by Blake Pierce
On the porch, Ellington kept his eyes trained on the single window that shone out onto the porch. He stayed low, waiting for a figure to appear in front of the window. It took less than two minutes. Harry Givens walked by the window, holding a glass.
Knowing that Givens was in the living room, Ellington summoned up all the anger he felt in that moment. He used it to draw back his leg and deliver a savage kick to the door. His aim was dead on, landing along the solid bulk of the locking mechanism within the door. The door flew backward, tearing from the bottom hinge and nearly falling to the floor inside.
He trained his gun to the right and saw Givens standing there. A look of shock was on his face. He dropped the glass of water he’d been drinking to the floor.
“Nice to see you again,” Ellington said. “This time, I think I’m going to have you unlock that shed out there.”
“Are you kidding me?” Givens said. “You can’t just bust in here without a warrant. I know the law!”
“I doubt that,” Ellington said. “If you knew the law, you wouldn’t have three women locked up in that shed out back. One of which is my partner. So I’m going to tell you this one time. Take me out there and unlock it. If you don’t, I’ll blow out your knee and claim I shot you while trying to escape.”
He watched as Givens was clearly trying to think of a way out of this. The confidence Ellington had seen in his eyes earlier was gone. Now he understood the weight of his crimes and he was beginning to crumble.
“Okay,” he said, near tears. “Okay.”
Ellington kept his aim on Givens as he led him to the busted down front door and back out into the snow. They marched through the yard toward the shed. Ellington took a great deal of pleasure in the sight of Givens limping a bit. He wondered if it was from the injury Delores Manning had doled out. He took similar pleasure in watching his hands trembling as he found the key on a crowded key ring and unlocked the shed door. Givens inserted the key and turned it, popping the lock open. He hesitated, as if unsure of what to do next.
“Open the door,” Ellington barked.
Givens jumped at the tone in his voice and did as he asked. Ellington saw that the bastard was actually crying as he led him into the shed.
“Are there lights in here?” Ellington asked.
“Yeah. On the post to your right.”
Still keeping the gun targeted at Givens, Ellington felt around on the post and finally found a light switch. Two overhead bulbs came to life overhead, revealing the rest of the shed. From her cattle container, Missy Hale let out a breathy “Oh, thank God!”
Ellington took a quick inventory of the shed. There were two of the containers. One was pressed all the way against the back wall. The other was nearly positioned in the center of the shed. The idea that he had been standing less than fifteen feet away from it about eleven hours ago made him feel sick to his stomach.
He also saw black spray paint on a little workbench along the far wall. Beside it was a box of old glass vases and bowls. That’s how he got Delores Manning, Ellington thought. How many more did he plan to get like that?
“Open the cages,” Ellington said.
“Please,” Givens pleaded. “You have to understand. I—”
“Shut your mouth and open those cages.”
Givens approached Missy’s cage, his hands still trembling. He reached out for the bar that had been slid across the gate. It held a smaller vertical bar in place, serving as the locking system. Yet when he pulled on the bar, nothing happened.
“Don’t fuck with me,” Ellington said. “Open it!”
“I’m trying,” Givens whined. It’s stuck or something. This one always had a stick to it.”
Ellington stepped forward and pushed Givens into the front of the cage. “Stop playing around and do it. I already want to shoot you. I dare you to give me another reason.”
Givens was finally able to undo the latch, spring the sheet of chicken wire inside, and then push the gate open. Inside, Missy Hale whimpered her relief.
And then she did something totally unexpected. She dove at Givens, letting out a scream of primal fury. They both went to the ground and when they did, Givens took complete advantage.
“You bitch,” he hissed as he rolled on top of her. His hands went to her neck and he bore down with all of his weight.
Ellington placed his hands on Givens’s shoulders and pulled him off. He threw him to the floor hard and went into a motion to drop a knee into Givens’s crotch. As he dropped down, though, Givens brought a knee up, catching Ellington in the stomach. He wheeled back a bit, tripping over Missy’s legs.
He stumbled back, feeling foolish and taken off of his feet. By the time he regained his footing, Givens was coming at him. He pushed Ellington hard against the wall, knocking the box of glass bowls from the bench. Givens found a two-by-four propped against the wall and was now rearing back as if it were a baseball bat.
With no other choice, Ellington fired the Glock. It took Givens in the right arm but it did not slow him down. He fired a second shot, this one taking him in the center of the chest.
This second shot slowed him momentarily but he continued to come rushing at Ellington, driving a shoulder into his stomach. Ellington brought the butt of the Glock down on the base of Givens’s neck three times in quick succession, making him rear back.
As Ellington advanced, taking a shooter’s stance, Givens acted quickly. He drew the two-by-four up in a hard arc, catching Ellington in the chest. It felt like he had been hit by a car as he staggered back. Givens came again, raising the board. Ignoring the pain, Ellington threw out a hard jab directly into Givens’s left knee. He then delivered two punches to his stomach but still, Givens would not go down. He swung the two-by-four again. In return, Ellington fired a third shot.
The shot blew the board apart, but not before the board slammed into Ellington’s wrists. The Glock went flying immediately after being fired and Givens screamed. Either the bullet or the splintered wood had sliced open the side of his brow. Blood was pouring out of it but still, the bastard was coming for him.
Givens raised the small portion of board that remained. Ellington could only draw his arm up, hoping to deliver a punch before Givens. But before he could do so, the board slammed into his arm. Electric pain shot up his arm as Givens drew the board back again. Ellington protected his head in a boxer’s defensive stance. Although it did save his head, there was a splintering noise as two fingers on his left hand were broken.
Ellington was barely aware of Mackenzie screaming his name from somewhere else in the shed as Givens brought the fraction of board down again and again.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
“Jared!”
Ellington’s first name coming out of her mouth sounded odd, but it was the first noise her heart and lungs produced when the second attack from the two-by-four obliterated his left hand. Mackenzie banged helplessly on the container, watching it all play out. She knew Ellington was tough but there was a crazed sort of urgency to Givens’s attacks that she had experienced firsthand.
She did notice that Givens wasn’t able to get a full grasp on the two-by-four due to his own broken thumb—the thumb she had broken in a last-ditch effort before she’d been shoved into her cage. Hopefully that would take some of the power out of his swing.
She was about to yell again, hoping to maybe distract Givens, when a face suddenly appeared in front of the rectangular slats of the container. It was Missy Hale. Mackenzie had been so worried about Ellington that she’d nearly forgotten that Missy had been freed.
Missy looked back, making sure Givens was occupied, and then grabbed the bar holding the pin lock in. She had to put a bit of force into it but the bar clanged open. With another pull, the door opened up. Mackenzie started forward but then saw that Givens was advancing toward them, the splintered two-by-four drawn over his head.
Mackenzie shoved Missy out of the way just as the board came sailing down. It struck the side of the container, splinteri
ng the remainder of the board in half. Mackenzie used the jolt of the impact to her advantage and delivered a sweeping kick to Givens’s shins. She put as much force as she could into it and he nearly lost his feet. But her back was still in excruciating pain and she was not able to put all of her strength into it.
Crying out in pain, she delivered a right-handed jab as he staggered against the container. It caught him in the chin and when his head rocked back, she delivered an open-handed palm strike to his throat.
He gagged and looked at her with wide, shocked eyes. She had busted his lip and his brow was still bleeding; the entire left side of his face was a sheet of blood. She tried to draw back for another punch but her back locked up on her. The bad news was that she was immobilized in that moment but the good news was that it made her certain that whatever was going on back there was only muscular, not spinal.
As he came at her, Ellington cut him off in a football-style tackle. Both men went to the floor in front of the container. Ellington had the upper hand but she saw that he was unable to use his left hand as a result of the board attack. As she watched, Givens brought a hard right hand up, catching Ellington in the side of the face. The bastard had been shot three, maybe four times and was still finding the strength to fight.
Mackenzie ran over to help but as Ellington fell off of Givens and the psycho got to his feet, he sprang at her. He was going for her knees in a football tackle–style attack. The shots he had taken had slowed him, though. Mackenzie was easily able to sidestep him. When she did, he slammed directly into the side of the container that had been holding Missy. The impact broke the chicken wire sheet from the front lip of the crate and the chicken wire fell over him. He fought with it, trying to get to his feet.
Mackenzie wasn’t having it, though. She drew the gate of the container open as far as it would go and then slammed it, catching him in it. He howled and kicked out for her, striking her bad knee. She felt herself falling, unable to stop, and collided with him on the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. As they fought for position, her fingers found the chicken wire. They were both tangled in it, but she had more leverage and better position.
She bunched the wire into her fists. She could feel it cutting into her palms but she did not care. She clenched it tight and pushed down against his neck.
His eyes grew wide as she placed all of her strength into it.Every movement was beyond painful, jolts of sharp pain racing down her back and into her legs. She pushed past it, knowing that she had to. Beneath her, he started to choke.
You have to stop, she thought. Let him live. Get some answers.
But she remembered what it was like to be in that cage. She thought of the other women he had taken and placed in those same cages. She thought of him tracking them down on the back roads…and she was unable to stop.
“Mackenzie, stop!”
It was Ellington. His hands were on her arms and he was lifting her off of him.
He drew her off of Givens and she wanted to cry. She wasn’t sure why but she could feel it boiling up inside of her. Ellington started to lower himself down to Givens but didn’t bother. Whether it was the gunshots or Mackenzie’s final assault, he wasn’t moving. He was still alive, his breaths coming in hard and laborious pushes, but he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. Mackenzie noticed Missy Hale at the front of the barn, looking at him like a child might observe a coiled snake.
“You okay?” Mackenzie asked her, distracting herself from the weeping fit that was still trying to break through.
Missy only nodded.
“How about you?” she asked Ellington.
“A few fingers busted up, but I’ll be okay. You?”
“I’m fine,” she said through clenched teeth. The need to cry was passing but the pain in her back was terrible. Prideful or not, she was not going to show a sign of weakness until Givens was in the back of a patrol car. “Call this in, would you? He sort of destroyed my phone.”
Ellington reached for his phone to do just that when a strangled voice stopped him.
“Sorry…”
It was Givens, speaking through blood and a choked wind supply. Mackenzie and Ellington looked down at him, weary and a little disgusted.
“Well then, I’m going to have Missy make the call. You good with that?”
“I just wanted someone to love me,” Givens said.
Mackenzie recalled his obscure references to love while sitting in his living room and a chill rode down her spine. There was genuine pain in his voice, a clear confusion that reminded Mackenzie that even the most sadistic of people had a broken part of them that was vulnerable and human down at the core of it all.
It was a thought that stuck with her, clinging to her thoughts like cobwebs, until the night was broken by the sound of police sirens five minutes later.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
As the night stretched on toward midnight, two things became clear: first, both Mackenzie and Ellington were going to the hospital; second, Harry Givens was not going to live to see morning.
Mackenzie’s back had started to spasm and the right side of her face had swollen more than she’d thought from the hammer blow she had taken there. As for Ellington, two fingers on his left hand were broken. From the looks of it, Mackenzie thought the damage extended down into his hand. Through all of it, though, the thing that hurt Mackenzie worst of all was that with Givens likely dying, he would not be able to give the location of the missing women. Although Delores had said she heard another woman’s voice in the other shed, that shed turned out to be empty.
Mackenzie and Ellington were both sitting in the back of Bateman’s patrol car as Officer Roberts, in the passenger seat, made the call to hospital in Cedar Rapids, letting them know that two FBI agents would be headed their way soon. Bateman was driving, but had very little to say.
The little he did have to say had come in the form of a phone call several minutes ago. It had come from Wickline at the station, giving the little bit of information the paramedics and Givens’s brief criminal record had to offer.
“Givens says there were five women in all,” Bateman said. “He took the first almost a year ago, so he apparently had nothing to do with Vicki McCauley. That’s all he was able to tell the paramedics before he passed out. We don’t know where he took them or if they are even alive. As you know, the other shed turned up empty. But indications are that he got rid of whoever was in the container pretty recently.”
“Any word on where Crystal Hall and Naomi Nyles are?” Ellington asked.
“No. They say he only spoke for about ten seconds. He’s in pretty bad shape.”
Mackenzie thought she heard blame in his voice. That was okay, though. As an officer, he understood that they did what was necessary in order to survive. Still, she could also tell that Bateman was more than ready to be rid of them.
Mackenzie recalled Givens saying “I just wanted someone to love me…” and for some reason, she felt certain that the women he had taken were alive.
“When we’re cleared at the hospital, we can help with the search if you like,” Mackenzie said.
“You’re welcome to,” Bateman said. “But we’ve got five teams of men out looking for Crystal Hall and Naomi Nyles. When the snow melts in a few days, it’ll be easier, but by then…”
“Sounds good,” Mackenzie said, knowing where he was going by trailing off.
“By the way,” Bateman said, “you might find interesting what Wickline and some of the others at the station were able to pull up on Givens. Seems he spent most of his childhood seeing a psychiatrist. His mom got routinely abused in front of him by a father that later went on to kill himself. And then in college, he was involved in an almost-kidnapping where he snapped on an ex-girlfriend by not letting her out of the car while driving across three states.”
Sort of perfect in terms of painting a picture of what I’d expect a guy like Givens to be like, she thought. How did he go so long without snapping like this? And how did he stay unde
r the radar for so long?
They were both scary thoughts.
“You didn’t have to drive us to the hospital,” Mackenzie said, trying to eliminate the tension within the car.
“Please,” Ellington said beside her. “You can barely walk. And you can’t drive that well when you’re not all busted up.”
Bateman and Roberts chuckled in the front and for a moment, things seemed okay. This was especially true when Ellington reached over with his good hand and took hers. She nearly pulled it away out of instinct but, instead, gave his a squeeze.
“You were awesome tonight,” he whispered. “I got to see that stubborn streak of yours that usually pans out for the good. I think the bureau needs to start paying attention to that.”
“I wasn’t so awesome. I did end up in a cattle cage.”
“True. But you found the guy and led me right to him. And I was there earlier in the day. I could have prevented that happening to you and I didn’t. And if it weren’t for you, I’d be dead in that same barn right now.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that. The way he was looking at her, speaking to her, and holding her hand…it was new to her. She could not remember the last time someone had cared so much about her. Sure, Bryers had done so there near the end, but with the chemistry between her and Ellington, it was different.
It was exciting and filled her with a weird sort of hope that she did not fully understand. And that was why it was so scary.
She gave him a smile and released his hand.
Outside, the snow blazed by in white streaks. Somewhere out there in that world of white, two women were missing—alive or dead was anyone’s guess. She’d been unable to find them and while she knew she was not responsible for them, she did feel as if she had failed them. She thought of Bryers and wondered what sort of pep talk he’d give her.
Of course, her old partner was gone, no longer part of that world of white. And while she technically had a replacement partner in DC, the feeling of Ellington beside her made her feel safe. More than that, it made her feel connected to something. And she had not felt that in a very long time.