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

by Dan Padavona

  Ali’s entire body trembles as he approaches. She can’t pull her eyes from the disgusting spider. This is the arachnid that killed the women found in the woods. It shifts in his palms. He bends down and places the spider on the exposed, meaty flesh of her right arm. Its appendages claw her skin as though searching for a spot to burrow.

  The more she shakes, the more volatile the spider becomes.

  “Shh,” he says, touching her cheek. “She’s ready to bite. Don’t breathe.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Saturday, September 19th

  7:25 p.m.

  A shadow follows Julian through the park. He can’t see it, but he feels the silhouette like a breath of winter against his back. His nerves frayed, he shoots glances over his shoulder as he creeps toward the playground.

  Since the laughter stopped five minutes ago, Julian hasn’t heard Sean and Mary, and it’s impossible to see them in the dark. A beacon pulling him forward, the Porsche glows beneath the starlight. He peers around the climbing tower as footsteps swish through the grass. Spinning around, Julian searches the park for his pursuer. Where are you?

  A moment after he kneels behind the slide, a car door closes. Sean lured Mary inside the Porsche. Listening for signs of a struggle, Julian shields the light from his phone and checks his messages. Did he make a mistake? He assumed Jennifer ran to the park to encounter Sean. But she could be anywhere in Genoa Cove, and a serial killer stalks the neighboring town. He’ll never forgive himself for abandoning Jennifer if something bad happens. No, he can’t allow himself to think that way. She has to be here. The only reason for Jennifer to flee the Lucas house is to catch Sean assaulting Mary.

  Julian checks the time. His step-daughter went missing a half-hour ago. The Porsche groans as two teenagers sprawl in the backseat.

  “Come on, Sean,” he says, urging the brat to make a mistake.

  He’s eighteen. Technically, Julian could nail Sean for statutory rape. But it wouldn’t fly if Mary and her parents refused to press charges.

  A footfall crunches the mulch behind him a second before someone grabs his shoulder. He swerves and reaches for his gun. It’s Cynthia, his partner, pressing a finger to her lips. She nods at the Porsche.

  “Sean talked Mary into the car?” she asks, her voice a notch above a whisper.

  “I think so. He also brought a six-pack of beer.”

  “Well, worst-case scenario, we nab him for underage drinking and trespassing after the park closed.”

  “A slap on the wrist. Who cares?” He glances over her shoulder. “How long have you been following me?”

  “I just arrived.”

  “We’re not alone in the park. Someone has been ghosting me for the last fifteen minutes.”

  Cynthia searches the park. Darkness blankets the land. Behind them, the metal backstop guarding the baseball field radiates silver light.

  “Why did you come?” he asks. “You said you’d look for Jennifer.”

  “That’s why I’m here. Ten minutes ago, a girl ducked behind a row of condominiums at the end of the block. It looked like Jennifer, but it was too dark to be sure. After I parked the cruiser, the same girl crossed the street a hundred yards ahead of me. Whoever it was, she moved fast.”

  “That has to be Jennifer. Did she head in this direction?”

  “She angled toward the park, but I couldn’t tell if she walked through the gate. By the time I ran to the parking lot, the girl disappeared.”

  The springs moan inside the Porsche. Julian motions Cynthia closer to the car. Staying light on his feet, Julian darts to the pavilion and crouches next to a support beam. Cynthia breathes beside him. They’re close enough to discern voices inside the car. Sean must have lowered a window.

  “You’re moving too fast,” Mary says after Sean kisses him.

  “Sorry. I’ll slow down.”

  More kissing. Then a grunt as Mary struggles beneath the boy’s weight.

  “You promised we wouldn’t do anything else,” she says, her voice strained.

  “Oh, give it up. Why do you think I brought a freshman bitch out here?”

  “Stop, Sean. I mean it.”

  Julian tenses. If he reacts too soon, he won’t catch Sean assaulting Mary. But if he waits too long…

  Cynthia glances at him with her lips pulled thin and tight. She’s ready to break the teens apart. He grabs her arm and shakes his head.

  “Almost,” he whispers.

  Inside the car, Mary struggles harder. The luxury sports car rocks as Sean subdues the girl on the backseat.

  “I’ll tell my parents,” Mary says, wincing.

  “Go for it. We’ll sue you for false accusations.”

  When the sound of fabric tearing splits the night, Julian shoots out of his crouch and weaves around the picnic tables toward the Porsche. Cynthia stays on his heels.

  Julian stops in his tracks when a shadow passes along the car. The door flies open. Shouts.

  Leaping over the last picnic table between him and the car, blocking out the pain gripping his stomach, Julian rushes toward the mayhem. He watches with wide eyes as a girl, her face hidden inside a hooded sweatshirt, yanks Sean out of the car and throws him to the ground. The stunned boy has no time to react before Jennifer pounces on him. Her fists rain down on Sean’s face as he covers up. Then he shakes off the cobwebs and bucks his smaller foe off his hips. Before Sean leaps at Jennifer, Mary crashes upon his back. Whoever taught Mary to fight, Julian could learn a thing or two from the trainer.

  Mary’s arms snake around Sean’s head. She tightens the sleeper hold as Jennifer scrambles to her feet. Julian reads her intentions and grabs Jennifer, tugging her backward before she can kick her attacker in the face. Sean powers Mary’s arms away from his neck and crawls to his knees.

  Too late. Cynthia wrestles Sean’s arms behind his back and flattens him to the ground. She reads the boy his Miranda rights as he curses.

  “Get off me, you bitch! I didn’t do anything.”

  “What happened in there?” Cynthia asks, lifting her chin to Mary.

  “He tried to rape me,” Mary says, clutching her torn shirt together.

  “She’s lying,” Sean says as he fights to free his arms.

  Cynthia tightens the grip. Mary sets her hands on her hips.

  “Oh, yeah? How did my shirt rip?”

  “That was an accident. All we did was kiss.”

  Jennifer flails her arms and legs to get at Sean while Julian holds her back.

  “I caught you,” Jennifer says with a vindictive grin on her face. “And this time there are witnesses. Try talking your way out of this one.”

  Sean lifts his head so he can see Julian.

  “My father knows the Chief of Police. This is entrapment. She set me up.”

  “Tell your lawyer all about it,” Julian says. “I’ll make sure you get your phone call.”

  “I know what’s going on here. You followed me all night, and this whole evening was a set up. I know my rights.”

  “Yep,” Cynthia says, cinching in the arm lock. “And I read you yours.”

  Mary cups her elbows with her hands, her forearms holding her torn shirt in place.

  “Mary, are you all right?” Julian asks.

  “He ripped my shirt, but the jerk didn’t get any farther than that. What will happen to him?”

  For a moment, Julian worries Mary will soften and not press charges. Then he catches the fiery glint in the girl’s eye. She wants blood.

  “Sean will have a lot of explaining to do in court. What’s important is Sean can’t do this to another girl.”

  Julian lifts his radio and calls dispatch. Officer Wolpert’s cruiser is a half-mile away and will arrive at the park in a minute. Jennifer’s struggles slow as Julian sets her down.

  “You through fighting?” Julian asks his step-daughter.

  “Only if this jerk gets what’s coming to him.”

  “Why did you run off and scare everyone to death? You re
alize the entire GCPD is searching for you? Which reminds me.”

  Julian lifts his radio and announces he located Jennifer.

  “How did you know I’d come here?” Jennifer asks, narrowing her eyes at Julian.

  Out of breath, Sean lies face down, his chest rising and falling as Cynthia pins him in place.

  “Cynthia saw you cross the street a block back,” Julian says, monitoring Sean.

  Jennifer pulls him aside and leans close so only Julian can hear.

  “No, I mean, how did you find Sean?”

  “Ah, elementary. I’ll show you in a second.”

  Cynthia slips handcuffs around Sean’s wrists. Together, Julian and Cynthia lift Sean off the ground and walk him to the pavilion as the lights from Officer Wolpert’s cruiser swirl into the parking lot. Two minutes later, Wolpert stops the vehicle beside the pavilion. As Cynthia and Wolpert place Sean in the backseat, Julian motions Jennifer toward the Porsche.

  “You better take care of my dad’s car,” Sean calls through the open door.

  Cynthia slams the door. She pats the hood, and Wolpert drives toward the GCPD with Sean handcuffed and shouting obscenities. Julian drops to the ground and retrieves the tracking device from Sean’s undercarriage. Jennifer grins.

  “This is between the three of us,” Julian says as he taps the tracker.

  “I won’t tell a soul,” says Cynthia, pantomiming as if she pulls a zipper across her lips.

  “Hey,” Jennifer says, gesturing at Julian’s injury. “You didn’t wince when you crawled beneath the car.”

  Julian scratches his head.

  “I didn’t?”

  “No,” Jennifer and Cynthia say in unison.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Either I’m finally healing, or the pain is inside my head.” He glances at Jennifer. “Give me your hand.”

  “Why?”

  Julian takes Jennifer’s hand in his and examines her knuckles.

  “That was quite a number you did on Sean’s face. I don’t see any bruising, but you better ice your knuckles when you get home. You gave him an MMA beat down.”

  “He got what he deserved.”

  “Yeah, well. Be prepared. His lawyer will argue you attacked him without provocation.”

  “Mary will back me up,” Jennifer says.

  “If you hadn’t arrived when you did, I wouldn’t have been able to fight him off,” Mary says, earning a hug from Jennifer.

  “From what I saw, you held your own. Sean’s lucky the police stopped us from knocking his lights out.”

  Julian grins at Jennifer’s boast. But worry pulls at him. How far would Jennifer have gone if Julian and Cynthia hadn’t broken up the fight?

  As he walks the girls back to Cynthia’s cruiser down the block, a voice comes over their radios. Smith Town PD requests that all available units respond to Meeker Road in Smith Town.

  “That must be Ketchum and Darcy,” Julian says, lowering his voice so the girls don’t eavesdrop. “They must have found the killer. I’ll take the girls to the station for processing.”

  Cynthia shakes her head.

  “You should be there, Julian. From what I witnessed in the park, you’re ready. I’ll take care of Jennifer and Mary.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Go. Darcy needs you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Saturday, September 19th

  7:35 p.m.

  The moon beams eerie light a mile from Tod McHugh’s house on Meeker Road, making the terrain appear frozen in perpetual winter. Darcy studies the killer’s property and searches the road. To take McHugh by surprise, they’ll park where he can’t see them from the window. Using an iPad, Agent Ketchum displays a satellite image of the house. Six uniformed police officers—four from Smith Town and two from Genoa Cove—circle Ketchum as he coordinates the raid. More units are on the way.

  “Remember, it’s probable McHugh keeps venomous spiders on property, and the funnel-web antivenom hasn’t arrived from Raleigh yet.”

  A Smith Town officer with a boyish face says, “We heard from Officer Kemper a half-hour ago. He’s due to arrive in Smith Town with the antivenom around eight o’clock.”

  “That’s probably too late. Have Kemper drive straight to McHugh’s address, not the station.”

  The Smith Town officer radios Kemper with instructions. Judging by the side glances, a lack of trust exists between the Smith Town and Genoa Cove police forces. Darcy guesses the departments haven’t coordinated in a long time. She points to a tree-covered hillock along Meeker Road, a terrain feature she recognizes from bicycle rides.

  “If we stop here, we’ll be a quarter-mile from McHugh’s property,” Darcy says, pointing at the satellite photo.

  Ketchum lifts the iPad so the officers in the back can see.

  “There’s a back door. We’ll run two teams, my team taking the front while…”

  He trails off when an unmarked sedan pulls to the curb. Before Ketchum can continue, Detective Pinder steps from the car and blows out his mustache.

  “Since when did the FBI take over my investigation?”

  “Ever since you stopped contributing to the case and refused to take my calls,” Ketchum says, holding Pinder’s icy stare until the detective looks away with a grunt. “You’re welcome to join us, Detective. But I don’t have the time or patience to wage border wars with you.”

  Pinder looks to the Smith Town officers for support and finds none. They don’t trust the corrupt detective. Ketchum returns to the plan while Pinder paces a groove in the road behind the officers. He keeps glaring at Darcy, a challenge in the detective’s eyes.

  Darcy’s phone buzzes with a received message. As the officers pile into their cruisers, she reads Julian’s message. Relief buckles her knees. Jennifer is safe, and Officer Wolpert took Sean Braden to the station in handcuffs. Darcy imagines the fire and brimstone Braden’s lawyer will rain upon Genoa Cove. Yet she can’t prevent the smile from spreading across her face. Sean got what he had coming to him. She’s about to pocket the phone when a second message arrives. Julian is on his way to assist the officers. Is he ready for field work? Julian won’t arrive before the rescue mission begins. But they’ll need every available officer if the plan backfires.

  Darcy slides into the SUV passenger seat and shuts the door. Silence overwhelms her. A desolate landscape spreads across the windshield.

  “You ready?” Ketchum asks, turning the ignition.

  Darcy swallows and nods.

  “We wouldn’t have found McHugh without you,” he says. “You’re the best profiler to come through the BAU in decades.”

  So why does ice water course through her blood? Her heart pounds, palms sweaty as if this is her first mission. Time stands still until they abandon their vehicles near McHugh’s property. Stepping down from the SUV, Darcy’s knees stiffen. She can’t see the officers’ faces as they move in silence. Water chuckles inside a ditch along the road. Though she’s biked Meeker Road in recent months, nothing appears familiar in the strange moonlight. It’s as if she’s viewing the landscape for the first time.

  McHugh’s house is a white one-story. Dirt and mold speckle dingy siding. A stone driveway leads to a detached garage.

  Darcy and Ketchum take the front door with the two Genoa Cove officers. Pinder accompanies the Smith Town police around the back. Lights shine from the front and back of the house, but nobody moves at the window. As Ketchum leads them across the yard, a Smith Town officer speaks over the radio.

  “Back window boarded up,” he says. “Appears to be a bedroom. There’s a light on inside.”

  Ketchum acknowledges the officer. Then he silences his radio. It’s time.

  He slips toward the door and listens. A woman shrieks inside the house. Two swift kicks to the weathered door, then Ketchum’s team busts inside. A cacophony of yelling echoes through the house as the Smith Town officers break through the back door.

  Inside a sparsely furnished living room, Darcy sweeps her gun from w
all to wall. Ketchum turns the corner into the hallway. A confusion of flashlight beams shift across the walls as the Smith Town PD enters the hallway from the opposite direction. Darcy worries about friendly fire before an agonized scream comes from behind a closed door.

  The door swings open. McHugh spins toward Darcy and Ketchum with alarm in his eyes. Fright turns to rage as he glares at the two agents who visited the high school.

  “Freeze. FBI!” Ketchum shouts. “Hands where I can see them.”

  McHugh swerves when he spots the second group of officers converging from behind.

  “He’s unarmed!” a Genoa Cove officer yells a moment before two gun blasts deafen Darcy’s ears.

  The shots drop McHugh in the hallway. He lies on his back and clutches two holes in his chest as blood wells between his fingers. The officers stare at Pinder. He shot McHugh despite the killer being unarmed.

  While a Smith Town officer kneels beside McHugh, Ketchum and Darcy spin into the bedroom. A horror show awaits them.

  Tanks of funnel-web spiders and tarantulas line one wall. A shattered tank glistens in the far corner, glass shards dotting the carpet. But it’s the woman on the floor that draws Darcy’s attention. Ali Haynes. A black spider crawls across Ali’s arm and scrambles toward the room’s center. Darcy recognizes the arachnid as a funnel-web. Ketchum stomps the spider as Darcy attends to the teacher. Ali stares at Darcy, her mouth frozen open in a pained rictus. Spittle drains off her lips and puddles on the floor.

  “She’s been bit,” Darcy says, her eyes searching the room for more spiders. “I need an ambulance. Where’s the officer with the antivenom?”

  “Just came over the radio,” someone says from the hallway. “He’s almost to Smith Town.”

  Darcy meets Ketchum’s eyes. They won’t get the antivenom in time. Ali Haynes seizes and grabs her chest. A choked cry emanates from her mouth.

  “Hold on, Ali,” Darcy says, holding the teacher’s hand as the officers clear McHugh’s house. “Help is on the way.”

  A humongous tarantula wiggles through the dislodged tank cover. Darcy has less than a second to read the tank—Goliath bird-eater tarantula—before a quick-thinking officer knocks the mammoth spider off its perch with a baton. With the tarantula safely inside the terrarium, the Smith Town officer secures the lid. He backs away from the enclosures, unable to pull his eyes from the arachnids.