Cold Hunt

by Mary Stone

  “I had a choice.”

  “But you did what you had to do. Anyone can see that. Tell me who’s running the human trafficking ring and help me take them down.”

  He stared at her through the darkness, grinding out the cigarette butt right on the porch. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “My wife might be gone, but I have grandkids now. I have to think about them.”

  “So, you’re going to let Valerie die?”

  “Her blood is on Arthur Fink’s hands. If he hadn’t bragged about his little toy, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” Picking up the pack, he crossed his hands over his belly. “You wouldn’t be darkening my doorstep, and the master wouldn’t have dragged me out of retirement for one last job.”

  “Where is she?” Ellie could barely restrain herself from pulling her gun and giving him a reason to tell her.

  “I’ve been bowing to the rich my entire career. These are your people, Kline. Figure it out yourself.” He took another smoke out and lit it.

  “I don’t have time for this.”

  “You’re right about that.” He held the cigarette between his teeth and leaned toward the table beside him. But instead of setting down the box of matches like she expected, he reached under a newspaper and pulled out a handgun.

  Ellie instantly drew her weapon. “Freeze!”

  His laugh was loud. Mocking. “What are you going to do, Kline? Shoot me?” He pressed the muzzle of the gun to his temple. “I didn’t bring this out here for you.”

  Heart hammering in her throat, she lowered the gun until it was pointing at the porch steps. “Tell me where she is.”

  “Piss off.”

  His words made her gut clench, her hands turn clammy. “Jones, please, don’t do this.”

  “I left notes for my children on the dining room table.” He waved as if shooing away an annoying fly. “Not that they’ll understand that I did this for them.”

  “Where is Valerie?”

  “Do your job, Detective. If you’re any good, you’ll know just where to look.”

  “Don’t do this,” she pleaded.

  He took a drag off his cigarette and smiled at her with it still between his teeth. “It’s open season, sweetheart.”

  The blast echoed through the quiet neighborhood a second before her ears started ringing. He held her gaze until his head whipped back, and the cigarette fell partway out of his mouth, stuck to his bottom lip. As if in slow motion, Jones’s arm fell to his side, and the gun skittered across the porch floor, his body slumping in the rocking chair.

  Ellie turned and ran toward her car, phone already up to her ear.

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  “Shots fired at three forty-five Mockingbird Lane.” She then said the words that she knew would get the fastest response. “Officer down.”

  “Ma’am, are you on the scene? What is your name?”

  She repeated the address one last time and disconnected the call. Ignoring the return call, she yanked open the door and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. Neighbors were already spilling out of their houses and onto their lawns, cell phones lighting up the darkness as they frantically dialed for help. Ellie jumped into the driver’s seat and backed out of the dead-end, speeding away.

  There was no saving Jones, but Valerie might still be alive.

  And the dead man was right. Ellie knew exactly where she was.

  28

  Valerie stretched, rolling over beneath the plush down comforter and snuggling into the bed. Pain shot through her head, and she winced.

  “Yer head still tender?” The man’s voice was soft and closer than she’d expected.

  Keeping her eyes closed, she turned to stone as he stroked her forehead with his finger, moving a lock of hair away from her face.

  “You are a vision, but I’m sure you know that. No need to play possum, I’m not about to hurt you.”

  “That’s what they all say.” She opened her eyes, glaring up at him.

  “Oh, those baby blues are fierce.” He touched her cheek, his fingers caressing the week-old bruise, soft as a feather. “Savages. A man should never lay a hand on a woman like he did.”

  Before she knew what he was about to do, he threw back the covers and held out his hand.

  She curled up into a fetal position, covering herself with her hands, and frowned at the unfamiliar fabric beneath her fingers. “These aren’t my clothes.”

  “Darlin’, that frilly stuff Fink had you in wasn’t clothin’. You’ll catch your death dressed like that.” He grimaced, his golden eyes discreetly moving away. “It was pervy, no matter what Fink likes to tell himself. A real man doesn’t treat a lady like that.”

  “How does a real man treat a lady?” She took his hand and gave him a soft smile. Not too friendly, not too bright. Believable. Charming. It wasn’t the only survival skill she’d mastered over the years.

  “To start, I’ve made you a nice dinner. I hope you like tortellini and filet mignon.”

  Girls don’t eat steak. She flinched, Arthur’s whiny voice echoing in her memories. Would this man be like Arthur, or would he be better? She’d been eating what Arthur considered “girl food” for almost two years. She never wanted to see a lean chicken breast and salad again.

  He lowered his head to put himself in her line of sight. “Earth to Valerie. You hungry?”

  “You called me by my name,” she whispered.

  A large, toothy grin stretched across his handsome face, and he stroked his beard. “What else would I call a lady than by her name?”

  She stood when he tugged on her hand, surprised by the weight of well-fitting athletic shoes after wearing nothing but white ankle socks for almost two years.

  The heavenly smell of garlic and parmesan floated down the hallway and made her mouth water and forget the strangeness of waking up with shoes on. By the time they made it to the cozy dining room, her stomach was growling.

  The man let go of her hand and pulled out a chair for her. “I have water or juice. Which would you prefer?”

  “Do you have anything with alcohol?”

  He chuckled. “I have a six-pack of beer in the fridge. Not exactly the most elegant pairin’ with our meal, but if you’d like one—”

  “I would love one.”

  He was still laughing when he went into the kitchen and returned with a bottle for each of them. She tugged at her shirt and wiggled in the chair. When he popped the tops and handed her one, she took a slow sip from the icy bottle.

  “Is there somethin’ wrong with your clothes?”

  She smiled apologetically. “It’s been a long time since I’ve worn this much clothing.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, heat rose up her throat and spread to her cheeks. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

  She shoved pasta into her mouth as her eyes heated too. She chewed slowly, blinking back tears as she savored the rich flavors, and wishing she’d kept her thoughts to herself.

  “Hey, hey. Don’t cry. There’s nothin’ to be ashamed of. You can’t control what happens to you.”

  She shuddered and swiped angrily at her cheeks. “Thank you. It’s just been so long since I’ve been treated like anything but a little doll. It’s weird.”

  “I’d imagine so. Eat up. You’ll be needin’ your strength.” He cut into his steak with gusto. “How’s your head feelin’?”

  “Better than it was a few days ago.”

  “You steady on your feet?”

  She nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear when it fell forward. “I feel like I am.”

  “Good.”

  When she lifted her chin, their eyes met, and she smiled shyly before averting her gaze. “You’re not like the other men.”

  “I should hope not.”

  Her stomach suddenly felt like it was going to pop. She pushed her plate away and frowned. “I’m sorry. It was delicious, but I’m already full.”

  “It hap
pens. The important thing is that you got what you needed.”

  “I did, thank you.” She yawned and leaned back in the chair, stretching her arms. “I don’t know if it’s the beer or whatever that man injected me with, but I’m still so tired.”

  “It’s late, and there’s no reason to stay up if you need your rest.”

  “I should help with the dishes, though.”

  He stood and grabbed her plate before she could. “Nonsense. You go on to your room.”

  He’s not going to follow me and lock me in? She stood still, hesitant to move for a moment in case she broke the spell and unleashed the monster he was surely hiding.

  Why am I here if he’s just going to let me roam free and live like a human being? Not knowing his motives was almost as bad as living under Arthur’s constant gaze. Well, not quite.

  Inside the bedroom, she closed the door behind her and moved her thumb to lock it, but there was no latch on the knob. Slipping her shoes off to make her footsteps silent, she hurried around the room, checking the windows and investigating the bathroom and closet. One of the windows budged when she pushed up on it, and she gasped, excitement rising in her chest.

  She checked the door, holding her breath and waiting to see if the man had heard the slight sound it had made.

  When he didn’t come, she gritted her teeth together and slid the window open as quietly as she could, cringing when it let out a low screech. She froze, but the hall beyond her bedroom door remained silent.

  “The screen won’t keep out any bears, so close that when you’re done, if ya would.”

  Valerie jumped, following the sound of his voice until she saw him waving from the edge of the porch.

  “If fresh air is what yer after, you can come join me for a spell.” He patted the chair next to him. “Or leave it open, and I’ll close it when I head to bed. Your choice.”

  She swallowed down the sob that wanted to escape. “I’ll close it now, thank you.”

  When the bottom of the window slid home, she turned and pressed her back against the wall. Her heart was pounding, hands trembling.

  How long had she been investigating her surroundings? Long enough for him to put the food away and make himself comfortable outside. She realized that, even if he left her alone, he would always be close by. Throwing herself on the bed, she buried her face in the pillow so he wouldn’t hear her crying.

  She must have cried herself to sleep because, when Valerie awoke again later that night, the moon was high above the trees when she gazed outside the window. She laid in the bed for a long time, listening, but the house was silent. Her search for a clock came up empty, but she could tell from the height of the moon that it was late and would be dark for a few more hours.

  Silently picking up her shoes, she walked across the room and to the window once again.

  Peering out into the dark, she scanned the porch and the woods. Empty.

  Taking a deep breath, she tapped into the well of strength that had been building since she’d ended up in this house, trapped, but able to see the outdoors lying beyond.

  This time, when she planted her fingers on the window, she jimmied it opened with painstaking slowness, praying it didn’t screech again.

  Minutes passed slow as molasses in a cold snap and sweat ran down her face. When it was finally high enough for her to fit through, she slithered through the tight opening one foot at a time and lowered herself onto the wraparound porch.

  The cold seeped through the bottom of her socks as she walked to the edge of the wooden deck in the silvery light. Out in the yard, patches of fog parted to reveal the twinkling of dewdrops in the grass. She slipped her shoes on, gingerly tiptoeing down the stairs. Stepping onto the driveway, she cringed when the gravel crunched beneath her shoe. She paused, but there was no sign that her captor had heard.

  Taking a moment to let her eyes adjust, she groaned inwardly. The cabin was in a wooded area much more remote than she had anticipated, and the driveway disappeared into a darkness so black that no amount of blinking could bring it into focus.

  They were miles from the nearest city. Even if that wasn’t the case, she couldn’t afford to take the direct route. He would search the road first. She couldn’t risk that. No matter how nice he’d been, he’d bought her like livestock. Something wasn’t right.

  Her gaze landed on his truck, parked a short distance away. As remote as the cabin was, there was a chance he’d left his keys in the vehicle.

  Heart pounding, she crossed the gravel path in three long strides and stood on her tiptoes to see the ignition through the glass.

  “I’m not quite that daft, Valerie.”

  She jumped and spun around, gasping, frantically searching for a way to explain away what she was doing. “I um—”

  “No need to explain yourself. As humans, we’re built to be free. To be honest, I would’ve been disappointed if you hadn’t tried to escape, and I must say I’m surprised you managed it this soon. You are feisty, as promised.” He grinned and rested the rifle he carried on his shoulder. “I’m more excited than I thought I’d be.”

  “I wasn’t going to run.” Her voice came out thin and shrill.

  He laughed, the sound echoing off the trees and cutting off suddenly moments later, muted by the dense layer of fog that swirled around their ankles. “An utter lie. It’s in your nature to want to run, but I’m not gonna make it that easy.”

  Her body was shaking, from fear or from the cold. “What do you want from me?”

  “For you to do your best.” He smiled, but the way the shadows played on his face, it was more evil than amused. “It’s all any of us can do.”

  “My best…?”

  “Ben did his best, but it wasn’t good enough, I’m afraid.”

  The air rushed out of her lungs as if she’d been gut-punched. “Ben?”

  “He talked about you, ya know?” He held his hand up, fingers together, and tapped them on his thumb, mimicking someone talking too much. “Girlfriend this, and girlfriend that. He was intent on findin’ you. I think out of all of them, he was my favorite. Shame I wasn’t able to buy you then, so I could enjoy watchin’ you two work together to survive.”

  Emotion burned through her sinuses as pain ripped a hole in her chest. “What did you do to him?”

  “I gave him a head start, just like I’m givin’ you.” He motioned to the woods. “I haven’t gotten a chance to use my skills at night, yet.” He bounced on the balls of his feet, clearly excited. Bile rose in Valerie’s throat. “If you can’t tell, I’m anxious to get started.”

  She shook her head, knowing she must be caught up in a nightmare. This couldn’t be real. The past two years couldn’t be real. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m surprised. A woman who puts steak away like you do should be an avid hunter, or at least know somethin’ about it.”

  “What are you hunting?” She swallowed hard, because she already knew the answer. But she was buying time, trying to figure out what to do.

  “Why darlin’. I’m huntin’ pretty little you.” His chest heaved with each elated breath. “This is amazin’.” He flung his arms up toward the sky, shaking the gun, his smile radiant, giddy with excitement. “I know it might be temptin’ to head down the road, but that’s too easy. I’d like to work a little harder than the last one.”

  “Ben,” she shouted as hot tears cascaded down her face. “His name was Ben.”

  He grinned. “What makes you think your Ben was the last one? Like I said before, Ben wasn’t half bad, but I want to work a little harder for it.” He lifted a shoulder. “Of course, if you want to run down the road and waste my money being easy prey, you do that.” He motioned to the woods behind her with his rifle. “I’d head that way if I were you. I’ll give you a ten-minute head start.”

  She was rooted to the ground, her mind unable to accept what he was saying.

  He laughed and pointed the gun at her with a wide grin. “If I was you, darlin’, I’d turn
tail and run now. Time’s a wastin’.”

  His laughter echoed behind her as she turned, kicking up gravel. She dashed into the woods, desperately searching in the dark for a trail to follow. Hands out in front of her, she shoved bare branches out of the way, her frantic breath crystalizing in plumes in front of her.

  Ben’s face teased at her memory, but she pushed it back, desperate to focus on the moment, even as she mourned his loss. Seeing him again was the hope that had helped her live through hell for so long. Now, she knew she was alone in the world.

  And a madman was after her.

  She had to find somewhere to hide before her time was up. She’d been through so much, she didn’t have it in her to give up now.

  As much as she loved him, she didn’t want to suffer the same fate that Ben had, alone and scared, running through the woods like an animal.

  She didn’t want to die alone.

  More than that, she didn’t want to die at all.

  29

  As she pressed her foot on the accelerator, Ellie’s ears were still ringing from the gunshot Jones had fired when she was only a few feet away.

  One of his neighbors ran out into the street, waving his arms, intent on flagging her down as his wife called for help on the phone. They didn’t know she was a cop, and she didn’t have time to stop and fill them in. She jerked the wheel hard to the right, going up the edge of another neighbor’s driveway, gunned it down the sidewalk and off the curb. The waving man stood in the street, planting his hands on his hips, too shocked to think about taking down her license plate number.

  It didn’t matter. Everyone at Charleston PD knew she drove a silver Q3. It was only a matter of time before they all knew she was on the scene when Jones died. They would have questions, and she wasn’t ready to give them answers she didn’t have.

  She was turning onto Piedmont Avenue, typing a message to Jillian, and heading for the highway, when her phone rang. Fortis’s number appeared on the dashboard screen. She used the button on her steering wheel to send it to voicemail, but it rang again immediately. On the fifth try, she finally took his call.