If it was a trap, he’d find some way to flip it. It’d just be another thing to take away from her – hope. He smiled at the thought.
“I’ll meet you there. Be ready for a busy night. If there are any tricks, you’re a dead woman. Your daughter, too.”
Duncan terminated the call. After a quick glance at his watch, he stood. There was no time to waste. This was the offer of a lifetime, assuming she wasn’t trying to trick him.
He raced to the small bathroom in his trailer. He filled the washbasin with cold water and, after applying some shaving foam, hacked at his beard with a razor. There was no reason to hide now. He wanted Ashley to see him exactly as he’d been the moment she’d broken him. The moment she’d set him on a path of righteous vengeance that led right back to her. When he was finished, he summed up his handiwork.
He looked like himself again.
The shave taken care of, he gathered the things he’d need. He put on leather gloves, sunglasses and a cap. Next, he grabbed his backpack. Finally, he grabbed the revolver, which he loaded and stuffed down the back of his jeans.
He didn’t think he’d need the gun. He wasn’t going to shoot her. That would be too simple. Still, he was glad to have it for protection. There was a high chance this was all a ruse, but he’d evaded the cops for ten years. Ashley had been tarred as a chicken little. She’d run to them too many times. He wasn’t sure they’d listen to her anymore. They thought it was the mob after her, not someone like him.
He hefted the backpack over his shoulder and stuffed the address into his pocket. As he left his trailer, he smiled. He was going to make her night hell. At the end of it, he’d have achieved something that had eluded him for so long.
He wasn’t sure what would come next in his life. He didn’t think targeting any other woman would be the same after this, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
For now, he was content to find his muse, the woman who’d haunted him for the last decade. To find her, and kill her.
51
Chris
Chris grabbed his pistol from the table and pulled back the slide. He held it there for a moment, inspecting the weapon, then released the slide. A round was now locked and loaded, ready in case he needed to put it into Duncan Rowe’s skull. He rotated the pistol in his hand, hefted it, then stuffed it into his shoulder holster. The next time he pulled it out, there was a chance he’d have one of the most dangerous men in America in his sights.
They’d received a radio report from one of the police cars placed around the city. The driver had spotted Duncan Rowe in a rental car driving toward the target location. Chris had ordered the car to follow him. He’d also checked the rental car details himself. He now had Rowe’s financial details, and the trap was one step closer to being sprung.
He’d wanted to move on Rowe straight away, but knew he had to be patient. While he was at the wheel of a car, there was a chance he could get away. Chris needed to wait until the killer reached his destination, was on foot and vulnerable. Only then would he order the net pulled tight. Rowe would be surrounded by officers and wouldn’t get anywhere near Ashley Wheeler.
Chris couldn’t think of anything sweeter than stopping Rowe mere inches from the thing he wanted most of all.
“You guys ready to move?” Chris looked up at the four Wallingford Police Department officers in the room with him.
“No performance anxiety here.” Sergeant Mike Devereaux slapped the barrel of his shotgun against his hand. “Now he’s stuck his head up, we’ll take it off.”
Chris nodded, and there were smiles from the other officers. It wasn’t hard to understand their enthusiasm. Wallingford wasn’t exactly the crime capital of America. Cases that would be routine for the NYPD or the LAPD actually created a ripple here, another reason why it had been so easy for Chris to falsely requisition the help he needed to track down his man. He felt a little guilty about using them like that, but they’d be fine. He was the one who’d eat the consequences.
Right after Duncan Rowe ate a bullet or two.
Chris had forged the documents to get the help of the local department. It hadn’t taken much. They were already on edge. They’d already had two brutal murders and an arson attack they’d thought was the work of the mob. Chris had them convinced Rowe was the guy from the mob who was gunning for Ashley. Now he was relying on them to keep Ashley and her daughter safe while he worked.
Chris was confident about catching his killer. He had a good plan, and a tail in place. He just had to do make sure Ashley Wheeler and her daughter remained bubble-wrapped, and that measures were in place to deal with the killer. Chris was confident in both of those things, which meant the only thing left to do was hope Rowe took the bait.
He couldn’t make Ashley completely safe. She was the bait dangling on the line. But he’d surrounded her with so much protection, there was almost no chance of Rowe getting close enough to harm her. To keep Lucy safe, he’d put her in a police station. She had two armed guards looking over her and another twenty cops nearby. She was completely safe.
He needed to check, though. He picked up his phone and called Dean Remmers, one of the two cops assigned to protect Lucy.
“It’s Chris Horan. We’re confirming final preparations here.”
“Good to hear from you, Agent Horan. Sandra is in with her now and we’re taking it in turns to look out for her. You don’t have to worry about the girl, she’s fine.”
“Keep it that way.” Chris put as much strength in his voice as he could. He had no authority to conduct this operation, but no one had questioned it so far. “We’ve got a tail on our guy, so it should be wrapped up soon. Keeping Ashley and Lucy Wheeler safe is the priority.”
“Understood.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep you posted.”
Chris hung up the phone, feeling a momentary pang of guilt. He’d pulled off the scam of the century, gaining access to all the assets of the Wallingford PD – manpower, technology, and weaponry.
The deception had been shockingly easy. He had officers covering Ashley and her daughter, some ready to conduct traces, others on the lookout throughout the city, and a ready response team. He’d taken every possible precaution to make sure that, this time, the killer wouldn’t escape him.
“Hey, Chris?” Sergeant Devereaux shouted from across the room. “We just heard from the chase car. They’ve still got a lock on Rowe. He’s heading toward the target motel. We better get the assets ready.”
“Let’s go.”
52
Ashley
“Have they found him yet?” Ashley asked the female police officer, her companion in the motel room. Chris had assigned the woman to be Ashley’s closest support, a final protection in case Duncan slipped through all the layers of protection and made it to the motel. “We were supposed to have him by now.”
“No, not yet.” The officer’s voice was calm, and almost reassuring. “You just need to be patient. We’ve a whole network of protection around you.”
Ashley struggled to trust the police officer. She’d been burned by the authorities enough times before. “Okay, I just thi—”
“Hang on.” The officer interrupted Ashley as her radio crackled. Then she grimaced. “He’s on his way here, Ashley.”
Ashley tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. “What do you need from me? What should I do?”
“Nothing.” The officer smiled and placed a hand on Ashley’s arm. “We’ll get him. You’re protected here. I just wanted to let you know.”
Ashley nodded and kept silent. The officer kept smiling until her radio crackled again, stealing her attention. Ashley couldn’t hear what was said, but she saw the other woman tense. Without another word of explanation to Ashley, she left the room and moved back to her assigned point. Ashley had no idea how many other officers were there to protect her, but she hoped it was enough to stop Duncan Rowe from getting near her. Though she’d promised him a night with no holds barred, she had no intention o
f giving him that.
After her stomach-curdling phone conversation with Rowe, Ashley had expected things to get dangerous very quickly. Instead, she’d been bottled up inside a motel room for hours while she waited for Horan and his team to catch the bad guy. It was horribly anticlimactic, and didn’t help Ashley feel any safer. She wished she knew what was happening.
Instead, she was alone again, with nothing but her thoughts. She knew there was at least one police officer close by, and many more enacting the plan that Chris was so sure would work. After looking around the room, silent and still, Ashley walked over to the bed and put the pistol down on it. She needed it close. It offered a final chance at life if everything else failed.
She sat down with a sigh and reached for the photo album she’d left on the bed. It was the only one she’d managed to find in the remains of her house, safe inside a metal cabinet that had been scorched and warped, but not breached by the fire. It was also the only thing she’d brought from her motel room to this one. As she flicked through the album, she reached out to touch the photos of Lucy’s face, the photos of Tom and her together, smiling, and a hundred other memories from better times. Happier times. She wanted that feeling again.
She turned the page and saw the photo of Lucy that always made her heart melt. It was the best photo of the best thing she’d ever achieved in her life – a beautiful, smart, and curious little girl. As she stared at it, Ashley’s thoughts hardened and she felt for the pistol again. Gripping the weapon, she turned it in her hand and studied it. She felt a strange comfort when she held it. It felt like power, something she’d had so little of for so long.
Her eyes flicked back and forth between the photograph and the pistol, until Ashley felt her jaw clench tight. She’d done so much to keep Lucy safe, including some things she was proud of and plenty she wasn’t. It had all been done with a good heart and good intentions. She hoped Horan’s plan would work, but she couldn’t count on it. She had to assume such a calculating killer could outsmart them all. If that happened, it’d almost certainly mean Ashley was faced with death.
She swore under no circumstances would she let him win. If he made it as far as the motel, she’d kill him herself, or die trying. Ashley wasn’t prepared to contemplate even one second in the hands of such a beast. There’d be consequences, she was sure of it, but Ashley wasn’t taking any chances. Not with so much on the line.
The more she looked at the photo, the more the decision made sense. It meant Lucy would be safe. The female officer had assured her everything would be okay, but Ashley didn’t believe her. She’d also said there was nothing for Ashley to do, and she didn’t believe that either. Her finger grazed the trigger. She wasn’t counting on anything or anyone.
Not anymore.
53
Duncan
Duncan let down the window of his rental car and tossed the ‘fresh pine’ scented air freshener out of it. It wasn’t a scent he enjoyed. Satisfied, he started to whistle along with the song on the radio, which was vaguely familiar, his head bopping with the beat. He was just a few minutes away from the address he’d been given, and his excitement was growing.
He was feeling upbeat. He’d been on the lookout for a trap, but after driving around aimlessly for ninety minutes he hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary. He’d driven around trying to spot a tail, stopped for a juice and scanned for officers as he waited, and he’d even googled his name to see if there was anything online. None of his efforts had turned up anything. That didn’t make it safe, but it increased his chances.
As he tapped the steering wheel in time with the song, the GPS told him to take the next left. Duncan signaled to turn, checked his mirrors, and then turned down the street. He glanced at his mirror again, realizing the car behind him had turned the same corner he had. Duncan frowned. It seemed odd for two vehicles to be going down the same quiet back street. His eyes flicked between the road and the car as he thought about what to do. He signaled again, turned, and just like before, the same car followed him.
“Fucking hell.” Duncan hissed.
As the car’s GPS started telling him he’d taken the wrong turn, Duncan summed up his options. He now knew it was a trap. His first reaction was anger: he’d been betrayed by Ashley Wheeler again. Then came regret, because he’d lost the chance to have a night with her as his willing plaything. Finally came fear. The police were onto him.
The only saving grace was that his precautions had paid off. He’d spotted the tail. That gave him the chance to decide what to do about this new development. With a sigh, he reprogrammed the GPS to find the nearest parking garage, a plan forming in his head. Duncan drove the few minutes to the garage without incident, signaled, and turned in.
The car didn’t follow. It kept on driving straight past him. He was pleased, but just because nobody had followed didn’t mean he was in the clear.
Duncan parked the car in the first available bay and climbed out. He grabbed his bag, locked the car and threw the keys into a trashcan. He thought about doing the same with his cell phone, but decided against it. He doubted the cops could be tracking it. The car and his credit cards were a different matter. He hadn’t wanted to use his normal car, so he’d rented one using a credit card. Given they’d found the car, it wouldn’t be long before they had his financial details as well. That was fine, he could deal with it.
The only thing that worried him was missing out on an evening with Ashley. He’d hoped she’d learned, but she hadn’t. She’d been baiting him, beckoning him closer with soothing words while holding a knife behind her back. A stupid man would have been lured right in by her, with the cops ready to pounce. But as Ashley and the cops were about to find out, he wasn’t a stupid man. She’d led him on for the last time.
The first thing he needed to do was get away. The car had kept driving, but that didn’t mean he was in the clear. There might be others looking to resume the tail. Or worse, there could be officers on their way to the garage, ready to arrest him. Either way, Duncan was better off elsewhere. He walked to the exit of the parking garage and looked around. He saw no obvious signs that someone was there to pick up the tail, no army of cops ready to take him down.
He took a deep breath, crossed the street, and walked for several blocks, until he found what he was looking for: a group of teenagers leaning against a fence, chatting loudly. Duncan smiled and walked closer to them. As he approached, their conversation stalled, then stopped entirely as they turned to stare at him. Raised eyebrows and muttered comments made it clear what they thought about him.
“Hey, kids.” Duncan pulled up about six feet short of the group and raised a hand in greeting. “Want to earn some money?”
Their eyes lit up at that. One of them took up the offer. “You some sort of pedophile or something?”
Duncan sighed as he pulled out his wallet. “No. It’s simple, I’ve got six credit cards here. I’ll give you all the PIN numbers and then you can go buy what you want.”
The same kid scoffed. “And why would you do that? You think we’re stupid and can’t spot a cop?”
Duncan figured honesty was the best policy. “The cops are after me. They’re tracing these cards. Find a store, buy what you want and move on quickly, before the cops can track you down. This is the best deal you’re ever going to get. Take it or leave it. I can easily find another group of kids.”
“We’re not kids.” The boy reached out and snatched for Duncan’s wallet, but Duncan held it back.
“One condition.” Duncan smiled, then held out his wallet and let the boy take it. “You each go in different directions.”
54
Chris
Chris pressed the phone closer to his ear. “Please confirm, there have been no hits on the target’s cards?”
The Wallingford PD officer on the other end of the line took a second to respond. “There’s been no activity on any cards since he rented the car.”
Chris hung up his cell phone and slammed his fist i
nto the back of the driver’s seat. “Fuck it! We’ve lost him. Anyone have anything?”
The officers in the vehicle with him shook their heads. Chris and his team had been racing toward Duncan Rowe’s location when a disastrous radio call had come through. In short, crackled bursts the officer who’d picked up the tail had told Chris’s team that Rowe had driven into a multi-story parking garage. Chris had shouted at him to follow, even if it meant exposure, but it was too late. Rowe had escaped. Now they were pulled over on the side of the road, frantically working the radio and their cell phones, trying to locate Duncan Rowe.
This wouldn’t have happened on any Bureau operation, or even a local police operation run by a half-decent force, but Chris hadn’t been impressed by the Wallingford Police Department. Given the choice, he’d have had multiple tails on Rowe, switching back and forth between them to remove suspicion. Better still, he’d have been able to switch the vehicles’ headlights. But Chris didn’t have those things. He had a half-rate bunch of half-rate cops he’d managed to commandeer into helping him through deceit. It was like dealing with recruits right out of the academy.
“Desperation time.” Chris started to dial another number as he spoke. “Speak to anyone you can think of, call in favors, do some magic tricks… Just find him!”
Chris put the phone to his ear. As he waited for the person to pick up, he clenched his teeth hard. It couldn’t happen again. Chris had lucked across the killer, the man he now knew to be Duncan Rowe. He’d failed to stop him in New York. He couldn’t let that happen again. He thought he’d laid a perfect trap, luring the killer toward Ashley Wheeler with plenty of officers ready to pounce.
Dead and Gone Page 198