Faces of Evil [2] Impulse

by Debra Webb

  Agony swelled inside Lori. Tears spilled from her eyes. Please, someone, help us. Someone had to come soon or it would be too late.

  Unless Lori sucked it up and did more than just lay here. Rage flooded her trembling body. She flattened her hands on the concrete and braced to propel herself upward.

  Spears turned to her.

  Lori froze.

  He swaggered over to where she lay and crouched down. “Do you know what you call a fed with no hands and no feet?”

  Lori held very still. She kept her gaze away from his. Sick mother fucker.

  “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, detective!”

  Lori shifted her attention to him. The urge to tear off his head stormed inside her.

  “Do you know what you call a fed with no hands and no feet?”

  “No.” Her body shook with the effort of lying still.

  He smiled. “Done.” He glanced at the woman. “See, she’s hardly moving now. Barely breathing. No one can save her now.” He laughed. “Even if a skilled surgeon had his hands on her right this second, the blood loss and shock would be too much.”

  Lori positioned her feet first, toes down, heels up. While he stared, mesmerized by the dying woman, she eased her hands into place flat on the floor beneath her shoulders.

  He turned to her. “I think this might finally get Jess’s attention.” He leaned a little closer. “I could have taken her sister or that sweet little niece of hers, but I didn’t. I knew that would make her too emotional. I don’t want that kind of emotion getting in the way.” He laughed. “Just the fear. Let her stew over what I could have done. Who’s the man now?” He laughed again. “I love it.”

  He glanced back at the woman. “Looks like she’s down for the count.”

  Lori sprang at him.

  The chain rattled.

  She knocked him over.

  He tried to get a grip on her neck. She grabbed him by the hair and banged his head against the floor. He manacled her arms.

  She rolled away from him, scooted away on her belly. Ignored the blood. Weapon! She needed a weapon. The saw was in her peripheral vision, she reached out for it.

  He was climbing on top of her.

  Reach! Lori! Get it!

  Her fingers wrapped around the bloody handle.

  He flipped her over.

  She swung the saw, blade side out, aiming for his neck. He caught her by the forearm, stopping the blow.

  “Women never learn,” he mocked. “Stupid bitches.”

  He ripped the saw out of her hand and threw it across the room.

  She clawed at his face with her free hand. He banged her upper body against the concrete over and over. Then he let go.

  Before Lori could shake off the spinning in her head, he was off her and walking away.

  She rolled weakly onto her stomach and tried to push up on all fours.

  Her hands slipped and she went down.

  Blood was everywhere. Her stomach heaved, sending more bitter bile into her throat. She strained upward, her arms shaking as she got onto all fours.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Before she could react, he stuck something to her back.

  Fire rushed through her body.

  Taser.

  She collapsed to the floor, her body jerking from the jolt of electricity.

  He leaned down and glared at her. “I know what you need, Lori Doodle. I almost forgot this part. You’re gonna love it.”

  He walked away.

  Lori tried to move. Couldn’t. She couldn’t scream. . . not that it mattered. No one would hear her.

  Seconds or minutes passed, she wasn’t sure which. The jerking and quivering slowed but still her limbs would not obey her brain’s commands.

  He was coming back.

  She tried to turn her head. . . couldn’t yet.

  A squeaking sound accompanied his steps. Something rolled up next to her head. She moved her eyes as far to the right as possible to see.

  A big bucket on wheels.

  Mop bucket. Industrial size.

  He grabbed her by the hair and jerked her up to her knees. Her arms wouldn’t work. . . wouldn’t fight him.

  “Take a deep breath, Lori Doodle.”

  Terror flooded her heart.

  Face first, he shoved her head into the bucket of water.

  15

  Dunbrooke Dr., 10:00 p.m.

  Dan scrubbed the towel over his body, soaking up the water on his skin.

  The hot shower had felt damned good against his tense muscles. But nothing he did relieved the helpless feeling that they were getting nowhere on this investigation.

  Detective Wells had been missing since 7:30 Monday morning. Two more women had gone missing in the thirty-eight hours since. This bastard was moving at warp speed. Though Belinda Howard had survived the encounter and was improving, there had been no word about Wells. No threats, nothing. The same for Agent Miller.

  Jess was pretending to be strong but Dan sensed she was falling apart inside. Eric Spears had turned himself in before noon today, about the same time Agent Miller had gone missing. Abducted by a man who looked like Spears and who appeared to be manipulating the same sort of game used by the Player, who Jess remained convinced was, in fact, Spears – but the Bureau remained equally convinced he was not. The only good to come of this day was the confirmation that Lily and her family had made it safely to Pensacola.

  Dan rubbed his hair until it was dry enough, then he dragged on a tee-shirt and jeans. Unless there was a Christmas gift around here some place he’d forgotten, he didn’t own a pair of pajamas and walking around the house in his boxers with Jess here was out of the question. More for his peace of mind than for any awkwardness she might feel.

  Knowing her, she would make a face and toss some snarky comment at him. She was far too distracted by this puzzling and emotionally-wrenching case to care what he walked around in, he suspected.

  Dan picked up his clothes and damp towel and headed for the mudroom. Jess had taken a shower already and changed into jeans and a tee. He liked that more comfortable side of her though he doubted she let anyone see her like that often. Nearly an hour after her own shower, she was right where he’d left her. At the dining room table pouring over her case file on the Player. Comparing notes with what little they had in this one, just like she’d done last night. And rubbing at that damned ring, turning it round and round.

  After he’d tossed the laundry into the hamper he grabbed two beers from the fridge and joined her. Pepsi wouldn’t do the trick tonight and he didn’t have any wine chilled.

  He sat a beer in front of her. “It might help you relax.”

  She glanced up, seeming surprised that he had entered the room. “Do I look like I want to relax? I’m missing something here and I have to find it.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He couldn’t resist. She actually looked soft and tousled and way too vulnerable. She’d pinned her hair haphazardly atop her head. Her glasses were a little smudged and there was a tiny speck of chocolate on that lush bottom lip of hers. She carried a stash of M&Ms and chocolate mints in her bag.

  He supposed it was true. Women turned to chocolate far more often than alcohol when stressed.

  Her expression darkened. “Why are you smiling? There is absolutely nothing to smile about.”

  “Lily and her family made it to Pensacola safely. Belinda Howard is greatly improved. Both are under police protection. We haven’t won this war but we haven’t lost either.” Damn. He needed this moment of optimism. He needed to believe Wells and Miller would be found alive. “Isn’t that something to smile about?”

  Jess laid her pencil down. “Detective Wells has been missing for nearly forty hours. The chances she will be found alive considering the kind of twisted member of the species who took her, are about zero – particularly since I don’t know who the hell he is. He’s apparently pissed at me for giving him that shout-out and we have no idea how th
at will play into his next move. We have no leads. . . we can do nothing but react to whatever he does next. There is nothing to smile about.”

  “I think he’s growing more careless with every hour that passes and somehow his actions have caused the real Eric Spears to surface,” Dan proposed. “That’s what I think.”

  She shook her head, disgusted. “He’s taunting me. He could have taken Alice or Lily as easily as he did Agent Miller. He wants me to sweat. He hasn’t made an attempt to get to me but I believe that’s the finale he’s building up to. He believes if he makes me desperate enough I’ll comply. Who else but Spears would have it in for me like that? If it’s not him, what’s the motive?”

  “If he does come after you,” Dan warned, “it’ll be the last thing he does.”

  She faked a smile. “That’s sweet of you, Burnett, and I do appreciate your concern. But if he makes a move against me, you won’t have to protect me. I’ll protect myself.”

  “Let’s just hope we don’t have to find out who does what.”

  She propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. “Honestly, I’m ready for him to make a direct move. The longer this drags out, the more likely someone will end up dead. Belinda Howard was lucky. Lori and Agent Miller may not be so fortunate. There just doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to his methods. No logic or pattern other than the fact that two of his three victims are law enforcement and all three are somehow, however vaguely, connected to me.”

  The pain on her face told him just how deeply she meant those words. She would trade herself right now if Wells and Miller were released. That Gant wanted to capitalize on that infuriated him.

  The search teams continued to come up empty-handed. Harper was personally following up on each location that was or had been used to house motorized vehicles of any kind or vehicle parts considering the trace evidence he’d found on Howard’s feet.

  And still they had nothing.

  The Bureau had nothing except the fact that the Eric Spears they had held as a person of interest in the Player investigation in Virginia last month had turned himself in to the local authorities in Richmond. Four hours later those same authorities had no choice but to release him.

  Gant had put Spears under surveillance for his own protection. At least that was what he’d told Spears. If Dan had his guess, he’d also told the guy that the surveillance might be best until the suspicions related to Jess were cleared up. The idea burned but, in reality, he understood Gant had a protocol to follow. Once in a while a damned good cop went off the deep end and committed far worse atrocities than tacking up photos on a wall.

  As long as the Bureau kept an eye on Spears, Dan didn’t care what they told him.

  Jess shuffled her photos and reports back into the dog-eared folder she’d been wagging around for God knows how long. She’d made a lot of notes on her pad. Everyone else had moved into the twenty-first century with their note taking, using their smart phones or electronic tablets, but not Jess. She still carried her trusty pencil and paper in that big old bag of hers.

  “What are you smiling about now?”

  Dan figured she was far more annoyed with his intrusion than with the fact he was determined to find some bright spot in this mess. “You’ve made a lot of notes. Care to share?” He took a swig from his beer.

  Visibly skeptical of his motive, she picked up her pad and reviewed the notes. “Like we talked about last night, there are only two ways that our unsub can bear such a striking resemblance to Spears.” Her brow puckered with frustration as she studied more of her notes. “One would be a blood relative. But we turned Spears’ background upside down. He has no living family. If he had a sibling, twin or otherwise, that sibling’s birth was never documented in connection with his family.”

  He was fairly certain she wasn’t waiting for a response from him. More likely she was analyzing.

  “But let’s reach. . . assume there was a sealed adoption or something, it’s possible a brother could look so similar. Like Lily and me. But why didn’t we find something?”

  Babies were born even today who ended up being sold or given away with no legal documentation so that was certainly possible. “What about option two?” Dan queried as he propped against the table.

  “Option two is the one I find more complicated and requiring a broader stretch of the imagination. Our copycat may be or have been an apprentice for the real Spears. Last month as we closed in on Spears, the anonymous source who baited me with the potential discovery of evidence is a perfect candidate. During his apprenticeship he may have altered his appearance with hair color, colored contacts and even plastic surgery to become like Spears. These steps may or may not have been at Spears’ bidding. Whatever the reason, anyone who would go that far would be a very unwell individual.”

  “I think that’s what we’re dealing with.” Dan couldn’t reconcile what he knew about motive with what had taken place today. “This Spears copycat burst into a clinic full of people and kidnapped a federal agent at gunpoint. That kind of move wouldn’t be so difficult to label if it was about the usual – money or revenge – but, as far as we know, it isn’t about either of those. It’s about a fixation on you. Getting your attention or setting the stage for a bigger strike related to you.”

  Jess chewed on her lower lip and considered his conclusion. “An individual who would go to such extreme measures would have to worship the real Spears. He wants to be him or to bask in his favor. Or maybe he wants his life. His reverence may have turned to envy and Spears may have shut him out, igniting this frenzy.”

  “Where does that put you in the scenario?”

  Her shoulders heaved then sagged. “I don’t know. Logically I would assume that I became a target of one or both after the events in Richmond. The real Spears, the one I interviewed in that investigation, may have made statements that prompted his apprentice to seek me out as a way to gain his mentor’s favor. Then again, if our unsub’s motive is envy, he may simply be doing this because he realized how intrigued Spears was with me and he wants to prove something.”

  She seemed to consider the idea for a moment before sharing her next thought. “Whatever the motive, I’m not the only one feeling desperate. This guy is feeling the pressure, too. That could explain his haphazard work.”

  The way she stated the facts as she saw them scared the hell out of him. “You make this sound so matter of fact.” He didn’t mean to allow anger to slip into his voice. He wasn’t angry with her, just the potential he heard in her voice for putting herself more at risk. “It isn’t, Jess. This is your life and the lives of at least two other people we’re talking about. Both of these men are clearly insane. They may see this as a game, but it’s not.”

  She threw down her pencil. “If I can’t set my emotions aside for the part of this case that impacts me personally, how do you expect me to do so when looking at Lori’s situation or Miller’s? Don’t make this different just because it’s me. The facts and theories have to be explored with at least some level of objectivity. Jesus.” She snatched up her pencil and focused on her notes, a warning that she was through debating the issue.

  “I need another beer.”

  Leaving the unopened one he’d offered her on the table, he pushed away from the table. If he didn’t walk away he would only say too much. This time last night she wasn’t speaking to him. He didn’t want to go there again. They’d spent the better part of the past twenty years doing that.

  When he closed the fridge door Jess was standing there staring at him, hands on hips and glasses pushed up into her hair. The image of her, barefoot and glaring at him, was so familiar it took his breath. All those years together. . . fighting like wildcats and making love as if there were no tomorrow.

  “We need to talk about how you see me in the field.”

  As much as he might assuredly need another cold one for this, he would be smart to keep a clear head. He set the beer on the counter. “Okay. Talk.”

&nbs
p; Sitting down wouldn’t make it any easier.

  “You asked me to take the position of deputy chief over a unit that will investigate major crimes, maybe even cases like this one, and yet you persist in treating me like a helpless civilian,” she charged. “Worse, like a helpless woman.”

  Okay, maybe he did. “I’m trying, Jess,” he admitted. “It’s just a different role for me where you’re concerned.” He held up his hands when she would have lit into him again. “My brain knows that you are as capable as I am when it comes to the job. Maybe more capable. But here,” he flattened his palm on his chest, “I just haven’t been able to get that yet.”

  The truth was out. So shoot him. He still had feelings for her, strong feelings. Anything that would hang on this long had to be real.

  She looked stunned or horrified or maybe both.

  “You wanted the truth, right? Or did you want me to tell you something that feels less awkward?” He couldn’t ignore this any longer and tiptoeing around the idea wasn’t working for him.

  “They’re all watching us, Burnett. Every sergeant and lieutenant and damned deputy chief in Birmingham PD is watching and waiting to see if you gave me this job to keep me here for personal reasons.”

  He couldn’t tell if she was worried, hurt or angry. But he was angry.

  “I wanted you to stay.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I wanted it and still do more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time. But, I offered you the position because you’re more than qualified and we need you. End of story.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Wait, you probably can’t accept my word on that since you don’t trust me anymore.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest signaling she was ready for battle. “You want to talk about trust? Here’s a perfect example. You want me to stay more than you’ve wanted anything since when exactly? Since you married Annette Denton? Or,” she shrugged “I can’t remember the names of your other two wives. Or maybe since the last time that reporter brought take-out to your door and you wanted her.”