No Ordinary Billionaire

by J. S. Scott

  Then, he trained his eyes on Sarah as long as he could until the metal door slammed closed, locked. He wasn’t worried about the lock. Someone had keys. His biggest concern was the fact that there were no windows in the door, no windows in the music room, no way to know what was happening inside.

  “Fuck! Call nine-one-one and get ahold of Chief Landon. Now!” Dante bellowed, the desperate sound bringing Jared and Grady to his side.

  “What are we reporting?” Elsie asked as she pulled a pink cell phone from her large purse and dialed.

  “Hostage situation. Three women with a psychotic lunatic. He has a nine-millimeter Smith and Wesson seventeen-round pistol. Tell them we need a hostage negotiator and a SWAT team.” Turning to Jared, he instructed, “Evacuate the building as fast and as quietly as possible. Have the seniors use the side door to exit the building. Jared, can you handle getting everybody out?”

  “Done,” Jared replied, already in motion to get people out of the building.

  “I have to find Emily,” Grady said desperately.

  “Grady!” Dante grabbed his brother by the arm. “She’s in there with Sarah. So is Randi.”

  Grady broke away from him and charged toward the door. Dante had to put his own brother in a headlock to stop him. “You can’t go in there. It’s locked, and doing anything to agitate him could get Emily killed. Think, goddammit! And screw your head on straight. Do you want her to die?” Dante held on to Grady until he stopped fighting against him. “I know exactly how you feel, but you have to pull it together for Emily.”

  “I love her,” Grady said, panicked. “She’s my whole life.”

  “Sarah has become my whole fucking life, too, and I know how you’re feeling. But you gotta think right now, Grady. Emily is being brave. She isn’t doing anything stupid. Calm the fuck down, and remember that his main target is Sarah.” Dante needed Grady to stop losing his mind. They didn’t have much time. He knew what John Thompson’s objective was—he wanted Sarah dead.

  “Okay,” Grady answered in a husky voice. “I got it. Let go.”

  Dante released Grady and they faced each other.

  “What do we do?” Grady asked in a calmer voice, but his eyes were still wild with worry.

  “We get our women back,” Dante replied, his voice filled with harsh determination. He was going to rescue Sarah, Randi, and Emily no matter what it took to get them out of there alive.

  He could see Jared herding people out the side door, and police officers came streaming in the main entrance, Joe Landon at the front of the pack.

  Everything was happening in his peripheral vision, but Dante was staring at the wall on the other side of the room to clear his mind, racking his brain for a plan that wouldn’t get the three women killed.

  Sarah shoved aside her panic, trying to think of a way to get Emily and Randi out of John’s control. After the door had closed, John had shoved the three of them into one of the far corners of the room, his body between them and escape. The pistol was still trained on her, but he moved it when he gestured, which was a whole lot when he was talking.

  “You have no idea what my life has been like since you sent the fucking police after me,” John whined. “Before you, I could use women and dispose of them, and nobody ever knew.”

  Dear God . . . is he saying what I think he’s saying?

  “Women back in Chicago?” Sarah questioned carefully.

  “It was just Chicago until you made me leave the city. Now it’s been Chicago, Boston, New York . . . I find the bitches, use them, and then get rid of them so they can’t talk. Nobody even suspected me, nobody ever knew. I was a family man with a wife and kid. I had a respectable job, and I was smarter than the cops. I made sure not a single one of those women stayed alive to talk,” John answered angrily, staring murderously at Sarah. “Until you,” he finished furiously.

  If a man or woman has the capability to murder, it’s already there.

  Dante had been right when he’d told her that. Trey had always told her that his father had a bad temper, but Sarah feared it was much more than that. John Thompson had killed while his wife and son were alive? They were his cover? That meant the murders had gone unsolved for quite some time. All of the victims had been women. Used?—probably meant raped and murdered. Suspicion crept into her brain and wouldn’t leave. She knew there hadn’t been another similar murder in Chicago since John had attacked her.

  Dear God, it can’t be him.

  She felt Emily squeeze her hand, and Sarah knew her friends were trying to suppress their own horror. John Thompson was a serial rapist and murderer, and had been way before she’d ever met his son, Trey. Sarah squeezed back, trying to encourage her friend to keep quiet. Emily was sitting in the middle, and Sarah knew Emily and Randi were probably having the same silent exchange.

  “You’re the Windy City Carver?” Sarah asked blandly, her stomach rolling as she realized exactly who was standing in front of her. The serial killer who had raped and killed so many women in Chicago had never been caught, and it had always been assumed that he was an opportunistic killer. He’d trolled for stranded female motorists or women walking alone at night.

  “That’s me,” John answered proudly. “I never left the cops any evidence that would identify me. I was smart. I used a condom when I used the bitches and always cut them up in my truck inside a plastic liner. Then I tossed the pieces into the water. Even if they had been able to find some kind of fiber evidence, I was a family man with no criminal record. They had nothing to match it with. I was never a suspect. And I never struck twice in the same area.” He pointed the gun in her direction. “You. Ruined. Everything. I didn’t have time to use you before I almost killed you, and I didn’t have my favorite carving knife. I had to use a worthless pocketknife because I hadn’t planned on wasting you that day. I saw you, and I wanted you dead for taking away my last bit of cover. You fucking deserved it. A guy with a wife and son was better, but I needed Trey because my bitch of a wife was already dead. Hiding in the stairwell was a last-minute decision, but all I had was a pocketknife. I knew it wasn’t going to be very satisfying, but seeing you bleed to death had to be enough. I could always find another bitch to carve after you were dead.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a knife, unsheathing the blade from its protective cover with a flick of his thumb, his face becoming that of a demonic killer.

  Pure evil.

  Sarah shuddered as she saw the lethal carving knife that had at least a seven-inch blade with jagged edges. The sight struck terror in her heart, but she tried not to show it, even when he waved the knife close to her throat.

  Think, Sarah, think. You can’t give in to fear right now.

  Somehow, she had to find a way to free Emily and Randi. If she had to use herself as bait and a victim, so be it. But she wasn’t watching her two friends die because of a situation she had created by moving here to Amesport. She’d brought trouble to them, and now she had to get them away from it. She hadn’t known just how deranged John Thompson really was, but she knew it now. He was a cold-blooded killer and always had been. She was a medical doctor, a woman used to seeing blood and gore. Still, the stories about how he’d carved some of his victims had made her stomach roll, imagining the terror those women had gone through before they died.

  “John, let Emily and Randi go,” she said calmly. “If you’re planning on raping me, you’ll have a difficult time of it with them here. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “I could just shoot them now,” John mused manically.

  “The police would break down the door if you shoot them, and if you try to attack one of us with a knife, the other two will fight you. Do you really want to risk losing the opportunity to kill me the way you’ve wanted to do for over a year? Think about it. You’ve waited a long time for this.” Sarah held her breath, praying he wouldn’t shoot her friends, but she didn’t think he would risk having the police rush in after the gunshots. He’d lose everything he had planned. H
er heart palpitated wildly while she waited for his decision. Bile rose in her throat from discussing her own rape and death, but she swallowed hard, knowing she had to do this for her friends. She’d deal with John and her own fate once Emily and Randi were safe.

  “If they go, they’ll open the door,” John said, starting to appear confused and hesitant.

  “Hold the gun to my head. The door will get closed and locked again.” Sarah couldn’t believe she’d just said that, but she was desperate to get her friends out of harm’s way. She’d offer her life up for her two innocent friends without hesitation if necessary.

  “Is this a trick? You’re a smart bitch,” John asked defensively.

  “No tricks. Just let them leave and we’ll be all alone.” The thought made Sarah’s skin crawl, but she kept her expression blank.

  John took the tip of the knife and ran it along her upper arm. “I can still see my work here.”

  “I have plenty of scars,” Sarah admitted.

  “They’re faded,” he commented unhappily. “Shitty knife.”

  “Let them go and you can do the job the way you want to this time,” Sarah urged calmly.

  Emily squeezed her hand again, this time in alarm. Sarah shot a sideways glance at Emily and Randi, and she saw a look of horror that neither one of them could hide.

  No fear. Don’t show him fear. Just get Randi and Emily out.

  Emily’s cell phone started to ring, startling all of them. The musical tone echoed through the room, and Emily turned frightened eyes to the killer. Sarah looked at John and observed, “It’s probably the police.”

  “Gimme the phone,” John told Emily nervously.

  Sarah watched as Emily dug into her front pocket, her hands shaking as she looked at the caller ID. “It’s Joe Landon, the chief of police.”

  John ripped the phone from Emily’s hand and pushed the “On” button. “Make one move and these women are all dead,” John yelled into the phone, agitated.

  Sarah didn’t know what Chief Landon was saying, but John wasn’t buying it. “Tell him you’re sending the other two women out,” Sarah suggested quietly.

  John hesitated, appearing to consider her suggestion before saying into the phone, “Two women are coming out. Try anything and I kill the fucking genius doctor. Got it, asshole?”

  Emily leaned against Sarah’s shoulder and whispered furiously, “We can’t leave you here, Sarah. He’ll kill you. We have to do something.”

  “No,” Sarah hissed, watching John as he engaged in a pointless rant with Joe over the phone. “Do this for Grady. Do it for Randi. It will be easier for them to attempt a rescue if it’s just me,” Sarah whispered quietly but fiercely. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if anyone would be able to rescue her, but it would be easier if the police only had to deal with one victim instead of three.

  Turning her head, Sarah noticed that Emily and Randi were both crying, silent tears streaming down both of their faces.

  “I can’t,” Emily said, keeping her voice soft. “It’s like leaving you for slaughter.”

  “No. You have to do this to help me,” Sarah replied in a hushed voice. “Please go and let the police handle the rest. It’s my best chance.” Really, Sarah didn’t think she was going to make it out of this room alive, but at least she’d know Emily and Randi were safe. “Let Dante know that I’ll keep him talking as long as possible. Tell him that John Thompson is the Windy City Carver, and that he’s killed in other cities after he attacked me and left Chicago. He’ll know the case.” The Windy City Carver case was probably one of the most famous murder cases in recent history, especially since there had never even been a suspect.

  Emily nodded reluctantly. “I’ll tell him.”

  “Move, bitches,” John screamed, frenzied. He hung up the phone and waved the gun toward Emily and Randi. “Move slowly toward the door and get your asses out. Make sure the door stays locked after you leave.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Sarah grasped Emily’s shirt and urged her up. Emily stumbled to her feet awkwardly, her eyes glued to Sarah as Randi got to her feet.

  “Go,” Sarah mouthed silently at Emily, who was momentarily blocking John’s view of her.

  John waved the gun at them. “Get the hell out.”

  Sarah’s expression remained blank as she watched Emily and Randi slowly walk to the door, both of them glancing back at Sarah with terror in their eyes. She’d be damned if she’d break now. Emily and Randi were almost out of the room.

  She watched her friends, silently urging them to move faster, eager to see them exit the room.

  Finally, Randi opened the door slowly and slipped out with a final distressed look at Sarah. Emily followed, her expression a silent apology as she met Sarah’s eyes. Sarah looked away as Emily hesitated, wanting her friend out the door. Emily had nothing to be sorry about; it was Sarah who had brought this filthy murderer to their town.

  A moment later, the door clicked shut, the ominous sound actually a comfort to Sarah.

  They’re safe. They’re out of danger.

  Her body relaxed as she accepted the inevitable for herself. She’d fight to the death now that Emily and Randi were safe, but even if she was fighting to stay alive for Dante, she wasn’t sure it would be enough. John Thompson was a madman, crazier than anyone had ever imagined.

  Think, Sarah, think. What good is being a damn genius if you can’t save yourself now?

  She turned back to John and started talking.

  CHAPTER 16

  The two women came out the door hesitantly, Emily spotting Grady almost immediately and throwing herself into his arms. Randi was caught up by a uniformed police officer and comforted as he spirited her away from the door.

  Joe Landon stood next to Dante. He wiped his sweaty brow as he said, “Thank God. Two of them are safe. Hostage negotiators and the SWAT team are en route now. It’s going to take another fifteen minutes or so. There’s nobody local. I can act as the negotiator, but the bastard doesn’t seem to want anything other than for us to back off. He’s not making any demands.”

  Emily pulled herself from Grady’s fierce embrace and grasped Dante’s arm, still panicked. “She doesn’t have fifteen minutes. He’s going to rape her and then kill her with a huge knife. He’s not who you think. There’s some Windy City Carver who raped and killed women in Chicago, and then he killed more women while he was on the run. He’s not an enraged father or husband like we thought. He’s a psychotic rapist and murderer. He’s angry because Sarah blew his cover when he tried to kill her after his son died. He isn’t just holding her hostage. He wants her to die.”

  The Windy City Carver? Impossible.

  Hell, there wasn’t a police officer in the country who didn’t know about the Carver. Still an unsolved mystery in Chicago, the bastard had been responsible for the rape and murder of over a dozen women in the past decade. “Are you sure?” Dante asked Emily urgently, not wanting to believe that Sarah was the prisoner of an insane sociopath like the Carver. But strangely, gut instinct was screaming at him that Emily was speaking the truth. There hadn’t been a Carver victim in Chicago for quite some time, and the intervals between killings were usually pretty much the same. Once he’d stopped killing for much longer than he usually did, many had assumed that he’d died or fled.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Emily sobbed. “When Sarah confronted him, he admitted it. Dante, she set herself up as bait, telling John Thompson he could rape and kill her easier if we were let go. She knows she’ll never get out of there alive. We have to do something. She said to tell you that she’d keep him talking as long as possible. But he’s not going to wait very long. He’s too nervous.”

  “We have to wait for backup,” Joe said firmly.

  Wait for backup. Wait for backup. Wait for backup.

  In a perfect scenario, waiting for backup was protocol. But this wasn’t really a hostage situation, and Sarah had no time. Waiting for backup was exactly what Dante and Patrick had been doing when his best frie
nd had been killed, and waiting for backup hadn’t worked out well for his partner. Dante had been trying to formulate a plan, but Joe had told him that they had to wait for SWAT to arrive. Granted, they had heavier armor, but it wasn’t going to do Sarah any good if she was already dead. Thompson was the goddamn Carver, and unstable as hell. If Emily said they were out of time, she meant it.

  Fuck that! I’ll go it alone. Sarah’s not dying because we’re waiting for backup.

  He shook off Emily’s hold and walked out the main entrance without looking back. There was no way he was waiting another goddamn minute. If Joe felt he needed to wait for backup, then Dante was on his own.

  The Windy City Carver.

  A cold chill flooded Dante’s body as he moved around to the side of the building. The Carver was one sick bastard and left his victims in nothing but pieces. Dante couldn’t stand the thought of anyone touching Sarah, much less her being in the same room as that sick, twisted bastard.

  A cloud of red was starting to form over his vision, but he pushed it back. Right now he needed to be as cold and calculating as the killer inside the building with Sarah.

  He and Joe had assumed that John had been lying in wait somewhere, but Dante had checked the room before he brought Sarah in. Granted, maybe somehow he could have missed some small hiding place, but his gut instinct was telling him something different, that there was a point of access they didn’t know about. He’d checked every damn inch of that area.

  He drew his Glock as he approached the area outside where Sarah was being held, immediately noticing the high window with broken glass, a space that would be damn hard to get his big body through. That window had been the point of entry. It was high, and the window was small, but the asshole had somehow managed to break the window and gain entry to the tiny bathroom attached to the room where Sarah had been playing. Most likely, Sarah’s music had drowned out the sound of breaking glass, and after that it had just been a matter of waiting for his opportunity.