Catch the Girl

by Melinda Woodhall

  Reacting instinctively, Eden leapt back onto the path, determined to get away from the terrible rattling. She flew down the path in the dark, colliding roughly with the solid figure of a tall man, who cursed and stumbled backwards, weighted down by an enormous carryall.

  The collision had knocked both Eden and the man’s flashlight to the ground, and as Eden jumped back to her feet, she saw the man’s face as he scrambled for the flashlight.

  “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, grabbing Eden’s arm. “And what the fuck are you doing out here in the dark?”

  Gasping at the viciousness of the man’s words, and the iron grip he had on her arm, Eden fought to get away. Her eyes dropped to the big carryall. The massive bag had landed on the sharp edge of splintered branch, and one of the seams had ripped open, revealing a pile of handguns packed in between thick bags of white powder.

  “What’s…that?” Eden asked numbly, her mind whirring as she realized what she was seeing.

  The man gripped her arm even tighter, drawing her closer to him, his clenched teeth only inches from her face. He pulled a little handgun from his waistband, waving in front of her eyes.

  “Now, I asked you a question. Who the hell are you?”

  Holding back the scream that hovered in her throat, she tried to think of Duke and Nathan waiting for her in the car. If she screamed they may come and try to help her. And if either of them ended up getting hurt, it would be all her fault.

  No, this is my fight. It’s up to me to figure out what to do.

  As Eden opened her mouth to speak, a scream shattered the nearby sky. The big man whirled around, startled, and Eden took the opportunity to slip out of his grasp. She’d gotten only a few yards away when she heard the gun explode behind her and felt the bullet zip past her shoulder.

  Skidding to a sudden stop, Eden legs threatened to buckle underneath her. She braced for the next shot, shivering in the cold, overcome with fear. Suddenly the man’s arm was around her throat, tightening, pulling her back against his rock-hard chest.

  “You’re not going anywhere, lady,” the man growled. “You see, I may need a hostage to get me out of this, and you’ll do just fine.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Jankowski looked over his shoulder; Barker had once again fallen behind. The ex-detective had been dragging ever since their little search party had retreated from the compound wall with a rifle trained on their backs. They’d walked over a mile since then, searching for tracks leading to or from the gas station where Candace Newbury’s body had been found, finally stumbling onto a dirt path that showed signs of recent use.

  “You okay, old man?” Jankowski called back, moving aside so that Vanzinger could examine the trail.

  “Yeah, I’m doing…really…great.” Barker bent over and put his hands on his knees. “Just need to take a little breather.”

  Vanzinger pointed his flashlight down toward the dirt path and motioned to Jankowski.

  “You see these footprints?”

  He crouched down, pointing a long finger at several imprints in the crusted mud.

  “These are from two different people. Maybe a man and a woman. And look here…”

  Vanzinger moved the beam of the flashlight closer to the path, focusing on a spattering of rusty drops in the dirt.

  “Looks like blood to me.”

  Jankowski squatted beside Vanzinger and studied the footprints. He immediately recognized the imprint pattern from the gas station crime scene, as well as the scene outside the Mercy Harbor shelter where Ruth Culvert had been abducted.

  “The techs found prints like these at both scenes,” Jankowski told Vanzinger. “They think they’re from some kind of custom-made shoes.”

  Looking back to make sure Barker was still on his feet, Jankowski noticed Frankie hovering beside the older man, one spindly hand gripping Barker’s upper arm in support.

  Maybe Frankie isn’t a total waste of space after all.

  As Jankowski turned back to Vanzinger, a high-pitched scream echoed through the trees, causing every hair on his head to stand up straight.

  “That’s Taylor!” Barker yelled. “That’s my daughter screaming.”

  Barker’s face was deathly pale in the moonlight, his eyes bright and glassy. Turning in the direction of the scream, he charged into the underbrush without another word.

  Starring after Barker in stunned silence, Frankie turned to Jankowski with wide eyes.

  “Where the fuck does he think he’s going?”

  Jankowski moved toward Frankie, calling out as he ran.

  “Barker, wait!”

  But his words were drowned out by a deafening gunshot. Spinning toward Vanzinger, Jankowski expected to see his ex-partner sprawled on the ground, but Vanzinger was still crouching by the path, his hand already taking the gun from his holster.

  “This way,” Vanzinger hissed at Jankowski, keeping hunched over as he began moving further down the path. “Follow me.”

  Jankowski looked back at Frankie, who was still standing frozen in fear on the path, then back at Vanzinger’s retreating form, knowing he only had seconds to decide what to do.

  “Go find, Barker,” he called to Frankie, gesturing toward the trees. “Find him and meet us back here.”

  Not waiting to see if Frankie would follow orders, Jankowski turned and raced after Vanzinger, fumbling for his flashlight and his Glock as he went.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Vanzinger lifted a finger to his lips, signaling for Jankowski to stay quiet, before holding two fingers in front of his eyes, gesturing for Jankowski to survey the clearing ahead.

  Crawling over a clump of cordgrass, Jankowski felt his right knee sink into a puddle of muddy water. He continued along the uneven ground, staying hidden behind tree trunks and overgrown bushes, until he was able to see what Vanzinger was pointing to.

  A man stood upright in the middle of a small clearing. His left arm was looped tightly around the neck of a tall, blonde woman; he held a gun to the woman’s temple with his right hand.

  Jankowski held back a gasp as he recognized Eden Winthrop.

  “If I loosen my grip, you better not try to run again.” The man waved the gun in front of Eden’s face for emphasis. “Next time I promise you, I won’t miss.”

  Lowering his arm, the man pushed Eden forward, training his gun on her as he moved toward a big carryall that had split open on the ground. He used his free hand to pick up a small, black handgun that had fallen into the dirt and shoved it back into the bag.

  Jankowski glanced at Vanzinger, wondering if he had seen the pile of guns and bags of white powder in the carryall. From the gleam in Vanzinger’s eyes, Jankowski assumed he had.

  “Okay, we’re gonna head over that way toward the old diner,” the man said, pointing down the path with his gun. “I can get a car there. We’ll be over the county line before anyone knows we’re gone.”

  Eden shook her head, her face twisting in panic.

  “I don’t think we should go that way. There’s-”

  “Shut up!” the man shouted, pointing the gun closer to her face. “Don’t you tell me what to do!”

  Rage ignited in Jankowski’s chest as Eden recoiled from the gun.

  Only a total piece of crap treats a woman like that.

  He waited for the man to turn back to the carryall, holding up his hand so Vanzinger could see his fingers as he counted down.

  Three, two, one…

  As the man reached for his bag, Jankowski and Vanzinger burst out of the undergrowth, guns pointing at his startled face.

  “Police!” shouted Jankowski. “Drop your weapon, now!”

  The lightweight Walther fell to the ground as the man tripped backward over his carryall, landing in an icy puddle of murky water. A tiny green tree frog jumped across his chest, then splashed out into marshland beyond the trees.

  “Keep your hands where we can see them.”

  Jankowski kept his gun trained on the man while Vanzinger turned t
o Eden with worried eyes.

  “Are you okay, Ms. Winthrop?”

  Jankowski wasn’t surprised that Vanzinger remembered Eden, but he was impressed at how calmly the guardsman had reacted to seeing her again. It had been only a few months since he’d been called out to rescue her the first time.

  “How…how did you find me?” Eden stammered, confusion and relief competing in her green eyes.

  “Let’s just say we got lucky,” Jankowski offered, glad that Eden appeared to be unharmed.

  Stooping to pick up the Walther, Vanzinger flipped the safety lever, removed the magazine, and inspected the chamber. He dropped the unloaded gun into the carryall before turning to the man on the ground.

  “Stand up and keep your hands high.”

  The man stood and raised his hands, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he kept his eyes on the barrel of Jankowski’s Glock. Vanzinger patted him down, stopping at his pants pocket, pulling out a thin wallet.

  Opening the wallet, Vanzinger pulled out a driver’s license.

  “Jacob Albright. That you?”

  The man didn’t speak, but his jaw tightened, and his eyes dropped to the ground. Vanzinger held up the license for Jankowski to see.

  “Sure looks like him in this picture,” Vanzinger said.

  Jankowski stared at the license, then at the man. Could this really be the scumbag whose DNA profile had been a match to Candace Newbury’s unborn baby?

  Feeling the rage ignite again in the pit of his stomach, Jankowski stepped closer to Jacob, pointing the Glock straight ahead, keeping it leveled at his chest.

  “You like hurting women, Jacob? Is that it?”

  Jacob frowned, then shook his head.

  “You got the wrong man, officer. I never hurt anybody. I’m just tryin’ to run a business here.”

  “Is that why you spent five years in the state pen?” Jankowski snarled. “Because you never hurt anybody?”

  Jacob narrowed his eyes, looking closer at Jankowski.

  “How’d you know about my record? What is this, some kind of setup? You trying to pin something on me that I didn’t do?”

  Shaking his head in disgust, Jankowski looked Jacob straight in the eyes.

  “Your DNA tells the whole story. It tells me you got Candace Newbury pregnant, then decided that was inconvenient. So, you killed her. That sound about right?”

  Eden gasped from behind Jankowski.

  “Are you saying he’s the one that killed Ruth’s friend? Did he kill Ruth Culvert, too?”

  Jankowski didn’t respond. He watched Jacob’s eyes widen in shock as Eden’s words sunk in.

  “Candy and Ruth are dead?”

  The blood drained from Jacob’s face as the realization that he was a murder suspect rolled through him.

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” he sputtered, looking to Vanzinger, then to Jankowski, before turning his eyes toward Eden.

  Charging past Jankowski, Eden pointed an accusing finger at Jacob, her face flushed red with emotion.

  “Why did you kill Ruth? Why’d you hang her from the bridge? What did she ever do to you?”

  Jankowski reached out to pull Eden back, but it was too late. Jacob grabbed her and twisted her around so that she faced Jankowski’s Glock. He wrapped a thick arm around her neck and dragged her back toward the woods, using her as a shield.

  “If either of you move I’ll snap her-”

  But Jacob didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. A heavy cane appeared out of the dark, whooshing through the air, connecting with Jacob’s head. Jankowski watched in surprise as Jacob crumbled to the ground unconscious. Seconds later a blonde man in a well-tailored coat stepped out from behind a thick, moss-covered tree trunk. He threw the cane down on the ground at Jankowski’s feet.

  “Well, I guess that stopped him.”

  Holding a shaking hand to her throat, Eden looked at the man.

  “I thought I told you to stay in the car, Nathan.”

  “Well then I’m glad I don’t take my orders from you anymore,” Nathan replied with a weak smile. “Besides, Duke was worried. He wanted to check on you.”

  At the sound of his name, Duke bounded out through the trees, his golden coat splattered with mud, but his tail wagging.

  Observing the happy reunion with worried eyes, Jankowski watched as Nathan pulled off his coat and wrapped it around Eden’s quivering shoulders. He turned to Vanzinger, who was kneeling beside Jacob, inspecting his head injury and checking his vital signs.

  “He’s out cold,” Vanzinger said, “but he’ll make it.”

  Jankowski looked back into the woods, wondering if Barker was okay, and if he and Frankie had found the source of the scream. A prickle of unease stirred inside him.

  This isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.

  Holding Jacob’s driver’s license in his hand, Jankowski faced Eden and Nathan, his voice somber.

  “This man, Jacob Albright, is a suspect in two homicides, and he’s also the man Pete Barker thinks may be involved with his daughter’s disappearance.”

  Eden looked up and frowned, pulling Duke closer to her in the chilly night air, her body tense as Jankowski continued.

  “Barker and his friend, Frankie Dawson, are back there in the woods. They heard a scream and went to investigate.”

  Vanzinger snapped handcuffs onto Jacob’s prostrate body, then hesitated, holding up a hand.

  “Listen…”

  They stood still, straining to hear the sound that was coming closer in the night.

  “It’s an ambulance,” Eden murmured, cocking her head. “And it’s coming from that direction.”

  Jankowski meet Vanzinger’s eyes, nodding in silent agreement.

  “We’re gonna go see what’s going on over there,” Jankowski said, holstering his Glock. “See if we can find Barker and Frankie. Try to find out what the ambulance is doing here.”

  “You mean you’re going to leave us out here, with him?”

  Nathan looked aghast as he surveyed Jacob, still unconscious on the ground. He pulled Eden against him as if to shield her, but she shrugged out from under his arm and put both hands on her hips.

  “We’re not staying out here on our own, and I’m not going back to that diner. There’re two dead bodies back there.”

  Jankowski’s jaw dropped open at the news. The situation was much worse than he’d feared. His mind began to spin with possibilities, and he remembered Barker’s pale face, suddenly terrified that something bad had happened to his old friend out in the woods.

  “We can’t leave them unguarded until we know what’s going on,” Vanzinger chimed in, looking a bit dazed. “They’ll have to stay with us until we find a secured location.”

  Nodding in resignation, Jankowski checked Jacob’s hands one last time. They were tightly locked in the cuffs. He and Vanzinger then dragged the big bag of guns and drugs off the path, concealing it behind a wilting palmetto bush and a few clumps of Spanish moss.

  “Okay, let’s go find out what the hell’s going on.”

  Vanzinger led the little group in single file formation down the path toward the siren’s wail. Jankowski brought up the rear, his unease growing as they advanced deeper and deeper into the woods.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Barker squinted into the darkness ahead, cursing himself for not bringing a flashlight. The trickle of light through the trees revealed an army of deep shadows around him, along with a few delicate patches of moonlight. The only thing that was keeping his feet moving forward was the single scream that had pierced his heart.

  He knew without a doubt it was the same high-pitched scream he’d heard whenever he’d sat next to Taylor on a roller coaster; the same scream he’d heard that last time they’d all gone to the beach as a family, when Taylor had sworn she’d seen a shark

  I know my Taylor’s voice. I know my girl’s nearby.

  Trying to catch his breath, he felt Frankie shivering heavily beside him. He wasn’t sure if Fra
nkie was shaking from the cold night air, or from outright fear, but either way, Barker was glad to know he wasn’t alone.

  “Look,” Frankie whispered, pointing a long finger toward an opening between two enormous maple trees. “Someone’s there.”

  Barker watched as the slim shadow of a girl slipped into the patch of light. She stopped, as if sensing that she was being watched, and looked around, pausing long enough for Barker to see her silhouette.

  “Taylor,” he tried to call out, but his mouth was dry, and the word came out as a hoarse whisper.

  Licking his lips and stepping forward, he opened his mouth to yell, then felt a hand smash across his face, smothering his cry. Struggling against the tight grip, Barker could feel Frankie’s heart thudding against his back.

  “There’s a man with a gun right behind her. Right there…”

  The frightened whisper sent a bolt of panic through Barker’s body. He ignored the wave of dizziness that threatened to engulf him, and instead shook off Frankie’s hand and began inching ahead, straining his eyes to get a better look at the dark figure creeping toward his daughter. A shimmer of light reflected off the metal of the rifle, pinpointing the man’s position.

  Moving silently forward, Barker tried not to think about anything but reaching the man’s hiding spot before he fired the weapon. Keeping his eyes on his target, he didn’t see the girl dart into the shadows; all he saw was the man raising the gun and taking aim.

  Barker hurdled blindly toward the dark figure, colliding with the man just as he was lowering the rifle. He hadn’t taken the shot. Barker rolled off the man, grabbed the gun and wrenched it away. He turned desperate eyes toward the patch of light where Taylor had stood. She was gone.

  “Taylor!” Barker shouted, his breath coming in gasps. “Taylor…it’s me. It’s Daddy.”

  Pushing himself to his knees, he grabbed onto a tree branch for support, then pulled himself up into a standing position. Frankie ran up beside him, pointing after the blonde man, who had already disappeared into the trees.

  “You wanna go after that little shithead?”