But she was not about to show this nut case how scared she was. Somehow she had to keep the conversation going and maintain an air of self-confidence.
“So tell me. How’d you know?”
“Easy, really. All I had to do was drive down to Milldale and case the place out before putting everything into motion. The first thing I did was wait around for Mrs. Wilburn to leave for work one morning and then entered her house. She hadn’t even locked the door, if you can believe that! So I went inside and began looking around. The first thing I did was check out her laptop for anything that might be helpful. That’s when I discovered a scathing email from her ex-hubby, among other things.”
So Jodi must have deleted those emails right after hanging up from Nick’s call, Amanda thought.
“Then I cased out the entire house, beginning with a pile of bills on her desk. As I poked around her paperwork, I realized there wasn’t a single indication that she paid her bills by check or credit card—it was all in cash. That sent up a red flag.
“I came to the conclusion that she didn’t deal with banks so there was a good chance her inheritance was stashed away in the house somewhere. So I started looking for a safe but had no luck. Let me make one thing clear—even if I had found a safe I wouldn’t have attempted to crack it. Not my style. You see, it’s all about the challenge for me. Yes, the money’s good and all of that, but I get so much more than financial reward from what I do. I get power, and that my dear, is priceless!”
“So how many others have there been?”
“How many what?”
“Victims—how many others have you robbed and murdered?”
“What is this, truth or dare?” he laughed. “Let’s just say I like my second job, it has served me well and we’ll leave it at that for now.”
“But can’t you—”
Her iPhone vibrated again. Royer held out his hand.
“Hand it over,” he demanded.
Amanda pulled the phone out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. It was Uncle Ken. She noticed that it was him who had called the first time as well, not Alan. She handed Royer the phone.
He stared at the screen. “Who’s Ken Barker?”
“My uncle. He’s going to start looking for me if I don’t answer.”
“How’s he going to ever find you?”
“He knows I’m up here—so does my partner.”
“I seriously doubt that,” he said. He glanced at the phone again. “Seems he’s left a voicemail for you. Let’s see what he said.”
He tried accessing the voicemails but the phone was password protected.
“What’s the password?”
Amanda sighed. “3-7-3-3,” she replied. She thought it ironic that her password was of all things, “F-R-E-E.”
Royer punched in the code and accessed the voicemail. Amanda felt herself go numb as she heard her uncle’s message:
“Mandy, this is the second time I’ve called. Are you in Cleveland yet? Maybe you’re trying to find Royer’s place. Well, call back ASAP—I just found out they’ve arrested Nick. I’m on the way to the county jail now. Thought you’d want to know. Call me!”
“Your uncle just spilled the beans—he doesn’t know where you are—just that you’re somewhere in Cleveland. Which brings us to the sixty thousand dollar question: what am I going to do with you?”
“The answer is simple—you have to let me go. They know I’ve been looking for you and they’ll eventually find out where you live. You have no other choice,” Amanda said.
His fist hit the table so hard that a china sugar bowl fell to the floor and shattered into a hundred pieces.
“I don’t have to fucking do anything I don’t want to do!” he roared. “I am in charge here and what I say, goes. You got that, honey puss?”
Amanda didn’t reply; she just nodded. She now had a pretty good idea what Jodi must have gone through before Royer murdered her. He was not only a control freak but a hothead and a certifiable lunatic. It must have been terrifying.
She realized that her ass was grass, no matter what Royer chose to do. He would most likely kill her—little doubt of that. The question was when and where. Would he take her somewhere, murder her and then dump the body? Or would he simply do it here and take it from there?
How long would she have before he killed her? Her only chance would be to stall him—delay the inevitable for as long as she possibly could. Maybe, just maybe, she could figure a way to get out of this.
“So is Nick the same Nick who was married to Jodi?”
“Yes.”
“Looks like he’s gonna fry for his ex’s murder. Too bad.”
“That’s not going to happen. My partner knows all about you and will see that you fry whether you let me go or not. You can trust me on that.”
He laughed. “You can trust me on this: letting you go isn’t even an option, so you might as well get that out of your pretty little head. And I am not worried one iota about your partner. He’ll never be able to prove I did jack shit.”
“Don’t count on it—this will be an open and shut case.”
“No way. There’s only one thing that could possible incriminate me and it’s sitting out there in my workshop. All I have to do is make that disappear, and they won’t have a shred of evidence.”
Amanda thought a moment. It didn’t take long to realize that he was absolutely right. The patrol car was indeed all they had. At least so far. Could there be any other incriminating evidence when they got a warrant to search his property? She thought of how thorough Royer had been at the crime scene and doubted he would be that careless. Plus, he would have plenty of time to destroy anything else incriminating he might have before the authorities ever got here.
But not if she could prevent it. She had to find a way to reach out to somebody, and pronto. Let them know what was happening. Otherwise, she was screwed but good.
“You know I’m right, don’t you?” he said.
“We’ve got other evidence,” she lied.
“Nice try, but I don’t believe you. Let me tell you something, Amanda. I have this whole thing down to a science. I know what I’m doing and I know how to leave no trails behind. That’s why this Nick dude is being arrested and not me. Because they don’t have a goddamn single thing even hinting that I could have done it. And all the other times? Same story. Those cases have all grown stone cold because I’m that good.
“I’ll give you credit, though. Somehow you figured this out and managed to put me in a bit of a pickle. Nice work! But it’s nothing I can’t remedy. Enough of all this talk though, I’ve got to get to work. Stand up.”
She took too long to follow his order.
“Now!” he shouted, pointing the gun at her head.
Amanda stood up.
“I’ve got a few things to take care of, so while I’m busy you’re going to have to be detained. I know just the place—head out into the living room.”
With Royer at her back Amanda walked through the doorway leading to the living room. Like the kitchen, the place was dirty and dated with old furniture and chipped paint on the walls.
“Go sit over there by the radiator,” he said, pointing across the room. An old cast iron radiator stood midway along the far wall, suggesting that the house was much older than its modern exterior suggested.
“Sit down and don’t make a move.”
Royer kept his eyes and the gun trained on Amanda as he walked over to an end table, opened a drawer and pulled out what looked like a bicycle cable chain lock.
“Never used this before—looks like I’ve found a new use for it.”
He went over and grabbed both of her hands and clasped them together at the wrist.
“You’re hurting me!” Amanda cried as he began wrapping the steel cable tightly around her wrists.
He ignored her complaint. After wrapping her in a couple of lengths of cable, he pulled her arms toward the steel pipe coming up through the floor to the radiator.
“Get closer,” he demanded, pushing her at the same time.
Once he had enough slack to wrap both sides of the cable around the pipe he brought the ends together and slipped the combination lock through the looped ends.
“There we go,” he said, snapping the lock in place and turning the combination knob.
Amanda grunted as she tried to move her body closer to the radiator and loosen the chain enough to ease the pain in her wrists.
“Can’t you loosen this up some? I can hardly sit up!” she said.
“Nope, sorry. But I can do this.”
He began unbuttoning her shirt.
“What the fuck are you doing!” she cried.
“Make you more comfortable. You might as well relax, it’ll be easier.”
Amanda tried to knee him in the groin but he was too fast for her. He dodged, took the gun and stuck the barrel firmly against her forehead.
“If you want to live, you’ll stop resisting right now! Have you forgotten who’s running the show here? Now fucking sit still!”
Amanda was powerless as Clark Royer finished unbuttoning her blouse. He grasped her bra, pulled it down and stared at her exposed breasts.
“Nice! I’ll be thinking of these while I work on the car. Gotta give it a new paint job. In the meantime, you sit tight and wait here like a good little girl. I’ll be back to check on you soon.”
Amanda watched him as he left the room, stunned by what he had just done. It was one thing to be chained to a radiator, but seeing this sicko standing there ogling her boobs for no apparent reason other than to show that he was in control totally creeped her out. For some reason she thought of Adolf Hitler and had a glimpse at what Clark Royer could do if given half a chance. The man was control crazy and sick in the head.
She shifted herself around until she was as comfortable as possible. Examining the steel cable and where it was wrapped around her wrists, she came to the conclusion that there was no way to slip out of it. There were no more than a couple inches of play—not enough slack to free her hands.
She looked around for a tool or anything she might use to cut the cable. The nearest object, besides the radiator, was a threadbare chair six feet away.
In a nutshell, she wasn’t going anywhere.
Amanda spotted a clock on the fireplace mantle—it was almost eleven. She wondered if Uncle Ken would try calling again, or if he would call Alan to let him know that she wasn’t answering her phone. Not that it would do any good, anyway. They were both hours away and probably wouldn’t start worrying about her in time to catch this nut before he destroyed the evidence. And murdered her.
For the next hour Amanda sat thinking—about Nick, this case, Alan and her life. She had been close to death before; in fact it had also been during one of Alan’s other cases. She had escaped death by overpowering her captor, but only because Alan had shown up and distracted him, giving her just enough time to save herself along with the captor’s other victim.
Her quick action had impressed Alan—so much that he had asked her to consider partnering up with him. And now here she was. She had accepted his offer for this case mostly because she needed him to help her prove that Nick Wilburn was innocent. She had eventually ended up taking over the case herself and—hold your applause, please—had just found out who the actual murderer was.
End of story? she wondered. Was she going to be killed and was this asshole going to get away with murder? Would Nick be convicted and sent away for life?
She had no idea. It just didn’t seem right—that much she knew. She also knew she did not want to die. She wanted to live to see Clark Royer arrested, tried and convicted for his crimes. She wanted to live to see Nick freed and be able to get on with his life. She wanted to live so she could be with Alan because she loved him.
She heard the kitchen door open. A moment later Clark Royer sashayed into the living room, smiling. Not a good sign.
“Howdy, honey, I’m back!” he sang.
He came over and sat down next to her. He put his finger under her chin, causing her to flinch. The smell of auto paint was stifling.
“Gave that Crown Vic a brand new look—wait till you see her! No more cop markings, no more boring black and white paint. She’s a real beauty now!”
Amanda wondered if the crime investigators would be able to see what was under the fresh paint when they nailed this creep. Maybe they could tell he’d painted over the only solid piece of evidence.
“You’re awfully quiet—talk to me!” he said.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know—maybe something like how you can’t wait to see the former cop car? That would be a start.”
“Okay, I can’t wait to see it. How’s that?”
“Frankly, you don’t exactly sound very thrilled. But that’s okay, you probably have other things on your mind. Makes no difference anyway because I wouldn’t let you see it even if you wanted to.”
“Why’s that?”
“No time. I have to get you out of here, and the sooner the better.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“I’m still not sure yet, but I’ve been giving it some thought. Somehow we have to make it look like you were never here. Like something horrible happened while you were trying to find my place.”
“Horrible how?” she asked, her voice cracking.
“Oh, you know. Like you took a curve too fast in that Jeep and crashed into a tree or ran into a pond. Something like that. Whatever happens, it’s going to kill you—that much I know.”
So he had found the Jeep—she should have known. Amanda felt her heart sink. Is this really happening? She felt as though she was in the midst of a horrible nightmare that never ended. She would pinch herself but this fucking chain made that impossible.
“We have to go now. Here, I’ll take that chain off.”
He knelt down, grasped the combination lock and suddenly paused before turning the dial. He reached over, opened her shirt and took both of her breasts in his hands.
“Damn, I wish we had more time together—you have one sweet body here, honey! Fuck it, just my luck. I sure wish I’d met you under more opportune conditions.”
He sighed and let go of her. He began working the combination but after three tries was unable to open the lock.
“Goddamn it, I forgot the combination! I’ll be back.”
He stormed out of the room and it sounded like he’d gone down to the basement. Amanda’s mind was in overdrive trying to think of a way out of this. Maybe she could take him by surprise the moment she was freed from the radiator. The guy was quick but maybe not quick enough. As long as that gun wasn’t pointed at her she may just have a crack at him.
Royer returned, carrying a hacksaw. “This’ll do the job.”
He placed a section of steel cable against the radiator and began to saw. He was using both hands—one to hold the chain in place and the other to work the saw. The gun was lying where he’d placed it on the floor beside him. In less than a minute he had cut the chain in two and in a flash Amanda sprung into action. She freed her hands, tucked in her thumb, flexed her fingers and delivered a perfectly placed eye strike to Royer’s eyes. Stunned and in agonizing pain, he fell back against the radiator, both hands covering his injured eyes. Amanda whisked up the gun off the floor and pointed it directly at Royer’s chest.
“Hands up, asshole!” she screamed.
Reeling from the pain of having his eyes nearly poked out of their sockets, Royer hesitantly removed his hands and raised them in the air. He was blinking his eyes repeatedly, tears pouring down his cheeks.
“I can’t fucking see!” he cried.
“You’ll be fine in a few minutes,” Amanda replied. “Unfortunately.”
“Where did you learn how to do that?”
“Self defense training. I graduated at the top of my class. Now turn around.”
“What the hell are you going to do now?”
“Tie your si
ck ass up.”
Amanda grabbed the bicycle chain and looked it over.
“Hands behind your back,” she ordered.
Royer did as he was told and using one hand, Amanda managed to wrap the cable several times around Royer’s wrists.
“I still can’t see—you sure my sight’s going to come back?”
“Pretty sure, but I can’t guarantee it. There have been a few cases where that move has resulted in permanent damage. So I guess it’s possible that you’re one of those few.”
She didn’t want to take the gun off Royer for even a second but she had to tie the cable together. She quickly tucked the pistol between her thighs just long enough to tie the chain twice then recovered the gun.
“Let’s go into the kitchen,” she said. “Don’t make any moves or I’ll blow you away.”
“Not much a blind person can do,” he said weakly.
Smiling, Amanda took Royer by the arm and led him into the kitchen.
“Sit down in this chair,” she ordered. “You got any duct tape?”
“Nope.”
“Liar. Tell me where it is or I’ll be forced to knock you out with the handle of this gun.”
“I think it’s in the basement.”
“Stand up and lead the way.”
“I still can’t see!”
“I won’t let you fall down the stairs,” she said dryly.
Amanda nudged him forward, holding onto his shackled hands. She opened the door and turned on the basement lights.
“Step down.”
Royer managed to get his foot on the first step and eventually made it all the way down to the bottom.
“Where’s the tape?”
“On the work bench, I think.”
Amanda spotted the tape and went over to get it, keeping the gun trained on him.
“Hey, I can see again!” he said.
“Wonderful. Now you can lead the way back upstairs.”
After returning to the kitchen Amanda ordered him to sit down again and began wrapping duct tape around Royer and the chair. After a half dozen or so rounds, she tore it off the roll.
Double Trouble Page 26