15 Seconds

by Andrew Gross

  “Then crazier,” Carrie insisted. “You hear me, don’t you, Henry? I need you to tell me okay.”

  “Okay,” he agreed. But there was something more than acquiescence in his voice. She couldn’t point her finger on it, but it was deeper. She felt it. She saw the exit, and readied herself to turn around under the underpass and head back the other way.

  “You wait for me, goddammit!”—stopping at the light and plugging the address into the GPS.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  The tiny backwoods towns all melded into one. Jessup. Statesboro. Waynesboro. Places I’d never heard of and might never again.

  I drove in a daze, fueled by my dread over Hallie and the anticipation of finding her and what I would do when I got there. Once I knew for sure that that’s where Hofer actually was, we could turn it over to the police or the FBI. They were the best chances of getting Hallie out of this.

  I knew Hofer didn’t really want Hallie—he was using her to lure me there!

  Around 4 P.M., Carrie called again and I seemed to have about a forty-minute lead on her. I tried not to go too far above the speed limits. All I needed was to get pulled over in some local speed trap. And in a stolen car, no less!

  Finally, I began seeing signs for Acropolis.

  That’s when my blood really started to race and I realized I had no idea what I’d be finding there or even what I was getting myself into. I just prayed I’d find my daughter alive.

  The GPS told me to turn off onto Seaver Lake Road before I reached the actual town. Part of me expected to run right into a gathering of cop cars and flashing lights, from Carrie’s call. But there was nothing out here but open fields, and animal pens and barns. Barely even a road sign.

  My nerves began to fray. Hofer had said he would call. So far he hadn’t. Did that mean that something bad had happened? What if I was too late? What if Amanda was wrong, and he wasn’t even here?

  Seaver Lake Road was bumpy and rutted, with weather-beaten trailers intermittently dotting the sides. Flatbed trucks and old-clunker vans pulled up in front of them. Dogs ran out to the road, barking after me. A couple of people who were around stared after the car as I drove by.

  At the lake, about a mile and a half down, I ran into Cayne Road.

  I was here. I’d never exactly played the hero in life. I played baseball in college, but never got the game-winning hit. I worked on boobs and eyes, never saved a life on the table, never had to risk my own life.

  Until now. I was about to face off against someone who had killed, someone who was driven by hate and revenge. I began to think about how terrified and panicked Hallie must be feeling, held captive by someone who was surely crazy. And that fueled my resolve. I still didn’t see any sign that anyone had arrived at the scene ahead of me. I thought maybe I should call Carrie and let her know I was here, but I decided just to go on. Hofer had no idea I’d be coming. I figured that was the one thing I actually had going for me. Surprise. I decided I would just get there and make certain they were actually here. Then I’d wait for Carrie.

  Hang together, Hallie, I said to myself, seeing a weathered ranch-style house at the end of the long, rutted drive and a mailbox with 3936 written on it.

  It won’t be long now.

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  It might once have been nice; it might once have been the home of an actual family. But scrub and tall weeds now covered the yellowed lawn, which clearly hadn’t been cut in years. A wire fence bordered the property, sagging at spots where the wind had knocked it down, a wooden gate hanging from its post. It bordered a dried-up field of what might have been hay, and the back was ringed with dense woods.

  Amanda said the bank owned it now, but if they did, this was one property they had written off their ledger long ago.

  Farther on, on the shoulder of the road, I saw a blue Mazda, the same Mazda I had seen pulling away from Martinez’s police car. The same one, I was sure, that Carrie had found on the tapes of both murder scenes.

  Hofer was here.

  Which meant Hallie was around here too.

  I left the Buick on the edge of the road, out of site from the house. I had no idea if Hofer was inside, or if he’d seen me drive up. Or if he was deep in the woods in that shed Amanda had described.

  This is it, Henry . . .

  I thought about calling Carrie, but she would only tell me to wait, and my blood was pumping. So I went around the side, hugging the thick brush to stay out of sight. I got about fifty feet from the house, and didn’t see any lights. What I did see was a hefty Realtor lock on the front door, making me doubt that Hofer was inside.

  I continued around to the back, searching for a clearing in the woods.

  I saw a path leading straight from the weed-filled backyard, but I worried I might be spotted if I took it. There was a rotted-out jungle gym in back, and an aboveground pool, filled with crushed pinecones and weeds.

  I crept around the side. Twigs crackled under my shoes as I made my own path through the woods, ripping branches out of my way. I didn’t know what I would do if I found this shed—only that my daughter was likely to be in it, as was the sonovabitch who had taken her.

  You just go do what you have to do to get her back, Amanda had told me. The dead spark in her eyes was unmistakable. He’s got a host of hate inside him.

  I pushed through the brush until I didn’t see any sign of the house behind me. My shirt, the one I had worn to the prison only hours earlier, clung to me with sweat.

  Then I saw the tiny wooden shed deep in the woods.

  No light on inside it.

  No sound coming from it.

  But I knew they were there. Call it a father’s radar.

  My heart started to pound. It had a slanted roof and one window and what looked like a storage hut attached to it, as Amanda had described.

  The door was slightly ajar, left open maybe in the hope of a breeze to ease the stifling heat. And I knew that’s where he was. With my little girl. Only thirty yards away.

  I saw a rusted metal pipe on the grass. I picked it up. It was covered with moss and crusted rust.

  As I held it, it occurred to me that we all have a certain capacity for violence if you dig down deep enough. If someone threatens what really matters in your life . . . If you went past fear and worry and dread . . .

  And Hofer had dug down as deep as was possible in me.

  I knew exactly what I would do with that violence if I got the chance.

  I went back into the woods until I was sure I was out of sight and pulled out my phone.

  I relished saying the words I’d wanted to utter since this whole sick and crazy business started:

  “I’ve got him, Carrie.”

  Chapter Seventy

  Sonovabitch . . .

  Vance leaned against the window, smoking, and suddenly caught sight of Henry Steadman, not forty yards away, hiding in the woods.

  Well, whaddaya know . . .

  Vance was a man who could read you the name off a dog’s collar at a hundred yards at night, while Steadman probably wouldn’t know what breed it was if it was sitting on his lap. But there he was, nonetheless—Vance was sure of it—peering at him.

  How the hell did he find his way here . . . ?

  Vance put out the smoke, went over to the storage closet, and unlocked the door. It was dark and damp in the cramped space, and the girl was both surprised and clearly frightened. She came out kicking and scratching at him. My, my, such a pretty little thing.

  “What’s going on? No, get off of me!”

  “No whimpering now, darlin’,” Vance said, pinning her arms. “You’re gonna get to see your daddy just like I told you. Only a little sooner than we thought.”

  “Daddy!”

  Her eyes stretched wide in surprise and Vance could see that she was just about to shout his name, so he hit her across the chin and her cute little eyes rolled backward, a stream of blood coming from her lip, and when she sagged in his arms, he picked her up, ro
lled off a length of heavy tape, and stretched it tightly across her mouth.

  “Now scream all you want, angel. But your time’s up. This time it’s for real!”

  He placed her down against a table, and grabbed the length of rope he had especially measured out, and wrapped the girl’s wrists, hog-style, so they were bound in front of her, and then sat her up, a leg on each side of the feeder bench of the circular saw, looping the rope through the winch on the blade’s axle and then tugging, making sure it was all tight.

  He pulled the starter pedal over to where he’d propped her, slumped forward, and gave it a test run with a little pressure.

  The jagged blade whirred and came to life.

  Perfect.

  He went back to the window and peered out again for Steadman. He didn’t see him right then. Which didn’t matter. Didn’t matter how he got here or who he brought along.

  Or how many of them there were.

  He was ready for them all.

  He had separated all the chaff from however much wheat his poor life was ever going to produce. This is all for you, honey, he’d said to Amanda. I did what I said I’d do. I brought them all to their knees. For you. I punished them all who took away what was yours. Your life to live out. Your innocence. I took care of it, darlin’, the only way I know how.

  I took care of it for you, Amanda.

  He heard the girl moan slightly and start to come back to consciousness. Then he picked up his phone and punched in Steadman’s number.

  You want to play it out, Vance thought with a smile, staring out at the trees, listening to the phone ring. He checked his gun.

  All right, then, let’s play it out.

  Chapter Seventy-One

  I tried Carrie twice—but she didn’t pick up. Maybe she was going through a stretch with no reception, which was easy out here in the boonies.

  But just as I hung up, my own phone rang.

  I was about to say, Carrie, listen . . . ! When I saw the caller ID: Hallie Steadman.

  It was him.

  I let it ring, nervous that control of the moment had been wrenched from me, not certain what I should say.

  Then I realized: He doesn’t know I’m here! He’s calling to tell me where to go. I had the advantage after all.

  And I was going to hear my daughter’s voice again!

  I pushed the green button. “Yes.”

  “Hey, Doc, how’s the weather where you are?” Hofer said with a chuckle. “I said I’d be back in touch. So I’m ready for you now. You want your little girl, don’t you?”

  “Let me talk to her,” I said. “You touch a hair on her head, and I’ll kill you myself, Hofer. Put her on.”

  “In a minute. In a minute . . .” he replied. “So where are you now? I think it’s time we meet up again.”

  “Doesn’t matter where I am,” I said. “Put Hallie on.”

  “Well, I hope you’re not too far away,” Hofer said with a drawn-out sigh, “ ’cause you’ll miss all the fun. It’s starting now, Doc. As we speak. I was sure you’d want to hear . . .”

  “What?” I felt my insides gnash together with alarm.

  “Yeah, you heard me. Now. Here, say something to your daddy, honey. He wants to hear that you’re okay . . . If you can even hear her, over this damn saw . . .”

  I heard a chilling, whirring roar start up that sounded like nails being ground up and spit out.

  “Daddy!” Hallie’s voice came on. “He’s going to kill me, Daddy! Daddy, you have to help me, please . . .”

  “Hallie, you just hold on!” I shouted back, my guts wrenching. My fingers wrapped around the metal pipe.

  “Hear her, Doc?” Hofer came back on. “She’s saying you better get here quick, ’cause all the fun . . .” The saw blade started to whir again, and Hofer elevated his voice above it. “It’s happening now!”

  I almost lost it, hearing Hallie’s cries. I couldn’t wait for Carrie anymore.

  She would be too late.

  “Hey,” Hofer said, almost cackling, “don’t you want me to tell you where we are?”

  I didn’t need to know.

  It was happening now!

  I ran. I clicked off the phone and grabbed the pipe, rage and desperation and fear all jumbled up inside me.

  I sprinted out of the woods, heading for the shed’s door.

  I had no idea what I might have to face in there. If Hofer had a gun, he could just blow me away. I figured I had one thing going for me and that was the element of surprise. If I was even figuring . . . I wasn’t thinking of anything except saving my daughter.

  Then I heard her scream.

  I yelled out, “Hallie! God help you if you’ve hurt her. . . .” Tears flashed in my eyes.

  I reached the door, my mind and blood a rampage of wanting to kill him. I bolted through, rearing the pipe above my head, ready to swing at anything that moved.

  I saw Hallie—fear and anguish and now shock all over her beautiful face—bound to a kind of bench. A trickle of blood ran down her chin, but otherwise she seemed okay. For a split second our eyes met and it was one of the happiest sights of my life. But then it all fell apart as she screamed in terror, “Daddy, watch out!”

  I spun, wildly swinging the heavy pipe behind me, hoping to connect with Hofer.

  Instead all I felt was a bludgeoning blow to the back of my skull, and my knees buckling, blackness filling my head. I found myself on the floor. I fixed on my daughter and a biting fear ran through me that I had let her down.

  And then Hofer stepping over me as I blacked out completely.

  “Well, now, we’re just one big happy family now, aren’t we, Doc?”

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  My eyes opened foggily. My head was ringing, the sound alternately loud and pounding, and then distant like in an echo chamber. I didn’t know how much time had passed. I was propped up against a wall. I blinked, pain throbbing in my head—then it all came back to me.

  Hofer.

  Hallie.

  Why I was here. I raised myself up, jolted by this body-shaking spasm of dread.

  Then I heard his voice.

  “I wouldn’t get any ideas, Doc. Not unless you want to see your little girl here dead.”

  The first thing I saw was Hallie, which for a moment felt like heaven to me. She still seemed okay. The next thing was Hofer, positioned directly behind her on the bench, which I suddenly realized was the feeder bench for a circular saw, a gun to the back of my baby’s head.

  She was trembling. A trickle of blood ran down her chin. “Daddy, listen to him. Do what he says. He’s crazy . . .”

  “She’s right. At least, about the ‘listen to him’ part. The rest . . .” He shrugged. “That you’ll have to decide yourself.”

  “Let her go,” I said to him, shifting in pain. I wasn’t bound. Just leaned beside the wall against the leg of a worktable. My eyes shot around, looking for something I might use if I had to. I saw an ax, hanging on a Peg-Board. A hammer. Both were far out of reach. “It’s me you wanted. I’m here. Let her go. She hasn’t done anything to you.”

  “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Doc. In fact, she’s done everything to me. So tell me, just how did you manage to find me?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. “Blind luck.”

  “Don’t push me, Doc.” His face went blank and he dug the gun into the back of Hallie’s skull.

  She winced, shutting her eyes, tears escaping from them. “Daddy, please . . . Don’t let him do it. Please.”

  “No,” I begged. “Hofer, don’t . . . In the name of God . . .”

  He wagged his gun at me. I assumed it was the gun that killed Martinez and Mike. “You oughta recognize this little baby, Doc. You the one who bought it, right?” He laughed. “Well, I’m not surprised—I figured that would be the first thing that came out. You have to admit, I did have you all going there for a while, huh? All those things fit together just like honey and a bee. That thing about you in college, at th
at swimming hole . . . Lord in heaven, how could I even make that one up? So how did you find me? And don’t bullshit me, now”—he winked—“unless you want to find your girl’s brains all over your lap.”

  I made a sudden move, and Hofer raised an eyebrow warningly, motioning me back against the wall with his chin.

  “Your daughter. I went to see her,” I said. “In prison. I posed as a lawyer and told her I had something for you. A monetary settlement. I said I couldn’t find you, and she told me you might be here.”

  “Settlement?” Hofer grinned, as if amused. “So where is it? Show me the money?”

  I just looked at him.

  “Shit, there weren’t no money . . .” He grunted, curling a sly grin. “Damn, they will shit on you if you give ’em the chance. The women . . . Nothing you can do about it. You sure you don’t want me to blow her head off right now and . . .”

  He cocked the gun and Hallie shut her eyes and squealed.

  “No.” I started to lunge toward him. “No. No, please . . .” Tears filled my eyes. “I’m begging you . . . I called the police. There’s no way out. Let her go. Let her go and take me. They’ll be here any second.”

  “No matter.” Hofer shrugged dully, evincing a slight smile. “Let ’em come. It’s over for me anyway.”

  He looked at me, and for the first time I saw with aching clarity just where this was leading. Where it had been leading from the start. What had begun as a twisted but fatherly attempt to right the wrongs he believed had befallen his daughter had now just fallen into a free fall descent into malice and self-destruction.

  “So what do we do?” I looked back at him.

  “I don’t know . . . Sit back. Wait a spell. Trust me, you’re in for quite a sight.” He pressed the pedal with his foot and the large saw blade spun into motion. Hallie jerked forward, pulled along on the feeder bench. She let out a scream, terror flashing in her eyes, her arms suddenly dragged toward the blade, held back only by Hofer. “Daddy!”

  “Stop!” I shouted, lurching toward her. I had to get her out, and I had to do it now. Hofer shifted the gun toward me. I felt like hate bubbled to the surface out of every pore on me, but there was nothing I could do other than have him shoot me down. I felt shame and anger thinking he had outwitted me. “Please, don’t, no,” I begged, hot tears burning my eyes.