As I pulled into my driveway and headed toward the front door, I heard my phone ring. I fished it out of my pocket and looked down at the caller ID. It was Ali. Her timing was impeccable. But knowing I had potentially made a new friend at Denim today made Ali’s absence a little less unbearable.
Although I didn’t want it to seem like I actually wanted to talk to her, I decided it was a reasonable sacrifice to at least answer the phone and let her hear how well I was doing.
“Hello,” I answered. The noise in the background made it impossible to hear her. “Hello?” I said again.
“Don’t do it, Lace—” Ali’s voice echoed too much for her mouth to be close to the receiver.
“Hello,” a deep voice said.
“Who is this?” But I already knew the answer.
“Tell me—did you ever find that black Jeep?” I could practically hear Keegan’s smirk grow into a grin as he taunted me.
“Where is she?” I demanded. I could hear scuffling in the background, and I pictured Ali trying to get out of whatever hold he had her in.
“If you want her, come get her…alone.”
Chapter Nineteen
With zero hesitation, I checked to make sure my gun was still in its holster and ran back to my car. I didn’t know exactly where I was supposed to go, but I had a pretty good idea. If Keegan was still playing his game, then he wanted to hunt his prey. And Ali was the perfect bait to lure me there.
As I sped toward Vantage Woods, I debated whether to call Bishop. If I called him, Bishop would have the entire department, including the FBI, behind him with guns blazing. And that was a sure way to get Ali killed. Keegan specifically said to come alone. So I was on my own—if I wanted both Ali and me to get out of this alive.
I remembered that Keegan’s lair had been discovered within the junkyard behind the gas station. Even if the site was already closed for demolition, I had a feeling that’s where Keegan wanted to start. If he was sticking with the same M.O., his plan would be to stash Ali in the junkyard overnight. Then, once the sun started to rise tomorrow morning, he would walk her to her car and drive her to one of the hiking trails. He would then tell her she was free to go—but once she was a few hundred feet away, Keegan would kill her. One shot to the head would be Ali’s fate if I couldn’t find her in time.
Ali’s fate, I said to myself. It would be the same as Tara’s. Just like the dream I had two months ago when Ali and I were still together. Instead of finding Tara’s body hidden in the woods, I found Ali’s. The possibility that my dream was about to become reality surged through my body, and I pressed harder on the gas pedal. The engine revved as I accelerated. I had to get to Ali. I knew I had to get to the junkyard, on the other side of Vantage Woods.
As I entered Vantage Woods, heading toward the gas station, I looked to the right where the Villa began. The Villagers had moved back in, and fires were already burning in the metal trash cans they used as grills and heaters. The sun was starting to set, but I was only a few miles south of the gas station.
I continued driving and saw a familiar red truck parked on the side of the road. I knew the truck belonged to Ali. But it didn’t make sense for her truck to be at the woods already. It should still be back in the junkyard. Keegan was more than twelve hours ahead of schedule. Perhaps he was racing against the clock himself.
It was strange that I hadn’t received a call from Bishop or anyone at the station letting me know that Keegan was no longer in custody. He must have subdued the transporting officers somehow—and those officers were likely dead. There was probably a statewide manhunt going on for Keegan right this minute, but I was technically off duty and didn’t want to turn on my police radio. I needed to do this alone.
I parked my car next to Ali’s truck, turned off the ignition, and checked my gun to make sure it was loaded. I reached into my glove box for my backup gun and placed it in my ankle holster. I set my cell phone to silent but pulled up Bishop’s name on my contact list and left it on the screen for easy access. I wasn’t going to chance calling him yet. But if I needed to, I wanted to have him available immediately. I took a deep breath, opened my car door, and stepped outside. The hunt had officially begun.
Looking down the road, I could no longer see the Villa in the distance. I was completely alone—with the exception of Ali and Keegan. But finding them wasn’t going to be easy. The sun had pretty much set already, and using a flashlight would make it easier for Keegan to know exactly where I was. But there was no doubt in my mind he was already watching me.
I walked over to Ali’s truck to touch the hood. If it was still warm, they hadn’t been here long. The more time Keegan had with Ali, the less likely I would find her alive. I tried to push those kinds of thoughts out of my mind. I had to stay positive. I had to remember my years of training and do whatever it took to get Ali back safely.
I felt the hood of her truck, which was the same temperature as the night air. Not a good sign. I peered into the woods alongside the road where both of our cars were parked. I looked to see if there were any footprints or broken branches to show which way they might’ve gone, but the trees were too dense to tell if anyone had slipped through them, and there wasn’t a trail in sight.
As my heart and head debated what to do next, I couldn’t help but wonder why I was here looking for her. I could have easily called the station to handle this. Why didn’t I? I realized this was more than the oath I took to serve and protect. Being here proved that I was still in love with Ali, even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself.
I walked through the trees and overgrown grass and entered Vantage Woods. With my gun drawn, ready to fire at any moment, I kept my left hand outward to shield my face from low-hanging branches. As my footsteps rustled the leaves on the ground, I positioned myself behind a thick tree for cover and looked around. I had to remember where I was in case I had to get back to the main road in a hurry.
As I walked another fifty feet forward, I noticed a clearing in the woods. A blanket of green grass covered the ground, and a brick shelter house stood in the center. It looked like it had been abandoned for more than a decade, which wasn’t uncommon. The Villagers had claimed most of the shelters as their own. So to prevent the park from being overrun by the Villagers, the city had closed down any shelters that weren’t near the main road.
I debated whether to approach the shelter. The trees provided enough coverage that it would be impossible to get a clean shot on me unless Keegan was standing right next to me. But leaving the woods to walk to the shelter would give Keegan a more open sight line. With the night sky on its way, the moon wasn’t powerful enough to guide me through the woods. I took a deep breath and decided to go to the shelter.
With my heart racing, I jogged toward the shelter, keeping both hands around the handle of my gun. I kept it low to my side and searched the surrounding area for any signs of Keegan. I got to the shelter door and noticed that, despite the city’s lock, the door had been pried open, probably by a crowbar or a similar object. The metal latch had rusted over the years, making it easy to manipulate.
I studied the dusty window next to the door. The window had bars across it, but that hadn’t stopped vandals from throwing rocks and breaking parts of the glass. I looked inside but could barely see into the huge room, which appeared mostly empty except for a few large metal utility boxes on the wall. This wasn’t a shelter. I was standing in front of the maintenance and supply building for the park. If Keegan was anywhere nearby, it would be here. This space could provide him with ample room and much-needed privacy.
As I stepped in front of the entrance of the building, I put my hand on the cold doorknob, turned it, and pushed the door slowly open. The hinges squeaked the wider I tried to open the door, so I quickly stepped inside and held the weight of the door until it gently closed behind me. I stood, frozen for a moment, catching my breath in the darkness, before deciding to continue on.
The room had cement walls with large fuse boxes attac
hed to the far wall. Shattered glass from the window crunched under my feet as I cautiously walked around the room, gun readied. Toward the far left corner of the space was a black metal door that matched the exterior door I had just opened. In the center of the doorway was a sticker that read WATCH YOUR STEP.
I opened the door and looked down the grated staircase that led into the basement. The emergency light was on, and it shined throughout the stairwell. There was no telling what was down there, but I had a pretty good idea who was down there.
Slowly, I walked down the staircase, which creaked with each step I took. I heard soft scuffling, like someone moving around.
“Ali?” I called once I reached the bottom step.
No response.
I looked around each corner of the room but only found a bunch of boxes, stacked on top of one another, plus some rusty metal trash bins that were no longer usable. The stairwell light stretched throughout the basement, making it well enough lit for me to see where I was going.
Behind some of the boxes in the far right corner of the room, I heard another scuffle, like someone trying to stand up. I raised my gun to eye level and aimed it at whatever was hiding behind the boxes.
“Detective Mills,” I shouted. “Come out where I can see you.”
No one came out.
I took a few steps toward the boxes, stated my name again, and instructed whoever it was to come out with their hands where I could see them. All of my commands were ignored. I had no choice but to walk closer to the stack of boxes to see who was behind there.
As I peered around the edge of a box, gun still drawn, I saw Ali lying in the fetal position, her hands and ankles bound. She had a few layers of duct tape over her mouth and an enormous bruise forming on her jaw.
I set my gun on the floor next to us and bent down to untie her wrists. With her hands free, she was able to tear the tape off her mouth.
“Are you okay?” I whispered as I wiped a tear from her cheek. “Where is he?”
Before she could utter a word, her eyes widened, her jaw fell open, and she let out an almost imperceptible whimper. I felt a shadow cast upon us, and I knew it was Keegan.
I reached for my gun and spun around to face him, but his fist landed hard against my left cheek. He knocked me and my gun several feet to the right, and I had to brace myself against the cinderblock wall to regain my balance. I looked around for my weapon, but it was nowhere in sight. I wasn’t going to allow Keegan to overpower me the same way he had in Ali’s garage. But when I turned to face him again, I saw that he had Ali in a tight hold.
As he stood behind her, his arms were wrapped around her arms and chest, but she was fighting to break his grasp. She managed to wrestle him toward the cinderblock next to me, and she placed her right foot on the wall at waist height. She pushed off the wall with all her might and sent Keegan and herself flying backward. While he fought for his balance, she was able to break from his hold. Suddenly, she punched him in the face—but his only response was to smile at her with utter, frightening malice. Then he shoved her, hard, with both of his hands. I gasped as I heard her head hit the wall. Her eyes closed as she fell to the ground.
I charged at Keegan, and he placed me in a bear hug, lifting me off the ground so that my feet were knee-level to him. I freed my hands from his control and placed my index finger and thumb around his Adam’s apple, squeezing until he let me go. As he lay on his stomach, gasping for air and wildly swinging his fists, I was able to grab his right forearm. I forcefully brought his arm behind his back and turned his hand outward. He shrieked in pain as he rolled over to face me.
With his free hand, he punched me in my rib cage, and I heard a sickening crack. As I screamed, I grabbed the left side of my body with my right hand. Every time I breathed in, it felt like a knife being jammed into my lungs. I stumbled backward and fell to the ground as my cell phone skidded across the concrete floor. I rolled onto my stomach and began to army-crawl toward it. I unlocked the screen; Bishop’s number was still there. I pressed “dial” and let out a sigh of relief when the phone started to ring.
With my right arm still outstretched toward my phone, I felt Keegan land on top of me and place his hands around my head. I maneuvered onto my back, looked into his eyes, and saw nothing but darkness staring back at me. With his hands around my throat, I began to shout Bishop’s name, hoping he had answered his phone. But with Keegan’s crushing grip around my windpipe, my screams for help came out no louder than a whisper.
I put both of my hands around Keegan’s pinky finger, lifted it from around my throat, and bent it backward until I heard it snap. He cried out in pain once more, momentarily removing his hands from throat. I lifted the lower half of my body with all my remaining strength and knocked Keegan off me, then kicked him in the face. He grabbed my left leg with his non-broken hand and began to pull me toward him.
As I struggled to break free, I brought my right knee toward me as far as I could then kicked the heel of my foot against his face—but he didn’t let go. I brought my knee up again, this time reaching under my pant cuff. I took the backup gun out of my ankle holster. But as I looked at Keegan, he had already reached for his hunting knife, which was clipped to the waist of his pants. He let go of my leg and raised the knife above my abdomen as he started to come toward me.
I pulled the trigger twice and saw splats of blood flick across his face. He stumbled backward, clutching his chest with his right hand and letting his hunting knife fall to the floor. He dropped to the ground, onto his back, and began to convulse as he choked on the blood coming out of his mouth. As I sat up, I held my right hand over the left side of my rib cage and kicked his knife out of his reach. He stopped breathing before I could pick up my phone.
As I half-crawled, half-walked over to Ali, I placed my index and middle finger on her throat and felt for a heartbeat. I sat at her side and counted the beats. I watched Keegan, making sure he was truly down for good, and I rested against the cinderblock behind me. I looked at Ali, whose chest rose up and down as her breathing maintained a slow but steady rhythm.
Within a few minutes, I heard shouting around the building outside. Too exhausted to call out, I waited until I heard footsteps above me. Then I reached for my phone and called Bishop again. He answered with a frantic hello.
“I got him,” I breathed into the phone. I could taste my own blood as it seeped out of the cut on my bottom lip. “We’re in the basement.” And I let the phone drop from my hand as the room went black.
Chapter Twenty
Six weeks after Keegan’s death, my ribs had started to heal enough that I was able to take a deep breath without wincing. I still had another two weeks of medical leave, but I decided to head into the station anyway. It was late October, and the officers were as busy as ever with Halloween vandals and run-of-the-mill break-ins around town.
Once at the station, I walked past my empty desk toward Bishop’s office. Next to his door was the once-vacant sergeant’s door that now had Braxton’s nameplate on it.
Bishop had his head down as he read over case files. I knocked twice to get his attention. He looked up and brightly smiled. As he motioned for me to come in, he stood from his desk and asked that I close the door behind me.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said as I approached his desk. “Have a seat.” He gestured toward the chair across from him. The last time I was in here, Bishop told me I had to take a leave of absence. “How’s the rib?” he asked.
“Getting better,” I replied.
“And Ali?”
“She’s been a big help,” I said. “I wouldn’t have managed around the house without her.”
“Good, good.” He smiled. Bishop was really supportive of Ali’s temporarily moving into my house while I healed. She already had her house packed and was ready to go back to Chicago. If Keegan hadn’t caught her by surprise while she was moving some small boxes into her truck, she’d be in Chicago right now—instead of helping me get dressed every mor
ning.
“How’s Braxton working out?” I asked, trying to make small talk. I felt a little out of place being there. It was the first time I’d been back to the station since going on medical leave, and I had to fight the urge to pick up a case file and start investigating the latest burglary.
“He’s good,” Bishop said curtly. “What brings you in?”
I looked around the room, hesitating to give him the answer. But he knew me well. He knew that my visit served a purpose—I just didn’t know if he had already figured it out.
“Well…” I finally said after a deep breath.
“Before you get into why you’re here,” Bishop said, “I just want you to know how happy I am that you’re okay. All of us are. You’re my daughter.” It was identical to the speech he had given me when I was transported from the maintenance building to the hospital. Bishop had ridden with me in the ambulance, and he’d ordered Braxton to ride along with Ali.
It wasn’t until I was out of the hospital that Bishop told me how Keegan escaped police custody. Although Keegan should have been a two-officer transport, he was escorted by a twenty-year veteran who thought he was fully capable of doing the transport himself. How wrong he was.
Once the officer was on an isolated road and out of radio range, Keegan coughed and clutched his throat as if he was choking. He was convincing enough that the officer pulled over and opened the back of the transport van to assist Keegan. When the officer unlatched the back door, Keegan kicked it open, smacking the officer in the face with the door. Keegan jumped out of the van, grabbed the unconscious officer’s keys, and drove off before anyone noticed.
When the officer came to, he ran to the closest phone and called the station. For whatever reason, Keegan spared the officer his life. Maybe he didn’t have time to kill the officer; or maybe Keegan wanted the thrill of having the cops chase him. Whatever the reason, Keegan took it with him to his grave.
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