by Cynthia Eden
“The agent is with you, isn’t he? Josh Duvane. He finds my bodies. He brings them to the surface. Duvane...do you think you can find me?” Laughter drifted to them. “But then, you’ve already been looking, haven’t you? Looking, but not finding. I’ve been right there, and you couldn’t catch me.”
“I could shoot you, though,” Josh growled. “I’m the one who did that. Not Casey. Not Katrina. So if you want to hurt someone, why don’t you try me? Or do you just enjoy targeting the people who you think are weaker than you? What kind of man gets off on torturing women, anyway?”
Silence.
Casey’s eyes had widened. She knew Josh was deliberately taunting the guy. Trying to pull his focus so that the perp would take out his rage on Josh.
“You think you can face me?” The caller’s rasp was even rougher. “Come on, try, FBI Agent. Come face me. You take me down and the woman can go.”
Where was he?
“I’m up high,” the guy continued. “I can see for miles. My light is shining. I’ll see you coming. If you bring someone else with you,if you bring backup, I’ll know. Just you and me, Agent Duvane. You come alone, you face me and maybe I’ll let both of the women go. Or maybe...maybe you’ll be the one who dies.”
Casey shook her head. She mouthed no, but Josh said, “The lighthouse. That’s where you are, right, you SOB? Up high, with your light shining...you’re at the old lighthouse out near the jetties. The place was supposed to be condemned.”
The caller laughed. “I think I’ll get started. Katrina has some secrets to share.”
A woman screamed.
The call ended.
Goose bumps had risen on Casey’s arms. “No. You can’t go in alone.”
He was checking his weapon.
She wanted to shake him. “He’ll kill you. They’ll kill you. We know he has a partner. He could just be waiting to shoot you on sight. Then he’ll kill you and Katrina.” Her voice was rising. “You can’t follow his orders!”
He gave her a grim smile. “You really think I’d play by his rules?”
She hoped to God not.
“Tucker and I will handle him. He’ll never see Tucker coming. Hayden Black will have our backs—that guy knows how to go in undetected. I’m not fool enough to go in that place alone, not knowing there are two of them out there. He has a partner, so I’ll have two partners.” He nodded grimly. “This is ending tonight. He wants a final face-off. That’s why he’s calling. The guy is breaking apart, and I’m going to be there when he shatters into a million pieces.”
That didn’t sound good.
“You stay here,” Josh told her gruffly. “This place is secure. You’re safe. The building has a security guard stationed below and Hayden sent Finn over to stand watch downstairs a bit earlier. I’ll get him to come up here.”
“I don’t need guarding. You do. Katrina does. Don’t worry about me!”
But he stared into her eyes. “I’ll always worry about you.” His hand rose and touched her cheek. “I’ve still got my laptop set to receive the security feeds from the building. You can see everything that’s happening outside this penthouse.”
“I’ll be fine.”
A muscle jerked in his jaw. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
She locked her hand tightly around his. “Be careful. You’d better not have so much as a single new scratch on you when you get back.”
His slow smile flashed. “Sweetheart, you keep talking like that, and I’ll think you care.”
She didn’t smile back. “I do care, Josh. I care a whole lot...because I think I’m falling for you.”
Shock flashed on his face.
“So come back to me. Come back safe.” She kissed him. Come back safe.
* * *
JOSH RUSHED FROM the elevator, his phone at his ear. “Yes, yes, Tucker, we’re closing in on him. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He hung up and waved to the deputy who’d been stationed in the lobby. “Finn, Casey is still upstairs. Go up there and make sure she stays secure, got it? Keep watch up there and don’t let anyone else in the penthouse.”
Finn nodded. “Got it.”
Casey’s words rang through Josh’s mind as he hurried out toward the SUV that waited. Good thing he had a backup rental vehicle, especially considering that his motorcycle had been totaled. I care a whole lot...because I think I’m falling for you.
He jumped into the vehicle, cranked the engine and shoved the gear into Reverse. He wanted this threat to Casey eliminated. He wanted to find Katrina alive. This time, things were going to be different.
This time, the victim had a chance. And he was going to fight with every bit of his power to make sure that the perps out there—the two sadistic perps who’d killed three women in that town—were stopped.
* * *
FINN ROLLED BACK his shoulders as he rode the elevator up to the penthouse. He wouldn’t screw this up. Casey’s safety would come first to him. He’d prove that he was good at his job. No more screwups.
The elevator opened.
A man stood near the door to the penthouse, bent over the lock. What in the hell?
Finn’s hand immediately went to his holster, but the guy was whirling around, alerted by the ding of the elevator doors.
Light glinted off the man’s glasses and his face flashed with relief when he saw Finn. “Thank goodness you’re here, Deputy! I heard Casey scream.”
What? Finn recognized Casey’s producer, Tom.
“She called me—said Agent Duvane had to leave and for me to come over right away.”
Finn had been downstairs, checking the guests who came back to the condominium with the security guard who’d been stationed there. He didn’t remember seeing Tom come through the check-in. And Josh had just left...
“I got here—I heard her scream.” Tom’s eyes were bulging behind the glasses. “I think she’s hurt in there—I think...I think that freak has her! He lured Josh away and now he has Casey.” He pounded on the door. “We have to get to her! She’s in trouble! Do you have a key?”
Finn’s fingers still hovered over his gun.
“She needs help, damn it! We have to help her!”
He hesitated. Josh had just left. How had Tom gotten up to the penthouse so quickly?
* * *
CASEY HURRIED OUT of the bedroom. After Josh had left, she’d gone to dress as quickly as she could. There was no way she’d just hang around in a sheet while she waited to find out what was going to happen next. He’d taken her phone with him, just in case the perp called again, and she felt lost as she rushed back into the den and checked the security feed.
Finn. Tom.
Her lips parted. They were both right outside the front door. Had Finn brought Tom up? How had Tom gotten there so quickly? She turned for the door even as she heard someone pound against the wood. “I’m coming!” Casey yelled. She hurried forward. Her fingers curled around the lock. She fumbled, opening it quickly. She yanked the door open. “Tom!” Her breath heaved out as both men whirled toward her. “The killer has Katrina! But Josh is going to get her—she’ll be okay.” I hope. I hope she’s okay. She has to be okay.
He nodded. “I—I know.” He smiled at her. There was something about that smile...
How did he know?
Tom’s hand whipped up—only it didn’t come at her. He drove his hand right toward Finn’s chest. His hand—and the knife that he’d gripped in his fist. The blade sank into Finn’s body and a choked gasp broke from the deputy.
“Finn!” Casey slammed into Tom, knocking him back. Finn staggered, then his knees seemed to give way as he fell to the floor, the knife still in his chest. “Finn!”
But Tom grabbed her from behind, yanking her up against him. “Don’t worry, love. I’ve got another knife
for you.” And he pulled her back into the penthouse, slamming the door shut behind them.
Locking her inside...with him.
Chapter Fourteen
Josh pulled on his bulletproof vest. He and Tucker were in the shadows, well away from the lighthouse. The spotlight was on at that place, blazing out, circling into the water, but as far as he knew, the lighthouse should have been shut down.
“Who’s been paying the power bill?” he muttered.
“Hayden checked on it—nothing is shut down here for another month.” Tucker had his vest in place. His voice was guarded, and he seemed...oddly hesitant as he stood in the darkness. They were far enough away from the lighthouse that any watchers up there wouldn’t see them, not yet. “It feels like another game.”
“It is a game—one that has a woman’s life as the prize.”
Hayden slipped from the darkness and closed in on them. “I scouted the area. There’s one car near the lighthouse.” His voice was a gruff rumble. “I know that car—it belongs to Kurt Anderson.”
Hell.
“You go in first,” Tucker said to Josh even as he checked his own weapon. “I’ll be right behind you.”
“I’ll have lookout,” Hayden added. “I’ve got my night-vision gear ready. We’ll be ahead of every move these guys make.”
Josh hoped so. He stuck to cover as much as he could, moving quickly toward the lighthouse. When he neared the car—Kurt’s car—he paused a moment and put his hand on the hood.
Cold. The guy had been there awhile.
Josh slipped inside—the front door was partially ajar. The place smelled old, stale. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, a good thing because he didn’t want to risk shining a light in there and giving his location away. He looked up, noting the spiral staircase and the illuminated peak of the lighthouse. The only light in the whole building came from that spotlight, but it was shining out, not down, so he stayed in the dark. There was a room to his right—probably the old office in the place. He edged closer to it. The door was shut.
He pushed it open and went in fast, coming up in a crouch.
A new scent hit him. Coppery. Acrid.
Blood.
There was no furniture in that room, nothing at all but the body. He could see the man lying in the middle of the room. He looked more like a twisted heap than a person.
“I’m FBI Agent Josh Duvane!” He called out, just in case this was some kind of trick. “Identify yourself!”
But the heap didn’t move.
Josh rushed forward. There was a gun on the floor near the downed man, inches from his hand. Josh kicked that weapon away. He kept his own gun in his right hand even as he reached for the other man’s shoulder.
Blood. Soaking wet with blood...because there was a gunshot wound to the guy’s shoulder.
In the exact same spot Josh had shot the perp who’d come at him and Casey. He pulled out his light and shined it at the man’s face.
Kurt Anderson’s skin was a stark white. Blood trickled from his pale lips, and his eyes were closed. Josh swore as he lowered the light over the rest of the man’s body. There was another gunshot wound to the fellow’s stomach. And so much blood.
“Josh!”
Tucker ran in after him. Josh glanced up. “It’s Anderson.” His hand went to the man’s throat. The guy’s skin was cold but...was that a pulse? Faint? Thready? He pushed harder, searching for that sign of life.
“The rest of the place is clear. Katrina isn’t here.” Tucker dropped to his knees beside Josh. He gave a low whistle. “This isn’t right. This whole scene...it’s wrong.”
Wrong because their victim was missing. Wrong because—
Kurt’s pulse jumped beneath Josh’s fingers. “He’s alive.”
Tucker immediately started applying pressure to the man’s stomach wound.
“Not...me...” Kurt whispered, the words little more than pained gurgle. “Not...”
Josh’s shoulders stiffened. It was a game, all right. All along. A setup. He’d been lured to the lighthouse, but the victim wasn’t there...
Because Katrina was never the victim that the perp really wanted.
Casey...she was the victim he’d wanted. And she was the woman who Josh had left behind.
* * *
HE’D HANDCUFFED HER.
Casey sat at the kitchen table, her hands cuffed behind her back, and she stared up at Tom—a Tom she didn’t know, not at all.
He’d pulled out another knife from his boot—and he’d put that knife to her throat as he stared into her eyes.
“Why are you doing this?”
He shrugged, rolling his shoulders, then stopped to wince.
Because he’s hurt! Now she realized that his right shoulder appeared a little bigger than the left, as if...he had bandages beneath his shirt.
“Casey...” He sighed out her name. “You’re my star reporter. In your last moments on earth, I really expected you to have better questions. Why are you doing this? I mean, that’s just so typical. I wanted more from you.”
“And I wanted my producer not to be a killer!” The words shot from her.
He smiled. “There we go. Got a little fight back, huh?”
She blinked. “You aren’t going to get away with this—”
“And we’re back to boring.”
“Josh will figure out it’s you! There’s a dead body in the hallway. There is no way he will think—”
Tom leaned in close to her. “I have a secret.” He smiled. “You thought you were the only one with a secret?” The knife cut into her throat. “So wrong. I have a big one. That secret will be here soon.”
Her heart felt as if it were about to rip right out of her chest.
He backed away from her. “We have to work fast, though, there isn’t a lot of time.”
Then he started opening drawers in the kitchen, one right after the other. She jerked against the cuffs even as her eyes stayed on his gloved hands. The same gloves he’d worn before...
“Here we go.” He lifted up a roll of duct tape. “Perfect.” He ripped off a piece, came back to her and slapped it over her lips. “If you’re not going to say anything useful, then you’d better not say anything at all.”
Her nostrils flared. The cuffs bit into her wrists.
“I’m going to stab you. Actually, I’m going to stab you a lot. You’ll hurt. You’ll bleed, and then your FBI agent will come back to find your body.” He leaned in close to her once more. His lips feathered over her ear. “But don’t worry—I’ll have killed the sick animal who attacked you. I’ll be the hero.”
The hell he would—
There was a rap at the door.
Her gaze snapped to the side, desperate, as she tried to look toward that door.
He stalked away from her, holding the knife. She saw him head toward the laptop—and the security feed. “Ah...and here she is. Just in time.” He tucked the knife behind his back. He disappeared from view.
Casey twisted her wrists, struggling desperately. The jerk had learned from last time. No more rope. She couldn’t cut or twist her way out of the handcuffs. They were too strong. But he’d left her legs free, his mistake. So she shoved down hard with her feet and rocked back, sending the chair crashing to the floor. Part of the wooden back broke beneath her, and she squirmed, getting her arms from behind the remains of that chair. She rolled and pushed to her feet.
“Casey?” Katrina was suddenly in front of her, staring with wide, shocked eyes.
Tom was right behind her friend. He’d hidden the knife. He’d—
He didn’t need to hide it.
Casey stilled.
Tom had said that he had a secret, a big one. And the perp hadn’t been working alone—she and Josh knew that t
ruth. A woman had screamed on the line when the killer had called her. And Casey had been so sure she was hearing Katrina’s scream.
Because I was.
“Sorry, Casey,” Katrina said, her lips curving down. “But it’s time for someone else to be the star. I’m done working behind the camera. This is it for me. My big break.”
What?
“The cops are going to find the Sandy Shore Killer. I left him dead in the lighthouse, complete with a gunshot wound to the shoulder. They’re going to find him, and I’ll give them a terrible, sad story about how I had to fight my way to freedom. I’ll have injuries, of course. A knife wound or two to prove the terrible hell I’ve been through. And I’ll say that the killer’s accomplice ran away when I got the gun from Kurt.”
From Kurt? Kurt Anderson? They’re trying to pin all of this on Kurt?
“I’ll be the story. You’ll be another dead victim. Sorry, but in this business, sometimes, you really have to be ready to do the dirty work if you want to hit the big time.”
Dirty work? They were killing.
“Let’s get rid of her first,” Katrina said, nodding, as she glanced back at Tom. “And then I’ll get a slash or two—”
He was already slashing.
Casey tried to scream as she lunged forward, but Tom had driven his knife into Katrina’s chest.
“I think you need more than a slash,” he said. He caught Katrina’s body as she slumped. “For this story to work, the partner has to be dead.”
Casey kept rushing forward. She plowed her body into Katrina’s slumped form—and into Tom. They all fell to the floor, landing in a heap. Casey rolled away fast, then she brought her cuffed hands up beneath her now kneeling legs. She strained and maneuvered until her hands were in front of her, and then she ripped the duct tape off her mouth, barely feeling the sting. “You bastard!” she yelled. She grabbed for Katrina.
The knife was still in Katrina’s chest. Her eyes were open, wide, shocked.
Blood was pumping from her, covering her shirt. Her lips parted, as if she’d speak.
Tom laughed. “Can you believe she truly thought she’d be my next lead reporter? She never had the killer instinct.”