Eleven (43 page)

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Amanda smiled at herself in the rearview mirror and reapplied lipstick. The feds were not a match for her intelligence and planning.

She had no doubt they would be looking for her car at this point. She saw the message that left the agent’s phone and had considered sending a follow-up one, but thought better of it. All they really knew was they were with her, somewhere.

The less communication, the lower the risk of leading them to her. And it was hard to factor in the ripples caused by change. Everything had a timetable and had to go according to plan. As it was the schedule had been accelerated.

She had exchanged her Kia for a co-worker’s Ford Taurus Wagon. The woman was dedicated to the outworking of good so she didn’t think anything of it when Amanda told her that she had car trouble and needed to reach her sick aunt. She had used that excuse to get some time off work last week and people poured in the sympathy speeches. People were so easily manipulated.

Amanda reached into her bag on the passenger seat and pulled out the nine mil. She would do what needed doing.

My breathing slowly came under control, but periodic heart palpitations kept reminding me of the need to get out of the space as soon as possible.

“Brandon?” Paige hit the top of the casket, and I assumed with her head because she was bound. “Brandon?”

“I’m here.” Another heart flutter. My eyes were heavy. “I keep going in and out.”

“You said you know who her target is.”

“Yes.” My eyes shut, and I struggled to keep consciousness.

“Brandon?”

“Do you—”

“Brandon?”

“Cell phone?”

“No. And my gun is gone.”

“We need to call Jack.” Somewhere in the back of mind I knew I had the solution, the way to communicate to the outside world, but my thoughts were unfocused and scattered. My clothes were drenched with sweat.

“Brandon?”

My eyes shut again. My throat was dry. I couldn’t speak.

The phone on the conference table rang again. The officer who called said, “We found her car in the college parking lot.”

“Yet you’re certain she’s not there?” Chief Brennan asked the question.

“She definitely signed out. The receptionist even confirmed she left about thirty minutes ago.”

“She switched out her car with someone else’s,” Zachery said.

“Interview everyone at the college, and find out if anyone lent their car to her.”

“There’s over two hundred faculty members.”

“We don’t want to hear excuses, officer. Do the job as assigned,” Chief Brennan said.

“Yes, boss.”

Paige moved, trying to struggle herself free of the constraints. Her shoulders ached along with her neck and back. Brandon hadn’t responded to her calls for him, and she worried if he was going to be okay. She had to find some way to get him out of there. First she needed free of the ropes.

They were bound tight on her wrists. The fibers bit into her flesh. She moved across the floor, like a worm, legs in, torso crunched forward, legs out, torso straightened. She headed to the alcove at the other side of the room hoping to find something in there to cut the ropes.

The distance across was at least ten to fifteen feet, possibly as much as twenty. But if she kept focused, she had no doubt she’d reach the room.

“Brandon?” She called out to him one more time, careful not to speak too loud. She didn’t know where the woman had gone, but faintly remembered hearing a car engine and feeling its vibrations through the ground.

No sound came from the coffin. She moved faster toward the alcove, but once she cleared the doorway, she wished she had stayed where she was. Her heart beat fast from just the action to get here. Now her heart sped up for another reason.

Paige’s eyes fixed on the empty circular burial site.

Amanda would be back and victim number eleven would be put to rest there. Brandon didn’t think it was them. Paige wasn’t willing to bet on anything right now.

There was a doorway on the side of the room. It had a keyhole. Paige moved toward it. If they weren’t Amanda’s intended victims, was number eleven behind the door?

Her head turned to the left. She heard it first, then felt the vibration. A car pulled in near the church. She had to get back to where she woke up.

She inch-wormed across the dirt floor, making faster progress back then she had on the way there. The car’s engine was cut. She had seconds to reach where she was before.

She sucked back on the pain that shot through her back and neck. She paused as she heard the key go into the padlock on the exterior basement door. She had seconds. She wasn’t going to make it.

She estimated the length of space to go—about five feet. There was no way she would make it by inching forward. She pulled her legs into her hips and fought to find the balance and strength it would require.

Footsteps were on the stairs.

The option was do this or die. Paige coached herself, and she found the strength to hoist upward to her feet. She hopped along the dirt floor closing the distance to where she had been when Amanda left.

The handle turned on the door.

Paige dropped and rolled to her side where she had rested before. She heard the door open and shut.

Jack stood from the conference table. “We can’t just sit here waiting on all of this to play out.”

“What do you want us to do?” Sergeant Haynes asked.

“Get us a car. We’re going out to the college. Send another car to Amanda’s house in case she does return, and we’ll go pick up the Knowles kid again, Reggie. Maybe he knows more than he told us.”

“Certainly.”

Jack’s cell rang, and he answered to Nadia.

“Two things. One quick update: some fingerprints lifted from the photo mailed to the prison came back to Royster, so no real surprise there, but the other news is huge. The video from The Pawnshop has been analyzed, and it’s still not perfect, but it’s definitely Amanda Knowles who bought the surveillance equipment.”

My eyes flickered open. My breathing was weak, and my pulse faint, but for some reason my thinking seemed clearer. The air inside of the casket was stifling, and I’d quickly be running out of oxygen. I must have been in here at least an hour, maybe over that. All I knew was the oxygen was depleting, and I didn’t have much time left. With the thought my heart palpitated. I had to coax it back into an equal rhythm. I was about to call out for Paige when I heard Amanda’s voice.

“Sleeping princess is awake.”

Paige screamed. My instant reaction was to sit up, and I bumped my head on the coffin.

Amanda didn’t say anything for a few seconds. I sensed she heard me. She directed Paige, “To your feet!”

“Please don’t! Let go! I’m a federal agent!”

“You’re in my territory now.”

Paige yelled out, “There’s another burial site ready—”

I heard the slap and felt the vibration. Someone had dropped to the floor. As I shifted, I felt the bulge in my back pocket.

“Get up!” Amanda yelled at Paige.

“She has a gun!”

I knew Paige yelled these things for me.

“You get around. You didn’t think I’d see your marks on the dirt floor?” A brief pause. “It seems you even visited your friend in the coffin.”

Amanda reveled in the psychological mind games with her victims. Just like Bingham she kept them alive, tortured, and taunted them with the possibility of hope and when the spark extinguished took their lives. Her waiting to kill us would be her demise because the longer she kept me alive, the less chance she had of walking out of here.