Faces of Evil [2] Impulse

by Debra Webb

  “The clock is ticking, Jess,” he singsonged.

  Her attention flew back to him. Dan groaned, managed to lift his head. He looked at Jess and the ache that swelled inside her nearly overwhelmed her. She had to help him!

  She readied her grip on the Glock. “I’ll ask you once more, where is Detective Wells?”

  Spears flashed another of those million-dollar smiles. “We’ve had this problem all along, Jess. You just won’t pay attention.” Rage darkened his face. “Now listen!”

  Jess flinched. Keep it together.

  “Listen carefully,” he said, as calmly as if the outburst hadn’t occurred. “We don’t have much time.”

  “All right. I’m listening.” Think, Jess. What’s his next move? He has a precise plan. What’s yours?

  “You see, Jess, I’m going to walk out of here. And you –”

  Her hands shook. Dammit!

  He smiled.

  Fury lit in her veins. She wanted to shoot this son of a bitch so badly. If she did, could she help Dan? Get him down? How would she hold him up and find a ladder at the same time. Shit!

  And where was Lori? She glanced around the room again, her gaze landing lastly on the bloody knife on the table. Please don’t let her be dead.

  “You have a choice,” Spears continued in that voice that was wrong.

  And then she knew what to do.

  “I’m sorry,” she interrupted his monologue, “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Fury twisted his battered face. “You,” he roared, “can waste valuable time trying to stop me or you can save the chief.” He patted Dan’s legs. “Or,” he inclined his head for emphasis, “you can save your friend Detective Wells.”

  Completely focused now, frame after frame of the hours she’d spent interviewing Spears flashed in her brain. . . watching his every expression and mannerism. . . listening to the nuances of his voice.

  The calm she desperately needed settled over her. “I guess you have it all figured out, Reed.”

  He wasn’t outwardly surprised that she recognized the differences, but he was disappointed. The cocky expression and posture waned.

  “That’s right,” she taunted, giving him a taste of his own medicine, “I know who you aren’t. Did your friend leave you here to do his dirty work? Seems like you got the short end of the stick. A smart guy like you should’ve seen this coming.”

  Water splashed on the floor. Jess glanced to her right before she could stop the automatic reaction. Water gushed from beneath the lid and over the rim of one of the vats.

  “And that’s my cue.”

  Her attention snapped back to Reed.

  “One last question,” he said, “do you have any idea how long Detective Wells can hold her breath?”

  Oh God! Lori was in the vat! The urge to run to her slammed into Jess.

  Reed licked his lips as if he could taste Jess’s fear. “I do, and I’d say you have maybe two minutes max.”

  The fear, the sound of the water splashing. . . all of it faded. There was only the weapon in Jess’s hand and the target in her sight.

  “Then I guess you’d better run,” she advised.

  Reed stepped away from Dan.

  Jess fired.

  The shot exploded in the room, shattering the trance that had blocked all else.

  Reed crumpled to the floor.

  Jess rushed against the wood table. Knives and scalpels rattled and flew across the floor as the table rolled the few yards necessary.

  Dan’s sneakers dragged across the table, he stumbled, got his feet under him and steadied himself. He tried to speak, his words muffled.

  She got it. He was okay.

  Shoving her weapon into her waistband, Jess ran for the vat. She slipped. Hit the floor hard. She scrambled up. Grabbed the lid and shoved it out of the way. It banged against the wall.

  Lori’s green eyes stared up at Jess through the water. A burst of terror tried to paralyze her. Just get her out!

  Her body was duct taped in an awkward position, arms around her knees, knees against her chest. The tape was wrapped around her mummy style, scarcely any skin showing. Her body was wedged down in the vat and her head was leaned back in an attempt to get her nose above the water line.

  Jess reached in with both arms to get a solid hold on her. She pulled.

  Lori’s face broke the surface.

  She gasped.

  Jess couldn’t pull her up high enough to get her over the rim. . . couldn’t hold on to her well enough to keep her face up those few necessary inches.

  Lori slipped back under the water. Water sloshed over the side.

  Jess shoved at the vat to turn it over. Too heavy. Wouldn’t budge. She couldn’t climb in. Not enough room. She’d be on top of Lori. Couldn’t reach inside and shoot a hole through the wall. . . too confined and risky. Her searching fingers found the switch. Turned off the water. Couldn’t find a drain. She needed a damned bucket to bail out the water. . . something.

  Forget it. She reached in and dug her fingers into the rows of tape around Lori’s body and pulled. She pulled with all the strength she could summon. Lori’s face broke the surface again.

  Another gasp. . . cough.

  If Jess could get her over the rim this time. . . she gritted her teeth and tried harder.

  Tape snapped. Lori went under again.

  “Dammit!”

  This wasn’t working! What now? She reached into the water, got a good hold on Lori again and pulled her up as far as she could.

  Lori didn’t gasp for air this time. Fear lanced Jess’s heart. She shoved Lori down, hard. Water sloshed over the rim. Jess pulled her up again. Shoved her down. More water sloshed out of the vat.

  This time the water level had dropped enough Lori’s head didn’t go fully under the water. She tilted her head back, dragged in some more air and started to cough.

  Thank God.

  She coughed and coughed, water spurted from her nose. “Thank. . . you,” she muttered between gasps.

  Relief made Jess’s knees weak as she grabbed a knife from the floor and freed Loris hands and arms. “I’ll be right back.”

  Reed hadn’t moved. The bullet she’d put in his skull had done its job.

  Jess hurried to the table and climbed up onto it. She grabbed one of the scalpels and reached up to saw through the rope just above Dan’s neck. It was too tight around him to risk trying to slip the scalpel between the rope and his throat. When the rope snapped in two Dan collapsed to his knees.

  “I’ve got you,” she assured him as she removed the tape from his mouth. She needed to get him flat down on the table and still. There was a lot of blood and she couldn’t be sure what kind of neck or spine injury he may have sustained. She dragged out her cell, hit 911. With the cell tucked between her chin and shoulder, she removed the duct tape from Dan’s wrists and ankles and helped him to lie down.

  “You okay?” There was so much blood. She checked his wounds. Lots of shallow injuries. One nasty looking stab wound. The bleeding had slowed so she flattened her palm over the wound and applied pressure.

  “I’m. . .” he licked his lips “I’m okay.”

  Why the hell wasn’t Harper here yet? “You okay over there, Lori?” The screen on her cell still said calling. Hurry! Damned thick walls were slowing down reception.

  “I’m okay,” Lori called out, still sounding breathless. “I just need. . . out of here.” Her voice got a little high pitched on the last.

  The 911 dispatcher came on the line. Jess identified herself and provided the location.

  The back door burst open.

  Harper and two others rushed in.

  Jess dropped the phone. “We’re clear,” she said to Harper. “Reed’s down. Burnett’s lost a lot of blood and he may have a neck injury.”

  “ALS is right behind us,” Harper assured her.

  “Harper!” Lori cried. “I need your jacket! Get me out of here!”

  Lori sounded strong, like herself
. Jess managed her first deep breath since walking into this nightmare. “Take care of Lori,” she said to Harper. “I’ve got Dan.”

  Harper was already headed that way. The other two detectives were securing the scene.

  Jess felt ready to collapse but there was a ways to go yet.

  Dan looked so pale. “You hang in there,” she warned. “I’ll be mad as hell if you ruin my big rescue.”

  His lips quirked the tiniest bit.

  He was lethargic. Had trouble focusing his eyes. The ketamine.

  Keeping the pressure on the wound, Jess leaned down close and caressed his face. Fear tightened her throat at the possibility that Reed may have given Dan too much on purpose as a back-up strategy. “Hey, did he drug you?”

  Dan blinked, stared at her as if he couldn’t actually see her. “Yeah.”

  That would explain the lethargy. Still, he’d lost a lot of blood, too. And she was worried sick about his neck and spine.

  Paramedics hustled into the room. Jess explained about the possible ketamine and neck injury, then she got out of the way. She swiped at the tears spilling down her cheeks with the backs of her hands. The sight of Dan’s blood on her hands had her body quaking.

  Lori’s sobs filtered through Jess’s worries. She turned to go to her, but Harper was already holding her tightly. She was wearing his jacket.

  Lori would be okay.

  They all would.

  Jess walked over to where Reed lay. She crouched down and examined his face more closely. She found the telltale scars in his hairline and behind his ears. Studied his bloody hands and fingers. Though she’d only been face-to-face with Spears for that one lengthy interview, she remembered every detail. The long, slender fingers. Not these blunt-tipped, thicker ones.

  This was definitely not Spears. Just another run-of-the-mill sociopath who’d fallen under the influence of a far more devious and intelligent sociopath.

  Spears could be anywhere. Already scoping out his new hunting grounds.

  “Jess!”

  She pushed to her feet and hurried back to Dan’s side.

  “Take it easy, chief,” one of the paramedics urged. “We’re prepping you for the ride to the hospital.”

  “Jess!”

  She reached for his flailing arm. “I’m here. It’s okay, Dan.”

  His fingers fisted in her tee and he pulled her close. She searched his face, got sick all over again at the pain etched there. The paramedic had applied a neck brace in deference to the possible neck injury.

  “I’m going with you to the hospital, Dan, don’t worry.” The ketamine, if that was what he’d been given, sometimes caused hallucinations and amplified fears.

  “Spears,” he murmured.

  Jess shook her head, caressed his jaw gently to comfort him. “It wasn’t Spears. It was Reed and he’s dead. Spears is –”

  “He was here.”

  Jess went cold. The sound of a gurney rolling up behind her signaled that she needed to get out of the way. “In Birmingham? Or here?”

  “Here,” Dan muttered, his gaze fixed on hers now. “Spears was here.”

  23

  UAB Hospital, 5:30 p.m.

  Chet waited outside Lori’s room. He needed a moment to compose himself before going back inside.

  Her mother and sister were gathered around her. They had arrived at the ER half an hour after Chet and Lori. The reunion had filled his heart with relief and happiness. Lori was alive and safe.

  Until he’d gotten her out of that vat and the rest of that damned tape off her, he’d wanted to scream with the agony tearing at his soul. He kept imagining what sort of injuries her folded-up position and the tape might be hiding. So many bruises. The possibilities of what that son of a bitch had done to her kept twisting in his head.

  Other than one cracked rib, too many bruises to count and being dehydrated, Lori was fine.

  If he spent the rest of his life on his knees in prayer, he would never be able to thank God enough. Once they’d taken Lori away for x-rays and refused to allow him to accompany her, he’d made another decision. Beginning this Sunday, if his ex-wife was agreeable, he wanted to start taking Chester to church – the same one where his parents had taken him to as a kid.

  Maybe one day Lori would go with them.

  That was probably too much to hope for.

  He’d checked on Chief Burnett. He, too, was holding up well considering what he’d been through. He wasn’t happy that Spears had gotten away, but the Bureau was on top of that. Spears wasn’t BPD’s problem anymore.

  “Chet.”

  He snapped to attention and smiled for Mrs. Wells. “Yes, ma’am?”

  Lori’s mother and her sister Terri slipped out into the quiet corridor. Mrs. Wells gave him another hug. As she drew back she blinked at fresh tears. “We’re going to the cafeteria for a few minutes.” She smiled. “I think she wants some time alone with you.”

  Chet’s heart skipped a beat. “I’ll keep her company while you’re gone.”

  “You want us to bring you some coffee or something?” Terri asked.

  Chet shook his head. “I don’t need anything. Thank you.”

  He lingered in the corridor a moment after they were gone. Not because he wasn’t looking forward to a few minutes alone with Lori but because he didn’t trust himself not to break down emotionally.

  It was a risk he’d simply have to take.

  The room was quiet. The TV muted. Some silly sitcom on the screen. The lights were low but not so low that he couldn’t pause a moment just to look at her. Her long dark hair spread across the pillow made him yearn to feel it sliding across his skin or slipping through his fingers. And though her face and throat were badly bruised, one eye swollen, she was more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen.

  Her eyes opened and she smiled, then winced. She patted the mattress. “Come sit with me.”

  He crossed the room, barely hanging on to his composure, and settled carefully on the edge of the bed. “Did they give you anything for the pain?”

  “Yeah. I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

  The silence settled between them. It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, just there, sort of in the way. But he wasn’t sure what to say to break it. What he wanted to say was probably the wrong thing.

  “While I was in the warehouse,” she said, saving him from the awkwardness, “I worried about my mother and my sister and whether or not they’d be okay if. . . if I didn’t make it.”

  A fierce surge of emotion pounded him. “I knew you’d make it.” That was all he trusted himself to say.

  “I thought about you, too.”

  She looked up at him and his chest constricted with emotion. He wanted to take her in his arms and promise her anything if she would only give him a chance to be the man in her life. If that made him weak, he didn’t care.

  “What did you think about me?” His voice cracked.

  “I thought that maybe I made a mistake.”

  Hope nudged him. He smiled. “You rarely make mistakes, detective. You’ve told me so many times.”

  She laughed. Put her hand to her mouth. “Ouch!”

  “Sorry.”

  She waved him off. “To hell with this beating around the bush. I kept thinking that I should have given you a chance.” Tears glittered in her eyes. “I was terrified that I might not be able to make that right.”

  As much as he wanted to hear those words, she was vulnerable and emotional right now. Not to mention on pain meds. He took her hand in his and gave it a little squeeze. “Tell you what, we’ll take it slow and if you still feel this way in a month or so we’ll move it to the next level.”

  “Sounds good to me, sergeant.”

  They talked and laughed and Chet was almost afraid to close his eyes even to blink for fear that he would open them and find that this was only a dream.

  But it was real. What they felt for each other was real.

  The only mystery was who would cave and admit
it first.

  His money was on Lori.

  Which was a no-brainer since he’d already caved.

  24

  8:31 p.m.

  Jess paced the room. She couldn’t sit still if her life depended on it. They’d taken Dan down for an MRI just to be sure they hadn’t missed anything with all the other tests. She’d showered and changed into a pair of scrubs kindly provided by one of the ER nurses. A call to her sister had confirmed they were all still safe and enjoying their getaway. The kids were having so much fun they had decided to stay in Pensacola through the weekend.

  The man responsible for Lori’s and Howard’s abductions, and Agent Miller’s murder was dead. As best they could determine, Matthew Reed was responsible for all the events that took place here. Except for Dan’s stabbing. If they matched the blood on the knife to Dan’s and discovered Spears’ prints matched any lifted from that knife’s handle, they would finally have evidence connecting him to a crime. Attempted murder, maybe. It was far less than he deserved but it was better than nothing.

  The good news, Jess had to bear in mind, was that Dan’s injuries were not nearly as bad as they could have been. The blade had missed anything vital. The CT scan had ruled out any fractures to the spine or any other permanent damage, unless something was discovered in the MRI. He would be sore as hell for a while, but everything would heal. The doctor insisted he stay overnight just in case any swelling or other unexpected complications occurred. They were keeping Lori overnight, too. Jess and Chet had played musical rooms a couple hours ago. He’d spent a few minutes with Dan and she’d visited with Lori.

  Whenever Jess closed her eyes she saw him dangling in the air for those few seconds before she’d gotten the table under him.

  She shook off the haunting memories. He was fine now. They were all fine.

  Except that Eric Spears had gotten away.

  Fury lit inside her at the idea that he was out there somewhere instead of in hell where he belonged.

  Gant had called while she and Dan were headed to the ER. Spears’ Cessna had taken off from Montgomery Regional Airfield at two that afternoon. The Bureau had every airport in the country on alert. The flight plan filed had listed the destination as Richmond and a single passenger, Eric Spears. Four hours later and there had been no communication with the pilot and no report of a crash or a landing.