Logan shook his head. “Tell me about this Knudsen guy. Any major quirks that would indicate where he put the other victims? Hunting lodges? Favorite fishing holes? That sort of thing.”
“I went fishing with him once. Carl’s a scary dude at times. He has a temper you don’t want to mess with. He’s fishing buddies with Wade though. Wade might know more. A man tends to share when they’re out fishing in a quiet spot,” Wally offered. “But I thought the theory was he dumped them in the ocean.” When Wally noticed Logan flinch, he added, “Sorry. But I thought that was the prevailing consensus.”
“I don’t think so,” Logan advised. “My two cents is he’d want a place where he could keep revisiting his victims.. It’s just an idea that keeps rolling over and over again in my head.”
“I saw Knudsen’s temper flare firsthand today. He wanted to take out a gun to a thirteen year old who he suspected had stolen a pack of AAA batteries,” Kinsey reported.
“He’d already started to crack from the pressure. From the moment we discovered Carly Radigan, he knew it was a matter of time before the cops came knocking,” Logan theorized. “With this guy still out there I won’t rest easy until the cops pick him up.”
“That’s a given,” Nick said. “We should all be extra vigilant.”
Carl Knudsen hadn’t gone far. At least not until he’d finished his business, not until he’d paid that bastard Donnelly back for ruining the perfect life he’d made. Why hadn’t Donnelly and Wyatt stayed out of his business? If everyone in town had simply fallen in line and believed that no-good Troy Dayton had killed Gina, he’d still be in his own house, watching television with his wife right about now, getting ready to sleep in his own bed.
But no, they’d both been instrumental in that damn campaign to find Gina’s real killer. What a joke. What did they know about it anyway?
His own wife certainly never understood him. Elaine. Some help she had been over the years. She’d always sided with her brother, Kent, anyway, and today, when he’d needed her the most, had been no exception. Carl took another pull on his bottle of vodka, hoping the liquid could settle him down some.
Tonight he would stay at his special place, the place no one knew about. Tomorrow he would seize the opportunity. Opportunity always presented itself if you knew how to bring it around. Carl knew how to bring it around. Hadn’t he been doing that very thing for over two decades now? No one would be laughing at his quarter century success rate. There was no doubt he’d achieved immortality. No matter what happened over the next few days, for now and all time, people would know his name. The name Carl Knudsen would mean something in this shitwater of a town. He’d probably even have followers. Isn’t that why he’d gone down this path in the first place, to make a name for himself, to stand out from everyone else?
No, no, that wasn’t quite right. His mother had caused this. It was all her fault. He’d never wanted to stay and waste his life running a goddamn drugstore. His brother, Mark, was supposed to step in and fill his shoes in that regard. But no, even when Mark had done exactly what she wanted, she still wasn’t satisfied. His mother had insisted it be Carl, her eldest, year after long year. He’d sacrificed his own happiness to please JoAnne Knudsen. At one time he’d wanted to see the world, experience something beyond the city limits or county line. He’d had plans to get out of this town for good. But because of his mother he’d gotten pulled into living a life he’d never wanted. It was her constant nagging that had made him so angry. Even now, he could still hear her sharp tongue, over and over again in his head.
Carl took another long drink to stop the rage from completely taking over. He sometimes blacked out when that happened. And he couldn’t afford to do that now.
No, he had to focus on paying Donnelly back and he knew exactly what he needed to do.
At work the next day, Kinsey had to confess to Aaron what was really wrong with her. Mainly because she still felt like throwing up. She’d already made two mad dashes to the bathroom only to have Aaron furrow his brow at her when she returned to her desk.
It was best to get this out in the open anyway.
“You’re what?”
“You heard me, I’m pregnant.”
“What does Logan Donnelly intend to do about this?”
“We intend to get through this together and have a baby, that’s what. You said it yourself, Ina Crawford never married her Fuller Brush salesman and she had three kids.”
“I wouldn’t exactly hold that up as an ideal relationship. Young people these days do everything backwards,” Aaron grumbled.
“Aaron, we’ve only known each other a few months. We can’t go jumping into marriage just because I’m pregnant. That makes no sense.”
“Suit yourself. But you need to protect your heart. Don’t go losing it to this guy until you know if he’ll stick.”
Good advice, Kinsey realized. Too bad her heart had already taken that dive off the cliff. Otherwise she might gladly have followed Aaron’s sage advice.
Logan had been antsy all day. He’d barked at every single member of both crews—several times—until finally they managed to stay out of his way.
Since he’d done nothing but toss and turn till the early morning hours, he attributed his bad mood to his restless night. But he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that was the problem.
Knudsen was still out there evading capture. That stuck in his craw enough that he intended to do something about it. He’d put in a call to Brent Cody. Even though Brent had yet to call him back, Logan wasn’t taking no for an answer. He wanted Brent to approve some sort of protection for Kinsey—even if it was only Deputy Dan sitting in a squad car outside Kinsey’s office—at least that might keep him from worrying every single minute she wasn’t with him.
Because, holy crap, in eight months he was going to be a father. He’d have a son or a daughter of his own. After knowing for almost twenty-four hours, the shock of it had yet to wear off. That’s the reason he wouldn’t rest until Knudsen was locked up.
He checked his watch for the twentieth time in half an hour. To hell with this, Logan decided as he headed to his truck. If Brent Cody couldn’t return a phone call, he’d go see Ethan personally bend his ear and make his case with one Cody brother.
It took Logan less than five minutes to go the four blocks to Ocean Street. He drove up in the driveway of the Cody house about the same time Garver pulled up to the curb in his squad car. Good, thought Logan. He would convince both men, Kinsey needed protecting.
Having spent better than an hour with Jessie Falcone explaining why it was best not to leave ten thousand dollars to her poodle, Sugar, Kinsey felt worn out. By three-thirty that afternoon she was more than ready to go home.
She allowed herself an image of taking a long soothing shower, getting into a pair of comfy pajamas, and settling back with a good book when the front door burst open.
Carl Knudsen stepped inside the foyer, glanced at Kinsey, and pointed a nine-millimeter pistol at her heart.
From the opposite direction inside his office, Aaron shouted, “What the hell? Carl Knudsen you put that gun down right this minute.”
“Shut up old man!” Out of the corner of his eye Carl saw Kinsey reach for the phone on her desk. He turned the gun in Aaron’s direction, pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot reverberated off the walls as it hit Aaron in the shoulder. Aaron dropped where he stood.
Carl shifted the barrel of the gun to Kinsey and motioned for her to cross to him. “Come on, sweetheart. You’re coming with me.”
It crossed Kinsey’s mind as she stood up that if she let Carl get her to his car, she’d be a dead woman. This was a serial killer whose body count was in the double digits. She needed to fight not only for herself but for the life growing inside her. Taking her time to walk across the room, she tried to formulate a plan.
“I haven’t got all day. Now move your ass over here like a good girl and do it quick or I’ll take out this old buzzard here and now for real by
putting a bullet in his brain.”
The minute she reached him, Carl grabbed her by the hair and tried to drag her out the front door. But Kinsey latched on to the doorframe, holding on with all she had. When he tried to yank her, she gripped the wood with her nails digging into the molding.
She had to fight, to give Aaron time to dial for help.
Inside the house, bleeding and weak, Aaron reached his desk. He punched in numbers on the phone, waited for someone to pick up. When they did, he wheezed into the receiver, “Shooting. Two-six-zero-six Landings Bay. Kinsey’s been kidnapped. Knudsen took her. Get Garver!” With that, he slumped onto the hardwood floor.
“Let go, goddamn it!” Carl shouted. With brute force, he yanked hard enough to dislodge Kinsey’s hold. He pulled her along across the grass and down the driveway to his SUV.
But Kinsey didn’t make it easy for him. With every step, she fought, slapping, hitting at his arm, his face, anything she could reach. “Why are you doing this?” Kinsey cried, her head beginning to ache as he pulled her along by her hair.
“Your boyfriend’s gonna pay for opening up this can of worms. You’re my ticket out of this town for good.” Carl dragged her up to the passenger side of the SUV, threw open the door.
But Kinsey still struggled and kicked. He backhanded her across the face to get her to stop. She went down on all fours onto the pavement. Trying to get her breath back, she tried to roll, but he reached down with the gun and whacked her in the back of the head with it. The thump had her seeing stars. Now on her back, he slapped her again across the face. She put her hands up and started kicking, trying to block his attack. She managed to knock him back a step, and tried to crawl to get away. He caught her by the back of the shirt and threw her down on the ground. The force knocked the breath out of her. This time, he straddled her, closed his hands around her throat.
About that time Dan Garver skidded his police cruiser to a stop. The minute the car stopped moving, Logan shot out of the car with Ethan right behind him. Running full out now to where Kinsey lay beaten, Logan knocked Carl off Kinsey while Ethan put him in a choke hold.
But when Logan spotted Garver just standing there, he barked, “Get an ambulance, she’s lost consciousness!” Logan glared at Carl Knudsen. “You bastard! If anything happens to Kinsey, I’ll come for you. There won’t be any place you’ll be able to hide. I’ll get you no matter what I have to do or where I have to go! Do you hear me, you son of a bitch?”
Logan didn’t think anything or anyone could ever replace his determination to find out what happened to his sister. But right now Kinsey was behind one of the curtains in the ER. She hadn’t come around in the ambulance. He’d told the physician on call about her pregnancy. He’d paced and stalked the waiting room. He’d sent angry glares in the direction of the nurses. Nothing had made them move any quicker or gotten him answers. He had just decided to take matters into his own hands and storm the flimsy curtain when the doctor stepped out from behind it. He wore green scrubs and looked no older than thirty.
“I’m Dr. Prather. Are you waiting for Kinsey Wyatt?”
Logan nodded. “How is she? Is she all right?”
“Her vitals are good. She came around briefly, and if you’re Logan, she asked for you.”
“Damn it! I want to see her.”
“You will. We’re keeping her here overnight though to make sure we watch her for at least twenty-four hours. She has a concussion and bruising along her face and eyes. The man’s attack left her with several contusions on the back of her head and a small gash that took four stitches to close. We think she probably came down hard on the concrete. The palms of her hands are also raw from landing on the gravel.” The doctor paused to slap him on the back. “But with all that she’s been through she’s a young, healthy girl who put up one helluva fight. Give her a few days and she’ll be good as new.”
Logan wasn’t convinced. He wanted to see for himself. So when they moved Kinsey to a private room he followed the gurney into the elevator where he found himself afraid to touch her. Why didn’t she wake up and look at him? When the orderlies got to the room, they moved her from the stretcher to her bed. It was then and only then, Logan finally picked up her limp, pale hand, the one with an IV taped to the back.
Her fingers were ice cold.
“Will she be okay?”
Logan jolted a little, at the now familiar voice he had grudgingly learned over the past few weeks to accept. But he wheeled on the man, a showdown long in coming. “What the hell do you care anyway? She trusted you, some fucking spirit she’s convinced looks after people. Did you look out for her when it counted? No, you left her dangling on a vine knowing full well it was Knudsen who killed Megan and didn’t say a word. You almost got her killed because of it.”
The only thing that stopped Logan’s rant was the wide-eyed nurse that opened the door a crack, stuck her head in the room. “Sir, if you don’t keep it down, I’ll have to ask you to leave. Yelling at her isn’t going to wake her up any faster.”
“I wasn’t—” The miscommunication simply made Logan more furious. But he lowered his voice and growled in frustration, “If anything happens to her—”
“You heard the doctor she’s going to be all right. You want answers, Logan? Now that Knudsen is in custody, you’ll get your answers. I’ll see to it. I’m sorry you think I put Kinsey’s life in jeopardy. But the story wasn’t mine to tell. I understand how you feel though. Believe me. You love Kinsey. Have you told her that by the way?” When Scott saw the deer-in-the-headlights look on Logan’s face he had his answer. “Of course not, not Logan Donnelly, man of a thousand different moods and none of them good.”
“I’d planned on it.” Frustrated, Logan ran a hand through his hair, dropped into one of the plastic chairs. “I even bought a ring. I’m going to be a father. Me of all people? Can you believe that?”
“Why not?
“What if I’m no good at this father thing? My dad certainly wasn’t.”
“Are you really that screwed up, Logan? Think about it before you answer. You’ve discovered you’re capable of loving the right woman. That’s huge. Finding out what happened to Megan, restoring the lighthouse, those things brought you back here. But it’s Kinsey who will keep you here.”
It was twelve long hours later before Kinsey’s came around.
Once her eyes blinked open, Kinsey noticed the pounding in her head first. She did her best to focus through her blurred vision to make out Logan sitting in the chair by her bed. He looked sleepy and irritated. She was beginning to believe that the annoyed thing was his defense mechanism.
As soon as he saw her arm move, Logan shot out of the chair and was at her side in two seconds. Picking up her hand, he placed a kiss on the rough and still-red skin of her palm. “When I saw you on the ground…I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Longest twelve hours of my life.”
“Did you get him?”
“Knudsen? Yeah, he’s locked up. And he keeps asking to see me.”
The next day Brent and Ethan Cody escorted Logan along the corridor at the Santa Cruz jail. As the trio walked, they discussed the reason Logan had been summoned.
“Carl wants to talk—but only to you—and since we all want answers this is our best shot at getting them. From everything the guards tell me Carl Knudsen is on the brink of having a Norman Bates moment. He’s been babbling incoherently, going on and on about you, and won’t shut up. That might be because he hasn’t closed his eyes for longer than fifteen minutes since he got here,” Brent explained as he led Logan into the visitor’s room.
The guard hadn’t brought Knudsen out yet so Logan stood there in the stark white atmosphere having second thoughts. “Maybe I’m not the best one to do this,” Logan admitted.
“You’re the only one who can to do this,” Brent told him.
“Don’t be nervous. Just sit down and see what he wants, let him talk, m
aybe he’ll let slip something we can use. When they bring him in, just pick up the black phone there on the wall to talk to him,” Ethan directed.
Logan took his seat in front of the glass. If only he’d gotten his hands on Knudsen before now. “I wouldn’t say I’m nervous exactly. More like furious. Every time I think of him knocking Kinsey around, I’d like to get him alone for five damn minutes. Maybe that would be time better spent.”
“You want him to give up Megan and the other girls? This is the best way to get that,” Brent told him.
About that time the door opened. The guard brought a disheveled Knudsen in, cuffed and chained. Logan couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
The man on the other side of the Plexiglas didn’t resemble the pharmacist Logan had seen around town for the past three months.
This Carl Knudsen had wild eyes that darted around the cubicle like he expected someone to appear out of thin air and knife him. His hair stood up in spiky points. The look might’ve worked for Brad Pitt. But on Carl, it gave him an air of crazy. He resembled a wild animal waiting for the pack to go for the throat. He had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. In two short days he looked as though he’d aged ten years and gone completely mad.
And that just pissed Logan off. He could just see a judge sending Knudsen to a mental hospital instead of San Quentin.
Brent was right. If he wanted to learn the truth, this might be his one and only chance. He didn’t dare blow it now.
When Carl sat down, the guard was the one who picked up the phone and handed it to the inmate, then motioned for Logan to do the same on the other side.
Logan lifted the receiver. The first thing he heard was Knudsen’s labored breathing.
And then Logan saw it. Or rather them. All of them.
Scott stood behind Knudsen along with a line of young teen girls of various ages. He recognized some of them by the photos in the police reports. Carly Radigan, Angela Fetterman, Janie Shively, Rebecca Linseed, Aurella Gonzales, Penny Hargrove, Kimmie Pederson, Belinda Truitt, and Sandra Flowers. Behind the glass wall, behind Knudsen, the girls stood staring back at Logan. But the count was off.
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