No One to Hear You Scream

by K. J. Dahlen

  "That makes sense. He might have come back down here, especially if he wants you to follow him," Alec said while he wrote down a description of the boat.

  "What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

  "Before we get into that little surprise, I need to let you know what I found out when I paid Paul Moran a visit. I didn't find Mr. Moran, but I did find a trashed house and blood everywhere. He hasn't been at work, and no one knows where he could be. His family is worried and filed a missing person report last week."

  "Why didn't that show up in his background check?" Sam wondered out loud.

  "I don't know, but I'm betting that when I get down to Myrtle Grove, I won't find Nick Granger either," Alec surmised.

  "Yeah, well, let me know how that goes. What did you mean when you said the killer wants me to follow him?" Sam asked.

  "A letter came for you at the station this morning. The words were cut out of several magazines and pasted on paper."

  "If it was addressed to me, why did you open it?"

  Alec hesitated a moment, wondering just how much he should tell him. "It had a dark stain on the front"

  "What kind of dark stain?" Sam asked, already knowing the answer.

  "A bloodstain."

  "Whose blood?" Sam asked quietly.

  "It matched Chloe's blood type."

  Sam felt a devastating blow to his heart. For a moment he couldn't speak. Finally, he asked, "What did the letter say?"

  "He wants to see if you can find him before he kills again," Alec told him.

  Sam was silent for a minute. "What were his exact words?"

  "The entire letter reads, `Can you come out to play a little game of hide-and-seek? The rules are you have to find me before I find another Chloe. That's the only rule.' Pretty sick, if you ask me," Alec said.

  Sam knew his partner, and he knew when his partner was holding something back. "What else was in the envelope?"

  Alec took a deep breath. "There was a lock of Chloe's hair and a picture of her." Alec paused and then asked, "How did you know there would be something else in the envelope?"

  Sam didn't speak for a minute. "Because I'm beginning to know this creep. He would want to make it worth my while to keep coming after him."

  "And did he? I mean, did he offer you just enough for you to go after him?"

  "He did that when he murdered my wife," Sam said. "Alec, I want you to look after Wyatt and Tessa. This killer won't hesitate to go after them if I don't play his little game, and I don't want them anywhere near him."

  "Have you found your witness yet?"

  "Yeah, somebody found her, and she's back in the hospital under guard. She may not make it this time, though."

  "That's too bad. I was hoping she would make it. I'll move Tessa and Wyatt to a safe house and run down Nick Granger. If I find out anything, I'll let you know. If you need anything, call me," Alec said, ending the call.

  Sam stared at the phone for a minute, and then got up to inform Ian of the exchange. Ian wasn't happy with the news. "He's making this personal, isn't he?" Ian looked at Sam. "And he's aiming his sights right on you. Why is that, do you suppose?"

  Sam nodded. "I think he wanted it this way from the beginning. The real question is why. What did I do to deserve this honor?"

  "Because you were very close to discovering who he really is," came Cole's voice from the doorway.

  Sam turned to look at Cole. "What do you mean?"

  "You were getting too close to him, and he had to find a way to stop you before you could stop him. I think that's why he killed your wife," Cole told them.

  "And just what are you basing your conclusion on?" Sam asked.

  "In the four years I've been working this case, I've followed hundreds of leads that didn't turn out. They led nowhere. This killer is very clever that way. But you found out something he doesn't want anyone to know, something he feels will lead the police right to him. He sees you as a threat. So he killed your wife in an attempt to get you as far away from the case as possible."

  "He doesn't really know me that well then, does he?" Sam stated. "By killing Chloe, he made sure I would follow him. This won't be over until I see him in prison or he kills me too"

  Cole nodded. "He miscalculated the strength of your resolve, but he also knows that your jurisdiction is limited. If he takes himself out of Louisiana, what are you going to do?"

  Sam thought for a moment. He hadn't really planned that far ahead. The rage he'd felt at the cemetery was still inside him. He felt it every waking moment. "If he wants to play hide-and-seek with me, he'd better pick a good hiding spot. The game is about to get very rough"

  "At what cost?" Cole asked.

  "What do you mean?" Sam sensed a threat in the veiled question.

  "How far are you willing to go to get this guy off the street?"

  "Do you mean, am I willing to kill him before he can kill someone else? Yes, without hesitating, and I wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over it either," Sam stated.

  "What are you going to do if he goes after what's left of your family?" Cole asked, still playing the devil's advocate. He knew he was pushing, but he had to know just how far Sam would go.

  "My family is protected," Sam assured him. He didn't tell the FBI agent any more than that. He still wasn't one hundred percent sure about Cole, and Sam decided to be safe rather than risk his son's life.

  "I hope so, because if he's cornered, he may lash out at the one person he feels is responsible, and that would be you," Cole warned.

  Ian could feel the tension escalating between the two men. "Look, we still have to find this creep. I suggest you save the speculation until we do."

  Cole looked over at Ian and nodded. Sam didn't say a word. He just left the room. On his way out, he picked up the CD Callie had dropped off that morning and decided to watch it again. He was still sure there was something that they had missed.

  Two hours later, he sat up in his chair and grabbed the mouse. He started the file over. This time he was looking for something specific. As he neared the spot he thought he'd seen it, he sat closer to the screen.

  He sat back and smiled as he froze the frame. They had missed it earlier. Pointing his finger at the screen like a gun, he shot at the still picture. "Got you, sucker," he told the screen.

  Sam grinned as he printed the screenshot. He had his first real piece of evidence that showed the killer's face. When the picture came out of the printer, Sam took it and the disk; he wasn't going to let it out of his possession. He didn't want anyone misplacing it.

  He'd been so busy that he had lost track of time. When he left his makeshift office, the station house was almost empty. He looked toward the window and found that it was dark outside. He found a note Cole had left saying he was going back to the motel, so Sam decided to call the hospital to check on Sable.

  A few minutes later he was on his way to the motel. Kelly, the night nurse at the hospital, had told him that Sable was doing as well as could be expected. The doctors were keeping her sedated. She told him that the guard was still in place and that Rob had gone home already.

  Sam realized that he too was tired. This emotional roller coaster had worn him out. He felt good about the picture, though; at least they had some idea what the killer looked like. But that too brought a problem. What would Cole say when he saw it?

  When he pulled into the motel's parking lot, he found a spot next to Cole's sedan. His old blue Pontiac looked rather shabby next to the dark sedan, but Sam didn't care. Chloe had loved his old blue car. Sam smiled as the memories trickled into his brain. He stopped them before the pain of her loss could filter in, and he made his way to his room.

  As he opened the door, he saw a letter on the floor just inside the room. Setting his things on the table, he picked up the letter and snapped on the light. He didn't recognize the handwriting, but the letter bore his name. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he opened the letter.

  After reading it, Sam swore and got up. Marching ove
r to the door between his and Cole's room, he banged on it. When a sleepy Cole opened the door, Sam glared at him.

  "Did you see anyone outside my room tonight?"

  Cole frowned. "No, I didn't, but I've been asleep for a while. Why? Has something else happened?"

  "You could say that. The killer left me a note." Sam watched for his reaction.

  Cole's eyes widened. "What?" He looked stunned.

  Sam cleared his throat in disappointment and turned to grab the phone in his room. He was dialing Rob's number when Cole came into his room. Cole put on a shirt and Sam handed him the letter to read.

  When Rob picked up the phone, Sam didn't even bother to say hello. "Rob, the killer left us a little surprise tonight. When I got to my motel room, I found a letter shoved under the door."

  "What does it say?"

  "Oh, just that he's very upset with us. It seems he thinks we've somehow ruined his plans, and now he tells me that because of us, he had to leave town before he was finished."

  "Oh, well, isn't that too bad?" Rob asked sarcastically.

  "Yeah, well, I'm a little worried about where this guy is going," Sam told him, "or if this is just a ruse to make us think he's gone" Sam contemplated all the scenarios he could think of. "How is it that he seems to know everything about what we're doing?" Sam speculated out loud. His suspicions about Cole's involvement were resurfacing.

  "What are you suggesting? That he has someone on the inside telling him what we're doing?"

  "I didn't say that, but as long as you brought it up ... is that possible?"

  "Anything is possible, but the probability is slim," Rob told him.

  Sam was looking at Cole and wondering just how he fit into all of this. "Maybe," he told Rob. "I have something to show you in the morning."

  "Do you want me to come over now?"

  "No, one of us needs to get some sleep. I'll meet you at the station in the morning."

  When Sam hung up the phone, Cole turned and handed him back the letter. "I've been here since seven," Cole said. They both looked at the clock on the wall. It read 11:00 P.M. "I didn't notice anything, and I didn't hear anything. I haven't been sleeping very well, so I took a sleeping pill and it put me right out. I'm sorry."

  Sam didn't know if he should believe him or not. Was it just another coincidence that the killer had come here with Cole right next door, or was there more to it than that? And why did Cole take a sleeping pill tonight of all nights?

  "I think, for my own safety, I should get a room somewhere else for as long as I'm here. I don't want to wake up one morning with my throat cut," Sam told him without any further reason.

  Cole nodded. "I'll see you in the morning, then" He walked back through the connecting door and closed it behind him. Sam walked over to it and turned the lock on his side of the door. He wasn't taking any chances.

  Sam sat on the bed again. All thoughts of getting any sleep tonight were gone. He knew his body was running on empty, but his mind wouldn't let him rest. He picked up the letter again and reread it.

  It was like the letter that Alec said was delivered to him in New Orleans. The words were cut from magazines and pasted on the paper. Sam frowned as he read it a third time. There was something odd about a few of the letters-they were capitalized for no reason. He grabbed a pen and spelled out a sentence with the capital letters. He finished and read what he'd written. The message read SABLE WILL DIE TONIGHT.

  Sam grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He was going to the hospital to check on Sable. As he got into his car, he noticed something odd about Cole's car. He couldn't immediately register what was different, but something definitely was. He didn't have time to investigate, however; he needed to check on Sable. He got into his car and started driving to the hospital. Even at this late hour, there was enough traffic to slow him down. Patience wasn't one of his virtues when he had somewhere to be. Sam's fingers tapped the steering wheel.

  He pulled into the parking lot and rushed inside. The halls of the hospital were quiet and empty as he made his way to the second floor. Taking two steps at a time, his footsteps echoed in the stairwell. He cautiously opened the door to the second floor. Looking up and down the corridor, he didn't notice anything amiss. When he got to Sable's room, he didn't see a guard outside her door.

  Sam frowned and drew his weapon. Flattening himself against the wall, he peeked inside the room. He could see Sable lying on the bed, and there didn't seem to be anything wrong. He put his gun away and opened the door. He saw a crack of light coming from under the bathroom door. Thinking that the guard was using the facilities, Sam approached the bed.

  Sam's head exploded in pain as something hard came down on the back of his head. He dropped to the floor, unconscious.

  The shadowy figure dragged Sam out of sight of the window and smiled.

  He had accomplished what he had set out to do. The only witness that could identify him was dead, and he got a bonus. The cop who had tried to destroy him was lying at his mercy. The man squatted down beside the unconscious Sam. Thoughts of slitting Sam's throat entered his mind, but he thought that would end the game too soon, and he had other plans for Sam.

  The rivalry between Sam Sebastian and himself made the game more interesting. He hadn't yet come across a better opponent, and over the years a few good men had challenged him. Then he got another idea. He could leave Sam with a permanent reminder of his brush with death. His black eyes sparkled with merriment as he reached for the front of Sam's shirt.

  He ripped open Sam's shirt and exposed his chest. Reaching for the knife that was never far, the man began twisting the handle to expose a secret compartment. From it he took out a special surgeon's scalpel and began to carve the design he was infamous for. Sam moaned a little-a sound he relished as long as his rival remained unconscious. He couldn't make his design as elaborate as he would have liked, or as deep-after all, he didn't want Sam to bleed to death. No, he wanted Sam to be able to finish the game. When he was done he sat back and looked at his creation. It would do.

  Leaving Sam alive, the killer got up and looked out the window of the door. The halls were empty, and he knew he had better make his escape while he could. He certainly didn't want to get caught now. Slipping through the door, he made his way undetected through the hospital corridor and down the stairs. Once outside, he blended with the shadows of the night.

  A few hours later, as the sun was peeking over the horizon, Rob walked up to the front entrance of the hospital. Yawning, he pulled open the doors and entered the establishment. While he waited for the elevator, his cell phone rang. It was the hospital calling. He frowned. Rob listened for a moment and then swore. He shoved the phone back in his pocket and raced to the stairs. He rushed up to the second floor. He pushed open the door and ran down the hall to Sable's room.

  He stopped when he saw hospital personnel working on a figure on the floor. Glancing over the doctor's shoulder, he saw that the man on the floor was Sam. The doctors were trying to stop the bleeding on his chest. Rob looked over at the bed and found a sheet covering Sable's body. The sheet bore several large bloodstains. Rob looked around for the guard who should have been outside the room last night. The door to the bathroom was open, revealing his body lying on the floor. The pool of blood around his neck told its own story.

  "What the hell happened here?" Rob demanded.

  A doctor looked up from the work he was doing on Sam's chest. His name badge read DR. JOHN ROSS. He glared at Rob. "What the hell does it look like happened here? It certainly wasn't a picnic."

  Rob looked at Sam. "Is he going to make it?"

  Dr. Ross nodded. "He's the only one out of the three who will. The other two are already dead. Your killer only cut him superficially. He's going to have a rather unique scar though."

  Rob stepped over to Sam's body and examined the killer's handiwork. He winced as he studied the design the killer had carved into Sam's chest. All he could make out was a bunch of squiggles and lines. To Rob, the
design didn't make any sense.

  Sam groaned as he began to wake up. His chest felt as if it was on fire, and his head hurt like hell. He tried to open his eyes, but the light blinded him. For a moment, he didn't remember where he was. Then he heard a voice calling his name. He tried again to open his eyes. The first thing he saw was a doctor's face, and beyond him stood Rob. Rob was looking a little grey around the edges, and Sam had to ask, "What's going on?"

  When he remembered, he tried to sit up. The doctor introduced himself, placed a hand on his chest, and told him to lie still. Dr. Ross finished taping the gauge on his chest and assisted Sam in sitting up.

  Sam's chest and head hurt. For a moment he couldn't stand the pain, but it lessened after a few minutes. Holding his chest, Sam looked over toward the bed. "Is she dead?" he asked Rob.

  Rob nodded. "Both she and the cop who was guarding her are dead. What happened here?"

  Sam reached for Rob's hand to help him to his feet. Dr. Ross grabbed the chair and told him to sit down. As Sam sat in the chair, he began telling his story. "I took another look at the note the killer left after our phone call. There was something odd about the way some of the letters were positioned, so I grabbed a pen and figured out that the killer left a message within the letter. It said that Sable was going to die tonight. I came over here hoping to prevent that from happening. Man, I didn't see anything," Sam groaned. "I was walking toward the bed when he hit me from behind."

  "Did you see the cop that was supposed to be on guard?" Rob asked.

  "No, I thought he was using the bathroom," Sam told them.

  "The killer dragged him in there and let him bleed to death from a cut on his throat," Dr. Ross informed them.

  Sam looked toward the bed. "What about Sable?"

  Dr. Ross nodded toward her body covered by the bloody sheet. "He must have heard someone coming. He slit her throat as well. You probably didn't see it at first, coming from the door. The cut is on the other side of her neck. She bled out quickly, and more than likely didn't even know it was happening. She's been heavily sedated"