Deep Dark (27 page)

CHAPTER 29

Reed sped toward the police station.

“We need to take him down ASAP,” he told Jay.

“You think he knows we're on to him?”

“Hell, yes. He just planted the bloody murder weapon and handed us our prime suspect on a silver platter.”

“You're right,” Jay said. “I bet he's the ‘dog walker' who phoned in that tip.”

“Just like he's the helpful neighbor up in Michigan. Who are you calling?”

“Jordan. She should still be there. . . . Hey, it's Jay. Listen, is Paul in the lab?” Jay looked at him across the truck. “Yeah, go check.”

Reed tapped the brakes as he raced through another intersection.

“He's gone.”

“Shit.” Reed pounded the steering wheel.

“Said he planned to work from home the rest of the day,” Jay added.

“We need to get a team over there. He's definitely a flight risk. Explain it to Jordan, get her to tell Hall.”

Jay was frowning now, clearly unhappy about something she was telling him. “They're in the middle of a press conference,” Jay said. “A SWAT team's not happening, at least not anytime soon.”

“You and me, then,” Reed said. “We'll scrounge up some patrol guys for backup. We can take him down and figure out the rest later. At minimum, we need to get eyes on his house. I'm telling you, when he finds out we've ID'd him, he's going to go off the grid.”

Jay was shaking his head again and put the phone on speaker. “Jordan, I'm with Reed. You're on speaker.”

“He's in the middle of a press conference,” she said.

“Who, Hall?” Reed asked.

“Hall, the chief, a couple of PR flacks. They're announcing we have a suspect in custody.”

“He arrested Phelps?” Jay asked.

“Just a minute ago, yeah.”

“On what charges?”

“Making false statements. And also—”

“Jordan, listen,” Reed cut in. “I need you to look up an address for me.”

“What am I, your secretary?”

“It's important. I need the home address for Paul Doher.”

She paused a beat. “
Our
Paul?”

“Yes, and I need it fast.”

“Yeah, what's up with that? Why's everyone asking for Paul's address today?”

“What do you mean?” Reed looked at Jay. “Who else is asking for it?”

“Laney Knox called here half an hour ago,” Jordan said. “She wanted the same thing.”

•   •   •

Her chest felt hollow. Fear zinged around inside it like a trapped sparrow trying to get out.

“We're going to do this slowly,” he said, and the muzzle of the gun pressed against her spine. “You're going to lift your arms, both of them.”

Her hand was frozen around her phone. Would she be able to slide her thumb over the emergency call button without looking at it?

“Now. Do it.”

Her heart thudded. She lifted her arms up. She heard him take a step back, then another.

“Now, turn around. Slowly.”

Her tongue felt thick. She swallowed. Slowly, she turned around.

Paul's face was tight, his blue eyes squinty. The side of his lip curled up in a sneer.

“Your shock betrays you, Delaney. You don't remember me.”

Her gaze locked on the gun pointed straight at her chest. He held it steadily, and the suppressor on it made it look even more menacing.

He squinted at her. “You don't remember me at all, do you?”

Remember him . . . remember him? She remembered meeting him last week, but she sensed he wasn't talking about that. And he was bigger than she'd realized. Stockier. In the computer lab, he'd looked paunchy, but now she saw that he was solidly built. He wore jeans and work boots and a canvas jacket, despite the heat. What other weapons did he have on him?

“Your phone.” He nodded at it. “Toss it on the workbench.”

She hesitated.

“
Now
.”

She walked over and tossed it onto the table with all
the tools, and suddenly she knew what he was doing. He took another step back from her.

“Now, pick a hammer.” He smiled faintly, and her blood chilled. “Any one you like. You get to choose.”

Her chest squeezed. She glanced around frantically.

“
Move
.”

She stepped forward. On the table was a metal toolbox containing an array of slender hammers that all looked the same. She took one from the case, wrapping her trembling fingers around the handle. There was something dark stuck on the end of it.

“Good choice. That was April's.”

Her gaze jumped to his. Her throat went dry.

“Smash the phone.”

She stared at him.

“
Now!
”

She gave the phone a whack, shattering the screen.

“Again.”

Her stomach clenched as she gave it another solid hit.

“Good girl. Now, put it down and take three steps back.”

Her brain whirled. She had just destroyed her only lifeline. But she had a weapon in her hand now.

“Oooh, you're thinking, aren't you?” His smile disappeared. “Be smart, Delaney. What's faster than a speeding bullet? Not a flying hammer, I promise you. Put it down.”

She did.

Then she backed away, scrounging for a plan. If she could get close enough to kick him or wrestle the gun away—

“Turn around. Hands against the wall.”

She turned and leaned her hands against the rough wooden boards. Through the gaps in the slats, she could see the golden grass of the neighbor's property. How far away was that? She tried to remember the layout—

“Feet apart.”

He stepped closer. He smelled of sweat and motor oil, and bile rose in the back of her throat. The muzzle of the gun caressed her neck, and she inhaled sharply.

“Spread 'em.” His breath was warm against her ear. “Your detective ever tell you to do that?”

She moved her feet apart, and her stomach churned as she stared at her hands against the wood. Where was Reed right now? She should have told him where she was going, but she hadn't. She'd thought about it, but she hadn't wanted to check in with him or anybody.

His hand was in her pocket now, groping her through her jeans. Then it was inside her hoodie, fishing the car keys out.

Think.

He was smart, but she was smarter. She hoped. She just had to get the gun somehow. Or disable him and make a run for it. The neighbors weren't that far, not if she got a head start.

“I'll give you a hint,” he said mockingly. The gun slid down her spine, and she sucked in a breath. “CS three-forty-six. Undergraduate cryptography with Dr. Woodward.”

Laney's mind raced.

“No? Still don't remember me?” The gun pressed into her tailbone. “I read your paper on encryption security and gave you an A you didn't deserve.”

Her mind came up blank. He was Woodward's TA?
It had been a huge weed-out class at eight in the morning. She remembered sitting in a sea of people and struggling to keep her eyes open. But she had absolutely no memory of Paul Doher.

The gun scraped up her back, and her heart gave another lurch.

“You bitches are all the same, lost in your petty little worlds.” He stepped away from her. “Turn around, let's go.”

She slowly turned around, looking for anything she could grab as a weapon. He was too far away for her to try anything, and she had a sinking feeling he knew about her kickboxing.

Of course he did. He knew everything. He'd been watching.

“Now.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Let's go.”

She moved slowly toward the door. He was several steps behind, but she felt the gun aimed at her back like a laser burning through her clothes. As she stepped into the sunlight, she darted a desperate look around. The neighbors were distant, maybe fifty yards. The road was even farther, and there was no traffic. She glanced at the shadows and knew the sun would be setting soon.

“To the house,” he ordered.

She trudged past his truck, still grasping for a plan. Any chance he'd left the keys inside? She cast a longing look at her car as they moved toward the weathered wooden stairs she'd climbed willingly only minutes ago.

A lifetime ago.

She saw the stairs now, the warped wooden boards,
and the screen door with the chipping paint. The house loomed closer and closer.

If she went inside that house, she was never coming out.

Acid churned inside her stomach. Sweat slid down her back, and she could feel his beady blue eyes on her. She climbed a step. Then another. She lifted her foot for the final step and thrust it back, smashing her heel into something hard.

Thwack.

The post beside her splintered as a bullet landed. She ducked and whirled around, barreling past him sprawled on his back, but he quickly rolled to his knees.

Screaming, she sprinted for the nearest fence, but the closest trailer seemed miles away. She could feel him at her heels, getting closer and closer as she ran. And then her yell became a shrill wail as he caught her hoodie and yanked her back.

She fell to the ground, landing hard on her butt. A sharp blow to the back of the head. For a second, she saw stars. Then she was scrambling forward, clawing at the grass, the dirt, screaming and kicking and trying to get away. He was on her, flipping her onto her back, and she thrust her knee up, then smashed the heel of her hand into his chin, sending him rolling sideways. He gasped and sputtered and clutched his groin as she tripped to her feet and rocketed for the fence.

She darted through the trees, the scrub brush, panting and looking frantically for help. The neighboring trailer's windows were dark. No cars. The next-closest building was a double-wide with a pickup parked beside it.

She stumbled over rocks and tree roots as she
plunged through the low brush. She cast a look over her shoulder, but he wasn't behind her now, only trees and bushes. Was he hiding, or had she nailed him hard enough to keep him down?

She tripped to her knees but bounced right back up and kept running for the fence. It was a wire game fence, five or six feet tall. She'd have to scale it, which would give him a clear shot. She changed course and dashed for a section concealed by a cedar tree, stripping her jacket off as she went so it wouldn't snag. She ducked behind the foliage and cast a last look over her shoulder. He still wasn't there, at least not where she could see. She reached for the wire mesh with both hands.

Fire tore up her arms.

CHAPTER 30

Jay scowled at the map on his phone. “It's in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

“Did you know he lived way out here?” Reed asked as he raced down the road.

“I didn't know a damn thing about him. The guy's like office furniture. I never gave him a second thought.”

“Nobody did. Maybe that's his problem.” Reed gripped the wheel, and he thought about Laney. A sour ball of dread formed in his gut. “Call the dispatcher again.”

Jay did. “Hey, it's Wallace.” He listened a moment, then looked at Reed. “Still nothing on Laney's cell phone.”

“Ping it again.”

“Try it again and call me back,” Jay instructed. He hung up with the dispatcher and looked at Reed. “Emergency services has pinged her phone twice now. No GPS signal, which means it's disabled. Either the battery's been removed or it's been destroyed.”

Reed clenched his teeth. Laney was there. He knew it. She'd been intent on talking to Paul about that damn computer, and she'd gone out there to see about it. He floored the pedal.

“Almost there,” Jay said, checking his map again. “I'd say five minutes.”

•   •   •

Laney lay on the ground, dazed. Her teeth hurt. Her arms felt numb. She tried to sit up and fell back, thunking her head on something hard.

Tears burned her eyes.

Get the hell up, Laney.

Her chest tightened. She couldn't breathe.

He's coming.

She forced herself to roll to her side and managed to push to her knees. She blinked down at the yellowed grass with its thin coating of dust.

Electric fence
, her brain registered. She shook her head, hoping to shake off the dizziness. She stared down at her hands in the dirt. Her fingers burned as though she'd grabbed hold of a lightning bolt.

She pushed herself to her feet and belatedly realized that was a bad idea. She ducked low and lurched for the nearest tree. Her legs felt wobbly, and she fell to her knees again as soon as she was behind the relative safety of the branches. She pressed her palm against the rough bark as she gasped for breath.

Her pulse was racing, from fear and exertion and God only knew how many volts of electricity. She listened for any sign of him, but all she could hear was a high-pitched humming noise in her ears.

She gulped down a breath and looked around. Road. She needed the road. But he knew that was what she needed. It was her only way out, and he'd be waiting.

She crouched low and dashed for the next bush. Then the next. Then the next. The sun was sinking, and the long, dark shadows were playing tricks with her
mind. Still she didn't hear him, but she knew he was out there lying in wait.

Something warm trickled down her cheek. She put her hand to it, and it came away red. She'd caught a splinter when the bullet had hit the post just inches from her head.

A cold shudder moved through her, and she dropped to her knees again. She had to stay down. Stay hidden. She looked out over the grass and saw the break in the fence that marked the driveway. And just beyond it the road. Probably sixty yards away, but that was her goal.

She crawled on her hands and knees, staying low and watchful as she inched her way forward and forced herself to think.

Paul Doher. He'd been in her house three years ago. He'd been in her bedroom. He'd had his weight on her and his arm against her throat, and his ski-masked face had invaded her sleep for years now. A wave of nausea gripped her, and she clutched her stomach, afraid she'd throw up.

A faint rustling. She froze.

Cautiously, she looked out over the brush. She saw no one, only a sliver of the black pickup truck through the trees. He was out there, armed and waiting for her.

She flattened closer to the ground and moved forward on her elbows, ignoring the rocks and the sticker burs and the sweat seeping into her eyes.

She wished for a gun. Reed's Glock. Or the smaller one Jordan had recommended. She should have armed herself when she'd had the chance.

She wished for her phone.

She moved steadily, painfully, toward the gap in the fence. She strained to hear, to keep the tears in her eyes from spilling over. She couldn't fall apart. The road was getting closer. She could make it.

The brush grew thick, and she got into a crouch behind the cover of a leafy juniper bush. She could see the road now, the thin band of asphalt through the gap in the fence. But she hadn't seen or heard a single car since she'd been out here.

Snick.

She dropped low and turned around. It was distant. But she'd definitely heard something. Was he in pistol range? She had no clue.

She darted a look at the road again, and suddenly all she could see was that hammer. April's hammer. And the bit of flesh stuck to the end.

Panic spurred her into action. She glanced over her shoulder and made a run for it, sprinting for the road as fast as her legs could move, straining to hear anyone behind her and bracing for the bite of a bullet. She ran and ran until her lungs burned and her muscles screamed. Closer, closer.

In the distance, an engine. A car coming? But no, the noise was coming from the house. She darted a look over her shoulder as the noise grew louder.

Her feet reached the gravel driveway, and she pushed harder, faster, racing for the road. The engine roared behind her, and she let out a hysterical sob. She looked over her shoulder as the black truck swung around the curve. The giant grille zoomed toward her, and she dived out of the way. She tripped to the ground and rolled, then scampered behind a bush, but it was small and flimsy and no match for
a truck if he tried to mow her down. She dashed for the road again, but the truck roared closer. She dived behind another tree as a gray pickup suddenly skidded around a curve and sped straight for the black truck.

Brakes squealed. A deafening crash and crunch of metal. Shouts and curses and slamming doors.

“On the ground, motherfucker! Now, now, now! Hands behind your head!”

Reed's voice. And Jay's.

“Don't fucking move!”

Laney ducked behind a tree. She clutched her hand around the slender trunk, digging her nails into the bark. She closed her eyes.

“Laney!”

She sucked in air, but her lungs wouldn't fill. She couldn't make her voice work.

“Laney!”

I'm here.

“Her car's here,” Reed said. “She's here somewhere.”

“I'll check inside.”

“I'm here,” she said aloud, dragging herself to her feet. “Reed, I'm here!”

Paul was facedown in the middle of the road, hands cuffed behind his back. Reed and Jay were on either side of him with their guns pointed at him.

Reed's gaze locked with hers, and the combination of pain and relief in his eyes made Laney's chest hurt.

“You're bleeding,” he said tightly, keeping his gun pointed.

“I'm okay.” She wanted to throw her arms around him, but the look in his eyes stopped her.

“Stay back!” he barked, then grabbed Paul by the
arm and hauled him up. He spun him around and slammed him against the truck. “You're under arrest.”

•   •   •

The sirens were faint at first but soon became deafening. Two police cars showed up, and within minutes she was sitting in the back of one of them with a first-aid kit in her lap.

Reed stood beside his pickup talking on the phone. The front bumper of his truck was smashed in. The front of Paul's truck looked like an accordion.

Laney dabbed her fingers with an antiseptic wipe. She had new cuts and scrapes to add to the ones from last night, and her knee was starting to swell.

She glanced across the driveway at the other police car. The evening sun shone through it, and Paul's head was a dark silhouette in the backseat. Laney shuddered and turned away, focusing on the house. Jay and a uniformed officer had disappeared inside to secure the premises.

Reed strode over, his expression grim.

“How's the cheek?” He crouched in front of her and gently tipped her chin up.

“I'd forgotten about it. It's probably just a splinter.” She rested her hands on her knees because she didn't want him to see that they were trembling. “What happens now?”

“CSI van should be here in a minute. Then we get the show on the road, start taking this place apart.”

She nodded at the other police car, where Paul sat with a pair of uniforms standing guard. “What's the holdup?”

Reed's jaw tightened. “There's some question about where to put him.”

“What do you mean? Put him in jail.”

“We've got to decide where. Hall wants him at one of the substations because the media's still all over us downtown.”

“Media?”

He stared at her a moment. “I forgot you hadn't heard. We arrested Phelps. They just had a press conference to announce it.”

Laney blinked up at him. They'd arrested
Ian
? She wanted to say something, but her brain couldn't find the words. She felt the fear inside her quickly becoming fury as her gaze settled on the other car again.

Reed stood up and shifted, blocking her view. Maybe he thought just the sight of Paul was too much for her to handle. “Laney.”

She looked down. She curled her fingers around her knees and gripped them.

“Laney, honey.”

She forced herself to look at him, and he squeezed her shoulder.

“He's going away. I promise you.”

“Yo, Reed.”

They glanced over to see Jay standing on the porch.

“Need you in here, man. You won't believe this computer setup.”

Laney started to stand, but Reed put his hand on her shoulder.

“You should stay out here.”

“Like hell.”

He planted his hands on his hips and looked at her,
and she knew he hated everything about her being here right now, but he would just have to deal. He turned toward the house, and she followed him. They mounted the creaky stairs and stepped through the door.

The inside smelled oddly of Lysol. Laney glanced around. The only seating in the living room was a brown recliner opposite a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. In front of the chair was a glass coffee table with three magazines lined up in a neat stair-step pattern in the upper right corner.

Laney walked through the room, getting a glimpse into a kitchen with mustard-yellow counters. She didn't see so much as a speck of dust on any of the surfaces as Jay led them down a narrow hallway. She expected Jay to turn into a room on the right, but he kept going and stopped where the hallway dead-ended into a built-in bookcase.

He glanced over his shoulder at Reed. “Check this out.” With a gloved hand, he pressed the top of the cabinet. It rotated inward.

Jay ducked through a low doorway, and Reed followed, then Laney. She found herself in a stuffy little room, maybe eight by eight. Her attention went to the three desks lining the walls and the black swivel chair surrounded by six big computer screens. The room was dark and sour-smelling and hot as a sauna with all the machinery.

All six screens displayed the same screen saver, cascading computer code.

“Like mine,” she murmured.

“What's that?” Reed turned around.

“His screen saver. It's from
The Matrix
.” She sur
veyed the setup, then looked at Jay. “You have any more of those gloves?”

He glanced at Reed for approval before digging a pair from his pocket and handing them over.

She nudged the men aside and pulled the gloves on. Then she dragged the chair back. No way in hell was she sitting in the filthy thing. “Roll that into the hall, will you?”

The three desks were arranged in a
U
shape. The center one had a keyboard alongside a wireless mouse. She glanced under the desk. Several high-capacity servers sat beneath it, and she recognized the brand, a favorite with porn collectors.

Laney's hand hovered over the mouse for a moment. She had no password cracker here and no idea what sort of letter-number combination Paul might use. She tapped the mouse, and the screen came to life.

It was a basic desktop with a solid black background.

“You sure you should be touching that?” Jay asked.

She didn't reply as she slid the mouse to the right and the neighboring screen came to life. She slid it farther and got an image on the third screen.

“No password?” Jay looked at her.

“Maybe he thinks he's safe here in his secret little media room.”

Reed leaned forward. “What is that?”

“Surveillance footage,” she said.

Both monitors showed images of interior rooms. Laney noted the colors and fabrics and the clothing strewn about.

“Women's bedrooms,” she said. “These are his targets.”

“No fucking way,” Jay muttered.

“Way.” Laney leaned in for a closer look, then glanced back at Reed.