by Sasha Goldie
He raised his hand to hit Corey again, and I squealed. The last thing I wanted was my friend hurt.
"You don't like it when I hit him?" he asked me. "Okay, pretty boy, I won't hit him." He paced more. "I've been trying to kill you for weeks. I'd been keeping an eye on you. Your social media profile made it disgustingly easy. At first, everyone asked you if you knew who hit you and you answered them all the time. You couldn't remember. I wasn't sure if you were just saying that to be safe, or if you really couldn't remember."
He sat on the only remaining chair, turning it around to sit backward. "Then, I started thinking, what if he does remember? Maybe he saw the El Camino. Maybe he saw me. So, I came and set up a camera in your little apartment. And fuck, you and your pretty boyfriend are boring as two little old ladies. Do you ever do anything fun?"
I shook my head no. What else could I do?
"Yeah, I know you don't. The first few times I broke in, I was setting the camera. Then you caught me, I left a mess that time to make it look like someone was looking for something or maybe you'd think the dog did it. I heard you coming that time, too and didn't have time to let the dog out of the bathroom. I was in there several times that you didn't know until you changed the lock to one I couldn't open with my credit card." He rolled his eyes. "I still couldn't catch you saying whether or not you remembered me."
I shook my head vigorously and grunted, trying to make him understand I didn't remember him. He stood and leaned over his chair, tugging down the gag.
"I didn't. The only thing I remembered was the vague shape of a taillight, but that wouldn't be enough to go on. And Brady already said he checked the El Camino, and there was no evidence on it. He thought it was you, but there was no proof. If you'd never come back, we wouldn't have ever known for sure."
"That's what I was afraid of." He tapped himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand. "Stupid. All that wasted effort." Shrugging, he leaned forward and pulled my gag back up.
"Still, better safe than sorry. I've been thinking up ways to kill you and make it look like an accident. I messed with your car at your parents' house, but you had to go and have seizures. So you can't drive. Then I put cyanide in some food in your fridge, but the next time I went, it was still there. You don't like leftovers?"
I shook my head no. Oh my god, Patrick loved leftovers. He could've easily eaten them. But if it was the Indian food we'd gotten, it had been too spicy for him, so he hadn't wanted any more. He threw it away a week later when he cleaned out the fridge.
"Finally, I caught you both in the same car. What luck. But I didn't quite manage to run you off the road. That would've been lucky, but that damn car drove up at the lousiest time." He shook his head, disappointed at his luck. "So, I set fire to the diner. And you got out. I'm just not cut out for this kind of work. I'm sticking to running drugs from now on."
I jerked my head toward the door. He could let us go, then go back to his illustrious career.
"No, I gotta kill you first. I'm going to have to be direct about it. One shot to each of ya's heads. I tried the indirect route, but it didn't work out. Sorry for the fuss." He smiled at me. "By the time they realize where the fire originated, I'll be long gone, and your bodies will be ash."
"You're going to set us on fire?" I asked in alarm through my gag. Moving it had loosened it slightly, so he understood me, even though it was muffled.
Corey was as still as a statue, staring at John with murder in his eyes.
"Well, I'm gonna shoot you first." He sighed. "Man needs a bit of liquid courage for a nasty job like this. I'll be back in a minute." He curled his lip at us and walked out the door. Soon the sound of the four-wheeler starting up reached us. I looked at Corey in delight. We'd get out of there after all.
Working quickly, I scraped my hands out of the ropes. He hadn't tied them nearly tight enough, somehow tying around my hands instead of my wrists.
When my hands were free, I yanked the gag down and dove to untie Corey. His were much tighter. He grunted and shook his head, so I reached up and jerked the ball of material out of his mouth.
"There's a knife over there." The small kitchen area consisted of a sink and counter. Maybe once there had been a wood stove, but it was gone now. The sink had an old-fashioned pump handle, like on the pioneer TV shows.
A plain, dull kitchen knife sat beside the sink. I grabbed it and hurried back to Corey, wedging it between the thick rope and sawing. "It's dull," I said. "I'm trying."
"He's probably going to my car. He had a couple of bottles of liquor in it. I caused a ruckus when he moved me from the car to the four-wheeler, and he forgot it. It's about a mile down a trail, pulled off the road and covered with brush. I'd say we could go that way, but if he saw us on the way back, we'd be screwed."
"Do you know where we are? I got so turned around on the drive through the woods."
"You came through the woods?" he asked, shocked.
"He made me walk barefoot for ages. It felt like so long."
"If you walked, it was miles. We're near the lake!"
Wow. I wasn't sure how far away from town the four-wheeler had been parked, but it had to be far enough that nobody would hear it start up, and I knew we'd walked at least an hour. Felt more like two.
"I'd say we walked at least two miles," I whispered as the rope finally came free.
Corey pulled his arms around with a loud groan. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."
"Corey, I think we should split up. If we're near the lake, then I know what this cabin is. It belongs to a friend of my Uncle Duke. I haven't been up here in years."
"Did you not recognize it?"
I shook my head as I looked around the room, moving to look under the bed and table. "I need shoes." He helped me search, but it only took seconds. The room didn't hold any hiding places, and there weren't any shoes. I took his gag and mine and tied them around my feet the best I could. "I was too shaken when we pulled up. The four-wheeler had me freezing, not to mention in pain and scared. Listen, I'm going to go toward the lake. You follow the trail toward your car. If you hear him coming, hide until he goes by then fucking hightail it to your car."
"He has my keys," he hissed, opening the door a crack and looking out.
"Then follow the road until someone drives by. It's the main highway?"
"No, it's just a tiny fucking mountain road. Nobody will drive by."
"We can't go together. If he catches both of us, neither of us stand a chance."
"Okay," he said. "What will you do at the lake?"
"You don't know this area like I do, now that I'm oriented. There are a bunch of vacation homes up here. If I can get to one, I can call the police and tell them where we are. I don't know which road he's got your car on, but I'm sure Brady will. He and Ian used to like to come up here and hunt with Duke."
"Ugh, hunting."
"I agree. Let's go."
I gave him the knife. "I'll find another one when I get to one of the houses."
He yanked me into a tight hug, then opened the door. We ran out as fast as we could. Corey was much faster, since he had shoes on. I turned toward the woods. The dark, scary woods.
"Good luck," Corey whispered and took a small path I hadn’t noticed before. It was directly under the spot John had parked the four-wheeler. It must’ve led to the road.
"You too." I stepped into the grass and turned in the opposite direction.
Limping, the feeling in my feet coming back, I walked back into the woods and in the direction I was sure would take me to the lake. If my memory served, it should only be a short walk to the edge of the water, but a longer walk around the lake to one of the vacation homes. It was a large span of water, but only a handful of houses had been built on it. And half of it was on the reserve land now.
With any luck, I'd get to a phone before John even knew I wasn't in the shack.
"Good luck, Corey," I whispered as I disappeared into the black trees.
24
> Patrick
“Son, I know you’re upset, but I think we'll have to wait till morning. Neither of their cell phones are giving us anything. John owns nothing. Except for his many warrants, he doesn't come up in any system. The bastard doesn't even have any credit.”
The FBI agent tried to calm me down, again, but I wouldn't be calmed.
"He's going to kill them," Brady muttered. He'd been taken off the case as soon as the agents had turned up. They still wanted to use the resources of the state police and the Three Lakes department, but Brady was deemed too close to the situation and benched.
He hadn't been happy about it.
"We've got every available patrol car driving the mountain roads. There are roadblocks on every main road out of here. At first light, we'll follow your theory."
Not that he gave it any credence. I thought they'd gone out the back and into the woods. It made sense when we considered how John had disappeared before, without a trace. He wasn't driving. He was walking into the woods behind the town. It was the only thing that made the dots connect.
Brady agreed. He stood and walked out of the closest bay door. I followed. "Brady," I said softly. "We could go out back with flashlights and see if we can see a trail leading from the back door."
He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "No, he's right. As much as I want to run out and hunt for them as fast as I can, us getting lost in the woods wouldn't do anyone any good."
I kicked a stray rock in the lot. He was right. "This is insanity. How is this happening?"
"I wish I knew. I wish I knew how he got out of jail."
"What was the technicality?"
"Something to do with the way the state handled the evidence." Brady stuck his hands in his pockets and walked over to his truck, leaning against it. "He never should've been let back out on the streets."
I shook my head, in total agreement. "Has Corey ever said anything about him liking to come up to the mountains or having a place nearby he used to stay?"
"No."
If he got past the roadblock, it was possible we'd never find them. We didn't know what kind of car we were after. He was most likely driving something stolen. The APB mentioned Corey's car, but he could've abandoned it and gone in someone's that wouldn't even know until they got up to go to work the next day.
I couldn't think like that. He had to be nearby, biding his time, and giving us time to find them.
"I kept telling Corey I wanted to buy him a new car," Brady whispered. "But he said his car was the first thing he'd ever bought himself, and he was so damn proud of it. If I'd insisted on getting him something, it would be newer and have GPS."
I put my hand on his arm. "You couldn't have done that. If he was proud of his car, then it wouldn't have been right."
"I know, but we could've tracked the car and gotten a lead."
"We'll find them in the morning," I said. "If John wanted to kill them, he could've done it several times over the past few weeks. He'll probably call with a ransom demand."
He nodded, looking up at the dark sky. I checked my watch. "It'll be light soon." I'd left work at three, and it was nearly five. The sun didn't rise until nearly seven. I knew because the few times I'd been able to cut out of my night shift job a few minutes early, I'd been able to watch the sunrise.
"Two more hours." It felt like the sunrise would bring an end to the pain, like it would have all the answers. "We'll go find them."
The phone rang inside the shop, and Brady and I both ran for it.
The detective pressed some buttons on his computer then pointed at me. If it was a ransom call, he was prepared to trace it.
"Hello?" I asked.
"Patrick?"
It was Carson. "Hey, how's Harry?"
"Sorry it's taken so long, they had to run some tests. They got him awake and think he was given a standard doggie sedation. They got him to vomit and some of the pill was still in his stomach."
"Oh, thank goodness." I covered the mouthpiece. "Harry is okay."
"Who is Harry?" one of the detectives asked in the background.
"Does he need to stay there?" I asked Carson.
"Yeah, overnight. I'm on my way back to you now."
"Thanks, Carson." I hung up the line. "A little bit of good news." I tried to smile bravely, but ended up sobbing instead.
Brady wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. "I know."
Headlights shone on us as a car pulled into the parking lot. We pulled apart and I looked to see who it was. Tyler's parents. Ugh. I felt awful. I hadn't even thought about calling them.
"Did you call them?" I asked Brady.
"Yeah, when it seemed clear we wouldn't be able to find them quickly."
"If anyone asks, I suggested it first thing."
He snorted. "Okay."
They got out of the car and walked over to me and Brady. "Any news?"
We both shook our heads. "I'm so sorry," I whispered. His mom sobbed and fell into my arms.
"Why is this happening to him?" she cried. "He's such a good boy."
I didn't know what to say. Tears poured down my cheeks as I rubbed her back. "He is, he's good and pure. This was a bad situation caused by a bad man."
Tyler's dad shook Brady's hand. "I'm sorry about Corey," he said gruffly. His voice was choked up.
"Where's Daisy?" I asked.
"She's on her way. Duke tried to leave the hospital when he heard, but she swore she'd update him the minute we know something."
"Excuse me?" The lead FBI agent walked over to us. "I'm Agent Morris. Are you Tyler's parents?"
They nodded.
"I know this is a difficult time, but would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"
"Of course not," Tyler's mom said. "I'm Ann, and this is my husband Robert. Green."
Agent Morris made notes of their names on his little scratchpad. "And Tyler lived with you when he got out of the hospital?"
Ann nodded. "Yes, but he's always been an independent boy. He couldn't stand the chafe of living back with us. We have rules, we expect them to be followed even by our son as an adult."
Agent Morris raised his eyebrow. "Rules?"
Robert grunted. "Curfew. Bedtimes. Not acting like a hooligan."
"I understand."
Geez, so did I. Bedtimes? No wonder Tyler insisted on living alone.
"And why didn't he go back to his other apartment?"
Ann shrugged. "We had to let it go while he was in a coma. We moved most of his things to a storage building."
Morris nodded. "Did you know about the reports of stalking?"
"Some, but we really thought it was Tyler being dramatic until the fire. Of course, we didn't know about him and Corey being run off the road until Brady told us when he called." Ann sniffed and dabbed at her nose with a hankie. "I wish we'd known. We could've come and stayed with him or he could've come home until the lunatic was caught."
Why hadn't I thought of that? He could've spent a few nights there, and given John time to do something to get himself caught.
He continued asking questions, many the same as the ones he'd asked me. Probably looking for differences in our stories, or something to stand out that might help him pursue a lead.
Nothing did, unfortunately. Nothing to do still, but wait for the light. And all its answers.
“A search party!” Brady exclaimed.
“What?” I tried to focus, but my brain was in hardcore overload.
“We can get a search party ready for dawn. I’m such an idiot. I guess that’s why they took me off the case. If this was happening to someone else, I would’ve already gotten to it. It’s like I’ve forgotten everything I’ve ever learned on the force.”
“How do you get a search party going at this time of the morning?” I asked, stepping forward.
“We have a chain, volunteers, members of the community. A phone chain. All I have to do is activate it.” He ran into the shop. “I need the phone, for just a minute.”
<
br /> I followed in time to hear the agent’s response. “We need to keep the line clear. Why?”
“I’m going to mount a search party to go into the woods at first light.”
“That’s a great idea, but it’s a little premature.” Agent Morris put his hands on his hips. “We don’t have any proof they went that way.”
“I’m going to mount my search party. At first light, if we find any tracks into those woods, I’m taking them to search. And that’s all there is to it.”
Morris sighed and nodded. “All right. But you’re only taking them if I find proof. I have to see it for myself. Otherwise, you send them home.”
Brady nodded. “Agreed. I’ll run over to the diner and use the phone.”
Daisy held out the key, and Brady snagged it as he ran out the door.
Finally, something we could do to help.
25
Tyler
I didn't make it five feet into the woods when I heard the four-wheeler returning. Damn. He'd been fast. I took off. As long as I could hear the engine, John couldn't hear me crashing through the trees. I made all the noise I needed to put distance between us. Unfortunately, that meant falling a couple of times in the dark. I couldn't see shit.
As soon as he cut it off, I slowed, and luck finally gave me a break. I stumbled onto a path. If I hadn't felt the sandy dirt under my toes, I wouldn't have even known it was there. It was too dark. I squinted and lurched forward, trying to stay on it. Waving my hands out in front of me, I stumbled from tree to tree, going far slower than I'd like, but I was quiet, at least. If I was right about our location, I should break out into the lake clearing pretty soon.
"Tyler!" John's shout echoed into the forest. "Corey! I know where you are! I can see your footprints in the damp grass."
No. Corey hadn't gone on the grass. He'd taken the path. John was coming after me.
Okay, just had to speed up. I moved faster, still trying to stay quiet, stay on the path, but go from tree to tree even quicker. I ran right into them more than one time when the path turned directions unexpectedly.