Cold Hunt

by Mary Stone

  “A detective who is following the evidence. Sometimes the evidence leads you in the wrong direction.” Jillian shrugged, giving Ellie a reassuring smile. “You’re a great detective, Ellie, and you have more fire than most I’ve seen. I have no doubt that when you solve this case, you’ll see how Garret and Bower fit in.”

  “I want to believe that.” She frowned and turned toward the computer. The video was paused on the silhouette of the man. Ellie’s stomach flipped, and she had to close her eyes to keep from retching.

  “Look, I won’t sit here and pretend that I understand how you feel or what you’re going through, but this isn’t helping things.” Ellie blinked, but Jillian’s face was still soft and understanding despite her direct words. “It’s okay to be angry, and it’s definitely okay to cry, but there’s someone out there who’s counting on you. You can’t save the woman in this video, Ellie. You just can’t.”

  Ellie inhaled deeply, holding her breath and nodding before she let it out. “But I might still be able to save Valerie.”

  “That’s right.” Jillian’s eyes filled with tears as she gestured to the video still paused on the screen. “I would give anything to go back in time and save young Ellie from this. But we can’t.”

  “You’re right.” Ellie straightened her shoulders, forcing a bravado she was nowhere close to feeling into her posture. “Valerie needs us.”

  “Valerie needs you.” Jillian shook her head. “I love working with you, but I don’t have the authority you do. When we find her, you can take some time, mourn what you’ve seen today, but until then, Valerie needs you to harness that anger and turn it into the fire that drives you.”

  Ellie’s heart swelled with Jillian’s every word. She closed her eyes and nodded. “I’m ready. Let’s get this monster and find Valerie.”

  Jillian’s grin was bright, eyes shining. “That’s the Ellie I know.” When Ellie got up and headed for the door, Jillian laughed. “Hey, where are you going?”

  “To talk to Fortis. I know Garret and Bower are connected to Tabitha and Mabel’s case, but I don’t know how.” Her eyes flicked to the computer screen, but she didn’t let them linger. “And I’m sure the man in my video has something to do with it. I’ll be back.” She was through the doorway when she paused and turned. “Thank you.”

  “You’ve talked me off the ledge a time or two. It’s about time I returned the favor.”

  Fortis waved Ellie into his office as soon as she stepped into the Violent Crimes Unit’s main office. “I heard what they found on Fink’s computer.” His expression was concerned, the lines on his forehead deep with worry. “If you need to go home, I understand.”

  “I don’t need—”

  He held up a hand. “I know you’ve been seeing Powell, and that’s great, but I think you need to work this through with him. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you had to see that. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, so take all the time you need. I can put another detective on the case and hopefully find the missing woman connected to John Doe, if she’s still alive.”

  Ellie hated that they had to continue to call the murdered man John Doe until his identity was officially confirmed. Knowing deep in her heart that he was Ben Brooks wasn’t enough.

  “I’m not here to ask for time off,” Ellie said, continuing to stand, “and I don’t want to be taken off the case. I will find Valerie Price, but that’s not why I’m here.”

  One dark, thick eyebrow arched upward. “Then what do you need?”

  “I need to reopen the Bower-Garret case. They were involved, sir, but there’s another man we need to investigate.”

  Fortis produced a pen and a notepad. “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He frowned. “I’m going to need more than that, Kline, to reopen a case.”

  “I can’t give you anything more right now, but I know the killer in the video isn’t Bower or Garret.”

  “Did you see his face?” When Ellie reluctantly shook her head, Fortis’s expression softened, his voice taking on a gentle tone. “Then how can you be sure?”

  “I just am.” Her gaze was unflinching.

  His bronze brow furrowed again, and he tapped the pen on the desk in thought. “Close the door.” When she did as he asked, he gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit down, please.”

  Dread tightened her chest, but she held her tongue.

  “I had some serious misgivings about letting you watch the video when Carl told me what he’d found, but I think, as a detective and the victim, you had a right to see it.” He paused, shuffled some papers on his desk, arranging them neatly. “I realize now that was a mistake.”

  Ellie lifted her chin. “This isn’t about my case.”

  “You’re right, it’s not, but you still can’t do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Revisit old cases and waffle on your interpretation of the evidence. Your detective work was sound, Mabel and Tabitha were laid to rest. And now you’re telling me that you want to trash that? Do you have any idea how that will look?”

  “It shouldn’t matter. I believe there’s more to their case than we thought.”

  “But it does matter. Because the public has to trust this department, and if you come back and say that you completely missed the mark—” He scoffed and ran one hand over his tight curls, shaking his head. “It shines a bad light on the entire department.”

  “But, sir, I—”

  “The case is solved, and the evidence supports it.”

  “Because they were involved. What if they’re connected to more cases like this?”

  His hazel eyes pinned her to the chair. “Move on, Detective.”

  “Sir, please.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not negotiating here, Kline. The case is closed until you prove it needs to be otherwise, and I don’t want to catch you meddling with it.”

  “Meddling?” Her eyes narrowed as her face heated.

  “You heard me, Kline. Walk away, focus on the John Doe case. You’ve made some significant headway through good, solid detective work. Wrap it up and move on to the next cold case.”

  Ellie’s jaw clenched. “What about Valerie Price?”

  “We’re at a standstill until Fink is willing to give up what happened to her. I’ll let you know if there’s anything new on that front.”

  “Can I question him?”

  “No.” The word shot out of his mouth even as she was finishing her question. “The case has been handed over to the district attorney. He’s speaking through his lawyer, and the D.A. is working on a deal in exchange for information. I want you on the Brooks case until then.”

  “What if she’s out there, alive?”

  “And what if she’s not? You saw the blood.”

  Ellie shook her head vehemently. “There wasn’t that much.”

  “That doesn’t mean she’s alive. With no medical care…” Fortis’s eyes softened, and he drew in a long, quiet breath. “Listen, Kline, I know you want to believe the woman is still out there, but we have to be logical about this. If she tried to escape and he threw her into the wall, her neck could’ve snapped. I’m sure that possibility went through your mind.”

  His words gave her pause. “No,” she murmured finally, shaking her head. “He kept her that long, was attached to her. I’m almost positive she’s alive.”

  “I want you on the Ben Brooks case, period. Until we have something on Valerie Price, you’re just spinning your wheels.” She opened her mouth, but he held up his hand before she could speak. “Let it go, Kline.”

  She stood up, trembling with rage. “Are we through here?”

  Fortis let out a heavy sigh, nodding to the door.

  She turned and walked out, letting the door close with a heavy thud behind her. In seconds, she was already in the hallway, walking so fast she was almost at a run. The walls were closing in on her, the long-buried sensation of being watched creeping up her spine. Her heart raced, p
alms damp. She needed to get out of the office.

  She needed space to think.

  Taking the stairs, she went out the side door and got into her car. Shaking still, she turned on the engine and sat there with the air-conditioning blasting despite the chilly day. Ice-cold air blew her hair away from her face, drying the angry tears that had slipped down over her cheeks.

  Was Fortis just trying to keep her busy and out of the way?

  She gripped the wheel until her knuckles turned white.

  Why was Fortis so convinced that Valerie Price was dead?

  And what if Arthur Fink refused to make a deal and never gave up her location? They couldn’t force him to testify, and without a body or sufficient blood to prove Valerie was dead, they would charge him with kidnapping and be done with it. The D.A. would have his win, and Charleston would go on, certain another monster was off the street, and the city was safe once more.

  She picked up the picture of Valerie and Ben, lying on her passenger seat, from their last night together, Valerie’s stunning blue eyes framed by light freckles. She was radiant, appearing to be so in love.

  Did she know that Ben had died alone in the woods?

  Or was she holding out the hope that, somehow, he would find a way to save her?

  Brushing the couple with the tip of her finger, Ellie straightened, her resolve growing stronger. She stuck the photo on the dash and put the car in gear. “Valerie, I know you’re alive. I will find you, no matter what.”

  It was a promise she would do anything to keep.

  19

  After dragging her up a set of wooden steps in the dark, the large man whose hand was clamped around her arm let go, and Valerie stumbled in an equally dark room. Reaching out with cuffed hands to break her fall, she grunted when the slick wood floor scuffed her bare knees.

  “Ah, hell. Get up.” The man grabbed her by the elbow and yanked her back onto her feet.

  “I can’t help it. I’m dizzy.” She pulled her arm away from his grip. “Maybe if you hadn’t slammed my head into the wall, I wouldn’t be slowing you down. It’s not too late to turn me loose.”

  The man’s laugh sent a chill up her spine. “You might be able to fool Arthur Fink into thinking you’re harmless, but I’m not stupid.” He shoved her forward. “Sit on the floor there.”

  Before she had a chance to comply, he kicked her feet out from under her. She went down hard, her already tender head hitting the wooden floor with a hollow thud. She fought the blackness that crept around the edges of her vision and groaned as her eyes rolled back into her head.

  When she came to, the man was squatting in front of a fireplace, using a match to light kindling. He muttered to himself as he worked, blowing gently on the tiny flame until it grew, engulfing the pile of wood he’d stacked on top.

  Valerie shivered violently and gagged. Her empty stomach heaved, but nothing came up.

  “Oh good, you’re up,” the man said sarcastically. “It was getting too peaceful in here.”

  “I’m cold.”

  “It’s winter.”

  “Do you have a blanket?”

  He gestured around the empty room, the only light the fire in the hearth, the flames throwing shadows on the walls. “Does it look like I was prepared to clean up Arthur Fink’s mess today? I don’t have a blanket for you, and I don’t have anything else you need.” He glared at her, the lines around his eyes deepening in the shadows. “You don’t honestly think having you waltz around in a little nighty was in my plans, do you?”

  She pushed herself upright, sitting so her back was against the wall. Ignoring the nausea that bubbled up, she glared back at him. “Why am I here?”

  He snarled in disgust and flung a hand into the air. She flinched, but he was too far away to touch her. “Do you miss Arthur already?”

  “No, but at least he never hurt me.”

  “Holding you captive for almost two years isn’t hurting you?”

  She blinked. “It wasn’t two years. It was sixty-five weeks and—”

  The man shook his head and laughed. “Does it matter if it was two months or two years?”

  “It does to me.”

  “Noted.” He grabbed a paper bag and tossed it at her. “I think you lost some time while you were counting. I got you a sandwich and some water.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Her stomach growled, but the thought of food made her want to retch.

  He shrugged. “I don’t really care what you do, but I would advise you to eat up. You’re going to need your strength.”

  “I think I have a concussion.” She touched her temple and grimaced.

  “Do what you’re told, and you won’t get hurt.”

  His words were cold, stinging Valerie to her very core. At least Arthur cared about me. The thought came out of nowhere, and no matter how hard she tried, thoughts of Arthur kept coming.

  You’re safe here. I only want to watch. Arthur’s voice echoed in her head. He’d never touched her, never hurt her. Until the day before, she hadn’t ever seen his face. Now it haunted her. Younger than she’d expected and not bad looking, if he’d approached her on the street, she wouldn’t have been afraid. Even drenched with angry tears, Arthur looked kind and trustworthy.

  When the man who now held her captive had barged into her fabricated home, Arthur following, he’d commanded Arthur to give Valerie up. Arthur had stomped his foot and argued as the man dragged her screaming from her rooms. Arthur hadn’t wanted to let her go, but he had been more afraid of what his fate would be if he didn’t comply.

  She closed her eyes, the memory filling her with renewed dread. Arthur had done something terribly wrong, and Valerie was caught in the middle.

  “You’re hurting her. Stop.”

  She slid down the wall and into a sitting position on the floor.

  The older man spun in the spacious bathroom that used to be her sanctuary, pointing a finger in Arthur’s face, rage flinging spittle from his mouth with every word. “You didn’t think. You just had to break the rules and post a picture of your little princess. You knew what would happen, so don’t blame this on me. I’m just here to clean up your mess. The only person you have to blame for this is yourself, Fink.”

  “Please, don’t hurt Taryn.”

  He shook his head, gray hair highlighted under the florescent lighting, and pulled out handcuffs. “You’re pathetic.”

  “You don’t understand,” Arthur whimpered, arms wrapping around himself. He rocked in place, staring off into the distance.

  Moments later, the older man advanced on her.

  Valerie screamed, but Arthur just stood there, bottom lip pushed out as if the intruder was stealing his favorite toy and not a living human being.

  When the stranger was a few steps away, Valerie rolled onto her back and kicked upward, catching the man on his thigh.

  He grunted and went down to his knee, but then he was up again, rage twisting his face. “You’ll pay for that.”

  Instinctively, she rolled to her knees. But as she crawled away, he grabbed her ankle and yanked her backward, flipping her over in one swift move. He pulled his hand back, roaring as his fist connected with her cheek in a crack of knuckles and an explosion of light that blinded her. Her head was flung to the side with such force, the back of her head smacked the tile and bounced. The cracking sound faded into a distant echo, mixing with screams.

  Was it her screams she heard, or Arthur’s?

  It was the last thought she had before the darkness dragged her down, suffocating her with its weight.

  Valerie sat up with a start, dragging air into her lungs, eyes darting around the unfamiliar space in a panic. The crackling fire caught her attention as she blinked several times, trying to find her way back to reality.

  “You’re probably right about that concussion.” Valerie jumped and turned, searching for her kidnapper in the orange glow from the fireplace. He laughed at her. “Best not go to sleep again if you want to live.” He shrugged and t
urned his hands palms up. “Or go to sleep. That might be a better way to go.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but moving her jaw was painful. She lightly fingered her split lip and tried to swallow. “Water.”

  “I offered you water, you didn’t want it.” He pointed at the paper bag near her feet. “It’s still there. Probably still cold.”

  She dug through the bag, opening the bottle of water with shaking hands and holding it to her lips. Water dribbled over her chin and down her neck, but she focused on swallowing what made it into her mouth. The man gave a disgusted snort, but he didn’t move to help her.

  She struggled to keep her eyes open as exhaustion crept in again. You have to stay awake, she thought frantically, but her body was losing the battle against the effects of the concussion.

  The man’s eyes were on her, watching her with cold indifference. He stood and walked across the room, kicking a piece of wood that had rolled off the pile out of his way, cursing when it bounced off the wall and rolled back into the center of the room.

  Valerie dug her nails into her palms, but the pain did little to keep her awake. Each time she blinked, it took all her strength to open her eyes again. Dying now would be a merciful way to end things, as he’d implied. She shuddered at what he’d left unsaid. What did he have planned for her?

  The man was facing away from her, attending to the fire, when his phone rang. The shrill noise split the silence and made her already throbbing headache pulse inside her skull. She closed her eyes against the pain and leaned back against the cold wall, slowing her breathing and letting her head droop to the side.

  “Yes,” the man answered. His heavy boots clunked against the wooden floor when he turned around. “She’s out again. I think she’s got a concussion.” He was quiet as the person on the other end spoke. “Fink didn’t take it well, but he knows the rules, and he should’ve known an anonymous handle is never truly anonymous.”

  He turned away from her again, confident that she was out. She kept her head in position, opening just one eye in case he turned back around.