He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not (38 page)

A
manda scrambled to her knees and lunged toward the chain.

“You’re ruining everything,” Tom screeched. “Why do you always ruin everything? Why won’t you ever let me help you?”

What was he saying? It made no sense. She grabbed the chain and whirled around.

He stood in front of her, hands on his hips, his face a bright red. “Carrying you is going to slow me down. If you die, you have only yourself to blame.”

He started toward her.

Amanda swung the chain, throwing the weight of her body behind the swing. His eyes widened in surprise. He jerked to the side. Not fast enough. The chain struck his temple. He dropped like a rock.

“Police!” a voice yelled outside.

The door burst open and a man ran inside, half-crouched, both hands wrapped around the butt of a pistol. The sun was behind him so Amanda couldn’t tell at first who he was. When he got closer, he straightened, and relief swept through Amanda as she finally saw his face.

“Amanda?” He looked down at the man on the floor, then back at her, his brow raised in surprise. “Thank God I found you. Are you okay?”

The chain dropped from her fingers, plinking across the floor. Her body started shaking so hard her teeth chattered. “I’m f . . . fine. I’ve never been so g . . . glad to see anyone. How did you find me?”

Riley smiled and holstered his gun.

Chapter Twenty-One

T
ractor-trailers roared past the rest stop, stirring the hot, humid air, but bringing little relief from the smothering heat. Pierce flipped his phone shut and swore.

Logan raised a brow, waiting.

“Riley’s alibi for Carolyn O’Donnell’s murder is bullshit. He paid another man to go to the conference, a man who looked like him. With Riley missing, I had one of the agents in Alabama go back and pull surveillance tapes from the hotel. They used facial recognition software with Riley’s police badge picture and proved the man at the conference wasn’t him. I’m sorry, Logan. You were right all along. I should have pushed harder when you first suspected him.”

Logan spread a map out onto the hood of his car and smoothed it down. “We don’t have time for recriminations. Show me where your men have searched.”

Pierce leaned forward and pointed to a spot on the map. “We’ve searched the entire area near the boxcar where O’Donnell was killed. Some of my guys are on their way to Black Lake in case you and I missed any cabins.”

“We didn’t.” Logan wished to God they had, but he knew there weren’t any more cabins at the lake.

Pierce pointed to another circle on the map. “The complex Bennett lived in—did your team search every apartment? Every storage closet? The club house?”

“Every inch.” Logan swallowed hard. “Even the storm drains.”

Pierce tossed his pen on the hood of the car. “Still no sign of Riley. His house is empty. His car isn’t in his garage.”

Logan slammed his fist on the hood of the car, leaving a dent. “Think, damn it. Let’s go back to basics. Start with the timeline.” He grabbed the pen and circled the exit off I–10 where Amanda and Karen were attacked. “The FBI agent heard the commotion outside the condo. He ran outside too late to help, but he immediately called for roadblocks. They were placed here,” he drew a line across the interstate, “and here.” He drew another line on the highway in the other direction. “Roadblocks also went up around Shadow Falls—here, here, and here.”

“Don’t forget the county highway, north of town.”

Logan marked that too. “Assuming he wouldn’t speed so he wouldn’t draw attention, we can calculate a relative area he could have covered before the smaller roadblocks were set up. From the condo, he had to take this road.” He pointed to the map again. “There’s no other option.”

“We searched that area.”

“He must have driven straight through. Based on when we got our smaller roadblocks set up, I figure he had two options when he got near town. He either drove right down Main Street or he took this route.”

Pierce shook his head. “No way would he go down Main Street in front of the police station.” He watched Logan draw a line down the alternate route.

Logan paused, considering the various options. There weren’t many. He drew the line down several side roads, but none of them felt right. Taking the straightest route, he traced the line further south to the nearest town. His pulse started pounding in his ears when he saw the name of the town.

Pierce’s face paled. “Are you kidding me?”

Logan grabbed the map and ran to the driver’s side of the car while Pierce ran to the other side. Pierce barely had his door shut before Logan stomped the gas, fishtailing out of the rest stop onto the highway amidst a hail of honking horns, as cars swerved to avoid him.

Pierce grabbed his phone and called the station. “Nelson, it’s Pierce,” he yelled. “Send backup. We know where Amanda Stockton’s being held. Summerville.”

A
hot breeze blew through the pines, swishing the needles against each other as if the trees were whispering secrets. In spite of the heat, Amanda felt chilled as she rubbed her arms where her t-shirt left them bare. She stood in the clearing outside the cabin, not exactly sure where she was. All she saw were trees, Riley’s car, and the cabin. Riley had sent her outside while he checked on Tom Bennett, who was lying on the floor after she’d hit him with the chain.

What was taking Riley so long? Her breath left her in a relieved rush when he finally stepped out of the cabin and strode toward her. That relief was short-lived when she saw the expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. A sinking feeling went through her stomach. “Did he get away?”

He raked his hand through his hair. “Don’t worry, Amanda. He won’t hurt you again. He won’t hurt anyone else ever again.” He pressed his hand on the small of her back and urged her toward his car. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What do you mean . . . he won’t hurt anyone else?”

He grimaced. “How hard did you hit him with that chain?”

She stumbled to a stop. “Are you saying he’s . . . that I . . . killed him?”

“It was self-defense. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” He leaned down and opened the car door for her. “Come on.”

She slipped inside the car, her brow wrinkling in confusion. She’d knocked him down, yes, but his eyes were still open. He’d looked stunned, but he was breathing, conscious—wasn’t he?

Riley stood in the open passenger doorway.

“I don’t understand any of this,” Amanda said. “Who was he? How did you find me?”

“His name is Tom Bennett. He works at the police garage. I had a hunch, tracked him down to this place and was lucky enough to find you. How badly are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”

“What? No, I’m okay. My hands are cut up, from the chain.” She shuddered at the memory. Tom Bennett, charging toward her, shoving her. She tried to envision him with a hood, holding a rose above her, but the picture wouldn’t gel in her mind. She tried to imagine him holding the knife in his left hand like she remembered, but he’d held the handcuff key in his right hand, hadn’t he? And he didn’t seem tall enough to be the hooded stranger.

She stared at her bloody hands, working through the questions in her mind. “I just can’t picture him as the man who attacked Dana and me.”

Riley gave her an odd look before closing the car door. As he walked around the front of the car, Amanda stilled, watching him. She tried again to picture Bennett with a hood covering his head, but suddenly that image turned into Riley. She looked at his hands, pictured him holding a rose, a knife. A horrible thought, an impossible thought, went through her mind. Hadn’t she circled his name on the suspect list she’d created? Yes, but only because he matched the basic description. She’d never seriously considered him as a suspect, had she? She inched her right hand behind her to find the door handle even as she told herself she was crazy.

Riley slid inside next to her and started the engine, flipped the air on.

Music moaned out of the speakers from a CD, low, mournful notes, the same notes that Logan had played on his stereo early this morning.

The same music her attacker had hummed.

Riley’s eyes widened. He punched the power button, turning off the CD. His gaze shot to hers, and she knew she was staring into the eyes of the man who’d attacked her all those years ago.

For a moment they both froze, staring at each other. The knowledge of who he was, what he had done, and—oh, God—what he
would
do, hung between them.

He lunged as she flung open the door. His fingernails scraped across her skin, gouging her arm. She fell to the ground, rolled away from the car. Scrambling to her feet, she took off running toward the trees.

E
ven before Logan pressed his fingers against the side of Bennett’s neck to check for a pulse, he knew Bennett was dead. His skin was still warm, but not as warm as it should be. The side of his head was bloody, but that wasn’t what had killed him. “His neck is broken.”

“What the hell happened here?” Pierce picked up the chain lying on the floor, attached to a metal hook.

Logan took the chain and held it up so the light from the cabin’s window shined on the links. “There’s a long, brown hair.”

“Amanda’s?”

“Count on it.” Logan dropped the chain and rushed outside, studying the ground, looking for a trail to tell him where Riley had taken her. His car sat abandoned a hundred yards away, the passenger door flung open. The engine was running when he and Pierce had arrived. Pierce had turned it off and grabbed the keys to ensure Riley couldn’t get away if he managed to get back to his car before they found him.

They’d wasted precious minutes going into the cabin, but they had to be sure Amanda wasn’t inside. Logan crossed to the car and tried to interpret what he saw in the dirt. He crouched down, mentally sorting through the footprints, piecing together what had happened.

“I’m not sure where Bennett fits into this, but I think Riley must have made Amanda think he was here to help her. She got into the car with him. Then something tipped her off and she jumped out of the car, fell.” He walked around the door, picked up the trail again. “She got away from him and ran toward those trees. Riley ran after her.”

They jogged the fifty feet to the line of pine trees. Logan tried to find the trail again. “There are too many pine needles, not enough dirt. I can’t tell which way they went from here. There are two paths here.”

“The brush is thick,” Pierce said. “If either of them went off the path we should see some broken branches, maybe some torn clothing.”

“Let’s go.” Logan motioned for Pierce to take the path on the right, while he took the one on the left.

“W
hat have you done?” Amanda cried out.

Pierce had burst into the clearing with his gun raised, apparently surprised the path ended so abruptly. That split second of indecision may have cost him his life. Riley had brought down his own gun on the side of Pierce’s skull, dropping him to the ground.

Now he lay unmoving, and Amanda wasn’t sure if he was even breathing. She ran toward him, but Riley’s arm snaked around her waist and he yanked her against him. She twisted and tried to pull away, but he slapped her across the face, slamming her head back.

She held a hand to her throbbing cheek, blinking back the tears that had sprung to her eyes. Her heart ached for the man she’d known as Riley—and his boyish charm—because the man with her now wasn’t the Riley she’d known. “Why are you doing this, Riley? I don’t understand.”

He reached a hand up toward her face and she shrank back from his touch. His eyes filled with regret. “If I hadn’t left that damn CD in my car . . . ah, well. It was just a matter of time. This wasn’t how I’d planned to punish you, but as it turns out, this will take any suspicion off me. After I punish you, and eliminate Pierce and Logan, everyone will think my brother is responsible. I’ll be a hero.”

“Your brother? But, who . . . Tom Bennett is your brother? I don’t understand. He attacked Karen. He abducted me.”

“Tom knew you’d found me again. But Tom is . . . was . . . weak. He never understood. He thought he could protect you by taking you away. He didn’t want me to know where you were, but, of course, as soon as I heard you’d been taken, I knew it was Tom, and I knew he’d come back here. We grew up here.” He shook his head. “We argued about you several times. I tried to explain, tried to tell him you had to be punished or we’d never find peace.” He tapped the side of his head. “Tom was always a little off. He never understood. He didn’t believe me when I told him you’d come back so soon.”