by Kris Norris
“Apparently, for you guys, anything involving the use of a bed is wrong.”
“Very funny, Cole.” She glanced at the hallway. “Shouldn’t Sawyer be back by now?”
“He’s probably kicking the walls to see if any are strong enough to withstand a quick round.”
She sneered at him and slid to her feet. “Then I guess I’ll go check. Save him the hassle of dragging me all the way back there.”
Cole followed suit. “I’ll tag along.”
“Hoping to become that third after all?”
“Let’s just say I don’t want to get on Sawyer’s bad side where you’re concerned.”
She gazed at the hallway again. “Shit. He told you not to let me out of your sight, didn’t he?”
“He’s just worried about you, as am I. This thing with Davies… It’s gone way beyond a simple case, and neither of us are willing to put your safety on the line. So if you’re going to pout, do it now, ’cause things aren’t changing any time soon.”
“Men. Did it ever occur to you that you’re both in just as much danger?”
Cole winked at her. “We’re your partners. That’s just a given where you’re concerned.”
“I take it back. You can sleep at the foot of the bed instead of in the middle.”
“I’m going to tell Sawyer you said that.”
“Snitch.”
“But I’m yours, honey. And apparently Sawyer’s, too.”
Mallory shook her head as she walked across the room and rounded the corner. The washrooms were down the hallway and around another bend. Already the sounds from the bar were dimmed, only the faint clanking of glasses echoing along the small corridor.
Cole grabbed her arm as she reached the halfway point. “Do you hear something?”
She tilted her head towards the corner. “Just a bunch of drunks singing—wait. It sounds like scuffling.” She inhaled sharply. “Sawyer.”
Cole held firm, unholstering his gun as he motioned towards the corner. She palmed her gun, darting to the inside of the turn. A flash reflected off the wall, followed by a grunt as something hit the floor. Hard.
Bile crested the back of her throat. God, she couldn’t lose Sawyer. Not now. Not after finally getting him back. Cole met her gaze and counted to three, then stepped out. Mallory followed, sweeping the area with her gun. Sawyer was on the ground, his body spasming as another man darted for the rear door. Cole yelled, but the guy disappeared into the adjoining alleyway, nothing but a blur of black amidst the shadows.
Mallory beat Cole to Sawyer’s side, checking his pulse while Cole holstered his weapon and did a quick body sweep.
“He’s okay, Mal. That bastard hit him with a Taser…a few times. But it’s nothing life-threatening.”
Mallory dropped to her knees, cradling Sawyer’s head. “Fuck. How long were they fighting?”
Cole lifted Sawyer’s shirt, exposing a string of marks along his ribs. “Several minutes judging on the wounds. Looks like the impact sites were across his ribs. Not as many nerves or muscles to pass along the signal. Probably what allowed him to fight back, though it must have hurt like hell. Most likely saved his life, though.”
She clenched her jaw, fighting back angry tears. This was it. The point of no return. Either they caught the bastard or he won. She glanced at the door. It’d only been a minute. He wouldn’t have that far of a lead, especially if this was part of some larger plan like she suspected. A hand grabbed her arm and she looked down.
Sawyer stared up at her, his face distorted with pain. “Don’t…eve…thi…it.”
His words were garbled, but she got the gist of it.
She bent closer. “Who attacked you?”
He closed his eyes as if talking took more energy than he possessed. “Dav…vies.”
She patted his hand, hoping he’d understand. “This ends tonight.” She shook her head when he tried to lever himself upright. “We both know he’s planning much more than abducting you. And now that you’ve ruined it, he’ll be off kilter. This is the first time things haven’t gone as planned for him. The first time he’s not in control. We need to capitalise on that.” She pulled out her phone and held it up. “You can track me with any one of those GPS apps. I’ll turn them all on and set my phone to vibrate. Just be there when I need you. Both of you.”
She pushed up when Cole stepped in front of her.
He shook his head. “This is crazy, especially if you think I’m going to let you go alone.”
“I won’t be alone, at least not for long. Just let me confront him. That’s what he wants. Sawyer was right. Davies wanted me to be his last victim. If we show up together, he’ll just disappear again and we’ll be left with nothing more than another dead body.”
“What makes you think he’s got another girl?”
“Because he always had a backup plan.”
Cole scrubbed his hand down his face. “You don’t even know where he is. Shit, Mal, he’s got minutes on you.”
“He doesn’t want to lose me, Cole. Trust me.” She reached for his hand. “I’m counting on you.”
She blew Sawyer a kiss, mouthing for him to be there then ran for the door.
Chapter Thirteen
Rain pelted against Mallory’s face, stinging her skin as she ran down the alley, stopping at the rear street. Passing lights illuminated the drops, casting rainbow-coloured streaks in the puddles lacing the road. She searched each direction, looking for any hint of movement, anything remotely out of place that would prove she was right and that the bastard wanted her to follow him. Signs creaked as the wind gusted down the narrow road, but everything seemed quiet.
“Fuck!”
She headed for a nearby alleyway, guessing that Davies wouldn’t stick to the main roads, and ducked down the entrance, squinting to see through the shadows. A garbage can clattered near the rear, followed by the muffled sound of footsteps.
She cursed. Why did it always come back to alleyways?
Mallory crept down the corridor, sticking to the sides, encasing herself in the dark. Distant thunder rumbled across the sky, adding a slight vibration to the air. She took it slow, knowing she had time. If it was Davies ahead, then she’d been right, and the bastard had grander plans than striking at Sawyer. The thought sent a rush of ice water through her veins. If Sawyer hadn’t fought back, if he wasn’t as strong as a damn ox, Davies might have dragged him off.
She shook the images from her mind. Sawyer had just been the bait. Something to get her on Davies’ turf. She was his real target and even without Sawyer as leverage, Mallory knew the man would have alternate arrangements. Something or someone else to bargain with. It didn’t matter what or who, it only mattered that more than just her life would be on the line.
She reached the end of the alley and stopped, listening for more movement. Something crashed off to her left. She peeked down the small cross street, clearing the other side before starting down, still keeping to the edges. Rain dripped down her forehead, chilling her skin as she followed the road, coming to another street. This one was larger than the others, with small houses occupying the other side. She studied the area when something twigged. She’d been here before, a few years back. They’d raided a house Carter had insisted belonged to Davies, but it’d been a bust.
More pieces fell into place and she turned left again, heading for the same location. This wasn’t a coincidence. This was fate on a grandiose scale. And she knew exactly where to go.
The road twisted a few times, crossing more streets, before she reached her destination. A small brown house set back from the road called like a beacon in the night, the glow of a single light the only clue that she was right. She opened the gate, not even winching when the damn thing squeaked, and walked up to the porch. The second step groaned and creaked, but she ignored it. He already knew she was coming.
She stopped at the threshold, glancing down at the handle. The door stood slightly ajar, dissolving any thoughts that she was wrong or that t
his house belonged to someone else. She gave the door a shove, clearing the room as it swung open, allowing the area beyond to ghost into view. A long hallway led to the rear of the house, with a few doorways branching off to her right. She entered slowly, checking behind her as she moved along the hallway, making her way towards the back. She’d almost reached the kitchen when a noise rose from behind one of the doors.
Mallory stared at the door, knowing what she had to do, but hating every second of it. This was it. There was no going back once she opened the door. She reached for her pocket, ensuring her phone was still there. She had no idea where the boys were, but she had to believe they wouldn’t let her down.
She took a deep breath then palmed the handle, slowly opening the door. The hinges screeched as it swung inward, the sound raising the hairs along the nape of her neck. She held her Glock out in front of her, aiming at the man’s head as it appeared at the rear of the room, largely hidden behind the body of a young woman. The silver sheen of a blade gleamed in the dull light as it hovered at the woman’s throat, the tip drawing a drop of bright red blood from her skin. The girl’s eyes widened as she whimpered, the soft moans muffled by a piece of duct tape placed across her mouth. Blood oozed from several wounds, but nothing that appeared deep enough to kill her.
The man smiled. “Ah, Special Agent Reeves. Right on time. How nice of you to accept my invitation.”
Mallory did a quick scan of the floor in front of her before stepping inside. Her gaze locked on his. God, he looked exactly the same—slicked-back hair above bulging eyes. The angles of his face were hard and pronounced, making him look every inch the killer he was.
She forced down a swallow. “It was more of a demand than a request.”
He laughed. “Either way, it was your choice to come here. Which reminds me. I’m impressed. I wasn’t sure you’d remember this place.”
“You’re not an easy man to forget.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Now, Agent Reeves, that almost sounds like admiration.”
“It’s more revulsion than anything else, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a hard man to track down. Though it helps when you’re masquerading to be someone you aren’t.”
His smile dimmed slightly. “Are you suggesting I’m not who I claim to be? That I’m not the person responsible for all those deaths? Are you admitting you tried to kill an innocent man?”
“Oh, you’re a killer. In fact, you’re a fucking psychopath. You just aren’t John Davies.”
The smile vanished. “And who am I then?”
“The same man you’ve always been…Derek Carter.”
He stared at her, his fingers tightening on the knife. More blood welled up from the wound, mocking her. Right or wrong, she needed to alter the nature of the game before nothing she did had any positive outcomes.
A cruel sneer finally captured his lips as he took a calculated step to his left. “I’m disappointed, Agent Reeves. I thought you knew me better than that, or did your mother’s death affect you to the point you don’t even recognise the man who has so clearly beaten you?”
“Whether you’ve beaten me or not doesn’t change the fact that you’re not John Davies.” She chuckled. “Perhaps they should call me Daphne after all, because in the end, this monster turned out to be nothing more than a man in a mask, albeit a very convincing one. I’m assuming that masterpiece is latex. Form-fitting and every bit a testament to Hollywood. Must have cost you a small fortune. And I have to say, the voice was a nice touch. Who knew you had so many hidden talents.”
He growled in defiance, jerking the girl back in his arms. The knife slipped, drawing a smile cut along her skin. She screamed behind the tape, the sound nothing more than a muted sigh as blood dripped from the wound and down her chest.
He glared at Mallory, his lips pulled back to expose a row of crooked teeth, identical to the ones Davies had flashed her at the execution. “You’re guessing.”
“Am I? No rape or ligature marks on my mother. Multiple stab wounds. Davies never would have deviated from his MO like that. He was too perfect, too obsessed. His pleasure came from the details…from proving, over and over, that he was in control. Her death didn’t have any of that. It was simply a man making a statement. And I heard you. Besides, Davies always called me Mallory, not Agent Reeves. He liked the morbid intimacy of it.”
“So you’re basing your hypothesis on one altered death and a name? Not very professional of you…Mallory.”
“But right, just the same.” She inched to the left. “We know about the tampered evidence in the Thomas case. I’m starting to think it wasn’t a coincidence that his lawyer discovered the planted blood samples. Were you hoping to discredit our investigation as well? Set Davies free with the same claim?” She paused but he remained silent. “Or maybe it was all a ploy to torment the man. Maybe you never planned on saving his life.”
“There’s nothing to save. I’m standing right in front of you.”
“There were traces of latex in the wounds. We’d figured it was surgical gloves, but we were wrong. The victims must have scratched bits of your mask. There was also a smudge of foundation on my mother’s sash, but she wasn’t the one wearing the makeup…it was you.” She shook her head. “I have to hand it to you, Carter. You look just like the son of a bitch. Same piercing eyes. Hell, you’re even the same body build. But as good as you are, I can tell the difference.”
He smiled. “Should I take that as a compliment? Have you been studying me?”
“It’s always wise to study one’s enemies.”
“You tell a nice story, but in the end, you’re still just guessing. Did it occur to you that I left those clues behind on purpose?”
“I saw the video tape of the execution. You counted on everything except a reflection on the glass.” She nodded at him. “You had me convinced. The alleyway, the old house, the phone call. Stealing Davies’ body out from under our noses at the morgue, not to mention killing the doctor from the execution—that was a touch of brilliance. The final few pieces you needed to cast doubt on Davies’ death. I honestly believed you’d somehow brought the bastard back from Hell. But you screwed up when you killed my mother in exactly the same fashion she murdered my father. This isn’t about Davies or the women he killed. It’s about me. You simply used the one man who’d gotten to me to do it.”
He held her stare before his mouth curled into a wide smile. “Touché. I have to hand it to you. You’re good. Better than good, actually.” He sighed, raising one hand to tear at his face. Chunks of rubbery skin fell to the ground, revealing the left side of Carter’s face as his lips twisted into a sadistic grin. “The glass. What were the chances of that? Thought I’d stayed off to the side enough to prevent any reflections, but you can’t account for every angle of every camera. Technology. It really is a motherfucker.”
“Where’s Davies’ body?”
“Let’s just say I’ve got it on ice, just in case.”
She held her ground, purposely not staring at the pieces of Davies’ artificial flesh littering the floor. “Why don’t you let the woman go? Then you and I can have a chat…just the two of us.”
He laughed. “Do you honestly take me for a fool? No, this is going to end the way it should have two years ago. The perfect finish to my reign of terror.”
His words hit her hard and she tried not to flinch. God, what had she missed?
“Didn’t see that one coming, did you? Thought I’d merely picked up where Davies had left off? That he’d gotten inside my head and sent me off the proverbial deep end? Sorry to disappoint you, but it appears there were still a few loose ends you hadn’t tied up just yet. Connections you never made.” His eyes lit up. “Oh, my dear, Mallory. The part I enjoyed the most was watching all of you puzzle it out. Unearthing Davies was always part of my plan. I’m afraid the man was fucking crazy. Completely off the chart. But we shared a common vision—one that allowed me to control his desires, shall we say.”
Mallory tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. “Did you frame Davies the way you framed Thomas, you son of a bitch?”
“Now don’t go jumping to conclusions. I assure you. Davies was as sick as you thought he was. He just wasn’t the brains behind the operation. He was a man of action. Liked to get his hands dirty. Liked the way the blood looked and tasted. He was more than eager to do my bidding and play the part of the main character. There was just one problem. The man couldn’t think past his own demons. Couldn’t deviate from a single step. He was meticulous to a fault. It was only a matter of time before he got caught.”
“So why didn’t the crazy bastard turn you in? Why take the fall if you were his partner?”
“Because he trusted me. I was his mentor of sorts, and I assured him we’d be the ones to finally bring the FBI to its knees. He had a problem with authority.”
More pieces clicked into place as she shuffled forward, halting when he glared at her.
She nodded at him. “You never planned to save him, did you? You were there to ensure he died.”
“I hate loose ends. As you can see for yourself, they have a way of coming back and, how did you put it, ‘biting you in the ass’.”
“You shot Cole and attacked Sawyer. Looks like you’re getting sloppy.”
“Am I? Or was it a conscious decision not to kill them.”
Dread churned in her stomach, making it burn. “You want them to suffer.”
“Couldn’t have your knights in shining armour riding to the rescue. Nasty things those Tasers…almost as debilitating as a bullet wound. I’m betting Sawyer won’t be able to move properly for another hour or so, seeing as I hit him half a dozen times. He did surprise me, though. I didn’t think he’d be so hard to take down. He’s stronger than I gave him credit.” He winked at her. “And here I thought you were the one with the stamina after that lovely display in the Jeep. Now I see where your mother got her lusty ways from.”
“My mother? Lusty? And you said Davies was the crazy one. I’m afraid you’ve got the facts wrong.”