by Mary Stone
“Kline, what happened?” He was breathing hard, his voice bouncing with each word, as if he was running with the phone to his ear.
“He shot himself, sir.”
“You didn’t shoot him? Please tell me you didn’t shoot him.”
“No, sir.” She took a sharp right out of the neighborhood, stepping on the accelerator.
“I hope you’re not lying to me, Kline. I told you to let me handle this. There’s a way to do this, and whatever this stunt you pulled is, it’s not the way.”
“It wasn’t a stunt,” she said in a calm voice, but Fortis wasn’t done raking her over the coals.
“What were you thinking? Never mind, don’t answer that.”
“I didn’t know he had a gun until it was too late.”
It was the truth. Hidden in the shadows, she’d only been able to make out part of his face. The rest of the porch had been cloaked in darkness. Ellie had no doubt Jones had planned it that way. He’d known she was coming, and he’d set it all up. The question was, how?
“I’m not talking to you about this over the phone.” He wasn’t huffing into the phone now, but his tone told her he was in a hurry to pick up the pieces of a night that had gone to shit in the blink of an eye. “Where are you now?”
“I’m on my way home,” she lied.
“Swing by the department. I need to get your statement and check your weapon to see if it’s been fired. I’ll have to put you on administrative leave until this is cleared up.” He cursed under his breath. “Dammit, Kline. I told you to wait.”
“He was ready for me.”
“At least one of us expected you to act like an insubordinate jackass.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He scoffed, then his tone softened. “You shouldn’t have left the scene. There are dozens of calls from his neighbors reporting a silver Audi Q3 speeding away. I knew before I was told that you were the first to call it in, that it was you. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, this doesn’t look good.”
“I’m not worried about it.”
“You should be. This isn’t something your parents’ money can buy your way out of. If you’re charged in the murder of another officer, active or retired, I don’t know if I can help you.”
Wouldn’t that be convenient? Ellie frowned, still not sure whether Fortis was one of the good guys. “The truth will come out in the end.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re talking about more than Jones’s death?”
Relief flooded through her when Jillian’s number popped up on the display. “I have another call coming in. I have to take this.”
“I want you in the office in twenty minutes,” Fortis yelled. “Don’t stop anywhere. And if you have a lawyer on speed dial, you might want to wake them up now. This isn’t going to go well, Kline. No matter what I say, people are going to think you killed him. I’m doing this for your safety.”
“Duly noted, sir.”
“I’m not playing with you, Kli—”
She switched over to Jillian’s call, cutting Fortis off midsentence. “Jillian, did you get my text?”
“Ellie, what is going on?”
“Jones offed himself, but not before he gave me a hint about Valerie’s whereabouts.”
“A hint?”
“He was trying to protect his family and wouldn’t name names.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Jillian, I know who has her.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“Just you. All of Charleston PD is on the way to Jones’s house. It’s going to be a madhouse there, but they’ll be occupied for a couple hours. Keeping this information to myself is the only way I can save her without worrying another dirty cop will step in and stop me.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she shuddered. She never imagined there would be a day when she would fear her fellow officers. But if Jones could be so easily bought, then so could another. People like this Doctor X person knew what they were doing. They knew which officers were vulnerable.
“Please don’t tell me you’re going after him alone.”
“Not entirely alone. I sent the GPS coordinates to your phone. Bring your gun and meet me there.”
“It’s an hour away,” Jillian practically squeaked out over the phone.
“I know. Hurry. Speed. Do whatever it takes.”
“Where are you now?”
“Halfway there.”
“Ellie, wait for me. This isn’t safe.” Jillian’s voice was panicked. In the background, her car door slammed, and the engine roared to life. The radio blared for an instant and was silenced. “I’m coming. Don’t take any chances on your own. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“I can’t risk Valerie’s life. Jones’s death will be all over the news in an hour, maybe two if we’re lucky. If I wait, he’ll know I’m coming for him, and he’ll kill her.”
“What if he kills you too?”
“I’d rather take that chance than live with the fact that I let Valerie die when I could’ve saved her.”
“I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
“I know you will.”
“Ellie, please be careful.” Jillian hung up, and the silence before the Bluetooth switched back to the radio reminded Ellie that her ears were still buzzing.
On the southbound side of the freeway, half a dozen units flew down the interstate with full lights and sirens, heading for the Jones house. As far as they knew, he was still one of their own. Until the truth came out and his shame was revealed, he would be treated with the same reverence every officer received on their end of watch.
That started with a line of squad cars waiting to escort the coroner’s van to the morgue. The vigil wouldn’t end until his casket was lowered into the ground. For his family’s sake, Ellie hoped Jones was buried before the world found out what he’d done. But if there was any justice in the world, he would be cremated and tossed into a plain cardboard box, stacked on a shelf to collect dust and be forgotten. Just like all the victims whose murders he’d helped cover up.
Slamming the accelerator to the floor, Ellie shot forward on the freeway, pushing the car to ninety miles per hour, then ninety-five. She kept her eyes on the road, ignoring the sensor warning her with a gentle beep that she was going too fast. With every cop in the county on the way to Jones’s house, there was no one to slow her down, and at this late hour, the freeway was practically deserted.
She made it to the exit in record time, taking the narrow lane faster than she should’ve without batting an eye. Her hands gripped the wheel, and she guided the SUV over the winding road as she raced out of town and into the more rural area west of Northern Charleston. Sam chuffed in the passenger seat, whimpering as she stared out the window into the night, her ears raised and tail motionless.
Ellie flew past the Bartlett Woods general store, following the path she’d driven a few short weeks before. Tucker Penland had fooled her with a friendly smile and a warm coat. His smooth, easygoing demeanor had dropped her defenses, and there was nothing about his quaint, cozy house on the hill that screamed money. Tucker had flown under the radar with such grace, he’d had even the most cynical officer eating right out of his hand.
Beating her fist on the steering wheel, the grin on his handsome face taunted her. The man who’d led her to the crime scene had seemed so normal. She cursed under her breath, knowing he’d probably enjoyed every moment of their interaction. Even surrounded by an entire search crew the next time they met, he’d been calm and cool, completely unfazed by the police presence. He knew Jones had done his job and done it well. Tucker Penland knew he was untouchable.
“Not anymore, asshole,” she hissed, drawing a worried whine from Sam, who now sat with her neck stretched tall so she could see over the dash.
“I can’t believe I fell for it.” She turned the corner and doused the lights, shaking with rage and fear. What if she was too late?
What if Valerie’s dead body was still warm when she found
her?
White gravel glowed in the night, lighting her way to the house, but she turned off her lights before she went around the last turn. Tucker’s beat-up truck was in its normal place, and there was only one light on in the window.
Quietly opening her car door, Ellie got out and donned her Kevlar vest, covering it with a jacket. Sam pushed past her before she could close the door. “Stay behind me,” she said automatically, shaking her head at herself. She pulled her gun out of its holster and crept up to the house that reminded her of an old creepy cabin in long, hurried steps.
The open window caught her attention just as her hand closed over the knob on the front door. It turned in her hand.
She sensed before she stepped across the threshold that the house was empty, but she swept the rooms anyway, finishing her quick search at the one with the open window. It was clearly set up for guests and had been used recently.
The bed was unmade, and in the corner, near the hamper, was a small plastic bag with several sets of women’s underwear with tags still on them. They were the same kind that forensics had pulled from the basement dungeon in Arthur Fink’s house.
In the small closet hung several sets of athletic pants and matching shirts in various sizes. Black with a white stripe down the legs, they were a unisex cut and could be ordered online for next to nothing.
The clothes were nearly identical to the ones that Ben had been dressed in when he was shot and killed, removing any lingering doubt Ellie had that Tucker Penland was the killer.
The house was deserted, but the kitchen sink still held two sets of dinnerware, and the fragrance of garlic and homemade bread rolls lingered.
She was gone, but Valerie had definitely been in Tucker Penland’s cabin.
Sam followed close on Ellie’s heels, waiting for her next command dutifully. It was like she could sense how dire the situation was, and she wasn’t about to let Ellie out of her sight.
“They’re not here.” Ellie’s voice echoed in the empty house.
Sam turned toward the door and gave a soft yip.
“I can’t wait for backup,” she muttered to herself.
Sam snuffled at the closed front door and whined even louder.
“That’s my girl.” Ellie opened the door for Sam. “Now, let’s go find Valerie.”
Calling Sam to her, she picked her way in the dark to the trail where Ben had been found.
Crack!
The sound of a gun blast split the silent night.
Even as the sound echoed into the night, she rushed into the woods, her weapon out front, leading the way.
Somewhere in the night, Valerie was running for her life.
But Tucker Penland had no idea that Ellie was hunting the hunter.
30
Valerie crouched down behind a boulder, pressing her back against the icy slate. She covered her mouth with her sleeve to keep her breath from giving her away, willing her racing heart to slow so she could hear the man tramping around the woods in the night. He was making no attempt to be quiet, and his brazen behavior had her terrified. She held her breath, ears straining to find his location in the darkness without giving away her position.
When he shouted into the night without any warning, she jumped and caught the scream behind pinched lips.
“Yer good at this, but I’m better. Ready or not, here I come.”
He’s not afraid of anyone hearing him. The realization dissolved the lingering hope of rescue she’d been clutching tightly, the only thing keeping despair from dragging her under. But she understood now; she would have no one but herself to come to her rescue, and the man would chase her until he gunned her down.
Just like Ben.
“This is more fun than I expected,” the maniac shouted. A rock the size of a golf ball sailed through the air and bounced off a tree twenty feet to her left. “You would’ve been proud of Ben.” He chuckled. “He spent his final meal talkin’ about you. It was exhausting. All he could think about was findin’ you and settin’ you free. He practically begged me to buy you. I know it’s a little late now, but you should have married that man when you had the chance. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore, and I can say with absolute certainty that you were the last thing on his mind.”
He roared with laughter, and Valerie closed her eyes against rage that mingled with the stabbing pain that was the truth in his words. Ben had asked her to marry him many times, and there had always been something she wanted to do first.
Another rock skittered across the top of the boulder, ricocheted off the tree in front of her, and bounced back, striking her in the shoulder. She winced but remained silent. He was still on the gravel trail, nearly fifty feet away. A few lucky throws didn’t mean he knew where she was.
She repeated the mantra to herself in her mind, in an attempt to stay calm.
He doesn’t know where I am. He doesn’t know.
“When I stood over him and watched the blood drain from the wound in his back, I expected him to beg me to save his life. Or maybe to end it all, but the coward wouldn’t look me in the eye. He smiled at the sky like a fool, and the last thing he said was your name. It was so romantic, I regretted not buyin’ you both. Watchin’ you die in each other’s arms would’ve been terribly romantic.”
The hot tears that flooded her cheeks were cold by the time they reached her throat, but they kept coming as she pictured her Ben, holding on to his faith until the very end.
“You’ve lasted a long time out here. Cold yet? Maybe we should speed things along. I like me a cold hunt, but no use lettin’ ya freeze to death when a bullet is much more fun. Ben didn’t last this long.”
He paused for so long Valerie thought he was done, but when he spoke again, it was clear he’d circled around the area, trying to find where she had hidden herself on the rocky hillside.
“I thought about buyin’ me a huntin’ dog, but that makes things too easy. They smell yer fear. It travels through the air like sweet, sweet perfume. Are you afraid, Valerie? Do you wish you were still in Arthur’s little dollhouse, wastin’ away, star of his private TV show?”
This time, the rock was farther away than the first had been, bouncing wildly down the hill and disappearing out of sight.
“The only good thing about them dogs is they flush the game out. There’s no sport in shooting a sitting duck, even if she’s a clever little thing. But if you can get a dog to scare them out of hidin’, they run fast. A good dog will run them right into the line of fire.”
The boom shocked her heart, the pain in her chest so great that for a moment, she thought she’d been hit. But a spray of bark rained down from a dead, brittle tree that leaned precariously over the edge of the hill. It wobbled for a moment and split in the middle where the bullet had buried in the trunk, toppling over with a loud crash.
“Whew! That was close!”
Valerie’s whole body trembled, the urge to get up and run so great, she had to grapple with her instincts to survive.
She spotted him in the light of the moon through the trees. He danced on the ridge, stomping his feet and spinning as he chanted nonsense.
The only thing she was certain of was that he still had no idea where she was. This was all for show, and as long as she stayed put, he would move on and look for her somewhere else. His shot had been meant to scare her, to draw her out of the woods and into his sight. He had no idea just how close he’d come. If he had, he wouldn’t be moving away from her as he celebrated what he thought was a certain victory.
Or would he? Was he just playing a game to trick her out of hiding?
A sob tore out of her chest, but she silenced it beneath her sleeve-covered hand that she’d been breathing into.
His footfalls faded, the crunching of the gravel and frozen leaves growing softer with every step until they were all but gone.
She shivered as the icy wind worked its way around the boulder and through the thin fabric of her long-sleeved shirt. There was no snow on the ground, but w
ith the temperature hovering right above freezing, the wind had chilled the foggy moisture that settled on the landscape until it was crisp ice. It twinkled like tiny stars as she blinked away hot tears and pulled her knees closer to her body for warmth.
Exposed to the elements, her face was numb, and her head ached with every rapid beat of her heart. Despair threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced it back. Now was the time to move. She would grieve Ben later, if she survived the night.
Without knowing where she was in the vast wilderness, she chose the only direction she thought was smart, that could possibly lead her out of the forest. She left the safety of the large boulder, carefully picking her way over the rough terrain, making her way downhill. There was no telling if she would find civilization at the bottom, but one thing was certain, she couldn’t sit in the forest and wait for the man to kill her.
The wind swirled around her as she moved swiftly, lifting her hair off her neck and diving down the back of her shirt. Her skin broke out in goose bumps so large they were painful, her mad dash through the dark, dense forest doing next to nothing to warm her cold body.
I’m going to freeze to death before he kills me, she thought, angry at Ben for insisting they walk home when their car service was late that night. He’d gotten himself killed, and two years of suffering later, Valerie was afraid she was about to meet the same fate.
It wasn’t fair. They’d spent their days together doing good. He didn’t deserve what had happened to him.
As she walked, thorns catching her legs, she thought about Arthur’s stupidity too. As much as she hated the little weasel, at least there’d been hope. She’d never known a moment of hunger, pain, or cold in her home in that basement of his. Now that she was so cold her body ached and her joints had stiffened, she knew there were worse things than living under the watchful eye of Arthur Fink.
A snapping twig had her head swiveling to the right. She jumped backward, quickly finding a space between a tree and a low, thick bush to hide.