Don't Breathe: A Gripping Serial Killer Thriller (Darkwater Cove Psychological Thriller Book 6)

by Dan Padavona

Darcy taps the phone against her knee.

  “Three victims. All received flowers covered in spider webs from an anonymous sender. I can see someone sneaking into Brit’s apartment complex or the library, but no way a delivery person entered the school without someone noticing. There’s no doubt in my mind. Our unsub works at Smith Town High with Ali Haynes.”

  “I’ll call Principal Diaz. He’ll supply us with a list of suspects. How do we narrow the list?”

  “Target teachers in their twenties and thirties. He’s good looking and intelligent. And he had Brit Ryan and Nadia Ames as students.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Saturday, September 19th

  7:00 p.m.

  The orange stripe of last light hangs on the horizon like a mournful memory. Julian cuts down a side street cloaked by darkness, one eye fixed to the tracking application on his phone. Sean’s Porsche drives two blocks ahead. Julian holds newfound respect for the boy—the teenager has eyes in the back of his head. No doubt he’s searching the mirrors for Julian’s car, expecting the officer to follow.

  Julian stops at the curb when a minivan backs out of a driveway beside a brown ranch house. When the minivan heads toward the Porsche, Julian falls in behind, shielding his presence with the minivan. He presses the gas and catches up. They’ve closed the gap on the Porsche, Sean only one block ahead and unmoving. Could be Sean hit a traffic jam. Unlikely after sunset in Genoa Cove, but Julian can hope.

  It isn’t until the minivan peels off to the right that Julian realizes the Porsche left the road. Tilting the phone toward him, Julian snaps his fingers.

  “I got you now, you little prick.”

  The Porsche idles inside Elm Street Park, a popular make out point since before a young Julian moved to Genoa Cove. Julian douses the headlights and coasts through the night. The park entrance stands half a block ahead, a chain-link gate open. The app tells him Sean drove past the lot and toward the pavilions inside the park. A creek trickles alongside the pavilions, a stone’s throw from the playground equipment. If Sean parks behind the pavilion, the Porsche will be invisible from the parking lot.

  Paranoid after the teenager recognized Julian inside Antonia’s, he pulls alongside a yellow two-story three houses from the park entrance. Shutting down the engine, Julian zooms in on the Porsche’s location and confirms Sean stopped beside the creek.

  He locks the doors and checks the sidewalk. Nobody watches as he strides to the gate. In the park, Julian sticks to the shadows and uses the trees for cover. The same chain-link fence wraps around a baseball field and serves as the home run wall. He walks the long way around the field where old-growth trees hang branches over the barrier. He can’t see the car yet. The creek gurgles in the distance.

  Maybe he should call Kurt at the office. Let him know Sean took the freshman girl to the pavilions. Instead, he maintains a silent vigil.

  Julian passes the metal merry-go-round and the monkey bars. More playground equipment rises from the earth near the picnic area. He’s almost to the playground when he hears Sean’s voice and the crack of a can opening. Sounds like Sean brought a six pack along for the ride. Mary giggles as Julian sets his back against a tower rising toward a winding tube slide. The night thickens around him as full dark descends on Genoa Cove. Dew wicks the cuffs of his jeans and chills his ankles as he swats a mosquito away. He cringes when the wood mulch crunches beneath his sneakers.

  The teenagers go silent. Julian’s pulse quickens as the quiet lingers.

  Another can snaps open. The noise forgotten, Sean and Mary return to their beers. A hum inside his pocket makes Julian jump. He pulls the phone out and reads Mrs. Lucas’s name on the screen. Her timing couldn’t be worse. Julian wants to send Mrs. Lucas to voice-mail, but Sharon’s mother promised she’d call if there was a problem with Jennifer. Cursing under his breath, Julian jogs away from the equipment. Before he reaches the fence, Mrs. Lucas hangs up. Gambling he’s safe to speak without Sean and Mary hearing, Julian calls the woman back.

  “I don’t know how she got away,” Mrs. Lucas says, breathless.

  “Slow down. Are you saying Jennifer isn’t at your house?”

  Mrs. Lucas’s words fly out in a panic.

  “One second she asked to use the bathroom, and the next the window opened.”

  “Slow down. How long ago did this happen?”

  “Uh, no more than five minutes ago. I would have called sooner, but Sharon and I searched the neighborhood first. There’s no sign of Jennifer anywhere. I don’t know what to do.”

  Julian runs a hand through his hair. On the other side of the creek, Sean laughs at the top of his lungs.

  “Stay in the house, in case Jennifer returns. I’ll call the department and ask them to keep an eye out for her.”

  Julian minimizes the call and swipes to the map. Enlarging the picture, he spots Lucas’s street four blocks from the park. Close enough for Julian to catch Jennifer if she headed east.

  “Sharon called her friends,” Mrs. Lucas says. “They’re searching for Jennifer too.”

  “Good plan. I’m close to your house. She couldn’t have gone far on foot. Call me back if you hear anything.”

  Julian wants to scream. He should have seen this coming, should have expected Jennifer to run off. She hasn’t been herself over the last month. Even before the Sean incident, she’d been a boiling pot with the lid clamped on.

  What to do? Jennifer’s safety is his priority. But if he leaves, Mary will be at Sean’s mercy.

  He scrolls through his contacts and brings up Cynthia’s number. Before he calls his partner, a shadow passes through the baseball field.

  Julian isn’t alone in the night.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Saturday, September 19th

  7:05 p.m.

  The ringing phone taunts Darcy. She presses redial and scowls after Principal Diaz doesn’t answer.

  “He’s not busy,” she says, tapping Ketchum’s phone as he drives. “Diaz knows your number. He’s avoiding us.”

  Ketchum turns the SUV toward the center of town, the sensation they’re out of time pressing on Darcy and her partner.

  “What if you’re right about the school angle, but off on the age?”

  Darcy glances at Ketchum in question.

  “Principal Diaz kidnapped Ali Haynes?”

  Ketchum lifts his shoulders.

  “Not sure what to believe at this point. But it makes sense. He’s good looking and has an ego the size of Smith Town. And he served as principal when Nadia Ames and Brit Ryan attended Smith Town High.”

  “It doesn’t feel right. Diaz? No, it’s somebody closer to Ali. Someone all three women trusted.” Darcy sets Ketchum’s phone in the center compartment and locates Annika Bava’s number on her own phone. “I’m calling Bava back. She has to know the killer.”

  The phone rings in Darcy’s ear.

  “Ms. Bava? This is Agent Haines with the FBI calling.”

  Annika sucks in a breath.

  “Please tell me you found Ali, and she’s alive.”

  “When we last spoke, we never assumed the man who sent Ali flowers worked in the school.”

  “Wait, a teacher kidnapped Ali?”

  “Try to remember. Who dated Ali Haynes over the last two years?”

  “The school forbids teachers from dating each other. If Ali disobeyed Diaz and formed a relationship, the district would fire her.”

  When Annika goes quiet, Darcy worries the call dropped.

  “Ms. Bava, are you there?”

  “Oh, no.”

  “I need a name, Ms. Bava. Someone asked Haynes on a date, and she refused. Who was the teacher?”

  Annika sniffles.

  “I thought nothing of the offer when it happened. Last fall, Tod McHugh, the senior high earth science teacher, invited Ali to his house for dinner.”

  Darcy snaps her fingers to get Ketchum’s attention. He pulls to the curb as she scribbles McHugh’s name on a notepad and hands it to him
. It’s the same man who refused to allow them inside the school before the football game. He fits the profile—young, good-looking, egotistical. Darcy recalls McHugh following them to Diaz’s office before the principal intervened.

  “Did she accept McHugh’s invitation?”

  “No, on account of school rules. That was Ali’s first semester. Even the union would have turned their backs on Ali if she’d done something that stupid.”

  “How did McHugh react to Ali turning him down?”

  “He didn’t. Tod acted normal. Well, normal for him. He’s a strange guy.”

  “What do you mean by strange?”

  “He’ll puff out his chest and act like he runs the department, if you question his teaching methods. But he keeps to himself. He avoids department picnics and team-building activities. We always assumed he considered us beneath him. I can’t put my finger on it. Something about the guy seems off.”

  As Ketchum radios the Smith Town PD about McHugh, Darcy asks, “After the proposal, did McHugh contact her again?”

  Bava concentrates.

  “Not that I remember. But a week after, Ali got a series of hangup calls on her cell.”

  “Hangup calls,” Darcy repeats, giving Ketchum a thumbs-up. “Ali received more hangup calls over the last month.”

  “She never told me.”

  After Darcy thanks Annika for her help, Ketchum punches McHugh’s address into the GPS.

  “Smith Town PD will meet us a mile south of McHugh’s place,” Ketchum says,. “He lives outside Smith Town on Meeker Road.”

  “Meeker? I know where that is. Jesus, I’ve biked down McHugh’s street.”

  Ketchum watches Darcy from the corner of his eye as he shifts into drive.

  “Maybe McHugh isn’t calling you because you’re a federal agent. Could be he saw you ride past his house and—”

  “I don’t want to think about it. Just get us there.”

  The darkness whips toward the windshield as Ketchum navigates the SUV toward Smith Town’s outskirts. A horn blares from a pickup truck when Ketchum misjudges a curve and crosses the center line. A moment later, the last streetlight fades in the mirrors. This is God’s country. Except for the occasional farm, their silos blotting out the stars like alien giants, no life exists outside Smith Town.

  Darcy’s phone rings. Reading Julian’s name on the screen, Darcy answers.

  “We know who it is, Julian. Ketchum and I are meeting Smith Town PD at—”

  “Jennifer’s missing.”

  Darcy’s mouth goes dry.

  Two words she never dreamed she’d hear again. Bile rises through her chest as she clutches the door handle.

  “Darcy?”

  “I’m here. What do you mean she’s missing? She was at the Lucas’s house.”

  “Jennifer climbed out the bathroom window and ran off. But I have an idea where she is.”

  “Where is she?”

  “After you left, I tracked Sean Braden and a freshman girl to Antonia’s. He took her to that park on the edge of Genoa Cove, the one with the baseball field and pavilions.”

  “What does this have to do with Jennifer?”

  “Like all idiot teenage boys, Sean bragged about his plans in a group chat. Kurt’s daughter forwarded him the messages. Every teen on that group chat knows where Sean took the girl.”

  Darcy’s head spins.

  “Jennifer read the messages and went after him.”

  “That’s my guess. It’s the only explanation which makes sense. Listen, every GCPD cop cruising the village tonight is looking for Jennifer. We’ll find her.”

  Darcy stares at the phone when the call ends. Ketchum watches her. He overheard enough of the conversation to figure out Julian can’t find her daughter.

  Not this again.

  “The best detective in North Carolina is on the case,” Ketchum says. “I’ll get you back to town.”

  “No. Julian will find my daughter. Let’s get Ali Haynes out of McHugh’s house. The nightmare ends tonight.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Saturday, September 19th

  7:10 p.m.

  Darkness breathes against the house. Ali’s captor nailed a board over the broken window pane to keep her from escaping. Night creeps inside around the edges.

  A rope binds Ali’s waist to the metal folding chair as her head bobs. She fights to keep her eyes open as the injections and spider venoms ripple through her body. Through slitted eyes, she watches Tod open the tank and set the tarantula on the gravel substrate. It occurs to her Tod was always fascinated with spiders. He kept an aquarium of wolf spiders in his classroom, some specimens larger than a human hand and sure to scare any kid with an aversion to bugs.

  Almost a year ago to the day, Tod asked Ali to join him at his house for dinner. She’d politely declined because of Diaz’s rules. Though she wouldn’t have dated Tod. Something about the way he looked at her when they passed in the hall made goosebumps rise on Ali’s skin. As if he peered inside her, stole her innermost secrets. If a man could violate a woman with his eyes, Tod could.

  Murder.

  The scent clings to the air like a red haze. This isn’t the first time Tod abducted a woman and brought her home to his prison, his private torture chamber.

  Until now, she hadn’t thought about the two dead women from Smith Town. One woman was named Ames. She remembers because the woman worked at the public library where Ali tutors students struggling to pass her classes. The other dead woman…Ryan? The articles drift back to her. Both died from spider bites.

  Why hadn’t she matched the two deaths to her predicament? The police gave her no reason to suspect murder. Venomous spiders loose in North Carolina—the perfect headline for the media.

  Tod killed the women. Somehow, he staged their deaths and hid his presence from the authorities.

  She has to get out of here. The last spider he dropped in her lap, a gargantuan bird-eater tarantula from the Amazon rain forest, left two puncture wounds a half-inch deep in her flesh. She hasn’t been able to think straight since the venom hit her bloodstream. Now he taps the center tank on the upper shelf.

  “Your final test, Ali. You failed every exam up to this point, but as I always tell my students, ‘it’s your final grade that matters.’ Are you ready?”

  “Tod, if this is about last year, I regret I didn’t say yes.”

  “Too late to change your mind.”

  “You aren’t thinking straight. The school rules state—”

  “I remember the goddamn rules, Ali. I’m on Diaz’s rules committee.”

  “Then you understand why I declined. It’s not that I wasn’t interested. Most women would love to date a man like you.”

  He swivels and faces her, arms twitching as they hang at his sides.

  “Then why do all of you laugh behind my back?”

  Ali shakes her head.

  “We don’t.”

  “Liar! I see the way you and that Middle-Eastern bitch snicker at me like little schoolgirls.”

  “Annika? She never mentions you.”

  The second the words leave Ali’s mouth, she regrets them. In his twisted mind, Tod interprets Annika not speaking about him as a slight. That he’s unworthy of their attention.

  “After I finish with you, perhaps I’ll visit your friend.”

  “We all like you, Tod. All the teachers and administrators.”

  “The kids call me a freak, and all you teachers regard me like I’m a leper. You’re blind. All of you. Outside of school, I can have any woman I want. I don’t need you or your friend.”

  Ali sniffles. Her eyes burn with tears.

  “Let me go. Okay, Tod? I’ll tell the police this was a misunderstanding. I won’t press charges.”

  Tod steps closer and regards her as he would a child who dropped her dinner on the new carpet.

  “I’m in no danger. Why would the police care? You came to my home because you love me.”

  She bites her tongue and dr
aws blood. He’s insane. Ali walks a tightrope. One wrong word, and he’ll explode. But she can’t stop the angry words from bursting forth.

  “I didn’t come here on my own. You kidnapped me, you son-of-a-bitch. Don’t you get it, Tod? When the police find you, they’ll arrest you for abduction. They’ll check my cell records and trace the calls. You didn’t throw the prepaid phones away. Right, Tod?”

  He flinches.

  “You don’t enjoy hearing that you screwed up. Or maybe you don’t like me saying your name?”

  Tod refuses to answer. A vein throbs along his neck. She tugs at the ropes, but he bound her tight. Her arms remain free. If he tied her wrists, he couldn’t administer his test.

  When he removes the lid from the terrarium, an ugly, black monster of a spider creeps away from the heat lamp.

  “The Australian funnel-web spider,” he says, eyes wide as he stares through the glass. “One bite, and the venom will hit your system like a tidal wave. The pain is exquisite, Ali. You’ll feel a tingling sensation inside your mouth before you froth and drip saliva like a rabid dog. Then you’ll grow short of breath, and your heart rate will speed. You must remain calm and control your breathing to avoid cardiac arrest. But if the reaction strengthens…well, there’s nothing to prevent your heart from overloading. Expect your muscles to spasm and cramp as though you ran a marathon without consuming water. You might experience seizures. No matter. It won’t last long. You’ll die in a half-hour.”

  Ali masks the shiver trailing down her spine.

  “What if the spider bites you, Tod? Ever considered what you’d do if your babies turned on you?”

  Tod reaches down and pulls a pair of long, black gloves off the shelves.

  “This is my safety net,” he says as he slips the gloves over his hands and past his forearms. “And the antivenom, of course. But you won’t need the antivenom. Right, Ali? Because you’ll pass this exam.”

  His hands plunge inside the center tank. The spider crouches in his gloved palms like a coiled spring.

  “Now, steady yourself. You only get one chance to pass.”