Faces of Evil [2] Impulse (21 page)

He’d been gone for what felt like hours.

The injection he’d given her before he left had knocked her out almost immediately. Since she’d come around it felt like a long time before he returned. The heat was getting to her. She needed water. And her body ached. Her face hurt but she had no energy to waste suffering the pain so she ignored it.

Something plunked, like bags of potatoes hitting the floor.

She jerked at the sound.

Don’t move
.

The more time she had before he realized she was awake the better.

She’d used his absence to search around the dark space for as far as her chain would allow for anything new he might have brought in and forgotten about.

Thankfully she hadn’t stumbled over the other woman’s body. But he’d said she was still alive. Lori had no idea what he had done with her. She wasn’t within Lori’s reach and she had called out to her several times with no response.

She tried to remember what she’d read about his victims. Was there a common element about where the bodies were discovered?

Where would they find
her
body?

A shiver stole over Lori’s skin.

She’d thought it was over when he put his hand over her face. She’d tried to break free of his hold but all she had done was use up the oxygen in her lungs even faster. When she’d roused after that she had been startled that she was still alive, lying here on her stomach, her cheek pressed to this filthy floor.

Alive was good. Gave her a little more time to figure a way out.

He’d paced the warehouse talking to himself again before he’d injected her.

Even had she not known what she did about his past crimes, she knew for sure by watching and listening to him that he was bat shit crazy.

How the hell did a guy that nuts continue committing the perfect murders, leaving behind no trace of evidence?

Didn’t seem reasonable.

If Jess were here she would know what to make of his erratic behavior.

And Harper. Tears welled in Lori’s eyes as that last time they’d made love filtered through her fragmented thoughts. He’d shown her the difference between making love and having sex. She wondered if he was taking care of her mother and her sister. They would need him. Lori felt confident that he wouldn’t let them down.

She licked at her sore lip. Though she didn’t have a mirror, she was pretty sure she had a black eye to go with the busted lip. More of those shuffling noises drew her attention to the side of the warehouse closest to the crates stacked along the wall.

She couldn’t be sure how long he’d been gone since he’d sedated her. With no windows, she’d pretty much lost any concept of the time. He’d forced her to drink cans of Ensure. At first she hadn’t wanted to cooperate but then she’d realized that the nutrient drink would keep her from growing too weak to fight.

What was he doing? How did he see to do anything in the dark? And why hadn’t he killed her yet? Not that she wanted to die. . . but she knew his MO.

A low moan filled the darkness.

Lori’s heart started to hammer. She held her breath. Listened.

More of the soft moaning.

She wanted to say something. To get up and find out what was happening. But then he would know she was awake and the element of surprise would be lost.

What was that sound? The woman? Was she still here after all?

Another sound grated against her senses.

Grinding?

No. . . sawing.

It went on and on and on.

The moaning grew louder. Spears was muttering to himself again.

Lori tried to make sense of his words. Something hit the floor next to her. She jumped. Reminded herself to stay still. She didn’t dare reach out to touch whatever had hit the floor.

That flop of something soft hitting the concrete echoed again. The moaning grew louder, more urgent and that other sound. . . the sawing or grinding filled the darkness, intensifying and somehow growing more rhythmic.

She put her hands over her ears and tried to block the noises. Her mind kept putting pictures with the sounds and she didn’t want to see.

The tang of blood weighted the humid air.

God, make it stop!

“Stupid bitch.”

Lori jerked at the words but he wasn’t near her. . . he was still on the other side of the room. He was moving around.

Light filled the space, the old fluorescent tubes flickering with the sudden surge of electricity.

She blinked to focus.

A scream echoed around her.

Lori sucked in a breath. Her brain ranted at her not to scream again.

Had she been the one screaming?

She wasn’t sure.

Her attention was fastened on the woman lying on the floor by the crates.

She was naked like before. Duct tape sealed her mouth. . . blood was everywhere. Her body convulsed and jerked like a fish tossed onto the bank. Her dark hair stuck this way and that where it had come loose from the pins she’d used to bundle it against the back of her head. Her feet. . . lay on the floor. . . oh God. . . they were no longer attached to her legs. The woman shuddered and quivered. . . her hands were missing, too.

No. . . Lori shook her head. This had to be a bad dream.

Unable to take her eyes off the woman’s juddering body. . . Lori felt the warmth of urine spread beneath her pelvis. Bile burned her throat.

Not the woman from before. This was a different woman. . . another victim.

Oh God. . .
no
.

Spears walked over to the woman, kicked a foot across the concrete. “You shouldn’t have tried to run away. You made me angry and look what happened. This is your fault.”

His hands were bloody. . . something hung from his right one.

A hacksaw?

No!

He turned to Lori.

She froze.

She hadn’t said that out loud, had she? Blood was splattered over his shirt and the front of his jeans. Bright red drops slid down his lean jaw as he glared at Lori.

“You see what she made me do?” He shook his head then held up the saw. “Bone saw. I borrowed it.” He stared at the bloody saw. “He won’t mind.”

He tossed the saw aside and walked closer to the woman. She flopped around as if she were trying to get away. Blood gushed with each movement. . . or maybe it was the beating of her heart.

Agony swelled inside Lori. Tears spilled from her eyes.
Please, someone, help us
. Someone had to come soon or it would be too late.

Unless Lori sucked it up and did more than just lay here. Rage flooded her trembling body. She flattened her hands on the concrete and braced to propel herself upward.

Spears turned to her.

Lori froze.

He swaggered over to where she lay and crouched down. “Do you know what you call a fed with no hands and no feet?”

Lori held very still. She kept her gaze away from his.
Sick mother fucker
.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, detective!”

Lori shifted her attention to him. The urge to tear off his head stormed inside her.

“Do you know what you call a fed with no hands and no feet?”

“No.” Her body shook with the effort of lying still.

He smiled. “Done.” He glanced at the woman. “See, she’s hardly moving now. Barely breathing. No one can save her now.” He laughed. “Even if a skilled surgeon had his hands on her right this second, the blood loss and shock would be too much.”

Lori positioned her feet first, toes down, heels up. While he stared, mesmerized by the dying woman, she eased her hands into place flat on the floor beneath her shoulders.

He turned to her. “I think this might finally get Jess’s attention.” He leaned a little closer. “I could have taken her sister or that sweet little niece of hers, but I didn’t. I knew that would make her too emotional. I don’t want that kind of emotion getting in the way.” He laughed. “Just the fear. Let her stew over what I could have done. Who’s the man now?” He laughed again. “I love it.”

He glanced back at the woman. “Looks like she’s down for the count.”

Lori sprang at him.

The chain rattled.

She knocked him over.

He tried to get a grip on her neck. She grabbed him by the hair and banged his head against the floor. He manacled her arms.

She rolled away from him, scooted away on her belly. Ignored the blood. Weapon! She needed a weapon. The saw was in her peripheral vision, she reached out for it.

He was climbing on top of her.

Reach! Lori! Get it!

Her fingers wrapped around the bloody handle.

He flipped her over.

She swung the saw, blade side out, aiming for his neck. He caught her by the forearm, stopping the blow.

“Women never learn,” he mocked. “Stupid bitches.”

He ripped the saw out of her hand and threw it across the room.

She clawed at his face with her free hand. He banged her upper body against the concrete over and over. Then he let go.

Before Lori could shake off the spinning in her head, he was off her and walking away.

She rolled weakly onto her stomach and tried to push up on all fours.

Her hands slipped and she went down.

Blood was everywhere. Her stomach heaved, sending more bitter bile into her throat. She strained upward, her arms shaking as she got onto all fours.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Before she could react, he stuck something to her back.

Fire rushed through her body.

Taser
.

She collapsed to the floor, her body jerking from the jolt of electricity.

He leaned down and glared at her. “I know what you need, Lori Doodle. I almost forgot this part. You’re gonna love it.”

He walked away.

Lori tried to move. Couldn’t. She couldn’t scream. . . not that it mattered. No one would hear her.

Seconds or minutes passed, she wasn’t sure which. The jerking and quivering slowed but still her limbs would not obey her brain’s commands.

He was coming back.

She tried to turn her head. . . couldn’t yet.

A squeaking sound accompanied his steps. Something rolled up next to her head. She moved her eyes as far to the right as possible to see.

A big bucket on wheels.

Mop bucket
. Industrial size.

He grabbed her by the hair and jerked her up to her knees. Her arms wouldn’t work. . . wouldn’t fight him.

“Take a deep breath, Lori Doodle.”

Terror flooded her heart.

Face first, he shoved her head into the bucket of water.

15

Dunbrooke Dr., 10:00 p.m.

Dan scrubbed the towel over his body, soaking up the water on his skin.

The hot shower had felt damned good against his tense muscles. But nothing he did relieved the helpless feeling that they were getting nowhere on this investigation.

Detective Wells had been missing since 7:30 Monday morning. Two more women had gone missing in the thirty-eight hours since. This bastard was moving at warp speed. Though Belinda Howard had survived the encounter and was improving, there had been no word about Wells. No threats, nothing. The same for Agent Miller.

Jess was pretending to be strong but Dan sensed she was falling apart inside. Eric Spears had turned himself in before noon today, about the same time Agent Miller had gone missing. Abducted by a man who looked like Spears and who appeared to be manipulating the same sort of game used by the Player, who Jess remained convinced was, in fact, Spears – but the Bureau remained equally convinced he was not. The only good to come of this day was the confirmation that Lily and her family had made it safely to Pensacola.

Dan rubbed his hair until it was dry enough, then he dragged on a tee-shirt and jeans. Unless there was a Christmas gift around here some place he’d forgotten, he didn’t own a pair of pajamas and walking around the house in his boxers with Jess here was out of the question. More for his peace of mind than for any awkwardness she might feel.

Knowing her, she would make a face and toss some snarky comment at him. She was far too distracted by this puzzling and emotionally-wrenching case to care what he walked around in, he suspected.

Dan picked up his clothes and damp towel and headed for the mudroom. Jess had taken a shower already and changed into jeans and a tee. He liked that more comfortable side of her though he doubted she let anyone see her like that often. Nearly an hour after her own shower, she was right where he’d left her. At the dining room table pouring over her case file on the Player. Comparing notes with what little they had in this one, just like she’d done last night. And rubbing at that damned ring, turning it round and round.

After he’d tossed the laundry into the hamper he grabbed two beers from the fridge and joined her. Pepsi wouldn’t do the trick tonight and he didn’t have any wine chilled.

He sat a beer in front of her. “It might help you relax.”

She glanced up, seeming surprised that he had entered the room. “Do I look like I want to relax? I’m missing something here and I have to find it.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He couldn’t resist. She actually looked soft and tousled and way too vulnerable. She’d pinned her hair haphazardly atop her head. Her glasses were a little smudged and there was a tiny speck of chocolate on that lush bottom lip of hers. She carried a stash of M&Ms and chocolate mints in her bag.

He supposed it was true. Women turned to chocolate far more often than alcohol when stressed.

Her expression darkened. “Why are you smiling? There is absolutely nothing to smile about.”

“Lily and her family made it to Pensacola safely. Belinda Howard is greatly improved. Both are under police protection. We haven’t won this war but we haven’t lost either.” Damn. He needed this moment of optimism. He needed to believe Wells and Miller would be found alive. “Isn’t that something to smile about?”

Jess laid her pencil down. “Detective Wells has been missing for nearly forty hours. The chances she will be found alive considering the kind of twisted member of the species who took her, are about zero – particularly since I don’t know who the hell he is. He’s apparently pissed at me for giving him that shout-out and we have no idea how that will play into his next move. We have no leads. . . we can do nothing but react to whatever he does next. There is nothing to smile about.”