file, he stood, then headed into the hallway.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Michael turned. Laurie, the receptionist from the OR stood outside of the second floor break room. Shoving Hudson’s information into his pocket, Michael said, “I’d left something in my locker.”

  Laurie frowned. “You’re locker’s on the fourth floor.”

  Drawing on his acting skills, he looked around the ward, then shook his head and smiled. “That explains why I couldn’t get into my locker. I guess I should have had that third cup of coffee this morning. I must still be half asleep. What are you doing here?” he asked. Although he wanted to sprint out of the building and to his car, he also didn’t want to blow Laurie off and raise her suspicions.

  “I’ve got a wedding to go to next weekend, so I switched shifts…and floors.”

  Although his heart raced with anxiety and concern for Eden, Michael forced a yawn, then said, “If I don’t see you, have fun at the wedding. I’ve gotta head to my locker.” He grinned. “On the fourth floor. I have a feeling I’m not going to live this one down.” He shook his head and wagged a finger at Laurie.

  She laughed and waved. “My lips are sealed.”

  Once Michael stepped into the stairwell, he ran down the steps. He reached the first floor, then glanced around the hallway. When he didn’t see a soul, he tore down the hall, out the door, and into the parking lot.

  Chapter 24

  Hudson’s cell phone rang as he shifted the Trans Am onto the Kennedy Expressway. He quickly checked the caller ID, then answered.

  “This is Ogle County Sheriff, Jim Wilson.”

  Easing the Trans Am onto I-290 Hudson said, “Jim, thanks for calling me. One of COREs agents, Rachel Davis, said she spoke with one of your deputies, Darren Cooper, and filled him in on our situation. Will you send—?”

  “Son, I’m standing in the middle of Michael Morrison’s steel garage as we speak. Trust me. I’ve been more than filled in on the situation.” The sheriff sighed, then said, “I’ve never seen anything like this before. This garage looks like something out of a horror movie.”

  “What about Morrison? Were you able to apprehend him?”

  “We’ve checked his house from top to bottom. He’s not here. Neither is his van.”

  “Rachel told Deputy Cooper about the missing doctor, Victor Roth. Any sign of him?”

  “Not in the house or garage. I’ve got men combing through Morrison’s back fields. How long before you get here?”

  Hudson glanced at the clock. Due to the church shooting, he’d lost a lot of time. Several routes to the freeway had been clogged by traffic or blocked by the police. “According to my GPS, about ninety minutes.”

  “Okay, we’ll see you in a—hang tight,” the sheriff said, his breathing growing labored. Dogs barked in the background. Men shouted.

  Alarmed by the sudden commotion, Hudson gripped the phone tight. “Jim, what’s going on?”

  “Oh my God. Oh my God,” the sheriff said, his voice laced with revulsion.

  “Damn it, Sheriff. What the hell is it?”

  “I think we found your doctor…at least what’s left of him. Christ Almighty, this explains the coyotes.”

  Hudson’s stomach tightened. He’d hoped they’d been wrong with regards to how the killer had been disposing the bodies. During his career, he’d seen some messed up shit. Feeding human beings to animals hadn’t been one of them. “Wha
t about the coyotes?”

  The sheriff explained how the coyotes had attacked one of Morrison’s neighbors, and that the neighbor had chased the animals onto the killer’s property. “Deputy Cooper actually went to see Morrison and ask him if we could hunt the coyotes on his property. Morrison told him we could head over in a few days. Said something about having to go to Chicago to pick up a friend for a funeral.”

  “When was this?”

  “Yesterday.”

  The day they suspected Roth went missing. “Are there any other bodies?”

  “I…” The sheriff blew out a deep breath. “Sorry, I…I’m having a hard time keeping my breakfast down. There are bones scattered all through the clearing, and…hang on a sec. Cooper, what’s that over there?”

  The wind whipped in the background, dogs whimpered, then a man shouted.

  “We got a head,” the sheriff said. “A fucking head. Sick son of a bitch. I can’t believe…look, we’re going to seal off the area and wait for you.”

  “Don’t wait on me,” Hudson said. “We’ve got to find Morrison. Have your men start going through his things. In the meantime, I’m going to have Rachel contact the FBI and see if they’ll get involved. Call the State Police and have them send in their crime scene investigators.”

  After Hudson ended the call, he contacted Rachel. As her phone rang, another call came through on the line. “Patterson,” he answered.

  “Eden’s been taken.”

  Hudson’s skin crawled as fear gripped him by the throat. Recognizing the killer’s voice he weaved the Trans Am onto the exit lane. “You son of a bitch, where’d you take her?”

  Morrison chuckled. “So Eden told you about me. Did she show you the DVDs? Wait, you’re not a cop are you?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t lie to me. If you couldn’t tell from my DVDs, let me reiterate…I don’t like liars”

  “I’m not a cop. I’m Eden’s boyfriend.”

  “You listed yourself as her fiancé when you brought her to St. Mary’s ER.”

  “Is that how you got my number? Do you work there?”

  “How I know what I do shouldn’t be your concern. What you should be concerned with is who has Eden. I can assure you it’s not me. I warned her several times that someone was watching her.”

  The stalker.

  Hudson sped the car through a red light, then reentered the freeway and headed back toward Chicago. He shouldn’t have left her. Damn it, he should have waited until she’d finished with the church shooting, and let the county sheriff and state police deal with what was at Morrison’s house.

  Then again, Morrison could be lying.

  “Do you know where she is?” Hudson asked, and glanced at the clock. He could be at the church in twenty minutes.

  “I do.”

  Hudson pressed on the gas pedal and took the Trans Am to eighty five. “If you didn’t take her, who did?”

  “I’m confused about that myself,” Morrison replied. “I’ll be honest with you. I finished my patient ahead of schedule and went to Eden’s this morning to drop off the last DVD. When I pulled up to her townhouse, a news van was parked along the curb.”

  Of course a news van would be in front of Eden’s place. David was supposed to pick her up to take her to the church shooting.

  “Go on,” he prompted as he wove the car through the light Sunday morning traffic.

  “I didn’t see her get into the van, but what I did see leads me to believe that she was possibly hit with a stun gun.”

  “There’s equipment in the van, maybe what you saw was—”

  “Trust me. I know it was a stun gun. I almost bought one to help with my patients. At this point, instead of trying to put holes in my story, I suggest you listen. I followed the van and know where Eden’s been taken.”

  Hudson didn’t know what to think. Eden’s safety met top priority, but what if Morrison was blowing him a bunch of bullshit?

  He needed to call Lloyd. The plan had been for Lloyd to meet Eden at the church.

  He could also call the TV station and find out if she’d made it to the church. But he didn’t want to end the call with Morrison.

  The man had always been one step ahead of them, and had always covered his tracks. Now that he’d finished killing the men he’d blamed for his daughter’s suicide, Hudson doubted Morrison would go back to his farmhouse. Morrison had told the sheriff’s deputy that they could hunt the coyotes on his property in a few days. Hudson believed Morrison had agreed to the hunt because he’d planned to be long gone by the time anyone discovered the remains the coyotes had left behind.

  “Where are you?” Hudson asked.

  “None of your business. But I will say this. I’m where I can keep an eye on the house. If the kidnapper leaves, I want to be able to follow. I don’t want anything to happen to Eden.”

  “If you’re so concerned about her, then why don’t you just call the cops?”

  “I still have one last thing to take care of, and I can’t do that from prison.”

  Hudson glanced at the GPS. Less than a minute and he’d exit the freeway. “Okay, so you don’t want to tell me where you are, then how am I supposed to get to Eden?”

  “Where are you?”

  “On the Kennedy Expressway about to get off at West Lake Street.”

  “Good. You’re close. I know you know where St. Mary’s Medical Center is located. Head in that direction.”

  Hudson merged into the exit lane. “Look, at this point, I don’t give a shit about what you’ve done,” he said, and meant every word. Right now, his concern focused on Eden. During the Winters case, while he’d made sure no harm could come to her, his sole focus had been on catching the rapist. While he’d successfully apprehended Winters, he’d still lost Eden. Because he had to win, prove that he was the victor, he’d lost her. He wouldn’t let that happen again. She was too important to him. Even if she refused to take him back, he would die before he’d allow anything to happen to her. No matter what, he loved her. This time around, apprehending the criminal wasn’t as important as saving Eden.

  “Honestly, you should care about what I’ve done,” Morrison said. “You watched the DVDs, you witnessed their suffering. Because we’ve got a few minutes to kill, I’ll let you in on something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I hated every minute of it. I’ve never harmed a soul in my life until…well, until I performed my first breast implant. Unfortunately, I had to give these men a taste of their own medicine. I tried to go through legal channels, but the justice system doesn’t always work.”

  “So you decided to play judge, jury and executioner in your OR.”

  “I take it Eden shared our phone conversation with you as well. You two must be very close. Do you love her?”

  “I’m three blocks from St. Mary’s Medical Center. Where next?” he asked instead of answering Morrison’s question. How he felt about Eden wasn’t the killer’s business.

  “Please answer my question.”

  “Or?”

  “Or?” Morrison echoed. “I’m the only person, other than your fiancée’s kidnapper, who knows Eden’s location. Do you really want to screw with me?”

  He didn’t. He wanted Eden safe, and in his arms. “Yes, I love her,” he admitted.

  “Good. Do you plan on marrying her?”

  Damn it. Explaining his messed-up love life to a man who had tortured and mutilated his victims didn’t sit well with him. Still, Morrison was right. He needed the man’s help to find Eden. “It’s complicated,” Hudson said.

  “What’s so complicated? Unless she doesn’t love you.”

  “She does, it’s just…look, now isn’t the time to get into my relationship with Eden.”

  “It’s just what?” Morrison insisted.

  Hudson made a turn, caught a street sign for St. Mary’s Medical Center. “I’ll be in front of the hospital any second. Where do I go from here?”

  “Answer my question first.
”

  Slamming his fist against the steering wheel, Hudson gripped the phone. “Why? What do you care?”

  “I like Eden, and I want her to be happy. I wasn’t able to give that same happiness to my daughter. Is it such a bad thing to care?”

  The images of Eliza Morrison’s before and after photos surfaced. A wave of empathy knocked Hudson in the chest. While he still didn’t agree with how Morrison had handled his vendetta against the doctors from Med Spa, he sympathized with his loss. The man had lost his daughter, then his wife. For some reason, Morrison had made a connection with Eden. Considering the current situation, he decided there wasn’t anything wrong with Morrison caring for Eden. Besides, if it wasn’t for Morrison, he wouldn’t have even known Eden had been taken, let alone her location.

  “No,” Hudson finally said. “I’m glad you care about her enough to help. For the record, we do love each other. As you know, though, she’s moving.”

  “The Network job in New York,” Morrison said. “Her ambitions have paid off quite nicely.”

  “She deserves the job.”

  “She deserves to be happy. I’ve seen the two of you together, and until you came along, I hadn’t seen her smile much. Keep in mind, careers, jobs, they come and go.” He released a sigh, then said, “Drive past St. Mary’s, and make a right onto Ledge Road.”

  “I’m turning now.”

  “Good. Go down two blocks, then turn left onto Maple Street. Park the car in front of a white house with a bright red door. It’s on the right side of the street. You can’t miss it.”

  Hudson turned onto Maple Street, slowed the Trans Am, then abruptly swerved. “I’m here,” he said as he parked, and stared at the house with the red door.

  He jerked and swiveled when a rap came at the driver’s side window. Hudson immediately recognized Michael Morrison from his driver’s license photo. Holding the phone away from his ear, Hudson slipped it into his jacket pocket, then showed Morrison his empty hands. While he carried a gun, he didn’t need Morrison to know and become skittish.

  “I’m getting out,” Hudson shouted.