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“I want to come.” His eyes closed as a terrible pleasure pain shook him. The loss…he knew he’d suffered one. Four would have called had she been able. At the same time the sweetest of all his items was likely very close by. “Please come get us. It’s not too late.”
The lies the woman could tell without blinking an eyelash. He’d never broken her of it, though he’d been harsher with her than with any of the rest. But he would, he vowed. There were other ways. “Soon.”
He disconnected. Methodically took off the back of the phone and removed the battery. Like an automaton he started the van. Executed a three point turn and drove back the way he’d come.
When he got to the bridge he stopped and got out, hurling the phone and battery into the water below. Then he gripped the railing with both hands and let loose the scream of grief and rage that would no longer be contained.
10
Jude looked at Mia with grim concern. She was huddled in the passenger seat, her arms clasped tightly around her middle as if to keep herself from flying to pieces. Although likely he was underestimating her. He had a habit of doing that.
When the state police investigators had come up with the farce they’d wanted her to take part in, he’d been vehemently opposed. After taking their sweet time tracking Mia’s location, they’d picked a bad time to play Super Cop. But Mia had agreed. Of course she had. And now she was paying the price for it.
“You cold?”
She shook her head, the way she had the last two times he’d asked her. He’d never been drawn to emotional females, but a little falling apart right now would be preferable to her rigid control.
“He won’t come.”
Headlights approached in the oncoming lane, spearing through the darkness. Jude took his gaze off them to look at her. “The police think it’s possible…”
“…that he’ll wait until he thinks it’s safe and then appear. He won’t.” Her brittle tone told him how tightly she was holding her emotions in check. “He knew. That’s why he didn’t call, because he already sensed the danger to him. He’s got animal instincts. Maybe that’s how he’s survived all these years. Flourished. Free to pick and choose victims at whim.”
“Think about this.” The lights of Morgantown winked in the distance. “No one has ever heard his voice before except for his victims. Now they have it recorded.”
“Right. And it sounds like Eeyore.”
The man they were seeking was cautious. He’d turned on an electronic alteration app before calling. “The recording can still be examined by a forensic linguist. You’d be surprised by what they can discover about word use, vowel patterns, and intonation.”
Finally he’d sparked some interest. She turned toward him. “Even if the voice is altered?”
“An aural spectrograph can be used for voice analysis. I know they can match voices even if someone deliberately tries to change their accent, pitch or tone. What they can do with an electronic alteration is a question for Raiker.”
She digested that for a few minutes. “So now all we have to do is find them the subject to match it to.”
He gave a mental headshake. They should be talking about something else—anything else—to avoid her reliving the events of the day. Yet here she was, still on point. “We may have picked up a lead. I’ve got Logan, one of my techs, running an identification on the TASER confetti.” Sensing her confusion he explained about the AFID process, without going in to the need for a breach of the database. Some people were high-minded about such things. “With any luck he’ll soon have the name of the person the weapon was registered to. Owners have to go through background checks. It’s highly unlikely Four would have done so.”
“As careful as The Collector has been, I doubt he’d chance having his name registered either.” Interest had sparked her voice and the sound of it was satisfying, despite the topic. Anything to jar her out of the cocoon of misery she’d seemed encased in earlier.
“It’s possible.” He slowed down as he entered town, watching for a hotel with a restaurant. He hadn’t eaten all day. She wouldn’t have either. “Weapons represent power and if there’s one thing this guy seems to be into, it’s power and control. He has to make a mistake sometime. Everyone slips up eventually.”
She said nothing to that. Her silence lasted the whole time he spent choosing a hotel. Continued while he gathered their bags that he’d retrieved from the parking lot this morning and while she accompanied him inside to get a room. She hadn’t blinked when he’d gotten only one double, citing concern for her protection. But when he ordered food, she finally roused to life. “A ham sandwich. Lots of cheese. And fries with a caffeine free Diet Coke.”
“Double it,” Jude told the front desk clerk. “Except bring me a Coors Light.”
“The restaurant and bar are right down the hall, sir,” the young man started.
“But you’ll place our order for us.” It hadn’t escaped Jude’s notice that Mia was swaying slightly on her feet. “And have it delivered for us.”
A moment’s hesitation. Then, “Yes, of course.”
“Thanks.” He led Mia to their second floor room. Ushered her inside it. It was a medium priced motel, but the room was luxurious compared to the one she’d chosen last night. She’d looked out of place in the slightly shabby room he’d found her in. Even if he hadn’t known about her privileged upbringing, she had an air of refinement that was difficult to miss. Coupled with her gut-wrenching looks and kiss-my-ass cheekbones, she’d looked right at home in some fancy lunchroom eating rabbit food and sipping expensive tea.
But he’d made the mistake of judging her based on her looks and background on more than one occasion. Jude would never make that mistake again.
He caught the longing look she threw toward the bathroom. “You’ve got plenty of time for a shower before the food arrives.” He set his duffel bag and her backpack next to the wardrobe. She carried her purse. Was worrying the strap with nervous fingers.
“Maybe later.” The cause of her reluctance was clear.
“I’m going to step outside.” He made the decision without forethought. “I want to get a look at the set up of the floor. Exits. Windows.” He had a pretty good blueprint in mind just from observation on the way up, but it was a decent idea anyway. And would remove him from the room for as long as she needed.
The relief in her expression would be hard to miss. “I’ll lock and latch the door.”
Jude lingered in the task, giving her nearly a half hour. When he saw the server arrive with their food he returned, and waited for Mia to unlock the door so he could bring it inside.
She was barefoot, but otherwise fully dressed in a tee shirt and jeans, her hair dried. Following him to the table in the corner of the room, she snatched the cover off one of the plates on the tray. “I haven’t thought about food all day but you mentioning it triggered my appetite. I’m starved.”
They ate in companionable silence for a while. When he’d finished his fries and attempted a stealth attack on hers, she slapped his fingers away. “I’m territorial about my food.” But there was a smile on her lips when she said it. “Too used to having to ration it, maybe. We were never sure how long it would be before he came back. Occasionally it was a few days or more.”
The identity of the he she referred to was all too clear. “How did he store it?”
“We had places for it in our cells.” She ate quickly and efficiently. “He called them that, but there weren’t bars. The back of each was stone, the sides, front and top charged wire. You got a heck of a jolt if you touched one. Although not as bad as the stunner Four used today. Anyway there was always bottled water. The food was packaged in plastic bags. There used to be a plastic trough bolted to the stone wall to hold the food in each cell. I broke it once. Thought I could use a jagged piece as a weapon.” She chewed reflectively. “That cost me an extra week at boot camp for retraining.”
The reference to what she’d endured made it suddenly difficul
t to swallow. Jude reached for his beer. Took a gulp. It did nothing to alleviate the sudden burn in his chest. “Did others fight him the way you did?”
“Some. At least at first.” Her voice turned pensive. “In time, enough abuse will cow anyone. Others turned vicious, although none were as bad as Four. Most would immediately rat you out for the slightest transgression as soon as he reappeared. Which was unnecessary, since the cameras caught a lot of it. But Eight never did. Not even when we were both allowed to paint once and I used my time to figure out how to pick the lock on the door of the room where he kept the discipline tools. The paintbrush had this little wooden piece down by the bristles. It was held on by bits of wire and I’d pried one off. After I discovered I could get the discipline room door open, I hid the wire in my cell. In case I ever got a chance to try again on the main door.”
“Hard to believe he ever let his captives out of the cells when he couldn’t control their movements.”
“He didn’t. Not during showers, exercise time or any earned free time. We wore shackles on our wrists and ankles. Fur lined of course.” A note of bitterness tinged the words. “No marks to mar the items of his collection. The only time we weren’t chained was when we were in our spaces…”
…or when he was sexually assaulting them in a group. She didn’t need to finish the thought. She’d already revealed once how she’d happened to be free to attempt her escape. Talons of fury for what she’d experienced raked through his system. And a half acknowledged realization actualized in his mind. He wasn’t law enforcement. He’d never been above operating slightly outside legal boundaries when he needed to acquire information.
And he sure as hell wasn’t going to waste any time worrying about legal niceties while he searched for the evidence needed to bring her former captor to justice.
The fully formed thought had him freezing in the act of bringing the beer to his lips. He wasn’t sure when it had occurred, but there it was, along with a map of the steps he was going to take toward that end. Raiker kept talking about the connections they needed between the corpse in the mineshaft and Mia’s case. Jude could find them. He wasn’t an investigator, but he had skills of his own.
What he was considering was far afield from the services his business offered. But this was no longer about a job. He flicked Mia a glance over the top of the bottle he held. She caught his gaze, smiling as she deliberately bit into the last French fry.
And if he hadn’t realized it before, he finally recognized just how much trouble he was in here. His famed objectivity was shot to hell when it came to her. And he wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it.
Brooding over the rest of the beer, he considered the problem. Decided how to broach it. “I’m going to track down the owner of the TASER myself,” he finally stated baldly. “I’ll give the information to law enforcement. At some point.” Right now the cops would be interested in the detail only as it pertained to Mia’s kidnapping today. They had nothing on which to base a broader scope of investigation. So he’d get it for them. “But first I’m going to take a run at him, after doing a background check to discover exactly what I’m dealing with.”
Her smoke gray eyes widened a little. “Good. I’ll come with you.”
He set the bottle down with more force than necessary. “No. You won’t.”
“Okay.” She picked up the remainder of the sandwich and nibbled on it. “I’ll follow you then.”
“Mia.”
“Jude.”
A part of him was distracted by the sound of his name on her lips. He could count on one hand the number of times she’d said it. But he wasn’t a hormone-driven teenager panting over the prom queen. It wouldn’t deter him. “We have to keep you safe. That’s more important now than ever. You heard what that scumbag said to you on the phone tonight. He’s still coming after you.”
Watching the way her creamy complexion paled was a kick in the gut. But he wasn’t above using whatever tool necessary for her security. “I have to know you’re protected in order to do my job. I’ll personally update you daily so you’re kept abreast of developments. You can even pick your own protection detail. You already know most of them.”
“Okay.” She piled her plate back on the tray. “I pick you.”
“That isn’t an option.”
Leaning forward, her gaze caught his. Battled with it. “Here’s the thing. I’m no longer your client. My check effectively ended our arrangement. You can’t keep me from doing anything I want, and I am not going to be kept a silent bystander while others fight this battle on my behalf.” Her mouth twisted. “That hasn’t exactly worked out in the past. I can hire another investigator. One who can track your movements if I’m unable to. One who will be paid well enough not to care if I accompany her. But I won’t be updated every day. I’ll be there.”
A thread of pleading entered her tone. “Believe me, I don’t want to get anywhere near him on my own. This isn’t like confronting Four. I wasn’t terrified of her. But I’m no longer going to be a spectator in my own life. If we get close…there might be something familiar. Something that triggers a memory. A landmark, a sound that points us toward the location where those women are being kept. You need me there.”
Everything inside him rejected her assertion. He needed her safe. And given the events of the day he’d already failed her once. “I can’t follow leads and tend to your protection at the same time.” When faced with a losing argument, use reason. “Neither of us can afford for me to splinter my focus.”
She appeared to give his words serious consideration. “You’re right. So you’ll have to bring along another operative to stay with me while you’re following those leads. I’m fine with whoever you choose.”
Getting up from the table, she walked over to one of the beds. Arranged the pillows and sat down to prop herself against it. As if the discussion was closed. As if she’d left him with no alternative.
Temper simmering, he went to grab his duffel and took it in the bathroom. Shut the door. There was always an alternative. He’d had recalcitrant clients before, although as she’d pointed out earlier she wasn’t technically a client anymore. He stripped, started the shower and stepped in. His first choice when faced with a lack of cooperation had always been logic. But he’d resorted to using fear tactics with some to keep them in line. There had been one or two so impossible that he’d been driven to terminate the contract.
And none of those options applied here. Mia was plenty logical; he just didn’t agree with her line of reasoning. And she didn’t scare. Or she did, he corrected himself, rinsing the shampoo from his hair. But the woman had more guts than most people he’d met. Fear wasn’t a deterrent. The hell of it was he even respected that on some level. When the worst has already happened, a person could curl up or fight. They were both fighters. But it wouldn’t do him any good at all to focus on the similarities between them.
He turned the issue over in his mind while he turned the shower off. Stepped out to drag a towel over his dripping body. There had to be a way for both of them to get what they wanted. But in the time it took to brush his teeth, pull on jeans and stalk out of the bathroom, nothing had occurred.
She was still sitting in the same position, hands locked in her lap. At some point she’d gotten up to plug in her phone. It sat on the table between the two beds. The TV was on but she didn’t seem to be paying attention to it. “I’m sorry.” They were the last words he’d expected. The last that he wanted, short of a total capitulation of their earlier argument. “Not for insisting on going with you tomorrow. But because I didn’t thank you for coming after me today. For finding us. I knew you would, if you were able to after her attack. It helped…knowing that. I’m not used to depending on others.” A smile flitted across her lips. Was gone in the next moment. “Guess I’m not very good at it.”
How was it possible to be angry with a woman and be disarmed by her at the same time? It was like a sneaky one-two punch. It was impossible to be unaffect
ed when he recognized the utter earnestness in the sentiment. He continued past her, then closed his eyes a brief moment. Struggled to find an even keel. “You’re welcome.”
Sitting down on his bed, he plugged in his own phone, after first checking for messages. As a distraction it was only partially successful. Jude was too aware of her presence behind him. Could feel her gaze arrowing into his back.
“I think when you talk to the owner of the TASER you should take my mini-tape recorder along and record his voice. It could be sent to Raiker. Maybe his scientists will be able to match it to the recording from the call tonight.”
It was maddening to discover her thoughts ran so exactly parallel to his. “I don’t need the recorder. There’s a recording app you can get for your phone.” He put his cell down and yanked the covers back on his bed. Got in it.
“There is? Then why did that clerk sell me both without telling me that? Jerk.”
Any other time her annoyance would have amused him. Now, however, it would be a lot easier to regain his equilibrium if he could forget she was there in the room with him. He turned his back toward her. Tried to get comfortable for what he already knew was going to be a very long night.
“Before you send the recording, I want to listen to it first.” Every muscle in his body tensed. Because of course he knew what she had in mind. She stated her intent a moment later. “I won’t need a spectrograph. I’ll recognize his voice, I’m sure of it.”
This time her name was gritted from between clenched teeth. “Mia.” He didn’t continue. He couldn’t. The tangle in his chest made it impossible to articulate his conflicting emotions. If it were just frustration he felt, there wouldn’t be an issue. But he needed time and distance to regain his usual control. She gave him neither.
“What? You don’t have to hold back whatever you’re feeling. I know you’re angry.”
He propped himself up on one elbow and turned to look at her. She was kick-in-the-gut lovely. Completely exasperating. And he’d never found that combination irresistible before. She ignited something in him that was usually carefully guarded.