Motherfucker! Rage detonated inside him. Joe went for his gun holstered behind his back, but Kent was too fast. He pulled the trigger again.
Pop!
Pain exploded in Joe’s right shoulder—hot, burning… The impact knocked him back and he hit the floor.
“My rug!” Kent cried. “You’re bleeding on my rug!”
Desperate hands grabbed at him, caught his wrist, and pulled Joe off the rug. Pain seared through his shoulder as Kent wrenched his arm above his head, dragging him onto the hardwood floor.
“Fuck!” he snarled, his rage mildly numbing the pain as he tensed to sweep Kent’s legs and put the bastard on his ass, when the hot muzzle of his gun pressed into Joe’s temple.
“Don’t move, Oz. I don’t want to kill you yet, but I will.”
Hannah… She was the only thought that kept him from taking his chances and fighting this out. He had to save Hannah.
“Now, are you going to cooperate, or do I need to put another bullet in you?”
It went against every one of Joe’s instincts, but he dropped his head to the floor and surrendered. And that’s when he heard it…beneath the floorboards, with his ear pressed to the oak planks—the soft rattle of a chain and the muffled sound of choking sobs.
The floor… She’s beneath the floor!
With his gun still pressed to Joe’s temple, Kent used his free hand to pull Joe’s gun from his holster. Just as he began to give Joe a quick pat-down, his cell began to vibrate. Kent pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the caller ID. “Someone named Tink is trying to call you.” He pressed a button to send the call to voicemail and then tossed it on the couch. Pulling a long zip-tie from his pocket, he placed it in Joe’s good hand and then rose. Stepping a safe distance from him, he kept the gun pointed at Joe as he instructed, “Get up and bind your wrists.”
Glaring at the bastard, Joe pushed to his feet, fighting through the wave of dizziness that washed over him. He was losing a lot of blood, the steady flow running down his arm, dripping off his elbow. He didn’t take his eyes off Kent long enough to assess the damage. Keeping his arm pressed against his side to minimize movement, he slipped the end of the zip-tie through the lock until the catch clicked and then worked his hands through the loop.
Kent gave him a triumphant grin as Joe held his stare. Gritting his teeth against the agony in his shoulder, he exhaled a pained groan as he raised his arms high enough to catch the tail of the tie with his teeth and then pulled it tight until the plastic band bit sharply into his wrists. Before letting go of the tail, he made sure the lock—the tie’s weakest point—was positioned between his wrists.
From the corner of his eye, he could see the screen on his cell light up with an incoming call. Sam was trying to reach him again. When a text message popped up on the display, he chanced a quick glance.
Warrant came through. You’re not answering. Sending backup.
Great. Considering Kent lived in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, Joe just needed to keep the guy distracted and himself from bleeding out for the next…half hour. His gaze cut to Dex, lying on the floor, a pool of blood beneath him. It was too late. There was nothing he could do for his partner. Swallowing back the emotion lodged in his throat, Joe cleared his voice and said, “Even if you kill me, you’re never going to get away with this. We know who you are, William Rabine.”
Surprise briefly flickered over Kent’s face, and just maybe, there was a moment of fear, but then it was gone, replaced by that mask of arrogance that made Joe want to throat-punch the bastard.
“We? Or you? Considering you’re here alone, I’m guessing you’re the only one that’s figured it out. You’re one hell of a good detective. I’ll give you that much, Oz. But I’m curious… How did you know it was me?”
“It wasn’t easy. No one wants to believe that one of their own could be capable of something like this. You’ve got to be willing to see the things you want to ignore.”
Kent considered that a moment and then nodded. “I’ve been wondering if it was going to come to this. The sad thing is, I really do like you, Oz.”
“I’m sorry, the feeling isn’t mutual.”
“You’ve been an entertaining adversary. Challenging me to be my very best, and I’ve made mistakes… I’m not too proud to admit that. Killing you will bring me no pleasure. Although I can’t say the same will be true for Hannah. I’ve wanted her from the moment I saw her. But she was untouchable. A good Amish girl… But then you came along and changed all that. I should be thanking you, really. If not for you, I wouldn’t have her. I’d be stuck, forever watching the object of my deepest desire. I saw you that night…from the loft as you fucked her, imagining it was me making her scream. But now it will be, because you turned her into a whore. Just like her sister—”
“You mean just like your sister!” Joe snarled, fury licking through his veins like kerosene. “That’s why you’re doing this, isn’t it?” he baited. “What’d you do, catch your sister fucking an Englisher? Since you like to watch so much, maybe you enjoyed it.” His taunt struck a nerve when that cocky arrogance briefly faltered. “That’s it, isn’t it? It turned you on, you sick fuck. That’s why you killed her, little Mary Rabine. You wanted her for yourself. You’re targeting these girls because they remind you of your sister. It’s vicarious…you’re reliving what you did to her—what you wanted to do to her—through them.”
“Shut up!” Kent bellowed. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”
The gun trained on Joe’s chest wavered, and the man began to shake—with fear, with guilt? Joe couldn’t know. The only thing he was sure of was that he’d gotten under the man’s skin. He’d struck a nerve, so there was truth to Joe’s supposition. The more crazed he made Kent, the lower his guard fell. Kent would make a mistake, and then Joe would act—if he didn’t get his head blown off first.
“Take me to Hannah…” he goaded, forcing the words that turned his stomach. “You can watch me fuck her one last time before you kill me. Nobody knows I’m here. We’ve got all night.” As he’d hoped, that final taunt pushed Kent over the edge.
Growling a foul curse, Kent marched up to him and fisted his hand in Joe’s collar as he shoved the muzzle of the gun beneath Joe’s chin, snarling “Maybe I’ll make you watch this time!”
The bastard wasn’t going to get the chance. The moment he lowered the gun to lead Joe away, he drove his knee into Kent’s groin. At the same time, Joe slammed his bound wrists against his hip, breaking the zip-tie. Adrenaline and rage numbed his shoulder enough to let him grab for Kent’s wrist. He forced his arm up a moment before the gun went off. The whiz of the bullet flew past his cheek, stinging as it grazed his flesh. He drove his left elbow into Kent’s throat and the gun clattered to the floor. Cartilage crunched beneath the blow, and the man gasped, eyes wide with shock as he stumbled back, struggling for breath.
Joe kicked the gun out of Kent’s reach and slowly advanced as he retreated, clawing at his neck, each gasping breath collapsing his trachea as air escaped but could not return. “How does it feel? Being unable to breathe… Scary, huh? Lungs burning…heart pounding for oxygen you can’t get. Knowing that in the next few minutes, you’re going to die.” Kent collided with the wall and slowly slid to the floor—eyes wide and terrified, mouth agape and gasping. “You are…going to die. You’re going to experience the death you’ve given those girls, feel the panic of suffocation taking hold of you.”
Joe knelt beside him and locked gazes with the man whose eyes bulged with fear. He watched dispassionately as Kent struggled to hold onto the last moments of his miserable life. Already weak from oxygen deprivation, he fumbled as he grasped for Joe’s hand, desperate for help his victims never had.
“Can you hear that barking?” Joe whispered, leaning close to his ear. “That’s the sound of the hell hounds coming for you. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a wound for a wound, a bruise for a bruise…” As Joe recited the verse in Exodus, he watched the life drain from Ke
nt’s eyes, slowly fading to the blank stare he’d left on the face of countless victims. Joe only knew of eight, but by the size of that rug, there had been many more. Identifying those victims would be a task he and Sam, with the help of the Quantico forensics, would soon tackle so they could finally put this case to rest.
Sirens sounded off in the distance, the urgent wailing pulling Joe from his musing and into the present. Hannah…he needed to find Hannah. Somewhere there was an entrance leading beneath this damn house.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Trapped with nothing but thoughts of her inevitable demise, Hannah’s mind turned to her son, to Josiah, and the family she’d always wanted with him and would never have.
When Hannah wasn’t mourning the loss of her future, she thought of Cassie. She now understood the horror her sister had experienced in the final hours leading up to her death. And she knew what awaited her as soon as that monster returned. It was likely her sister had been assaulted in this bed—died in the very place where Hannah lay.
Help me! Her mind screamed the words she couldn’t voice. Then, as if in answer to prayer, the sound of a dog barking floated through the floor above her. The deep baritone of Josiah’s voice flooded her with hope.
Hannah tried to scream for help and rattled the chain fastened to the concrete wall, praying he would hear her. But then a gun went off. Dexter’s sharp yelp rang out and her hope vanished as terror seized her. Nooo… She sobbed against the duct tape as her mind conceived the unimaginable.
She twisted her wrists and pulled to get free. The metal edge of the cuffs cut into her hands, peeling away tender, bruised skin. She gritted her teeth against the pain as tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks. A muffled cry morphed into a muted scream when her bonds refused to give. She yanked on the chain above her head, rattling it against the concrete wall.
I’m down here! Help me! Please, Josiah, help me!
Angry voices sounded above her—yelling. She strained to listen over the pounding of her heart, her vision blurred with tears.
“Maybe I’ll make you watch this time!”
The gun went off again. Someone fell. Time stopped as several moments of silence passed. She was sure her heart would fail her, it raced so fast. Hurried footsteps echoed through the floorboards, drawing closer to the stairwell. After what seemed like an eternity, there was the squeak of rusted hinges and the rapid descent of feet rushing down the stairs.
She strained to see beyond the paltry light cast by the lamp on the dresser. Hope warred with terror as she waited with to see who would come around the corner—her savior or her devil…
…
Finding Hannah bound, gagged, and chained to a wall was a sight that would haunt Joe as long as he lived.
“Hannah!” He rushed to the bed and knelt beside her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she choked on muffled sobs. He winced as he pulled the tape away from her mouth. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” The chains rattled as he gathered her into his arms and held her tight, burying his face in the side of her neck as she cried.
He blamed himself for this, for making her a target, for failing to keep her safe. If he’d been any later, Hannah would have died down here, just like all the others.
“I was so scared ya wouldn’t find me,” she cried, breaking down into shoulder-wracking sobs. Her slender arms were stretched above her head, the fragile skin around her wrists, bleeding and torn. He growled a curse, desperate to free her, but he didn’t have the key to the cuffs. Backup was on the way, and the deputies would have one, but the thought of her chained in this hole for one more second was torture.
“Hang on, sweetheart. I’m going to get you out of here.” Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Joe reached into her hair and felt around for a bobby pin. He bent the thin metal into a hook on the end and slipped it into the lock, pushing against the internal spring as he rotated the pin clockwise. The cuff released, and he went to work jimmying the second lock.
The moment she was free, she let out a relieved sob. Tears flowed freely as she threw her arms around his neck. He let out a pained grunt, and she tried to pull back, but he wrapped his good arm around her, holding her tighter.
“Ye’ve been shot!” she cried when he refused to let her go. “Josiah, ye’re bleedin’!”
“I’ll be okay. How badly are you hurt, Hannah? Did he…?” Joe had to take a breath and steady his voice before he could continue. “Did he touch you?”
Relief flooded through him when she shook her head. “It’s just my wrists. I’m more scared than hurt. Josiah, what about Eli!” she panicked. “He’s all alone. Ye’ve gotta—”
“Eli’s fine,” he interrupted, framing her face and meeting her eyes to make sure she was hearing him. “I have an officer waiting with him. He’s safe. You’re safe.”
Hannah broke down, sagging against him in relief. “I was so afraid ya wouldn’t find me in time. How did ya know I was here?”
“Dex…” His voice cracked at the mention of his fallen partner. Joe swallowed the grief building in his throat. “I came here to question Kent earlier, and Dex scented something in the house. I suspected Kent was the guy when I found his signature on another case like this one. When I discovered you were gone—” The wail of sirens outside cut him off. “Backup’s here. Can you walk?”
“I think so…” She leaned heavily on him as he helped her stand. Slipping his good arm around her waist, Joe walked her to the stairs. As they started up the steps together, the front door crashed open. “Lancaster Sheriff’s Department!”
He recognized Sheriff Stoltz voice, then the rush of footsteps stampeding into the house. A surprised curse rang out.
“We’re down here!” Joe called to the team, not wanting to surprise any trigger-happy deputies on the way up. One gunshot wound was enough.
…
As Hannah climbed the last remaining stairs, she wasn’t prepared for the sight before her. Lights from the police cars and ambulance flashed through the living room, making her dizzy. Josiah’s hand pressed to the small of her back as he encouraged her to move away from the hole in the floor. She took a few hesitant steps and then stopped, overwhelmed by the activity around her. Police officers filled the living room, and two paramedics were coming through the door with large bags in hand.
They headed across the room, her gaze following the direction of their pursuit. Hannah gasped when her gaze landed on Bill Kent. With legs outstretched, he leaned against the wall, his head tipped back, revealing sightless eyes and heavy bruises on his neck. The sheriff and deputy stepped aside as the paramedics approached. A quick pulse check verified what everyone seemed to already know, there was nothing to be done for him.
Movement caught the corner of her eye as a deputy took a blanket from the couch and knelt to spread it over—
“Don’t!” Josiah barked at the officer. “Don’t touch him!” He rushed to Dexter’s side and dropped to his knees beside his fallen partner. Placing his hand over the still chest, Josiah exhaled a sigh. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose, his face hidden behind his hand.
Hannah covered her mouth, muffling her sob as she watched Josiah grieve over his fallen partner. She knelt next to him and placed her hand on his back. “Oh, Josiah… I’m so sorry.”
She was vaguely aware of the paramedic coming over to them and bending down near Josiah. The paramedic remained respectfully silent as he opened his bag and removed a stethoscope. After placing the ends in his ears, he leaned lower and placed the bell against Dexter’s chest. His brows wrinkled in concentration as he listened intently, moving it to another place on his chest, and then another. After a moment, the paramedic removed the stethoscope and draped it around his neck as he announced, “He’s got a heartbeat. Brian spike me a bag of fluids, I’m going to start a line.”
The other paramedic rushed over while she and Josiah watched them frantically working to save Dexter’s life. Please, God, let him live…
…
/> Dexter was loaded in the back of the ambulance, and they were racing down the road, siren wailing and lights flashing before Joe would let the paramedic look at his shoulder. It hurt like hell, but the bleeding had stopped. He’d live.
“You’re lucky. The bullet went through your shoulder. Looks like you’ve survived worse,” the paramedic commented, nodding at the circular scar on Joe’s chest. “Still gonna need to get this stitched up, though. We’ll drop you off at the ER on the way to—”
“No. I’m not leaving Dex. Just get him to the vet.”
Before loading him on the stretcher, the paramedic started an IV and they were running fluids into him. He’d also poured a packet of powder into his bullet wound before applying a pressure dressing, explaining it would help slow the bleeding. He was still unconscious, and there was no telling how much damage that bullet had done, but it was a miracle he was alive.
Hannah reached over and took Josiah’s hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. She sat quietly on the bench beside him while the paramedic placed a roll of gauze over the entrance and exit wounds, then wrapped a bandage beneath Josiah’s arm and around his shoulder.
“Ever consider getting into a different line of work?”
Before Joe could answer, Hannah spoke up. “He’s doin’ God’s work. He’s makin’ this world a safer place. He saved my life…” she finished softly.
Joe pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head. He’d never thought of it like that, but who knew…maybe Hannah was right. Perhaps this was his calling, a path set before him long before he could see his way. Looking back, it would appear so, though he doubted many people of the order would believe that. Surely not his parents, but that was his cross to bear. Looking back, Joe wouldn’t change a thing. He didn’t belong here, he never had. And knowing what he did now, he would never have forgiven himself for taking Hannah away from Cassie.
And yet the painful, tragic events in their lives had set him on a course that led him back to his Hannah. The one thing Joe was sure of was that life was too short to live with regrets, and this was the second time he’d almost lost her. There wouldn’t be a third. As soon as he got the chance, he was going to marry her. She, Eli, and Dexter—God willing—would soon be a family.
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