Profile of Terror: Book Two of Profile Series

by Alexa Grace

  "Sorry. I zoned out for a minute. Didn't realize how close I was to his car. I'm not used to driving so slow." Evan pulled off his painter's cap, too, and wished they'd had the van's air conditioner fixed. Their father had been hounding them to fix it for a week. He rolled down his window for some fresh air.

  "Ryder's driving the speed limit. The last thing he needs is to draw attention to himself."

  "Did you see that?"

  "What?"

  "The plastic cover on his back lights just flew off." Evan began laughing. "Look! Carly Stone is waving her hand through the hole where the brake light used to be!"

  <><><>

  "Brody!" Gabe said excitedly. "I think I found her. Just hovered over what looks like a Toyota or Mazda. There is heat emanating from the trunk. There's definitely someone locked inside. Besides the white van behind it, the car is the only one on the road for miles."

  "Stay with the car, but do what you can to make sure Ryder doesn't notice you."

  "No problem. The car's approaching the 136 and 341 intersection in Hillsboro."

  "Let me know if it turns."

  "It's turning and is now heading north on U.S. Route 341."

  "Okay, thanks."

  "Wait a minute. The van is turning to go in the same direction."

  "Got it. Keep an eye on both vehicles."

  <><><>

  Turning the van onto 341 to follow Ryder, Evan said, "Damn him. Where is he going? Look how low our gas gauge is."

  "He's been missing for weeks. Ryder must have a hideout. How else could he have avoided capture for so long? Keep following him until he either slows down, or we run out of gas."

  "Devan, if he doesn't do something soon to give us an opening—"

  "Okay, okay. Let me think." Several minutes passed before Devan said, "I've got two ideas."

  "Let's hear them, and make it fast."

  "We could ram his car with the van—"

  "No way," interrupted Evan. "He could spin out and land upside-down in a ditch. Isn't that what happened to Joey Dickson last year when he totaled his brand-new Accord?"

  "I forgot about that. Some idiot was tailgating his car and didn't see Joey slowing down for a turn. Slammed right into him. Poor Joey spent a month in the hospital."

  "Not such a good idea to ram Ryder's car if we want our target alive. Besides, law enforcement might not pay the entire $20,000 reward if we deliver Ryder and he's dead."

  "So the reward is now sounding good to you, Evan?"

  "Oh, yeah. Let's use the money to buy a Corvette. I'm sick of this van."

  "A Corvette? Hell, yes. A red one."

  Evan thought for a second. "How about a souped-up Dodge Ram?"

  "Yeah, Rams are cool. But what about a Jeep Wrangler with the works? We could take it off-roading."

  Shooting a smile to Devan, he said, "You had me at off-roading!"

  "Look out! Ryder's turning!"

  Slamming on the brakes, Evan said, "I missed the turn. Sorry about that." He swung the van into a U-turn, and then back-tracked until he turned onto Monroe Road. He quickly caught up with Ryder's car.

  Evan's heart beat wildly. "What's the second idea you had before we got distracted?"

  "We blink the high-beams at him until he pulls over. On the pretense of telling him his brake lights are out, I walk up to his driver-side window and jab him with the stun gun. Lights out. You help me drag him, and then we shove him into the back of the van. Hello, Rohypnol injection, and good night, Jim Ryder. Next stop, county sheriff office."

  "I like it," said Evan. "After we get Ryder settled in, we get Special Agent Stone out of the trunk, and give her a taste of the stun gun with a Rohypnol chaser, too."

  <><><>

  "Brody, Ryder just turned onto Monroe Road. He's almost to the quarry."

  "Okay. Be there soon."

  "Remember that white van I told you about. It missed the turn to Monroe Road and is doing a U-turn."

  "What?"

  "Yeah, now the van is turning onto Monroe Road, too."

  "This is too much of a coincidence. That van is following Ryder. It's the fucking Gamers. I just know it is!"

  "Why would they be chasing after Ryder? Doesn't make sense."

  Brody's mind raced. There was a connection between the Gamers and Jim Ryder. What was it? He remembered one of the interviews Carly had with Ryder. "Gabe, Ryder told Carly that the Gamers had slipped a note to him during his trial."

  "The Gamers attended Ryder's trial? Is there a risk they won't take?"

  "Ryder said they were trying to impress him with their murders."

  "So you think they were tailing Ryder to and from the community center?"

  "That doesn't make much sense, does it? How could they have found Ryder's hideout when our deputies, the FBI and U.S. Marshals couldn't find it?"

  "No, it doesn't gel."

  Kaitlyn turned in her seat beside Gabe and spoke loud enough for Brody to hear. "What if the Gamers didn't tail Ryder to the community center? What if they were already there, waiting?"

  "How would they know Ryder would be at the community center in Morel? Why wait for him there?" asked Brody.

  "Oh, my God," said Kaitlyn. "The Gamers weren't waiting for Ryder. They found out Carly was teaching her class there. They were waiting for Carly!"

  "I don't know," Brody said doubtfully.

  "I think Cat's right," Gabe gasped. "The white van is now close to Ryder's car, almost touching his bumper. Their headlights are on bright and flashing wildly. It looks like they're trying to get him to pull over."

  Slamming on the accelerator, Brody's SUV thrust ahead. His need to keep Carly safe overrode every reasonable thought. He had to get to her before it was too late.

  <><><>

  Evan flicked on the van's bright headlights and then started flashing them on and off. This went on for several minutes. "What do I do now? He's not pulling over."

  "Get closer. Get so close to the bastard that you're practically touching his bumper."

  Cutting the distance between the two vehicles, Evan continued to flash the high beams. Soon Ryder slowed down and pulled off the road.

  Devan reached under his seat and pulled out his stun gun. "Time for Ryder to find out who's boss." Turning off the van's interior light, he eased out of the passenger seat.

  Evan climbed into the back of the van, grabbed his Morel High School athletic bag, and pulled out a syringe. Slipping it into his back pocket, he then carefully withdrew his father's prized "Dirty Harry" Smith & Wesson 44 Magnum and climbed out through the back door. By the time he reached the front of the van, Devan was at the rear of Ryder's car, and walking nonchalantly toward the driver-side window.

  "Hey, buddy!" Devan called out. Reaching the window, he leaned inside and said, "Did you know your brake—"

  "Do you know who you're dealing with? You little prick!" Ryder shouted.

  An explosion burst before Devan's eyes as agonizing pain pierced through his brain. A second shot impaled him. Blood burst out of his chest, and spread across his white coveralls. Devan fell to the ground as darkness overcame him.

  Now at the rear of Ryder's car, Evan froze, his heart slamming against his ribs and his knees shaking. He opened his mouth to scream Devan's name, but nothing came out. He crept to the passenger side of the car, aimed his father's handgun, and shot Jim Ryder until he ran out of bullets, until Ryder was bloodied unrecognizably, slumped against the steering wheel.

  Racing around the car, Evan reached his twin and sank to his knees, sick and shaken. He pulled Devan into his arms, rocking him back and forth, willing the lifeless body of his brother to be alive. It was then he saw the flashing lights of a vehicle speeding toward him. Above him were the glittering lights of a helicopter, its search light beaming to the ground, illuminating everything in its range. There was no time to get Devan or Carly into the van. Gently lowering Devan's body to the ground, he sprinted to the van, turned on the ignition, and hurtled the vehicle onto the road.
<
br />   <><><>

  "Brody, be careful. Something's happened. There is a body lying on the road!" Cupping the phone so Brody couldn't hear him, he whispered to Kaitlyn, "What was Carly wearing tonight at class?"

  "She had on a pair of sweats with a zipped hoodie. She said she'd owned the outfit since her training at Quantico."

  "What color?"

  "White. Both pieces were white."

  Gabe felt the blood drain from his face. "No. That can't be Carly's body in the road. Please, God, no."

  Up ahead Brody could see the tail lights of Ryder's car. It was parked on the side of the road.

  "Gabe, where's the van?"

  "I think the driver saw the lights of the helicopter and took off, heading north on Monroe Road."

  "Call Cam for backup. Have him get all deputies in the area to find the van."

  Rolling to a stop, Brody pushed the gear into park, but left the engine running, along with his bright headlights. He could see Ryder's dark silhouette in the driver seat. With the blades of the helicopter roaring overhead, Brody pulled his gun out of its holster, grabbed his flashlight, and climbed out of the SUV. In a low, crouched position, he hurried to the back of Ryder's car, stopped, and then sneaked a quick look around the vehicle. On the road next to the driver's door lay a body dressed in white. Aiming his flashlight in one hand, and his gun in the other, Brody crept closer. Blood completely covered the face, and soaked the chest area of the clothing, forming a widening dark pool on the pavement. Carly? His heart froze.

  Aiming the beam of his flashlight into the car's interior, he saw a man wearing a ball cap in the driver's seat. "Freeze!" Brody shouted. "Don't move a muscle, Ryder!"

  A wild thumping sounded from within the trunk. "Help me!" Keeping his gun and flashlight aimed, Brody backed up. "Carly? Baby, is that you?"

  "Brody, I'm in the trunk. Please be careful. I heard gunshots."

  "Just hold on. I'll get you out of there."

  Inching toward the driver's door, Brody said, "Put your hands out the window, Ryder. Do it now. I will not hesitate to shoot you."

  There was no movement.

  Brody stopped at the back door and aimed his flashlight inside. He could now see that the body of the man inside was slumped against the steering wheel, either unconscious or dead. Jerking open the driver's door, he yanked the handgun out of Ryder's clenched hand, then pressed his fingers on his wrist to get a pulse. There was none. Covered with blood, his body riddled with bullets, Jim Ryder was dead. Reaching across his body, Brody pulled the keys out of the ignition, raced to the back of the car, and opened the trunk. Carly lay inside in a fetal position, sobbing hysterically.

  "I'm here, Carly. You're safe." Brody gently lifted her out of the trunk and held her trembling body as she cried.

  "I thought I'd never see you again," she sobbed. "He was going to kill me."

  "It's over, baby," he said with a sigh of relief. "Jim Ryder isn't going to hurt you or anyone else ever again."

  Chapter Twelve

  Evan had just finished pumping gas into the van when he heard police sirens in the distance. Jumping into the vehicle, he circled the building until he could park the van behind it. Two county sheriff vehicles raced past.

  Closing his eyes, he rested his head against the steering wheel and tried to ignore the ache that had settled just behind his heart. Wailing hysterically in pain and anger, he visualized his twin's body lying on the highway. A pang of remorse shot through him. How could he have left Devan there all alone? He needed his brother, and didn't know if he could continue living without him. The only person who had ever loved him was gone.

  Gazing at his father's gun on the passenger seat, he wondered if he had the guts to point it to his temple and pull the trigger. Of the two, Devan was the one with the guts. He could do anything, no matter how unpleasant, without blinking an eye.

  Evan gritted his teeth as anger poured through him, boiling his blood, and clouding his brain. Sheriff Brody Chase and anyone he cared for would pay for his brother's death. He had nothing to lose. Evan had already lost the most important person in his life. He'd make sure the Chase family felt the knifing pain of loss.

  <><><>

  With the sleeve of her terrycloth robe, Carly wiped steam from the bathroom mirror.

  As soon as they'd returned from the hospital, she'd told Brody she needed some alone time. She'd stepped into a hot shower and emerged thirty minutes later. Had she washed away the Ryder nightmare? Not completely. But it was a start.

  "Carly, are you okay?" Brody tapped on the bathroom door.

  "Honey, I'm fine. I'm back in the home I love, with the man I adore. How could I not be fine?"

  "Just checking. You need to lie down soon. I've got an ice pack downstairs ready for your nose, like the doc recommended."

  "How about a glass of wine?"

  "No can do. You heard the doc," Brody chastised. "No alcohol."

  A smile creased her face but quickly disappeared as she gazed into the mirror. Tinges of purplish-blue appeared beneath both eyes and the right side of her face, where Ryder had punched her. One of her eyes was swollen shut, and the doctor confirmed her nose was broken. She resembled a young woman she'd had to arrest for prostitution in a human trafficking case. The woman had been beaten by one of her traffickers as an example to the rest of the women, who might be thinking of escape.

  Looking around the bathroom, Carly realized she'd forgotten a nightshirt. Aching all over, she yearned for something soft against her skin. Opening the door to the bedroom, she eyed Brody's dresser. There was nothing softer than one of Brody's undershirts. Pulling open a drawer, she fingered through the neatly stacked pile, searching for the oldest and softest shirt. She touched something and placed it in the palm of her hand. It was a black velvet jewelry box. Inside was a ring, an exquisite circle of glittering diamonds.

  Hearing Brody's footfalls on the stairs, she clicked the box shut, and put it under his pillow. She climbed into bed, and waited for him. Soon he entered the room, holding an ice pack and a tall glass of water.

  Brody's face brightened at the sight of her. Placing the items on the nightstand, he settled down on the bed. "I have this fantasy of playing doctor with you, but having you actually injured isn't exactly what I had in mind."

  His boldly handsome face smiled warmly down at her, as he lightly fingered a loose tendril of hair on her cheek. Carly reached out and clutched his hand.

  Nervously licking her lips, she cleared her throat. "Mr. Chase, I have something to say to you and please don't interrupt me. I need to get this out — all of it."

  His eyebrows rose inquiringly, but Brody said nothing. Carly squeezed his hand and continued, "I've never felt like I was part of a family before. When I was growing up, in the midst of our parents' divorce, it was just Blake and me. Thanks to you, I have the family and love I've always wanted. Everything that's happened has made me realize how much I love you, Brody. I've never felt this way about any man. I want you, your babies, and this wonderful life."

  Slipping the black jewelry box from beneath his pillow, she handed it to him. "Marry me, Brody."

  Gazing at the box in his hand, he opened it. "The jeweler told me this is called an eternity ring." Lovingly and gently, he kissed her lips. "That's what I want with you, Carly. An eternity."

  <><><>

  Evan blinked several times as his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room. He lay on the same bed where he'd watched his brother kill Abby Reece and Destiny Cooke. Glancing at the rows of plastic storage bins, he thought of the lethal games he and his brother had played for the past several years. They'd had a good run, and the cops had no clue.

  He'd gotten little sleep. When Evan wasn't reliving the nightmare of Devan's death, he lay awake plotting how he would avenge his twin by slicing into the Chase family until they bled.

  After he'd left the convenience store the previous night, he'd taken little-traveled country roads until he reached Morel, and then he'd headed t
o his father's storage unit business on the outskirts of town. Hiding the van behind the building, he unlocked the unit where he and his brother were supposed to be storing their athletic equipment. It was a lie the old man had bought, like usual, and soon the unit became the place where they imprisoned and murdered their targets. It now was a hiding place until Evan came up with a concrete plan to avenge his twin's death. He couldn't go home. How could he? Soon his parents would be notified that one of their sons was dead. He couldn't watch them grieve, knowing he'd left Devan behind, bleeding in the road like an animal struck by a car.