Duncan dug the blade in several times, pushing the cop over. On the ground, Duncan kept stabbing into his stomach and throat and face, until he was sure the cop was no longer a threat. He was getting tired of these close calls. The attack on the cop was an outlet for his fury. After twenty or thirty blows he stopped, panting, and increasingly aware of the voice still coming from the radio.
Duncan looked down at the knife, shook his head and then glanced at the cop. There was no point hiding this body, the cop’s dispatch would know exactly where he was. The only chance Duncan had was to get away quickly. He wiped the knife on the dead cop’s uniform and then laughed as he looked down at his own clothes, which were also covered with blood.
Duncan turned back to the car, his heart racing. The fear in Lucy Wheeler’s eyes was delicious. She looked at him, her hands and face pressed against the window and tears streaking down her cheeks. Her eyes were red and snot trickled out of her nose. He had a flashback to her mother, ten years ago, terrified as she ran from the car.
All he’d wanted then was to love Ashley.
All he wanted now was to kill her.
60
Chris
Chris kept his foot to the floor, glad the undercover vehicle he’d stolen had some balls. He’d used the grunt to get a decent head start on the cops he knew were pursuing them. The fact that they had made a clean escape gave them options.
“We’re just going to stop at my hotel for a minute.” Chris turned briefly to look at her. “It’s possible they’ll be there already. If they are, you surrender. Got it?”
Ashley scoffed. “You don’t have to worry about me. The minute I’m in danger, you’re getting cut loose. You’ve used up all your credit with me.”
Chris started to say something, paused, then let it out. “Ashley, I’m sorry. I failed to protect your family and catch Rowe. I’m going to try my best to fix things, but if we’re caught, you need to play along. I’m fucked, whatever happens, but you helped me pull this off – you’re implicated too. If both of us get locked up, Rowe wins and Lucy loses.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she seemed to accept his advice. She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Fine. I just want to get my daughter back.”
“We will.”
Chris slowed the car to take the final turn before his hotel. There was stuff he needed to grab before the cops did, incriminating stuff that would prove he had no authority to launch the operation. It was possible they could still do that, but without the evidence it would take them longer. They knew he’d fooled them and would be keen to prove it, Chris just wanted to make it as difficult as possible. It’d give him more time to catch and kill Duncan Rowe.
Chris pulled the car into the front driveway of the hotel. If it were a decent place, more than three stars or so, there might’ve been a valet offering to park his car. But given he was travelling on his own dime, there was nobody to bother him. Without a word, Chris popped the trunk, left the car idling and rushed to his hotel room.
Once inside, he scooped up the folders full of documents he’d compiled on Duncan Rowe and stuffed them under his left arm, then he moved to his case and grabbed that as well. He returned to the car, struggling with the documents as he wheeled the case behind him, and threw it all into the trunk. Paperwork spilled everywhere, but he didn’t care. The important thing was that the cops didn’t get it all.
It had been less than three minutes since they’d pulled in to the hotel. Chris couldn’t hear any sirens, and hoped their luck would hold until they were out of the city. He wasn’t sure what came after that. There were no leads detailing where Rowe had taken Lucy, though he did know they had to get out of the city. He kept on driving.
“What do we do now?” Ashley broke the silence after a few blocks. “I need to know what the plan is.”
“I don’t have one.” Chris didn’t want to lie to her. She’d taken massive risks and was struggling to trust him.
“Okay.” It sounded like she was going to say more, when her cell phone beeped.
Chris looked sideways at her as she glanced down at the phone. “What is it? You shouldn’t answer any—”
“Oh my God.” Ashley’s squeal was like nails down a blackboard. The phone fell out of her hand and clattered to the floor. Ashley howled and pounded the dash.
Chris drove on for a moment, then pulled the car over. Although he wasn’t sure what was on the phone, he had a sense it involved Lucy. He reached down for it as Ashley continued to sob uncontrollably. The phone was still unlocked, and the photo Ashley had been so traumatized by was still on the screen. Chris felt his heart sink as he stared at Lucy Wheeler, a knife held to her throat, holding up a piece of paper with a location scribbled on it.
“Fucking hell.” Chris shook his head. “We’re going to get him, I promise. We’ll get Lucy back.”
Ashley didn’t speak or look at him. She just stared into space, her body racked with sobs, tears running down her face. Chris didn’t know what to do, except to keep on going. He wasn’t sure if the location in the photo was really where they’d find Rowe and Lucy, but he had nothing else to go on. He started driving again, but kept quiet.
It was his fault. He’d failed to catch Duncan Rowe twice now. Ashley and her daughter had paid the price. He’d played his hand, gone all in and lost. He punched the location into the GPS. They were headed in the right direction, and it wasn’t far. As far as Chris was concerned, it was a one-way trip. He’d end Duncan Rowe’s life or die trying. There was no other result that’d satisfy his guilt.
“Can you hear that?” Her voice was uneven, still emotional and laced with sobs. “I can hear a siren.”
Chris heard the slightest hint of it. Distant and pathetic at first, it grew steadily in volume. They were coming for him. Their car was faster than his. Chris gritted his teeth and tried to push the car on, but it was no good. The siren grew louder and after a few more moments he could see the cop car in his rearview mirror.
His obsession had cost him everything – his partner, Hopkins’ friendship, his career – but it had cost Ashley Wheeler far more. It was Chris who’d flushed Rowe out of New York City. Though he’d had good intentions, that single act had brought the devil into the house of this poor woman. Her life had been thrown into disarray, and now a madman was holding a knife to her daughter’s throat. In comparison, whatever Chris had thought important wasn’t.
“You need to let me out, Chris.” Ashley suddenly spoke, surprising him. “You have too much heat on you. It’s going to get us caught, and Lucy killed.”
Chris frowned. “I—”
“No. I’ve made my decision.” Ashley’s features were hard. She had no intention of taking him with her any further. “Let me out of the car.”
Chris wanted to argue, but he knew he had no right to get in her way. He’d blown their shot at catching Rowe, and his actions had put both Ashley and her daughter in danger. He wanted to get Rowe more than anything, to end all of this, but not as much as the woman sitting next to him. With a sigh, Chris signaled and pulled the car over, then reached into his shoulder holster for his pistol.
“What are you doing?” Ashley frowned at him, then looked down at the pistol.
Chris smiled sadly as he handed it to her. “I’m sorry I didn’t get him, Ashley.”
Ashley looked at the pistol for several moments, the sound of the siren growing ever closer. She’d made a decision and he had no doubt she’d stick to it. If there was one thing he’d seen in the time he’d known her, it was that she had the strength of her convictions. Finally, she gripped the pistol, looked up at him and exited the vehicle.
A second after she slammed the door shut, Chris floored the accelerator. He’d take the cops on the longest chase he could, to give Ashley as much time as possible. He owed her that much, and it would give her the best chance of killing Rowe. For Chris, that had been all that mattered, now Ashley Wheeler would be the one to end him. She had a much greater stake in this terrible battl
e than Chris ever had.
She always had.
61
Ashley
Ashley finally breathed as the last cop car disappeared from sight, tearing down the highway after Chris. She looked around, pushed herself off her stomach and brushed off the dirt. Nothing was around her except silence and warm sunshine, a far cry from the chaos that had engulfed her right up until a few moments ago. She tucked the pistol down the back of her jeans, covered it with her T-shirt and then started to walk down the road.
She’d hidden low in some high grass beside the road as a fleet of cop cars went past. It left her in no doubt about how much trouble Chris was in, which made her feel better about the choice she’d made. There was no way they’d have been able to avoid the cops. She’d had to shed him. Now there was nobody left to help her. She was on her own.
It was a strange feeling. From the moment she’d watched Laverri shoot a man to the moment she’d told Chris Horan she wanted to get out of the car, she had looked to people in positions of power to help her – her counselor, law enforcement officers and legal professionals. Now all that was over. Now she was walking, alone and desperate, to a showdown with the psycho who had her daughter.
Ashley gritted her teeth and ran, covering the mile to a small satellite town on the outskirts of Wallingford as quickly as she could. By the time she reached the center of the town, her forehead was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and her clothes had that awful damp feel. She wasn’t the fittest woman in the world, but fear and urgency had propelled her on. For just a second, though, she needed to pause and prepare.
She put some money into a vending machine to buy a bottle of water. As she sucked it down, she reviewed the decisions she’d made as she ran. The time had helped her solidify what she needed to do, and Ashley knew she had the courage to do it. She finished the water then crossed the street. Just before she walked into a grocery store, she checked that the pistol was in place.
It took her a few minutes to walk the aisles collecting items: some food, bottles of water, a small first-aid kit, a kitchen knife, some rope, and a backpack to put it all in. She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d need, so she tried to get a bunch of things that might be useful. After one more quick survey, she took the items to the checkout and placed them on the counter. Only when she was done did she look at the cashier who was scanning her items.
“Going camping?” The girl smiled as she ran a tin of tuna past the scanner. She had red hair and was about sixteen years old, probably working her first job.
“Something like that.” Ashley spoke on autopilot as her eyes scanned the store and the street outside.
“Sounds fun.” The girl scanned the last item, then looked up at Ashley again. “Seventeen bucks, thanks.”
Ashley paid and then spent a moment loading her items into the backpack. She hefted the bag, which was heavy but manageable, and left the store. There was one more thing she had to do. She didn’t like the idea, but there was nothing she wouldn’t do to protect Lucy. She needed to get to her.
Ashley scanned both sides of the street ahead of her as she walked, waiting for the right opportunity. A couple of times she considered making a move, then thought better of it. She walked a few hundred yards until she found the right opportunity – an older man, but not elderly, struggling to load a bike into the trunk of his car. Ashley looked left and right to make sure there was nobody else around, then moved closer.
“Need some help?” She flashed her best smile at the man as he turned to face her. “Looks like you’ve got a bit of a struggle on your hands there.”
“I’ll say.” He laughed, running a hand through his hair. “It’ll be okay though. It fits, it’s just a tight squeeze.”
Ashley kept her smile as in one swift motion, she reached behind her back, grabbed the pistol and pointed it at the man. She hated seeing the change on his face – from a friendly smile to a frown of surprise, to an eyes-wide look of fear and loathing. He let go of the bike. It clattered loudly to the ground as he raised his hands slowly.
“What’s the problem?” He took a slight step back. “Do you want the bike? The car? Take whatever you like. I don’t want any trouble.”
“Just the car and any cash you have.” Ashley didn’t move the pistol, too scared to give him an opening. “Leave the keys and the cash on the ground and ride away.”
He nodded frantically. Slowly, he dug into his pocket and tossed the keys onto the road. Another pocket produced a wallet, from which he pulled a small handful of notes. He laid them carefully on the road, using the keys to weigh them down. With one final look of disgust, he climbed onto his bike and started to ride away from her. Ashley stuffed the pistol back into her pants and collected the treasures he’d left.
She closed the trunk of the car and climbed inside. She hated how low she’d had to sink, but her preparations were complete. As she started the car she clenched her jaw and nodded, ready to face the challenge ahead of her. She’d prepared as much as she could, now she had to enter the monster’s lair.
He’d told her if anyone else showed up, or there were any tricks, Lucy would die. He’d also told her if she wasn’t at the specified location by the specified time, he’d start taking pieces out of Lucy. The thought terrified her. It fueled her with the courage she needed to stop him once and for all.
She put the car into gear and drove.
62
Duncan
Duncan looked out of one of the farmhouse windows as he took a gulp from the bottle of orange juice he’d found in the fridge. It was past its best, but there was no way for him to restock. He had to make do with whatever the owners had left in the fridge when they’d gone on vacation. Judging by how much mail had been stuffed into the box and how much food had gone bad in the fridge, they’d been gone a while.
With a sigh, Duncan wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and turned away from the window. He glanced at Lucy, sitting on the sofa, her hands tied with rope in front of her, and held out the bottle. Her eyes widened, but Duncan refused to give her any of the juice until she spoke. He was sick of the silent act. The girl would die, but before she did, he wanted to learn as much from her as he could.
“Can I have some?” She finally spoke, her voice soft and frightened. “Please. I’m really thirsty.”
Duncan smiled as he stepped closer and handed her the bottle. She took it with both hands and drank greedily. As she did, he turned back to the window and glanced out again, watching for Ashley. He was growing impatient. He’d expected to see either her or an army of police by now. His message had been clear: show up alone by 7:00 pm, or he’d start cutting pieces off Lucy.
“That’s enough.” Duncan snatched the bottle from the girl, his tone revealing more of his frustration than intended. “Do you think your mom is coming?”
“She’ll come for me.” Lucy held his gaze for a second, then looked down. “She always tries to get me.”
“I hope so.” Duncan smiled at the girl, walked to the kitchen and came back with a large chef’s knife. He held it in front of the girl. “You know what this is?”
The girl nodded. “A knife.”
Duncan pointed at the clock on the wall. “And you know what that is, right? You’re a smart little girl. What’s it say?”
“6:57.” She looked at the clock, then up at him. She clearly didn’t understand the point of his little game.
“Do you know why that’s important?” Duncan sat down beside the girl, leaving her some space as he looked up at the clock, the knife beside him.
“No.”
“Because when that clock strikes 7:00 pm, your mother will have forced me to do a terrible thing, Lucy.”
“What?” Her voice was more frightened now. Her eyes locked onto the clock and her lip curled up.
“You’ll find out.”
Duncan walked to the window and peered out again. There was no activity outside the house, despite his instructions. He thought he’d made himself clear.
Or so he’d thought. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t come yet. Though he was alert for any sirens or trickery, there was simply nothing happening outside the house. The sun had disappeared over the horizon, bringing darkness, both outside the window and inside Duncan’s thoughts. Was she really stupid enough to try and dupe him again?
He didn’t want to cut Lucy. He might be willing to kill her in front of her mother, but he wasn’t a monster. He’d only do it to wound Ashley, not because he enjoyed hurting children. But if his instructions weren’t adhered to, what choice did he have? If Ashley had followed his orders, he’d have ended Lucy Wheeler’s life quickly and painlessly. But she hadn’t, so now Duncan had to prove a point.
He glanced at the clock again and sighed. After one final look outside, he pulled out his cell phone and sat back down next to the girl. He opened the camera application and framed Lucy into the shot. He reached out and touched the knife against her leg, running it slowly and very gently back toward him, then paused. Her eyes tracked the blade, her breathing heavy and coming in panicked, shallow bursts. She looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” she sobbed, her bottom lip quivering. “Please. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“No, you haven’t.” Duncan’s voice was somber. He didn’t want to have to do this. “But your mother has hurt me very badly, many times, and now she’s hurt you.”
“Please, I—”
Duncan shook his head, cutting her off. “Lucy, look at the clock and tell me what time it is.”
“7:00.” She sobbed again.
The intensity of her scream was something to behold, even before the knife bit into her flesh.
63
Dead and Gone Page 201