by Herron, Rita
Liz dove for it, but Harlan grabbed her leg, and she fell face forward onto the floor. She kicked at him, trying to dislodge his hand, but the asshole yanked her backward and crawled on top of her, straddling her back.
Rafe jabbed his hand with the knife and cursed, but one more slice of the knife, and his hands jerked free. Pulse hammering, he slashed the ropes around his feet and lunged for Harlan.
He yanked him off of Liz, threw him to the floor, and sank his knife deep into his belly. Harlan’s eyes widened in shock, and he emitted a gurgling sound.
The man’s blood soaked Rafe’s hands as he dug the knife deeper.
Liz pushed herself up from the floor, her lungs straining for air. She drew in a deep breath, relieved that Rafe had subdued Harlan. That the bastard was the one finally feeling pain.
A horrible thought, but she couldn’t help herself. He’d killed her mother and baby.
He deserved to die.
Rafe looked up at her, the emotions in his eyes mirroring her own.
Liz didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the knife from Rafe and thrust it again as deep as she could into the man’s belly.
“Where have you been hiding all this time?” she growled.
Harlan’s eyes fluttered closed, and then he opened them again. “Watching you,” he said in a choked voice. “All those women I carved up . . . All for you.”
“You’re the Dissector?” Liz asked.
Harlan nodded and then coughed, the sound feeble, as Liz twisted the knife again and watched the life drain from him.
Rafe met the ME outside and directed him to Harlan’s body.
He watched as he loaded Harlan into the back of the ambulance. But he couldn’t bring himself to look at Liz, knowing she’d kept something as important as her pregnancy from him.
Lieutenant Maddison and his crew pulled up, and Liz went to fill them in.
God, she’d been through hell, but even with blood on her neck and bruises on her face and arms, she looked beautiful.
Dammit. He’d almost been too late, and Liz had nearly died because of it.
But she had survived.
If Harlan was telling the truth, they could tie up both cases with his arrest, and she’d finally be safe.
Then . . . what?
What was he going to do?
He’d lost his head over her again. But how could he forgive her for not telling him about the baby?
Worse, how could he forgive himself for not being there to protect her and his child?
Liz explained to Maddison and the CSI team what had happened. “Let’s search this place for evidence to confirm that Harlan was the Dissector. If we find the body parts he took, we can nail him.”
CSI Perkins gestured toward the dead man, his brows furrowed. “You think he was lying?”
Liz shrugged weakly. “I just don’t want to miss anything.”
“Don’t worry,” Lieutenant Maddison assured her. “We’ll be thorough.”
Liz wanted to explain about the pregnancy, but she sensed Rafe closing down, and she was exhausted. Now the ordeal was over, her adrenaline was waning fast.
She should’ve been content. Relieved.
But Harlan’s confession bothered her. Something wasn’t quite right about it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tension stretched between Rafe and Liz as he drove her back to her house. She relayed what Mazie had told her.
“So Harlan worked for the Commander too?” Rafe said.
Liz nodded. “Apparently. According to him, there are others.”
Rafe’s hand tightened around the steering wheel. “That fits with what Roper told us. He’s Ten.”
Liz went cold. There were ten?
That meant Eight and Nine were still unaccounted for.
“I promised Mazie I’d help her go into the witness protection program,” Liz said. “Even if the Commander is dead, she still could be in danger.”
Rafe agreed, and Liz made a mental note to phone her superior and arrange the new identity for Mazie.
They also needed to meet with the press, but she wanted more evidence to corroborate Harlan’s confession before she released a public statement.
Rafe pulled in to her complex, his expression tormented as he walked her to her door. “You finally found your mother’s killer and got justice for her.” Emotions darkened his eyes. “You can leave the bureau now.”
Liz squared her shoulders. “You want me to quit?”
“If you don’t quit, I’m going to request a transfer.”
Did he think she was that incompetent, or did he just hate her now? “Is this because you think I messed up with Harlan?”
The anger in his voice was searing. “For God’s sake, Liz, he killed our unborn child. A baby you didn’t even bother to tell me about.”
Liz’s heart thumped wildly. Regret, sorrow, anger, and a dozen other emotions filled her, leaving her voice weak. “I know what he did. I’ve had to live with it for the past few months.” In fact, that was the reason she’d fallen into such a deep, dark depression. The reason she’d needed the medication.
Her hand shook as she unlocked the door and stumbled inside.
Not only had she lost her baby and her chance of ever having one, but she’d lost Rafe for good as well.
Rafe gripped the steering wheel, battling the emotions pummeling him.
He had been scared to death when he’d seen Harlan holding that knife to Liz’s throat. And this was the second time in a year.
He couldn’t stand to see her in danger again.
The anguish on her face when he’d mentioned the baby wrenched his heart. God . . . if he’d found her sooner last time, maybe he could have saved their child.
Maybe he’d have a son or daughter now. A real family.
Something he’d never had.
He pinched the bridge of his nose to regain control, then backed out of the parking spot. Too upset to sleep, he headed toward the helicopter crash site, figuring that Jake would still be there with the crime-scene investigators.
They had certainly kept Lieutenant Maddison’s crew busy the past few days.
Thirty minutes later, he reached the site. Emergency vehicles, police cars, crime-scene investigators, and rubberneckers were parked along the road. Two uniformed officers were trying to keep the curiosity seekers away from the scene. Lights still flickered here and there in the woods, workers combing the area and collecting the debris for analysis.
He spotted Jake talking to a dark-haired guy wearing a CSI vest and hurried toward him.
“Rafe, you’re back?” Jake asked.
“Yeah.” He relayed the night’s events. “Harlan is dead. And he confessed that he is—was—the Dissector.”
Jake rubbed at the back of his neck. “You believe him?”
“I want to,” Rafe said, hating the doubts in his head. “What reason would he have to confess to murders he didn’t commit?”
“He’s a psychopath,” Jake said. “Maybe he wants the attention.”
Rafe inhaled sharply. “You could be right. We’ll review all the evidence we have and hope it supports his confession. The crime-scene investigators are looking for the missing body parts at the house where he held Liz.”
“Good work,” Jake said.
“Any luck on Truitt?”
There was still the possibility he was one of the secret subjects.
“My deputy is still looking. He found out Truitt had an assault charge three years ago, but the charges were dropped. He went to talk to the woman Truitt was accused of attacking.”
“What about you? Did you find the bodies of the Commander and the secretary of defense?”
“We’ve recovered the pilot’s body, but the others were blown to bits. The lab will have to look at teeth and DNA to confirm who w
as on that chopper.”
Jake gestured to the investigator, who was holding something in an evidence bag. “We found a finger. I’m certain it was my father’s.”
Rafe peered at the bag. “Why do you think that?”
“The signet ring. He got it in the military and never took it off.”
Relief filled Rafe. Harlan and the Commander were both dead. Now they could close both cases and end the reign of terror haunting Slaughter Creek.
Liz removed the baby blanket she’d kept in the closet, not bothering to fight the tears.
It had been a horrible night.
The trauma of having Harlan’s hands on her made her shudder, and she stripped off the dress he’d forced her to wear and threw it into the trash. She jumped into the shower and scrubbed herself until her skin was almost raw, but still she felt his hands on her, his breath bathing her face as he held that knife to her throat.
He’s dead, she reminded herself as she dried off, pulled on pajamas, and poured herself a drink. She walked to the den and looked through the French doors to her screened porch, but in her mind she saw Harlan gasping for his last breath.
She should be comforted by his death. Her mother had finally gotten justice, and Liz would never have to worry about him stalking her again.
She tossed down the drink, then crawled into bed and hugged the covers and baby blanket to her.
Once she’d believed that finding and killing Harlan was the most important thing in the world.
But now she’d achieved that, she realized how empty her life was.
The fact that Rafe blamed her for losing their child made fresh tears fill her eyes.
She’d won by ending it with Harlan.
But she’d lost Rafe, and any chance that they might have of a future.
The next morning Liz arranged protection for Mazie, then met with Brenda for the press conference. Jake, Nick, and Rafe showed up as well, but they all looked exhausted, as if they hadn’t slept.
“This is Brenda Banks coming to you live from the courthouse in Slaughter Creek. We have Sheriff Blackwood here, along with Special Agents Nick Blackwood, Rafe Hood, and Liz Lucas.”
She turned to the stage where all of them stood. “Sheriff Blackwood, would you like to begin?”
Jake stepped up to the mic. “For days the police have been searching for Commander Arthur Blackwood, who escaped from the state prison. Last night Agent Nick Blackwood and Agent Hood discovered that he was meeting with the secretary of defense at the hospital and planned to escape via helicopter. The chopper exploded in midair above the wooded area by the hospital. The pilot died in the explosion, along with Secretary of Defense Mallard. Law enforcement agencies are now investigating the possibility that the secretary of defense was connected to the Slaughter Creek experiments.”
Nick stepped up next. “The TBI is working in conjunction with other law officials and agencies to determine the part that the secretary of defense may have played in the Slaughter Creek experiments and the deaths of those associated with the project. We also have detained the man responsible for Senator Stowe’s death. His name is Chet Roper. He belonged to a militant group called SFTF, and he’s admitted to tying up loose ends for the Commander and the secretary of defense by killing the senator.”
Rafe stepped up to the podium next, and Liz joined him. “We also apprehended the serial killer Ned Harlan, known as the Blade, last night. He was killed while being arrested.”
He stepped away to give Liz access to the microphone, but averted his gaze.
If you don’t quit, I’m going to request a transfer.
The other reporters and locals who’d met to hear the news announcements grew restless, whispering among themselves, drawing Liz back to the case.
“Before Ned Harlan died, he confessed to the murders of Ester Banning, Beaulah Hodge, and Ruth Rodgers. Police and crime-scene investigators are still investigating, but at this point, we believe the man everyone called the Dissector and Harlan were one and the same.”
Reporters’ hands shot up, and Liz stepped back to let the Blackwood brothers and Jake respond.
But unanswered questions nagged at her.
They hadn’t recovered the body parts at that house. Had Harlan just confessed to get attention?
If he had, the Dissector was still out there.
He wouldn’t like someone else taking credit for his kills.
Which meant he would be hungry for another victim, just to prove to the police and TBI that they were wrong.
Six clapped his hands over his ears as they finished that stupid broadcast. Brenda Banks had gotten all the major players on-screen at once.
But that fucking profiler Liz Lucas was the one he couldn’t tear his gaze from. She was supposed to be the best? The one who understood people like him?
Amelia was the only one who understood him.
If Agent Lucas was really that smart, she’d know Harlan was lying. He could use her mistake to his advantage, though, lie low and wait awhile for his next kill.
But he had better plans. He clenched the phone he’d stolen from Amelia in his sweaty hand.
He wasn’t like Harlan. He only took the lives of bad people, like the nurses who were supposed to take care of people but tortured them instead.
Heat simmered in his blood. There was one other who’d hurt him.
The Castor woman.
The truth hit him like a fist in the chest—he knew why she hadn’t been home.
That fucking profiler had warned her that he’d come for her.
Fuck. He wanted the Castor woman’s heart.
But Liz Lucas had gotten in the way. The damn woman had to pay.
She was smart.
He wanted her brain.
The brain . . .
Facts filled his head. The brain is responsible for movement and control, emotions and feelings, the senses, language and communication, thinking and memory. The skull is called the cranium. The four main sections of the brain are the cerebrum, the cerebellum, the pons, and the medulla. Thought processes are controlled by the cerebrum; muscle coordination and body equilibrium, by the cerebellum. The pons receives and sends impulses from the brain to the spinal cord. The medulla regulates breathing, heartbeat, and vomiting.
Six clapped his hands over his ears again—stop, stop, stop! But the sayings about the brain screamed in his head.
She has the brains of a gnat.
Going to beat her brains out.
He’ll blow her brains out.
He wants to pick her brain.
They were going to rack their brains.
She has shit for brains.
He’s brain dead.
An idle brain is the devil’s workshop.
The scarecrow went to Oz to get a brain . . .
The singsong voice of the scarecrow echoed in his head—If I only had a brain . . .
Laughter bubbled in his throat. When he had the Lucas woman’s brain, maybe he’d study it.
Maybe he’d even give it to the scarecrow.
Then he’d take the Castor woman’s heart, and his collection would truly be complete.
Chapter Thirty
After the press conference ended, Rafe considered the details that still needed tying up. The fact that they hadn’t found the organs let doubts creep in.
And they still hadn’t found Truitt.
“I’ll follow up with the ME,” Rafe said.
Nick cleared his throat. “I’ll confer with the agents who searched the secretary of defense’s house.”
Jake looked sheepish. “If you guys don’t need me, I’m going to the cabin to see my family.”
Liz smiled at the hungry way he said it. Jake obviously adored Sadie and his daughter. They were lucky to have found each other. She’d heard the story about Sadie leaving town a
fter high school, and she knew they’d had to overcome obstacles to be together. But in the end, their love had been strong enough to get them through.
Her heart throbbed with a dull ache. She wanted that kind of love with Rafe.
But what did she have to offer?
If he wanted a child, she couldn’t give it to him.
He didn’t even want to work with her.
She had to accept it.
Her heart heavy, she turned to leave. But just as she reached her car, her phone buzzed with a text.
She slid into the driver’s seat, then checked it. Maybe Rafe had changed his mind and wanted her to accompany him to talk to the ME.
But the text was from Amelia.
I’m ready to talk. Meet me at the old drive-in outside town.
Liz’s pulse jumped. Maybe Amelia was going to tell her Six’s identity now.
For a millisecond she considered calling Rafe to fill him in, but he’d dismissed her so easily that she refrained.
She quickly texted back that she’d meet Amelia, threw the car into gear, and drove from the parking lot.
She couldn’t rest until she tied up the loose ends of the Slaughter Creek case and made sure that Harlan was actually the Dissector.
Rafe stepped into the morgue with the ME, Dr. Bullock.
“Harlan definitely died from the knife wound,” Dr. Bullock said as he uncovered the body.
Rafe stared at the man’s ugly face, thinking how peaceful he looked in death, while in life he’d been a monster.
“It hit the main artery in his heart, and he bled out.”
Ironic that his heart had bled out when the man had no heart.
“You good with the chief?” Bullock asked.
Rafe nodded. “Self-defense. Harlan had a knife to Agent Lucas’s throat.” And he’d killed their child.
Now he understood Liz’s depression after the attack.