by Todd Ritter
“Lightning just struck a transformer outside the Shop and Save.”
By that point in their friendship, Nick no longer bothered with actual greetings. He was in Kat’s office so much that it sometimes felt like he was another one of her deputies. When he wasn’t at the station or getting much-needed rest at the Sleepy Hollow Inn, he was at her house, cooking dinner, entertaining James, and watching whatever DVD Kat had picked out.
At the station, Lou and Carl ribbed her about the frequent visits. Lou even went so far as to ask Kat if she’d be wearing an engagement ring soon. Other people in town talked, too. In Perry Hollow, gossip was considered a recreational sport, and the current talk was that Chief Campbell was getting cozy with that handsome state police lieutenant.
The rumors and innuendo didn’t bother Kat, mostly because she knew they weren’t true. She had absolutely no romantic interest in Nick Donnelly, and he showed no signs of attraction to her. And although he used investigating the Grim Reaper killings as an excuse, Kat knew the real reason Nick came to town. Quite simply, he wanted a family. Kat and James were the sister and nephew he could never have.
“How bad is it?” Kat asked.
“Bad. But Carl was already there,” Nick said, his shoes squishing on the floor as he crossed the office. “And I saw a truck from the power company arriving as I was leaving.”
Kat reached for the windbreaker hanging on her wall. “I should check it out.”
“Before you go,” Nick said, “we need to talk about our taxidermist friend.”
“Caleb Fisher?”
“Yeah. I saw him at the grocery store and looked inside his pickup truck.”
“Accidentally or on purpose?”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Accidentally. Sort of. And there was rope, gloves, and a handkerchief inside. Plus, he was buying duct tape at the Shop and Save.”
“That’s it? Just tape?”
“He said he was preparing to close up the house for the winter. I’ve never owned a summer home, but I’m not sure why it needs rope and gloves.”
“You’re being too suspicious,” Kat said. “It’s not illegal to keep rope in your truck. Or gloves.”
“What about the handkerchief?”
Kat slipped into the windbreaker and zipped it to her chin. “We’ll talk about it later.”
On her way out the door, she stopped at Lou’s desk and asked the dispatcher if she could keep an eye on both James and Nick until she returned.
“I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
“I’ve heard that one before,” Lou said.
Kat moved steadily toward the door. Before opening it, she lifted the windbreaker’s hood over her head. Then, taking a deep breath, she pushed through the door and stepped into the storm.
Sprinting across the parking lot, she made it all the way into the Crown Vic before seeing Henry Goll. She had already started the car and was rolling out of the lot when Henry suddenly emerged in the torrent of rain. Seeing him created a bubble of fear that rose in Kat’s throat. Henry never visited unless he had a reason.
And on that evening, his reason for being there was a soggy piece of paper gripped in his hand. Kat rolled down her window as Henry approached and thrust the sheet at her.
“It’s another one,” he said.
Despite the page’s sodden state, Kat clearly saw the lone sentence typed across it.
Amber Lefferts, 16, of Perry Hollow, Pa., died at 6:30 P.M. on October 30.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Heart hammering in her chest, Kat again looked at Amber’s name. Then she looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was ten after six. If she wanted to save Amber’s life, she needed to hurry.
Flicking on the Crown Vic’s siren, she started to pull away. Henry trotted beside the car, waiting for instructions.
“Nick is inside,” Kat said. “Tell him what’s going on. And hurry.”
“Where are you going?”
Kat picked up speed, shaking Henry’s pursuit. She yelled her destination out the open window.
“Amber’s house. I can’t let this happen again.”
She was on her cell phone before she was even out of the parking lot. Steering with one hand, she dialed with the other. The result was a right turn so tight the Crown Vic scraped a fire hydrant on the way around the curb. Kat didn’t care. She needed to reach Amber immediately.
Once around the corner, she increased the car’s speed as the phone rang once.
“Pick up, Amber,” Kat muttered as it rang a second time. “Please pick up.”
She cut a sharp left and bumped down a narrow alley. For the sake of time, she wanted to avoid the town’s main streets. Even though they were far from clogged, the rain made for slow driving, especially during a power outage.
The phone rang a third time, its buzz cut short as Amber Lefferts finally answered.
“Chief Campbell? Is that you?”
Kat answered with a question of her own. “Where are you?”
“Home. Although the power is out.”
“It’s out everywhere. Are you alone?”
Amber paused, an uneasy silence that made Kat clutch both the phone and steering wheel with worry.
“Amber?” she said. “Are you alone?”
The girl’s response was a whisper. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone was just at the house,” Amber said. “They rang the doorbell and left something on the doorstep.”
“What did they leave?”
“A bird.”
The answer made Kat’s already racing heart speed up a few beats.
“It was dead,” Amber continued. “Why would someone do that?”
Kat was speeding down a side street now. Up ahead, a Cadillac idled at the curb. Its brake lights flared a moment as the Caddy started to pull out in front of her. Kat punched the gas pedal to the floor, trying to speed past.
She almost made it.
The Cadillac edged into the street as Kat flew by. And although the vehicles themselves missed each other, their side mirrors did not. The force of the collision slammed the mirror on the Crown Vic against the passenger side window. The Caddy’s twisted downward and dangled against the door.
Turning left again, Kat kept moving. She had to. Stopping was not an option.
“Are the doors locked?” she asked Amber.
“No.”
“Do it now. Lock, deadbolt, and chain.”
“Why?” Amber asked. “What’s going on?”
Kat barked into the phone. “Just do it! And don’t unlock it until I get there.”
“Why are you coming—”
Amber let the rest of the question remain unspoken. Kat did the same with the answer. Instead, she listened to a series of snaps, creaks, and jangles as the girl locked the front door. Finally, she said, “It’s him, isn’t it? The same person who killed Troy.”
“You’re safe inside,” Kat said. “That’s all that matters.”
She glanced at the speedometer. She was going fifty-five. She jacked up the speed, pushing sixty as she reached Main Street. The Crown Vic shot through traffic, crossing the thoroughfare at bullet speed. Vehicles in both directions came to a skidding, screeching halt. Her car clipped the rear bumper of a Volkswagen that couldn’t get out of the way. The bumper tore off as the Volkswagen slid into the path of an SUV heading north.
Kat heard the collision—a symphony of shattering glass and metal scraping against metal—but didn’t look back. She kept her eyes fixed on the road.
On the phone, Amber began to weep. Kat heard the girl’s choked breathing and muffled sobs. “I don’t want to die,” she said. “Please don’t let me die.”
“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Kat said. “I’m almost there. I’m a block away.”
She peered out the window, squinting to try to see past the rain and windshield wipers and darkness. The Lefferts’ house edged into view. Dark, just like every other home on the block.
&n
bsp; “I’m here,” she said. “Just hold tight until I get inside.”
“Hurry,” Amber said. “Please hurry.”
Then she screamed.
“Amber? Tell me what’s going on?”
The girl’s response bordered on the hysterical, high-pitched and unintelligible. Kat could make out one word—bird.
“A bird?”
“I just found another one,” Amber cried.
“Where? On the porch again?”
“No,” Amber said. “Inside. It’s inside the house.”
Kat brought the Crown Vic to a screeching halt in front of the Lefferts’ residence. Instead of parking at the curb, she steered the car over it, across the sidewalk and into the yard. Kat leaped from the car and bolted across the lawn. The phone was still gripped in her hand. Amber’s terrified voice blasted out of it.
“There’s more of them in the hallway. Oh God, they’re everywhere!”
Halfway across the lawn, Kat dropped the phone, grabbed her Glock, and shouted directly at the house. “I’m coming, Amber! Get out of the house!”
She hit the porch at full speed, not stopping until she collided with the front door. At her feet was the dead bird Amber had mentioned. A cardinal, it had been stuffed so full that it looked like it had swallowed a baseball. When Kat kicked it aside, sawdust spilled from its abdomen.
“Amber?” She tried the door. It was still locked. “Are you in there?”
Kat didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She didn’t breathe. Pressed tight against the door, she searched for the slightest noise from inside the house. It came a moment later.
“I’m here!” Amber yelled on the other side. “I’m still here!”
“The door is locked!” Kat yelled back. “I need you to open it!”
Through the barrier of the door, she heard Amber’s frantic footsteps in the hallway. They were followed by a sharp click. It was the lock, sliding loose. Next was a louder, stronger click. The deadbolt.
The door opened a crack. Amber was just on the other side, pressing her face in the gap between door and frame. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and her body vibrated with fear.
“Thank God you’re here,” she said. “I think he’s inside.”
She gasped suddenly, her eyes widening in shock. And then, so quickly that Kat could barely comprehend what was going on, Amber Lefferts was yanked backward and out of sight.
Kat shoved the door. It opened another inch before coming to a jarring stop. The chain. It was still in place.
On the other side of the door, Amber screamed. It echoed from deep inside the house before quickly, eerily cutting off. The interrupted cry told Kat everything she needed to know.
The killer was inside.
And he had Amber.
Shoving the door open as far as the chain would allow, Kat shouted, “I’m coming! Don’t worry!”
There was no response from Amber. Not even another scream. Rearing back on the porch, Kat rammed into the door, shoulder-first. She felt a momentary queasiness as pain pulsed through her body. Then the chain snapped free, letting the door fly open and smash against the wall behind it.
“Amber?” Kat yelled. “Where are you?”
The power came back on as soon as she entered the house. All the lights suddenly sprang into brightness, forcing Kat to squint. That’s when she saw the birds. There were four of them, jumbled together in a heap on the hallway floor.
“Amber? Answer if you can hear me!”
In the kitchen, the back door slammed shut. Kat raced toward it.
She stepped on a bird in the hallway. Her feet slid forward, jerking her legs out from under her. When Kat fell, the birds on the floor cushioned the blow. Lumpy balls of feathers, sawdust, and bone crushed under her spine.
Kat pushed herself off the floor and ran to the kitchen, not stopping until she reached the back door. Flinging it open, she scanned the back porch, seeing nothing. Beyond it was the backyard, a neighbor’s house, and the street, where a white van idled at the curb.
Kat had seen the van before. The white Ford with the words Awesome Blossoms painted across its side had eluded her for the better part of a year. It was Jasper Fox’s stolen delivery van, and now it sat just beyond the Lefferts’ backyard.
Before she was able to piece together why the van was there, it jerked to a start. Kat took off across the lawn after it, but it was too late. The van roared away from the curb, moving so fast she couldn’t get a glimpse of the driver through the rain-soaked windshield.
The killer was behind the wheel. Kat had no doubt about that. And Amber was inside the van, possibly dead already, being driven to a place where a homemade coffin waited just for her.
TWENTY-NINE
Henry rode shotgun with Nick. Because Kat had left too fast for them to keep up, they found the Lefferts’ residence by following the collateral damage left in her wake. A scrape of white paint on a fire hydrant guided them north. They turned left at the Cadillac askew in the road, missing a side mirror. The debris was worse on Main Street, where an SUV had collided with a Volkwagen. Three blocks later Henry spotted Kat’s patrol car sitting in the Lefferts’ front yard, still running.
Nick screeched to a stop at the curb on the other side of the street. Henry hopped out of the car and was immediately pummeled by the rain. It fell in huge, cold drops that stung when they hit his skin. Blinded by the deluge, he stumbled into the street.
He was halfway across when a white van appeared, careening around the corner. Caught in the van’s path, Henry froze. It bore down on him quickly, its grille a sneering mouth, its headlights as bright as dragon’s eyes.
“Henry, watch out!”
He heard a series of splashes on the asphalt, heavy and fast. Footsteps. A blur of darkness burst into view, coming from Henry’s right. It was Nick, sprinting toward him. The lieutenant tackled him, knocking the breath out of his lungs as they both tumbled into a puddle on the asphalt. Hot air, exhaust fumes, and a spray of oily water rushed over them as the van roared by, missing Henry by inches.
Nick wasn’t so lucky.
Scrambling to push Henry out of harm’s way, his right leg jutted into the street. The van’s tires bumped over it. It then increased its speed and shot through a stop sign at the end of the block.
In the road, Nick howled with pain. Struggling to sit up, he grabbed at his injured leg. His pants were torn at the knee, the shredded fabric revealing oozing blood littered with gravel and dirt.
More yells came from Amber’s house, where Henry saw Kat burst onto the porch.
“He has Amber!” she shouted as she ran to her car.
“We can’t lose it.”
It was Nick answering her, pushing himself off the ground with an agonized grunt.
Henry helped him stand, Nick putting all his weight on his uninjured leg. He wasn’t able to walk, so he lurched instead, dragging himself toward the car.
“We need to follow that van,” he said through gritted teeth. Although he seemed to be on the verge of passing out, he didn’t stop moving. He made it all the way to the car, every step causing a high-pitched wail.
“Henry,” he said, gasping. “You need to drive.”
Nick shoved him toward the driver’s side door. Within seconds, Henry was behind the wheel, strapping the seat belt across his chest. Nick sat beside him, body shaking, as water slid off his flushed face.
“Step on it,” he said.
Henry hadn’t been behind the wheel of a car in five years. Not since that terrible night. But as soon as he gripped the steering wheel, it all came back to him. Shifting the car into gear, he did what Nick had instructed.
In the rearview mirror, he saw Kat jump into her patrol car. She fishtailed in the soggy lawn, struggling to get traction. Henry had no such problem. The car careened down the street, leaving Kat behind.
Blasting down the street, Henry had one thing on his mind—catching up with the van. The quickly descending nightfall made it difficult to see. So did the
rain, which overwhelmed the wipers working at high speed.
“I don’t see it,” Henry said.
Nick seemed to have settled into his pain. His body trembled less as he craned his neck to search every side street they barreled past. He spoke in ragged breaths, forcing every word out of his mouth.
“Where were Troy and George found?”
“Old Mill Road and the lake, which is near it.”
“Go there.”
Henry steered the car through back alleys until they were at Oak Street.
“There it is!” Nick gripped Henry’s arm. “To the left!”
Henry cut the wheel sharply to the left. The van was now just ahead of them, moving quickly northward. They followed it, rumbling past the cemetery.
Not slowing, the van suddenly swiped to the right, tires jumping the curb as it turned onto a side road. Henry followed suit, taking the corner tight. The car skidded on the wet pavement, and for a moment he thought they might spin out of control. But he corrected the steering, held the car steady, and they rounded the turn unscathed.
The van next made a sudden left. Henry did, too, fanning out widely to avoid an oncoming Jeep. When the van veered right one more time, Henry stayed on its tail, realizing they were now on Old Mill Road, the vast expanse of Lake Squall to their left.
The road was wider and smoother than the ones in the heart of town, allowing the van to pick up speed. Henry kept his foot pressed on the gas. The car shimmied as the engine opened up. He peeked at the speedometer. Seventy and rising.
Henry realized he had been going that fast the last time he drove a car. He tried not to think about it. He needed to focus on the van and not the past. But memories snuck in, coming at him in quick, blinding flashes. The rain. The speedometer inching forward. The jackknifed truck getting closer. Gia’s screams.
“Christ, Henry, look out!”
At first, Henry thought it was his memory, sounding as loud as the present in his ears. Then he realized it was Nick, shouting in the here and now.
Henry’s gaze shot to the road in front of them, seeing what Nick was yelling about. A deer stood on spindly legs just beyond the road’s shoulder. Startled by the noise of the chase, it jumped out of the brush and into the van’s path.