Sipping large cups of coffee, Reed and Marina went through Sandra’s statement line by line. Near the end Sandra had been asked to account for her whereabouts on the nights that Aubrey Russell, Colton Edwards and Elliot Washington had been killed. She’d had outpatient surgery on the night Elliot had been killed. It was highly unlikely that she’d killed Elliot Washington.
“Highly unlikely, but not impossible,” Reed murmured. “I’ll check with SaintCloud to see if what they found at the building matches with what they found with the other victims.”
While Reed made the call, Marina paced, trying to ignore the unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. Resources had been pulled away from protecting the serial killer’s potential victims but she’d talked to them and asked them to lay low and be careful until the task force was certain that the serial killer had been caught. She heard an urgent note creep into Reed’s tone.
“What? Are you sure?”
Turning, she came close and tried to listen.
“Anything else?” Bracing, Reed looked as if someone had thrown a glass of water in his face. He grew more intense by the second.
Marina stood close, clenching and unclenching her fists and only catching tantalizing bits of the conversation.
Reed finished and hung up the phone. “The knife Sandra used isn’t the same type as the knife used by the serial killer and the wounds themselves are different. Sandra jabbed Gerry with the knife in the stomach and abdomen. The serial killer jabbed and pulled the knife through the organs of the other victims…”
“Shit!” Marina bit her lip. She’d known something wasn’t right with Sandra as the serial killer. “Who’s the next victim?”
“Harrison Hicks,” Reed bit out.
Marina called Hicks’ office and discovered that he’d taken some time off.
“We’d better get over there.” Marina pulled open a drawer and retrieved her purse.
Reed grabbed his keys. “At least we didn’t announce that the serial killer had been caught. Of course by now, the real serial killer would have noticed that the surveillance had been dropped on the potential victims.”
The ride to Harrison’s home was short and tense. They’d called on the way and gotten no answer. The neat house was locked and Harrison’s car was gone. Another call, this time to the surveillance team, and they discovered that Harrison had planned a trip to his cabin near the Blackwell Forest Preserve near Collins, Illinois. He’d even talked John Stuart, the next potential victim, into coming along.
Reed jotted down the address and the directions. It was a five-and-a-half-hour drive. They tried dialing the cabin phone number, but it seemed to be out of order. Neither Hicks nor Stuart was answering their cell phones.
“I don’t like the way this is turning out,” Marina confided as they turned the car toward the Blackwell Forest Preserve. “If the serial killer has been watching them, she can easily knock them both off without any witnesses.”
“Hey, our careers aren’t in the toilet yet,” Reed admonished. “We could always alert the local police, but we’re not sure that anything’s wrong.”
Trying to get herself to relax, Marina agreed. “Let’s just go and see for ourselves. I don’t mind using some of my personal time or getting stuck for tonight. We could drive back in the morning. After almost losing Gerry, I’m not sure our luck’s going to hold.”
Reed gave her the look. “It’s not luck. It’s investigative analysis, skill and timing. We make a good team, Marina.”
She let herself smile at that. “Yes, we do.”
Reed insisted on doing all the driving. They stopped only to use the public bathrooms and to pick up the fast-food they ate on the road.
It was getting dark when Reed turned the car up a trail and arrived at the cabin. The lights were on inside, but no one sat on the porch swing behind the screens.
“How do you want to play this?” Marina asked, noting that Reed had parked the car behind a line of trees just out of sight of the cabin.
He checked his gun. “I’ll go first.”
“We’re a team,” she reminded him.
“Yes, but I think it’s better if the people in the cabin think I’m alone, at least until we’re sure everything’s okay. We don’t need to present two threats right off.”
Marina put a hand on his arm. “Let me go first. Women are less threatening, especially to another woman.”
Reed tossed her an impatient look. “I’m a cop, Marina. This is what we do.”
“I’m an FBI agent. This is my case, too,” she replied stubbornly.
They stood at an impasse for several seconds.
“Marina,” he intoned in that deep voice, dragging out the syllables.
Against her better judgment, Marina relented. “Okay, if you insist, but next time you give in.”
He didn’t add a comeback, but his lips twisted with amusement. She knew that he was not going to give in easily. Biting her lip, Marina wanted to kiss him, to wish him luck, but that would only clue him in to the fact that she was afraid for him.
Reed opened the driver’s door and got out. “Stay here. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, come and get me.”
With fear for Reed eating at her, she watched him check out the front and back of the cabin.
Unable to stand the suspense any longer, she got out of the car and edged closer to the structure.
Reed stood in front of the cabin, knocking on the door. He froze momentarily, and she knew he’d become aware that she was close.
A tall, attractive blonde in a dark tunic and slacks with gold sandals answered the door. Her true features were hard to discern beneath the thick layers of a perfect makeup job, but enough remained to tease Marina’s memory. Marina studied her, wondering where she’d seen her before.
In the background, Marina saw John Stuart sitting at a table inside. Where was Harrison Hicks? Marina stared at the blonde, wondering if she could be their serial killer. If so, she could have already killed Harrison.
Reed and the blonde exchanged words. Marina couldn’t hear what they said, but she could see almost everything. Suddenly they were struggling over something. Focusing, she saw that it was a gun. Two shots rang out. One went wild. The other happened when the gun was so close that it had to have hit one of them.
Marina’s heart pumped double-time. Who shot who? Studying them, she prayed for Reed to be all right.
Both Reed and the woman were still standing. Marina drew her gun and edged closer, weighing options. Fear for Reed crawled up from her belly and crowded her throat. Her angle on Reed and the woman changed and she saw that both were still holding on to the gun. Even worse, Marina didn’t have a clear shot.
Marina struggled to breathe. She realized that she’d been holding her breath. Her only comfort was the fact that Reed was still conscious and talking.
She had to do something to save Reed. Marina brought the pistol up.
Reed stumbled and went down.
The impact slammed into Marina with the force of a category five hurricane. Dear God, am I going to lose Reed forever? Marina squeezed off a shot.
The bullet scorched a path through the woman’s hair. With a yelp, she jumped.
“Move away from him,” Marina ordered in a tone laced with steel.
The woman complied, easing behind the cover of the cabin door. As Marina edged closer, the woman pushed it closed.
Dear God! Marina sprinted forward and leaped onto the porch. Crouching, she leaned over Reed. His eyes were open. “I’m okay,” he told her.
“No, you’re not,” she snapped, tears burning her eyelids. There was a rapidly spreading red stain near the bottom of his shirt. “Is that a stomach wound?”
“Below that,” he rasped. “Intestines, I think, and it hurts like hell.”
“Can you shoot if I put the gun in your hands?”
“Sure, but I won’t be moving too fast.”
Drawing his gun, Marina put it into his hands. “I’ve got to try to s
ave Harrison and John.”
Reed nodded.
Marina turned and shot out one of the tires on the blue Ford parked in the yard. Then she pushed the cabin door open.
A door opened and running footsteps echoed in the back of the cabin.
Keeping to cover as much as possible, she made it to the table. John sat in a chair facing sideways, glassy-eyed and unmoving. He’d been drugged, but was otherwise not hurt. Harrison was nowhere in sight. She didn’t have time to look for him now.
A shot echoed from the porch.
Reed! Did she finish him off? Marina came running.
He was lying on the porch with a big grin. “I think I winged her.” He pointed to one of the trails. “She went running that way.”
Marina maneuvered herself to the edge of the porch and dropped down behind the safety of a bush. “I’m going after her. John’s inside drugged, but I can’t find Harrison.”
“Get going. I’ll hold up this end,” Reed said. “I’ll call for help.”
“You sure?” Marina asked, hating to leave him vulnerable and half afraid he might not be alive when she got back.
“Woman, do your job and quit worrying about me. It ain’t my time yet.”
She pressed her mouth to Reed’s and kissed him deep and hard. He tasted like the first time. He tasted like forever. “I love you,” she added solemnly as she ended the kiss, just in case she never got the chance to say it again.
“I know,” he answered almost smugly, then added, “I fought it, but I never stopped loving you, Marina. Now go.”
She took off, not letting herself enjoy the sweetness of the moment. In the darkness of the trail ahead she saw movement. Marina headed straight for it, the promise of love strengthening her.
As she walked deeper along the trail, she was grateful for the sensible walking shoes she’d worn for work. The path was twisted and everything from jutting tree roots to cut stones, rocks, plants and gravel formed obstacles on the path. Marina’s steps were nimble and sure from hours spent running and hiking. She resisted the urge to use her flashlight. That would make a target.
Every now and then she paused and listened to the sounds of the night and the sounds of the blond woman making her way down the path. Since she wasn’t familiar with the area, she didn’t know how long she would be on the path. She sensed that this could go on for miles.
Marina imagined her up ahead, keeping all that blond hair away from tree branches and bushes, scratching the skin left bare by her gold sandals on rocks and gravel. The noises up ahead stopped.
Marina stopped, too. Then she continued silently on all the grass she could find. Something hard smashed into the tree behind her. With a gasp she dropped down to her knees. The blonde had figured out her position and was shooting at her.
Bringing up her own pistol, Marina aimed and fired a couple of shots at the spot where she thought the shots had come from. A quickly silenced yelp followed the impact of one of the bullets. She couldn’t believe her luck.
Move in and try to take her or wait to make sure she’s down? Marina debated silently. Mentally marking the spot of the lucky shot, she inched forward on her hands and knees till she’d reached the relative safety of a new hiding place. She lay quietly for several minutes, listening for the blonde.
Marina was thinking of going to check the woman’s body for a pulse when something rustled in the dark. She listened, as the sound continued, becoming harder to hear as seconds ticked by. Then the sound of falling gravel reached her ears. The woman was getting away.
Barreling out of her hiding place, Marina kept so low to the ground that her knees began to ache with the strain. She headed back to the trail, aware that the woman had a head start.
Up ahead, more gravel fell as the woman ran down the trail. Marina followed through dense foliage. She couldn’t see much, so she used instinct, touch and sound.
Realizing that she no longer heard the sounds of someone else on the trail, Marina froze. Something hot zipped by her face and slammed into the tree next to her.
Marina hit the ground next to the trail. Tired of this cat-and-mouse game, she brought the pistol up once more. When she saw a bit of yellow up ahead she didn’t hesitate. She fired twice.
Checking the area for movement and sound, it took a while to get to where she’d seen, aimed and discharged her gun. She found nothing but bushes, rocks, trees and grass. Frustrated, Marina went back to shadowing the edges of the trail.
The chase continued for several minutes. Despite being in shape from time in the gym and aerobic exercises, Marina’s knees and chest burned. The trail rose and wound, inclined and fell. The woman fired at her and she fired back.
Peering into the darkness, Marina wasn’t sure what she saw. Had she shot the blonde? An owl hooted in the dark, the eerie sound filling the relative silence. And there was another almost imperceptible sound behind the noise the owl made. She strained her ears.
Realization dawned on Marina. The blonde was using the noise the owl made to make her escape. She hurried down the path.
Marina aimed the pistol at the woman revealed through sketchy patches of moonlight, through the trees and bushes. She tried to fire and her weapon merely clicked. She was out of bullets. Stowing the weapon in its holster she focused on finding another way to get the blonde.
Around a bend she saw lights filtering through the foliage. They were nearing the end of the trail. Sucking in a breath she sped up, pushing herself and keeping to the edge of the path as much as possible. The woman hadn’t fired the gun in a while, but that didn’t mean she was out of bullets.
Ahead, the woman made the bend and started the decline toward the lights. Behind her, Marina was desperate. She’d gained on the woman, but not enough. She didn’t even want to think of what would happen if this killer got away.
At the end of the trail just below them, a pair of high-beam headlights suddenly switched on. The woman slowed, covering her eyes with one hand.
Marina launched herself from the top of the bend to downward path. She landed on the woman, bringing her down and winding them both.
Twisting on the ground, the woman tried to reach the gun she’d dropped. Marina used her fists, punching her in the back of the head and chin. The woman took it in stride, trying to elbow Marina as she dragged them both toward the gun.
This woman was strong and more muscular than any Marina had ever encountered. She couldn’t rid herself of the notion that something wasn’t right. She grabbed the woman’s hair in an effort to pull her head back. Marina yelped as all the hair came off in her hand. Dropping it, she realized that it was a blond wig.
The woman’s hand closed on the gun.
With both fists Marina pounded the back of the woman’s head, smashing her face into the gravel. The woman grunted, then moaned in pain. Still her fingers curved around the grip.
Marina pounded the woman’s head once more and twisted her other arm behind her back with all the force she could muster. The gun went off. The bullet traveled away from them.
Maintaining her position on the woman’s back, Marina applied pressure to the woman’s well-toned arm, pushing the elbow upward. She heard the gun click. It was empty.
The woman dropped the gun.
Using techniques she’d learned at the academy, Marina caught the woman’s wrist and forced her to her feet.
The woman’s face was cut and bleeding. The thick makeup had smeared, giving her face a cartoon masklike appearance. She seemed dazed. Both women were still breathing hard. Marina made an effort to focus on keeping the woman secured and getting her into custody.
It was hard not to stare at the face. She knew this person. The secret of the woman’s identity hovered, just out of reach. Marina ground her teeth in frustration.
The high beams at the end of the trail switched to regular. Marina recognized Reed’s unmarked car. As she approached with her prisoner, the passenger door opened and he eased out. There was a lopsided grin on his face. “Good catch,” h
e muttered.
She focused on his face. “Where’s John?” she asked, accepting the pair of handcuffs he offered and placing them on the woman’s wrists.
“He’s in the back,” Reed answered proudly.
Marina quickly glanced at Reed. He was actually on his feet. How had he managed that? John had been drugged and was most likely unconscious and Reed had been hurt enough to stay prone on the cabin porch.
“I couldn’t leave you out here with no backup,” Reed confessed.
A Serial Affair Page 16