Cutting Ties (Book 2) (Piper Anderson Series)

by Danielle Stewart

  Bobby hung up his phone and tucked it back in his pocket, cursing Jules for the distraction. He couldn’t remember now where the conversation with Piper was heading, or how he was going to convince her that they’d weather any storm as long as they were together. Now he had to go do what he had done for the last ten years—take care of Jules.

  “Come with me,” Bobby pleaded. “We aren’t finished talking. I’m not ready for this to be over.”

  She wasn’t sure if he meant their relationship or the conversation, but really she didn’t care. They were both over for her. She had spent days convincing herself of that and preparing an effort to minimize the sting that would come from inevitably having to say goodbye to all of them. When Piper didn’t agree, he took another angle. “If Jules really is upset, it’s you she’ll want to talk to. I’ll just screw it up.”

  “Well the odds are in your favor for that.” Piper looked down at Bruno as if to ask his opinion. Clearly he was indifferent. “Fine,” she said reluctantly, “but only because I’m worried about Jules. The dog is coming with us.” She reached down and rubbed the spot behind Bruno’s ear that always made him happily lean into her.

  Bruno became a physical barrier between Bobby and Piper in the front seat of his truck. His big, furry body perched between them to the point where they could barely see each other, and that was fine by Piper. She was adding this to the list of things Bruno did that made her like him. He was lessening the sting from the conflict she felt being back in Bobby’s truck. This had always been a safe place where she could let her mind relax, knowing Bobby was in control. But now the truck made her feel trapped.

  Piper stared out the window, letting silence settle between them as they drove the streets of downtown Edenville. It was a thick silence, like a bubble slowly filling the truck and pushing them further apart.

  It had been nice to be away from all the hypocrisy in downtown Edenville for the last few days. The cabin was depressingly quiet at times, but at least there were no fake smiling faces. She had no problem leaving a place with picturesque façades hiding such dark secrets. At least back home in Brooklyn you knew what you were getting. Staring up at the broken windows of the cement high-rise projects she grew up in left little room for imagination. You didn’t sit out front and wonder if the next Pulitzer Prize winner was penning a novel in there. That place didn’t try to fool anyone. It wasn’t trying to be something it wasn’t. It looked as depressing as it was.

  But as they drove past the diner and Town Hall she felt her heart tug a little. Every place had its black spots, but at least this place held some happy memories, too.

  “So I checked in at the diner, and Town Hall is all locked up. We’ve been driving for two hours. I’m sure she doesn’t want to be found at this point.” Bobby wasn’t annoyed that he’d run his gas tank nearly empty or that his back was starting to ache. He was aggravated that in the last two hours Piper hadn’t cracked. She was holding tight to her all-business expression and limiting the conversation to Jules. The heat of Bruno’s breath on his neck was the only sign of life in the truck at times. If two hours of driving around in his truck together, something she used to love to do, hadn’t softened her, then two more hours certainly wasn’t going to do it. And if he was being honest there was a small pinch of worry that kept creeping in. Maybe Agent Carlson had ruled out the Railway Killer, but there could still be a copycat out there. He did his best to keep dismissing the fear. Jules was just being Jules.

  “Let’s keep looking,” she whispered, staring out into the night. Maybe it was just her drive to find Jules, or maybe, Bobby hoped, she wasn’t quite ready to leave him yet.

  Chapter Ten

  Jules woke slowly. She felt hung over but couldn’t recall a fun night of drinking to explain the feeling. Without opening her eyes, she fought through the fuzziness clouding her brain. Something was very wrong. She could feel she was lying on hard ground and something prickly was poking her in the back. She tried to reach behind her to see what it was but quickly realized she couldn’t move her right arm more than a couple inches. Why was her arm stuck?

  She dared to open her eyes and lift her aching head. The sudden throbbing in her leg made her forget about her restrained arm. As her eyes struggled to focus in the dim moonlight, she saw that her jeans were sliced open horizontally and blood had begun to dry and harden tightly on her skin. She swallowed hard, pushing back the terrified lump in her throat. Still unable to move her right arm, she used the sleeve of her left arm to wipe gingerly at the wound. She sucked in a rattling breath as she saw that the source of her pain was a neatly carved number twenty-five in her thigh. In an instant, like the walls were falling in on her, she understood what this meant.

  She beat back the urge to scream and called upon every bit of strength she could muster. She was becoming a new Jules for a reason. She was giving up the impulsive, emotionally driven reactions of her youth. Piper was inspiring her through her troubled past to find courage and gratitude for everything she had. She must stay calm; in moments like this, remaining in control of her emotions would be crucial. She closed her eyes again and thought back to her father’s many lessons on protecting herself. As the daughter of a police officer, Jules’s lessons in safety went far beyond the typical “look both ways before crossing the street” and “don’t ever get into a car with a stranger” talks most parents gave their children. Although she had often scoffed at what had seemed to be her father’s overly precautious lectures, she was suddenly very grateful that he had told her what to do if she were ever kidnaped or held hostage.

  She assessed the situation and her surroundings. Her left arm was free but her right was handcuffed to a wood beam. The cold air was making her cheeks tingle. It was dark, but a rusted lantern hung from another beam about ten yards from her, its yellow light casting eerie shadows. Jules could tell she was in an old barn that, judging by its state of disrepair, hadn’t been used in years. She shifted her body and realized it was straw that was poking her in the back. She could smell rich earth, not manure, just healthy cultivated land. She was on some kind of farm, likely abandoned. She closed her eyes and listened for any noises. There were crickets chirping loudly just outside the barn. Off in the distance she heard the rumbling of engines, eighteen-wheelers. She must be close to the highway. Judging by how frequently she heard the roaring of the Jake brakes there must be a good-size hill forcing the trucks to slow down with their heavy loads. She was frantically searching for other clues, not sure when she would use them or how she could benefit from them, but at least it was keeping her mind from spiraling to the terror attempting to overcome her.

  She tugged at her chained arm. The beam was solid, the cuff was tight, and there was nothing within reach that could help her escape it. Her phone was no longer in her pocket. What were her options here? She whispered to herself, “What am I going to do? Think, think.”

  She felt the breath in her lungs turn to stone and the hair on her neck rise as a man stepped into view. He stood with the light of the lantern glowing behind him, a daunting silhouette standing ominously just feet from her.

  “What a stupid question. You don’t get to do anything, that’s the point.” The man’s voice was gravelly and low. Exactly how you’d imagine a serial killer would talk. He took two enormous steps toward Jules who was frozen with fear, her eyes wide and locked on him. “Do you know how badly I want to kill you?” he roared, as he paced back and forth in front of Jules. In his hand he juggled a rusty but sharp spike. His movements were like sparks, nervous, sputtering, and twitching.

  Jules thought quickly back to all of her father’s advice. Be human, connect with the person. Let the captor know you are someone’s daughter, someone’s friend. She licked at her dry lips and mustered every ounce of courage to speak. “I’m sorry you’re so upset,” she said just above a whisper. “There are people who can help you feel better.”

  He lunged forward and crouched down in front of her. He growled into her face. “I a
lready know what makes me feel better. It’s watching some bitch gasp for her last breath.”

  Unable to hide her fear, Jules shakily tried another approach. “They are going to catch you,” she said as defiantly as she could through her tears.

  He cackled a terrifying laugh into her face, and she felt the heat of his breath on her cheeks. “She doesn’t want to catch me. She brought me here. She wants me to kill my daughter so I can start all over again. You think she’s one of the good guys, but she can’t live if she isn’t chasing me.”

  “Who?” Jules asked, trying to make sense of the ranting.

  “Oh, you’re so stupid,” he barked, running the tip of the spike over her cheek. “Why would she send me those messages, attack those girls right here in the town where I can find my daughter? She knows I can’t kill anyone else until Isabella is dead, so she led me right to her. She knows why I do this, she wants me to kill.”

  “Why do you do this?” Jules wasn’t sure what approach would work for this man. Likely there wouldn’t be one. He was a deranged madman with nothing to connect to, but if she was asking questions, at least she was still alive.

  “Every single woman I have ever killed has deserved it. They’ve laughed at me, walked away from me. They think they are better than me. They think they can just ignore me. Well they have plenty to say, plenty to beg for, when I’m standing over them while they bleed. My bitch of a wife and ungrateful daughter thought they could do the same thing. They thought they could leave me. They made a mistake, and now I need to finish what I started. She can’t be walking around, she can’t.” He stood abruptly, clearly enraged at the mere thought of his daughter being alive. “And when I do drain the blood from her body, when I do finally kill her, you’ll know you’re next. I’ll hunt you.” He planted his booted foot down onto her thigh next to the carved number twenty-five, and she cried out in pain.

  “Why not just kill me now?” Jules asked, pursing her lips together and glaring at the man. “If you’re such a monster, such a powerful man, then why don’t you just kill me right now? Or are you really that weak that you can’t even control your own mind?” Jules watched in awe as the man wrestled with himself, quickly standing upright and slapping the spike to his forehead. He spoke frantically in a low voice as he paced in erratic circles.

  “Shut up!” he finally shouted, talking more to the voices in his head than to Jules, though she jumped, tugging again at the chain on her arm. He pulled her pink phone from his pocket and tossed it down to her. She scrambled for it, looking confused, but dialing anyway.

  “I can’t deliver a message if no one comes to pick up the package,” he mused, his tone now calm as though he had righted himself back to the course he had originally planned. “You’re her friend, she’ll know what this means. She’ll know her time is running out. And more than that, she’ll know I’m going to kill you next.” His voice had turned to the hiss of a snake, a victorious chant.

  Jules put the phone to her ear, keeping her eyes on her captor in distrust. She couldn’t believe he was letting her call for help. Hearing the familiar nasal voice of Melisa the dispatcher, Jules burst into tears. “911, what is your emergency?” Melisa asked. Jules watched as the man pulled a bag over his shoulder and disappeared out the door of the barn.

  “Melisa, it’s Jules. I’ve been kidnapped.” Whatever composure she had pulled together to face this monster was now gone. Her adrenaline was the only thing keeping her from completely succumbing to terror. “I need every officer you have and an ambulance out here.” She fumbled over her words, her voice quaking.

  “Jules, okay I hear you, can you tell me where you are?”

  “I think I’m off highway forty-one. I’m in an abandoned barn about a hundred yards from the road. I think it must be one of the farms that shut down after the highway came through. I can hear trucks hitting their brakes, so there must be a big hill. There aren’t too many of them on that stretch of highway. I’m not positive, I’m just guessing. Can you trace my phone?”

  “I’m doing it now,” Melisa said calmly. “It should give us your location within a half mile. Between that and the information you just gave us we’ll find you. Are you in any immediate danger?”

  “He left, he’s gone I think, but I don’t know if he’s coming back. Please just hurry.” The tears were coming fast now, her cheeks soaked. Melisa muted the line for a moment and leaned over to her partner. “Gabby, you better get Bobby on the phone. I’ve got Jules on the line here and she’s in some kind of trouble.” Switching back over to Jules she regained her calm demeanor. “Jules I have your closest cell tower now, and I have officers en route. They’ll be there soon, sweetie, just hold tight.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Bobby used his shoulder to hold his cell phone to his ear as he made a quick and illegal U-turn. The six hours Jules had been missing had turned into eight and then finally an urgent call from dispatch had deflated Bobby’s blustery arrogance. He had been wrong. This wasn’t a Jules temper-tantrum. This was serious. “What hospital are they taking her to?” Bobby’s voice was layered with panic, something he rarely showed. Piper reached her arm across the seat in front of Bruno and put her hand on his leg, trying to steady him emotionally and brace herself as well. “I’ll have Michael pick up Betty and we’ll meet there.”

  “What is it?” Piper asked, her eyes wide with fear.

  “I couldn’t get all the details. I just know from guys on the scene that she was alert and talking. She told them it was your—the Railway Killer that took her.” He couldn’t bring himself to say, your father, to Piper. “She said she’s positive it was him. It doesn’t make any sense. The FBI ruled him out. She’s at St. Catherine’s Hospital. I’m sure she’s okay now, she has to be.” Bobby reached down for Piper’s hand that was still resting on his leg, and he laced his fingers with hers.

  “She’s okay, Bobby,” Piper said reassuringly. “She’s going to be fine.” That seemed like the right thing to say in that moment, but really Piper wasn’t sure. She knew what her father was capable of and she knew how hard it was to recover, physically and mentally, from his torment.

  Bobby pulled his truck to the front of the hospital and they leapt out, ignoring the no parking sign. Bruno followed obediently. With any luck a tow truck would recognize the pickup as Bobby’s and cut him a break. If not, he didn’t care. He needed to get to Jules.

  Michael and Betty were racing into the hospital right behind Piper, Bobby, and Bruno. They were both ghost white and their eyes darted frantically as they all reached the front desk. Recognizing the nurse on duty as a regular customer of hers at the diner, Betty wasted no time.

  “Where is she, Meryl? Where is my baby?” Betty cried.

  “The FBI is in with her right now. They requested we don’t let anyone in until they’re finished. And you can’t have a dog in here.” The voluptuous nurse had her hands on her hips, staring down at Bruno, letting Betty know she meant business.

  “I don’t care if Jesus Christ himself is in there, no one is keeping me from my child. Tell me what room she is in.”

  “I’m sorry, Betty, if I could, I would, you know that.” Meryl tried to soften her face, hoping to let Betty know she felt bad but she had a job to do. She knew Betty to be a formidable woman rarely taking no for an answer, but the FBI had been very clear.

  “You tell me where my daughter is or I will tell everyone in this town what you did with you know who.”

  “You wouldn’t!” Meryl said, covering her heart with her hands. Betty raised a goading eyebrow, challenging Meryl to call her bluff.

  “Fine, she’s in room 221, but you best not tell them I told you.” Meryl crossed her arms over her chest like a pouting child who’d just been sent off to bed without dessert.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Meryl, you know I can keep a secret.” Betty returned to her charming smile, and Meryl huffed at the irony the statement. “And the dog can’t go in there!” she called as the group hustled down the
hall. She cursed under her breath as they ignored her and disappeared around a corner.

  They made their way to the room Jules was in and burst through the door, all four of them looking haggard and worried but relieved to see Jules sitting up with just a large bandage on her thigh.

  “Oh, my baby,” Betty howled, running to her side and wrapping her arms tightly around her daughter.

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Grafton, my name is Agent Lydia Carlson, and I’m sorry to interrupt, but you can’t be in here right now. We need to get your daughter’s statement.” Carlson looked at each person who had just barged in and gave an odd look at the dog trailing in behind. “Frankly, considering the circumstances, she’s lucky to be alive.” Agent Carlson turned toward Piper and spoke calculatedly in her direction. “I’m not sure how many more warnings I can give about the seriousness of this. I don’t know how much more blood you intend to get on those hands of yours.”

  Bruno, who was now standing by Piper’s feet, let out a low growl. No teeth showing, no aggressive stance, just a quiet warning. Agent Carlson looked down at the dog again and then back up at Piper who whispered, “He’s a great judge of character.”

  Betty stepped back from her daughter and spun on Agent Carlson until they were nose to nose. She’d heard enough about this bully. Each encounter and every phone call she’d overheard that involved this woman was toxic. It was time to nip it in the bud with a good ole fashioned tongue-lashing.

  “Lydia,” she said firmly, surprising everyone in the room. Betty was probably the only person who could get away with calling a federal agent by her first name and manage to sound full of authority as she did it. “Don’t you think for a second I don’t know what makes a woman like you tick, because I do.” Betty’s finger was pointed now like a dagger nearly poking Carlson in the eye. “You’ve given your whole life to that badge, and we’re all grateful for your service. But now you’re getting on in years and there ain’t nobody calling you mama, nobody holding the other half of your heart. That makes a hole in a person that can’t be filled by nothing but other people’s pain. You want to go around out there,” Betty said pointing at the door, “trying to tear people down, you go right ahead. But these people, here in this room, these are my people, and you won’t speak to them like that again.” Carlson wrinkled her brows in disbelief and opened her mouth to speak, but Betty cut her off. “And don’t be looking at me like I’m breaking the law and threatening you here. I ain’t talking about taking you into the parking lot and whooping you like your mama should have. I’m too old for that. You see, here in the South, we’ll just find what you love, whatever thing that keeps that sad, broken heart of yours ticking every day, and we’ll snatch it from you before you even see us coming. That’s how we take care of things. Are we clear?”