The Broken Doll (Inheriting Evil Book 1)

by Paris Hansen

  Chapter Forty-One

  The drive to Winfield was agonizingly slow.

  Even though there was no traffic and she’d been able to go a solid five miles over the speed limit the entire way, it felt like it took forever to get to her final destination. The constant ringing of her cell phone had her on the verge of losing her mind, but instead of turning it off like she wanted to, she turned down the ringer. On the off chance something happened to her, she wanted them to be able to locate her using the phone’s GPS. Turning it off completely wouldn’t allow for that.

  She’d had a feeling it wouldn’t take Cade long to figure out what she was doing. Sloane knew he’d seen through her story right away but didn’t have enough to go on to stop her. He’d probably gone back to the conference room and looked at her computer. His intuition and curiosity were exactly why she hadn’t closed it completely. She wasn’t stupid enough to think she could handle the entire thing on her own.

  She just needed a head start.

  Now that she had one, she needed a game plan.

  Driving about a half-mile up the road past the Gibbons’s driveway, Sloane pulled over onto the shoulder and parked her car. She quickly read through the numerous texts Cade sent her, then the few Reid sent after Cade told him what she was doing. Zach’s latest victim was Casey Stevens, a pediatric nurse he occasionally worked with.

  Another victim he knew personally. Sloane had to hope this time things went a little differently.

  She pulled up the satellite photo of the property so she could get the lay of the land. It would be harder for her to sneak around in broad daylight, but if she was lucky, Zach would be too busy with Casey to notice her. There was one outbuilding far enough away from the house that no one inside could hear the screaming, but not so far away he’d have a newborn baby out in the potential elements for too long.

  It was as good a starting point as any of the other buildings, though she hoped once she was on the property, there might be a sign of the direction she should go in. She searched the trunk for a weapon, knowing he’d be armed with at least a knife or a scalpel. If he had a gun, she’d be in big trouble.

  Sloane wasn’t surprised that the only thing she could find in the car was a tire iron. It wasn’t like rental cars came equipped with an arsenal, though that would’ve been very helpful at the moment. Grabbing the heavy metal instrument out of the trunk, she gently closed the lid, knowing the sound would carry in the country. She didn’t want to broadcast that she was there. Her entire plan rested on the element of surprise.

  For a split second, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. She very well could be heading to her death, but in the end, it didn’t matter how dangerous the situation might be. She couldn’t sit back and not at least try to save Casey and her child. She couldn’t let Maggie go another day without seeing her daughter.

  Before setting off to save the day, she sent a quick text to Cade, letting him know what she was doing. He sent her a text back telling her to wait, but they both knew she couldn’t. Shoving her phone into her back pocket, she cut through the dense thicket of trees lining the street in front of the property. On the other side of the trees was a large front yard, then the two-story house, which was the main residence on the three-acre estate.

  She watched the house for a moment, checking all of the windows to make sure no one was watching her before she left the safety the trees gave her. Curtains or blinds covered the windows dotting the front of the house, and they were all closed tight. The only way someone would see her crossing the large yard was if they deliberately looked outside. She had to cross her fingers and hope that didn’t happen.

  Even knowing she wasn’t likely to be seen, she sprinted across the yard, running straight for the edge of the house as fast as she could. Once there, she pressed her body flat against the front and leaned slowly to her right until she could see around the corner. She made her way toward the back, ducking beneath each window even though they were shut up tight.

  At the back of the house, she peeked around the corner again to make sure no one was there. The outbuilding she wanted to check was just past the barn with a pathway leading from the house to the building. She didn’t think it would be smart to take the direct route knowing she’d be a sitting duck if Zach came out of the house or the building and she was right there waiting to be slaughtered.

  To the left of the house and the path was an overgrown pasture. While the house, barn, and the first outbuilding looked like they’d been kept up after the Gibbons’s death, the rest of the property and buildings looked like they’d been neglected over the last year. Sloane hoped the disarray would work in her favor as she crouched down and ran as fast as she could in the awkward position. A scream pierced through the eerie quiet.

  Sloane stumbled, her knees hitting the ground hard. Pain ricocheted up her legs, causing her breath to catch. Her heart thundered in her ears.

  There wasn’t much time. She needed to hurry before she was too late. Knowing Zach was probably inside the building dealing with Casey, Sloane decided she didn’t need to crouch down or stay out of sight. Who would see her? And if someone else was there, how would they tell Zach she was coming?

  Running through the overgrown grass, she slipped a few times but never lost her footing. Casey continued to scream, but Sloane knew it was no use. Even though it sounded like she was screaming loud enough to wake the dead, there was no one close enough to the property to hear her.

  She was Casey’s only hope.

  By the time she made it to the front of the building, she no longer had a plan, no longer cared about figuring something out. She was going inside to face the man who’d taken too much from so many people, including herself. Throwing the door open, she stopped in her tracks when another scream pierced the air. This time it sounded different. This time it wasn’t the scream of a woman hoping to save herself and her unborn child; it was the wail of tiny new lungs that hit Sloane’s ears.

  She was too late.

  Two heads swiveled toward her as she sucked in a loud breath.

  She made eye contact with Casey first. The relief she saw there gave Sloane the added motivation she needed to face the man who’d killed so many innocent people. Slowly, she looked over to Zach Bennett, who stood near Casey’s head, a bundle wrapped in a pink blanket in one arm. In his other hand, he held a bloody scalpel he moved between Casey and the baby, unsure which one he should use it on.

  “It’s over, Zach,” Sloane said as she took a tentative step into the building, then another.

  “No, it’s not. I finally figured it out. I’ve finally got what she wants. She’s waiting. I can’t let you keep me from bringing her the new baby.”

  “Zach, the FBI is on the way. You aren’t going to get away with this.”

  Something flickered in Zach’s eyes, an understanding or realization. She’d said something she shouldn’t have.

  “You can’t stop me,” he said before dragging the scalpel across Casey’s exposed neck.

  Blood bubbled up from the wound, but Sloane could tell he’d made a mistake and hadn’t cut deep enough. She needed to make a decision. Let him go with the baby so she could try to stabilize Casey, then go after him, or continue to confront him and let Casey bleed out. The decision was made as soon as he placed the bloody scalpel against the baby’s neck.

  “Let me go, or they both die, and I get away anyway. I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy. I’m not afraid.”

  “Fuck,” Sloane growled. “Fine…”

  She stepped to the side, moving around the end of the bed and to Casey’s side. She was just out of reach of Zach and the baby, but even if she’d been close enough to take a swing with the tire iron, the chances of hitting the baby were too great. Zach watched her as he walked backward out of the building. He closed the door behind him, a metallic clang and a snick telling her he’d locked them inside.

  What the hell was she going to do now?

  Chapter Forty-Two
r />   “No, no, no, no….”

  How could this be happening? How did they find him?

  This couldn’t be happening.

  “Fuck.”

  The walk to the house seemed to take forever even though he’d sprinted across the short distance. He felt like he was in a nightmare, with everything around him moving in slow motion as he tried not to panic. He should’ve killed her, not lock her in like there was no possible way she could get out. Even if she was telling the truth about the FBI being on their way, killing her would’ve bought him some time to get away.

  Once inside, he locked the back door, hoping it would slow his unwanted visitor down once she freed herself from the shed. He stood in the kitchen longer than necessary, trying to figure out what to do about his little problem. He needed time to think, but that was exactly what he didn’t have a whole lot of.

  How could he get the girls into the car and on the road before the agent outside got free? It wouldn’t be easy, especially not with the infant. She needed to be cleaned and fed. He needed to put a diaper on her and one of the cute outfits he’d saved from when Rebecca was a baby.

  Then there was Bethany. He didn’t know if she was having a good day or not. If she wasn’t, her stubbornness would make moving her ten times worse than dealing with the baby and Rebecca combined.

  He could hear pounding coming from outside. It was faint but noticeable in the quiet of the kitchen. The baby in his arms had screamed when she first entered the world but had been blissfully quiet since he wrapped her in the pink fleece blanket. Staring down into her little face, he knew what he had to do.

  The only option he had was to stand his ground. This was his family. This was their home. Let her come. He would make her want to turn around and walk away. She wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt. Especially not a small child.

  He made his way to his sister’s room. The closer he got, the easier it was to hear Rebecca’s little voice reading to her mother. Bethany had probably listened to the book at least five times since the day before, but her patience was one of the things that made her such a great mom. She didn’t mind if her little girl wanted to tell her the same thing over and over again. She listened intently, giving Rebecca her full attention every single time.

  “Uncle Zach,” Rebecca greeted him as soon as he walked into the room. “Is that my little sister? Can I hold her?”

  “Not yet, sweetheart. Your momma needs to feed her and clean her up first.”

  She stood up on the bed so she could peer at the baby in his arms. “Oh yeah, she looks like she needs a bath, and she kinda smells, but she’s so cute.”

  He tried not to let his anxiousness ruin the moment, but he knew the woman outside would be there soon. She would try to destroy his happy family and take his girls away from him. He would never let that happen. He couldn’t. What was he, if not a doting brother and an amazing uncle?

  “Did you ladies pick out a name for our new bundle of joy?” he asked the little girl as he walked over to Bethany.

  Her arms were outstretched, ready for the daughter she’d been asking for. He laid the infant into her arms, the baby’s head cradled gently in the crook of her elbow. The scene nearly made him cry, and if he had more time, he would have taken a picture with his cellphone, so he’d never forget the moment.

  Turning back to face Rebecca, he smiled at his niece, waiting for her to answer his question. She looked past him at her mom, her little nose scrunched up in uncertainty. The baby whimpered a little behind him, which was a good sign. It meant that Bethany was doing what she needed to do, and he’d been right about finally figuring out what she needed.

  “Rebecca, baby, I need you to come over here. I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay, Uncle Zach,” she said before jumping off the bed and skipping over to him. She was the best little girl in the world.

  He squatted down, so he was eye level with her, then gave her a very serious look. “There is a very bad woman outside right now. She’s trying to get in here. She wants to take you and your sister and your mom away from me.”

  Tears formed in Rebecca’s eyes, the sight tugging at his heart, but he couldn’t stop now. He needed her to be scared, and he needed it to be the agent’s fault.

  “B...b...b..ut, I..I..don’t wanna,” she cried out.

  It took no time for her to be crying in earnest, her loud sobs startling the baby, who started to cry in unison with her big sister. The chaos should have rattled him, but instead, it bolstered him. He was ready to face off with whoever came through the door.

  A crash came from the kitchen, the sound causing the girls to cry harder and louder. He picked Rebecca up, so she was facing away from him, then pulled out the scalpel he’d shoved in his pocket after running into the house. He brought the sharp instrument up near Rebecca’s throat and waited. Bethany started to rock in her chair next to him. Whether to calm herself or the baby, he wasn’t sure, but the rhythmic motion helped calm him as well.

  He was ready to do whatever it took to protect her. She was everything to him. She was the most important person in his life.

  Nothing else mattered.

  Not him or little Rebecca or the new baby. None of them meant anything if something happened to her. He would sacrifice them all to keep her happy and safe.

  He just hoped he didn’t have to.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  “Fuck. Fuck.”

  Looking around the room, she found a few blankets and towels. They weren’t clean by any stretch of the imagination, but they’d do the trick. Casey was bleeding from the hole in her abdomen and the slice in her throat. The bleeding would need to be stopped if she had any hope of surviving. Fear shown in the other woman’s eyes as Sloane placed a towel over her throat. She pleaded with Casey to apply pressure to her wound while moving to take care of the cut in her abdomen.

  Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she keyed in her password with bloody fingers, then called Cade. She set it on speakerphone as she worked, each ring driving her anxiety higher.

  “Thank god. Are you okay?” he asked instead of a greeting.

  “He’s locked me in one of the buildings behind the house, the one closest to the barn. I’m with Casey Stevens. She’s still alive but barely. He slit her throat, and she’s still wide open from the c-section. He’s got the baby, Cade.”

  She picked out the cleanest of the towels and tried packing the wound as best she could. Sloane had no idea what she was doing or if she was causing more harm than good at the moment. All she knew was she had to stop the bleeding as best she could if there was any hope for Casey to see her daughter again.

  “I’m almost there, maybe five, ten minutes tops. Morgan and a team are not far behind me. I’ll make sure he’s got an ambulance on the way.”

  “He’s taking the baby to his sister. Someone needs to be at the Hayward house to catch him.”

  “They’ve already checked the house. It’s empty. We think he moved his sister and the girl to where you are. According to his financials, he’s been spending a lot of money at home improvement stores lately. We think he’s been renovating the house out there for his sister. It was all left to her in the will. They just haven’t had the chance to transfer anything over yet. Zach’s been too busy to deal with the paperwork.”

  “He said he got what she wanted and that he wasn’t afraid. He’s willing to die for his sister, Cade. That makes him far more dangerous than I realized.”

  Cade groaned. “Damn it. I’d hoped he’d have some sense of self-preservation, but it doesn’t sound like it. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe and happy.”

  “What if he decides killing them all is what will keep her safe and happy? Now that she’s got the new baby he thinks she wants, what if his end game has changed? We can’t let him kill that baby or Addy. I need to get out of here,” she said, hoping Cade couldn’t hear how frantic she was.

  Leaving Casey on the table, happy the bleeding seemed to have slowed,
if not stopped, Sloane made her way over to the door, tire iron in hand. Smashing the thick metal rod against the door, she clenched her teeth together as pain reverberated up her arms.

  “Sloane…”

  Cade’s voice was distant, the phone still on the other side of the table. She could barely hear him saying her name, pleading with her to wait for him. Shaking her head, she brought the tire iron down against the door again, but this time she’d been prepared for the pain. She used it to fuel her fire as she hammered against the door, this time moving down to the handle, hoping she could knock it off, which might allow her to open it.

  When nothing seemed to work, she began looking around the room for something else to use. Leaning against the wall in the far corner between a pile of wood and a wood-burning fireplace was an ax. Sighing, she dropped the tire iron on the floor, the clang echoing off the walls. Her arms ached, but she didn’t care. She needed out of that room so she could stop Zach from whatever he had planned.

  Picking the ax up, she walked back to the door and began to swing it in earnest. It didn’t take long for her to start a hole. Relief surged through her as she swung again, using the head of the ax to peel away pieces of wood that were no longer secure. Within minutes, she had a hole big enough she could fit through. She hesitated for a second, then threw the ax through the hole so she’d have both hands free to climb through.

  Once outside, she promised Casey someone would be there to help her soon, then picked the ax up and ran toward the house. The faint cries of a child, mixed with the cries of a baby, urged her on. She tried the handle on the back door and found it locked, but it wouldn’t be for long. Bringing the ax down on the handle, she sucked in a breath as every part of her body felt the recoil.

  It only took two swings to knock the handle off the door, allowing the door to swing open. She followed the crying past the kitchen and down the hall, then stopped short as soon as she entered the room.