Drew's voice came through, loud and clear. Detective Briggs punched the speaker button so they could both talk to him. "Your neighbor's yard has been swept clear. We removed all signs there was ever an intruder. We should hear something about the trace on the getaway vehicle." He paused. "Brit?"
"Yes, Drew?"
"Are you okay?" His concern was touching but she wished … she wished she had Sam by her side. Detective Briggs had shown surprising consideration. She almost liked the man. Sam was making arrangements to keep her safe, but she had no intention of sitting still while the men did all the work.
There had to be something she could do. She had every intention of being here when old Douglas tried again to contact her. For some reason she was sure he would, even though she believed he hadn't recognized her.
"Brit? Answer me or I'm coming over there, now. Briggs? What's wrong with her?"
"I'm fine, I was just thinking."
"Well, don't!" Sam glared at her.
Detective Briggs scowled.
"Don't." Drew joined the other men.
Brit glared at the men, wanted to tell them she wasn't helpless. They thought they didn't need her help. They'd learn.
* * * *
Douglas hated to leave the prime piece of ass locked in the bathroom. He checked the kitchen in the deserted house. The soft drinks and beer he found in the refrigerator wouldn't go far, but the cold beer was just what he needed now. He'd leave a thank you note. Ha! Maybe he'd offer a soft drink to the beautiful Julie. He'd let her stew first.
He found matches in one drawer and a real estate broker's cards in another. The closets were basically empty, but he found a not so clean blanket in one. Someone must expect to return for the furniture. There were phones attached to the walls. No dial tone. He couldn't call out. Julie couldn't either.
Settling in a chair by a window, Douglas willed himself to relax. Cars passed the house without slowing. He checked his watch. Soon he'd need to call the teacher's phone and leave a message. He wanted to let her know he had her friend, if she didn't already. He couldn't put his finger on what had gone wrong today.
After all his careful planning, he'd been bested by two females. All he'd wanted was information. He'd been greedy and that had caused him to lose his vantage point. His mother would love that one. She'd never thought he was worth a damn, anyway.
Sweet memories of Mama.
"Douglas, you bastard, you can't do anything right." His birth certificate was testimony to his heritage. His father's last name didn't match his.
"You can't keep your prick in your pants. I found the dirty magazines in your room. You're just like your good-for-nothing father." He imagined his mother's nagging voice.
She'd slapped him the day he'd finally let her have it. "Well, you never married him and you had me because you screwed a married man. So that must make you a bitch." She'd acted shocked and hit him. She'd probably wanted to for a long time. He hadn't hit her back, but he'd had the last word. "Slut! You made me." The fact that she'd gotten religion in her later years hadn't made his life any easier.
He couldn't dwell on his mother. He'd put her in a nursing home since she'd lost her mind after overdosing on her medicine. He'd have to pay her a visit after this was over.
He pushed away the disturbing images. There were mistakes that needed fixing, like the job he'd botched. He needed revenge. Maybe if he'd waited a while longer, his prey would've shown up. Maybe he'd have picked up some piece of information that would have led him to the teacher or her boyfriend. He could kill his hostage. Or he could let Julie go and follow her. She could find out where the Roberts woman had gone – Nah. He'd put out his bait and reel his victims in.
First things first. He'd check on Julie, then find a phone. He was saving the stolen cell phone for a call later. He needed to ditch this car for another one, in case someone had made the one he'd driven away from the neighborhood. He tossed the empty beer can at a corner. He was relaxed and focused. Nothing would go wrong again.
Could there be squatters staying here? Or teens, even? Or could this be a drug drop?
* * * *
Julie washed her face at the sink. She'd have to be ready when "Douglas" came for her next time. If she could find something to hit him, she'd stand a chance of escaping.
He hadn't frisked her, thank goodness. She twisted and removed her cell phone from her jeans pocket and opened it. She punched it on. Shit! No signal. How far had they driven? She'd been out of it, but for how long?
If only someone had let her know what was happening with Brit and Sam, she wouldn't have panicked at the answering machine message. Well, considering if only… wouldn't do any more good than Why didn't I?…would.
She slid the small phone into her jeans pocket. At least she had a toilet and drinking water. Maybe someone would come by and scare Douglas off. Though the place looked deserted, the FOR SALE sign would surely attract some attention, although the tall weeds suggested it had been on the market for a long time. The owners hadn't finished moving all their stuff. Maybe they intended for the new owners to trash what they didn't want.
She heard Douglas's footsteps seconds after she'd hid her phone. How lucky was she today? Not at all, it seemed. She sat on the floor beside the tub and rested her head on her knees. Let him think she was tired or sleepy.
"Ah, Julie." He shook his head at her like one would a child. "Aren't you feeling well? I didn't mean to hit you so hard." He squatted beside her. She tried not to let him see her revulsion when he touched the tender place on her cheek. His hand trailed down her neck to her collarbone. A tremble escaped before she could steel herself against it. God, she hated him!
"Like that, my sweet girl?" he purred. "I know how to please a woman. I'll have to show you later. Your skin is so smooth." His palm slid into her blouse, gliding over the swell of her breasts.
His obvious excitement frightened her. Sweat beaded his upper lip. His breathing accelerated.
She wanted to vomit. She couldn't. She had to gain his trust.
He grinned at the catch in her breathing. "Like it?" His free hand slowly unbuttoned her blouse. "Lace, I like lacey bras." He slipped the front catch loose.
When his head bent to kiss her nipples, she wished for something to hit him over the head. Could she hurt him if she slammed her palm into his ear? He nipped her gently. How far would she have to let him go?
Douglas wanted to spend the afternoon with this woman. He wanted to show her he could make her enjoy being with him. It had been a long time since he'd been with a woman he hadn't had to pay or force. He wished he could lead Julie to a bedroom and lay her on a bed with clean sheets and pillows.
He wished he could do things normally. He'd show her every trick he'd ever learned and she'd pleasure him. He'd get off without hurting her. She'd get off on him. She'd make him feel like a man, not a monster.
Most of the time he hadn't minded being a monster. Normal sex hadn't done it for him in the past. He'd been aroused only by causing pain and fear. For just this once, he wanted to make someone like him.
His blood thundered in his head. His erection was painful in a good way. He felt like a normal person, not like the freak his mother had called him.
Reality sank in. He had to get himself and his hostage to a safe place. He'd finish this ill-fated job and take this lovely, perfect woman away with him. He stopped tasting her fragrant breasts and the closeness that threatened to unman him. He cleared his throat.
She mustn't know how she made him feel or she could use it against him. Women did like that.
"I brought you something to drink." He picked up the drink can he'd put on the floor so he could touch her. "It was in the refrigerator. Gotta leave to make some calls. I'll be back when I figure out where we can go to hide and be safe together. I wanted you the day we met in the grocery store. If I hadn't been so tied up with an assignment, I'd have asked you out then."
"You? No way." She scowled at him.
"Looks like
fate brought you to me." The jerk stood and took steps toward the door. "Be a good girl while I'm gone, my lovely. Be here when I get back?" He stopped and looked back over his shoulder at her. His grin creeped her out. "Oh, yes, you don't really have a choice, do you?"
The door clicked shut. She heard dragging sounds and knew he had blocked the door with some piece of furniture. Julie heard another door shut farther away.
She retched into the toilet, heaving until her throat hurt and sides ached. How could she ever have thought this monster was cute? He'd looked totally different then.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Waiting was the hard part. Briggs had called in his report. He and Sam and Drew had strategy conversations, the kind that left Brit and Esther out. That suited Brit. She and Esther were in the kitchen preparing sandwiches and discussing the way the males ignored the women's suggestions and input. Why were women always in the kitchen? Maybe because it gave them something to keep busy. If the cops had a woman partner, would she be relegated to the kitchen?
"How could they forget that I'm in this more than anyone else?" Brit sliced tomatoes onto a plate.
Esther washed lettuce and drained it. "They haven't forgotten. They are just being macho. They do that to me all the time. It's a man thing."
"Well, I'm the real target and the bastard has my best friend. They needn't plan on leaving me out!" She put cold cuts on a platter.
"Hey, don't feel bad. They won't let Sam go with them when they head out. He's not police, either." Esther's smile made Brit feel better.
"Time to call the guys to feed their faces. We don't know when Drake will call about Julie."
"He'll be out to get to you for tricking him." Brit had to smile at the memory of the stupid man when Esther had hit him where it hurt. She felt her smile droop when she remembered his cruel hands. The things he'd threatened to do to her made her throat go dry. Her heart raced. She would see him taken down!
She reached for the ringing phone. "Let the machine get it." Sam, Drew, and Briggs reminded from the living room.
Esther and Brit were in the room with the machine by the time her message ended. The anticipation in the room was thick enough to cut.
"Hey, teacher. I've got something you want. You might want to get in touch with me. Oh, that's right. I can't give you a number 'cause I don't want you to find me! Maybe you'll stop playing your stupid games. I'll call again at seven o'clock tonight. If you aren't there, too bad for your friend!"
The dial tone was deafening.
"Well? So, now what?" Brit looked at the know-it-all men.
"You'll have to be here to take the call and keep him talking," Drew answered.
Briggs looked unhappy about letting Drew do the cop thing. Drew must outrank him somehow. "Yes, Ma'am, I'll be here, also. If you can keep him talking, we might be able to send someone where he is."
Sam put his arm around Brit as if to comfort her. "Got the number from caller ID." He handed the paper to Briggs
"I'll go call this in." Briggs nodded, left the room and called the station to check the trace. He came back in the room, "A pay phone. Big surprise."
"Why don't we have something to eat?" Esther motioned toward the kitchen. "So, brother." She took Drew by the arm to steer him toward food. "Have you guys checked the car tag with the DMV?"
"Still looking. The tag is registered to a man who died a year ago." Drew grabbed slices of wheat bread and a knife. "This one is taking a little extra work. Our man is shrewd, a real pro, with connections. Seems he spent a lot of time in the prison infirmary." He spread mustard. "Several calls were traced to the pay phone there. He borrowed someone's cell phone, too."
"We alerted all patrolmen to look for vehicles like the one that was parked across the street, but finding it could take a while. He's likely changed vehicles by now."
Brit remained quiet. Where was Julie? How was she? She'd check Julie's car for her cell phone. Could she possibly have it with her? That would be too good to be true. If she could just let someone know where to find her, without getting caught. Her phone was small enough to hide in a pocket. She wouldn't tell the men about her theory yet. She'd just bide her time.
"Something wrong, Teach?" Sam interrupted her thoughts.
"No, just thinking,"
* * * *
Julie had tried not to anger her captor when he returned to free her from the bathroom. She'd barely rewound the toilet paper roll, hiding her first message. Lipstick made a messy writing medium, but she had nothing better. Please let a woman reach for the paper, a nosey woman who checks everything.
"You were so thoughtful to bring me something to eat." Julie smiled at the man who had insisted she call him Douglas. Can't call him the names I've thought.
"I couldn't let my lady go hungry, could I?" He looked at her as though he thought she should know that she was his.
He spread a dirty blanket on the hall floor and opened bags of deli food. He fed her slaw and potato salad from the spoon he used. At least that would mean he hadn't doctored it to make her sick or kill her. Probably didn't want her to have even a plastic weapon. She'd have liked to refuse the food. Who knows when she'd be allowed to eat again, if ever?
She tried not to flinch when Douglas wiped her mouth with a napkin. He gathered the refuse to take with them and toss somewhere else. No clues, or so he said.
"Time to go." He allowed her a bathroom stop and a chance to wash her face. He hadn't closed the door, but he hadn't stood where she could see him, either.
"Bracelet time." He was gentle with the cuffs this time. "Be a good girl and the trip back to the car will be easier."
She wanted to fight him, to scream and make a fuss. She noticed no one in sight outside. Her heart sank when she saw the vehicle in the carport. The old station wagon looked like it had been rescued from a demolition derby, too late. He removed his bracelet to put her inside. He gave her an old sweatshirt to put on, then cuffed her to the door again.
"Careful, now." He shut the door gently.
He pulled an old sweatshirt like hers over his head. He got into the car, sliding behind the steering wheel. "I know this vehicle isn't much, but no one will notice us. Here, put this cap on."
Her cap advertised John Deere. His was a Robins Air Force Base cap. No one would recognize either of them
"We're off." He backed carefully into the deserted street.
He drove carefully and at the speed limit. He ran no yellow lights or stop signs. Old Douglas had been far too attentive for Julie's taste. He acted like he cared about her. He had treated her like a lover. God! How much would he expect from her when they arrived where he was heading? Julie shivered.
Douglas was looking at her. "Cold?" He turned his attention back to the road. "I could get you a jacket from the back or I could turn up the heater for a while." He leered in her direction. "We'll be someplace safe soon and I'll warm you."
She squirmed in the seat.
"Julie?" He raised his eyebrow and turned his head toward her. Some people might call him handsome. His rotten soul shone through. She knew the real man, the rapist.
"It's nothing. I need to find a restroom, please."
"Now, Julie," his tone was reproving. "You know I can't risk having anyone see us before I finish my business. Besides, it shouldn't take more than twenty minutes more.
"Twenty minutes?" She tried to keep her voice small, almost pitiful. "I'll try to hold it."
As desperate as she felt, he might have said hours instead of minutes.
"I'm looking for a gas station with outside restrooms," he assured her.
He made a turnoff from the busy highway. The battered sign read Peach County. They'd be in the boonies soon. He finally pulled off the road at an old style, two-pump gas station. "Julie, I want to let you go into this restroom, but I can't let you talk to anyone."
"But I promise …."
He eased around to the back of the faded white cinderblock building.
Julie had been desperate b
ut now she was even more so when they rolled over the broken blacktop lot. The vehicles they'd seen in the front had been old or camouflage decorated. Their owners likely believed a man should be allowed to jerk a woman around.
Douglas parked the nondescript station wagon out of sight of the front of the station. He cut the engine, then moved so quickly she screamed.
The gag he stuffed in her mouth tasted of lint. She glared at him.
"Sorry, my girl, I can't have you alerting anyone. I'd have to hurt anyone who interfered with us. Even if you tried to be good there is no way you wouldn't be remembered. You're the kind of woman who gets attention. I'll go inside and get the key."
She wanted to cut off the man's balls and feed 'em to him. She struggled with the handcuffs. They were still bound to the armrest. Within minutes, she saw him walking back toward her. He held the wooden paddle in front of his face, like a trophy. She could read the label easily. He unlocked the rusty looking door. Lad--s had been written with paint but it had worn partly off.
He laughed. "I told the man inside my wife was sick and we needed to use their facilities. I intimated you were in the family way and not happy about it." He opened her door. She nearly fell out as she followed the handcuffs. Douglas unlocked them. She glared at him. He pulled her to the open door.
Please don't let him follow me inside. He didn't. His bulk blocked the door before he reached over her head and pulled the string to flick on the light. She almost wished he had left her in the dark. The walls were clean but the sink was stained and rusty. The toilet seat was broken. Douglas slid a knife blade to her neck. "You can take out the gag, but if I hear you yelling for help I'll kill anyone who comes."
She nodded. She wouldn't yell. She had other plans. The off-kilter door shut with a bang. His footsteps echoed on the gravel. He must be headed for the phone booth she'd spotted.
Slipping her cell phone from her pants pocket, she punched the power button. Reception. Please let Brit's cell phone be on. One ring. She unsnapped her jeans. Two rings. The third ring.
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