R. E. Bradshaw - Rainey Nights (7 page)

Rainey saw the door to the education center begin to open. It creaked just enough to draw Dalton’s attention. He turned quickly and fired, believing it to be Danny coming out of the church. Pastor Morrell hit the ground, crawling for safety. Dalton wheeled his arm back around and fired at Rainey. She hit the ground, too. The round hit the truck bed, where she had been standing. Instantly she sighted her gun on one of Dalton’s legs and fired. At the same time, she heard Danny’s weapon go off in front of the truck. Dalton crumpled, still holding on to Knox, but he lost his grip on her. She elbowed him in the ribs, rolled over, and jumped to her feet.

Knox kicked the pistol from Dalton’s hand, the adrenaline coursing through her veins causing her to scream, “Motherfucker!”

Rainey scrambled to her feet and ran around the truck. Danny appeared from in front of the truck. He had evidently been watching the whole time, waiting for a shot. Neither Dalton nor Rainey knew he was there.

“Everybody okay?” Danny asked.

Rainey kept her weapon on Dalton who was writhing on the ground, moaning in pain. “I’m fine. You okay, Knox?” Rainey asked the freaked out deputy.

“God dammit!” Knox was pissed. “I can’t believe I let him grab me. Fuck!”

Rainey smiled. “You’re all right. Just breathe. Pick up your weapon.”

Dalton moaned louder. Rainey could see he was shot twice. Her bullet shattered his lower leg. Danny got him in the butt. Neither wound was life threatening. Anyone who says they don’t feel fear when confronted with a weapon is a liar. Through training, Rainey learned to channel that primal instinct into hyper alertness in order to reduce or stop the threat. Now that the danger had passed, her fear turned to anger. Rainey went over to Dalton and stepped on his injured leg.

“How’s that feel, asshole? You like pain don’t you? Isn’t that what gets you off?”

“Get off me bitch. I’ll kill you.”

“I doubt it,” Rainey said. “You have a date with a needle Mr. Chambers. Look up at the sky. The next time you see it will be through razor wire.”

Rainey reached down, rolled him on to his stomach, slapping a pair of handcuffs on his wrists. “You’re going to prison Mr. Chambers. You just shot at a federal agent.”

Danny started reciting the Miranda Rights. “To start with, Dalton Chambers, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of a federal officer. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of…”

“I know my fucking rights.”

Danny continued the recitation of the rights, ignoring Dalton’s outburst.

Dalton kicked at Rainey with his uninjured leg. “I’m going to kill you, bitch. I’ll hunt you down and kill you.”

Rainey stepped back. She looked over at Knox and smiled mischievously. “Hey, Knox. You want to help me hogtie this uncooperative prisoner?”

Knox finally regained her composure and smiled back. “Yes, ma’am. It would be my pleasure.”

June 25, fourteen months later.

Wise County, Virginia

A transparent blue mist blanketed the mountain range passing beneath the helicopter. The only sound Rainey could hear was the muffled plop-plop of the blades through the air. No one spoke on the headsets, as the sleek black chopper cut through the haze that gave this mountain range its name. They were closing in on the target destination. Surrounded by ridges of thick, green forest that opened onto multicolored fields of wild flowers, the beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains was lost on the muted passengers. From behind dark sunglasses, Rainey glanced down at the fence and razor wire sparkling in the morning sun. She was making her final “descent into hell,” as she had begun to call this part of the trip.

A few minutes later, a tall, very large, prison guard motioned for them to follow. “Right this way, agents,” he said, while sliding a key card through a slot and then punching a code into a control pad on a heavily armored door. A loud “thunk” signaled the release of the bolt and the door slid open.

Danny and Rainey entered the front gate of Red Onion State Prison, a super maximum-security facility housing the worst criminals the state of Virginia had to offer. From that moment on, they were never alone within the confines of the prison. A guard escorted them to the main intake area where they presented their identification to another blue clad guard behind the glass. It was a formality that seemed unnecessary since they had been there a dozen times in six months. Rainey and Danny removed their weapons and slid them into the security drawer, where they were pulled back out of sight. Rainey took her hair down from the ponytail she was wearing and shook it free, to fall across her shoulders. This was part of the game she had to play here. The guard behind the glass smiled at Rainey and motioned them to step through the opening gate, while he raised a phone receiver to his ear. The guard spoke into the phone and more locks clanged open. Two more guards appeared to escort them through the maze of halls and security checks of “The Onion.”

Heavy steel doors ground opened, metal on metal screeching as they moved. The bolts banged shut instantly behind them, as they passed. Loudspeakers barked orders and reverberated off the prison’s concrete block walls. The sounds of ankle chains clanked in the air, keys jangled from the guards’ Sam Browne belts, blurring with the roar of humanity from inside each pod. The din grew and dissipated as they made their way through the labyrinth of hallways to solitary confinement. Rainey endured the vile calls from inside the cells. The deeper they went into the prison where the worst offenders were held, the more abusive the taunts became. Men masturbated openly, trying to rattle her. She kept her eyes focused ahead, not giving them the satisfaction of looking. Buried beneath the prison walls, where he would never take another free breath, Dalton Chambers waited.

At the end of a long hallway, they turned left to face a single, heavily guarded room. The reinforced glass and steel wall allowed them to see inside the high security interview area. Two guards stood watch by the door, two more in riot gear a few feet away. Five guards, dressed in Prisoner Removal Team gear, stood outside the door. With extra armor and helmets, they were prepared to make the prisoner comply, forcefully, if necessary. A few of them wore an eager expression, apparently hoping for a chance to use their unique skills.

Dalton’s wrists were cuffed and attached to a chain connected to a belt at his waist. His leg restraints glinted under the table. A guard stood watch in the corner of the room, holding a black box in his hand. Rainey recognized the box. It operated an electronic custody control stun belt, also around Dalton’s waist. At their last meeting, Dalton became furious, lashing out at Danny. It took three guards to restrain him. They were taking no chances this time. If Dalton so much as twitched, Rainey was sure the guard would not hesitate to send 50,000 volts coursing through his body.

Their escort spoke into his radio. “Control, open on twelve.”

The door in front of them slid open. Danny entered first, a stack of file folders in his hand. He walked straight to the table. Tossing the files down, he glared at Dalton.

“I’m not going to have any trouble with you today, am I?”

Dalton ignored Danny. He looked around him at Rainey as she entered. “Why Agent Bell, you look beautiful.”

Rainey woke up on, what her dad would have called, “the wrong side of the bed.” She was in no mood to pretend to like Dalton, but she had to. Her part in the investigation was to appear sympathetic to Dalton’s situation. She pulled her hair down, because he liked it that way. Rainey didn’t want Dalton to be attracted to her, but her looks distracted him. Their tactics were for Danny to push and prod, while she coaxed and cajoled the information out of this sadistic rapist murderer. In his plea deal, to avoid the death penalty Dalton was given six consecutive life sentences, without the possibility of parole, in exchange for the location of other victims’ bodies tied to him after his arrest. Nothing he said about his Virginia crimes after the deal could be used to prosecute him further. He had been careful not to mention any unknown crimes in North Carolina.

Once again, television and movie portrayals of behavioral analysts were wrong. The BAU did not like to interview serial killers until after incarceration, because they had reason to lie before trial. Dalton had no reason to be anything but honest about his Virginia crimes, now. He was under the mistaken impression that once he was locked up for life, North Carolina would not be interested in spending the money to continue their investigation or hold a trial there. Rainey certainly did nothing to dispel this belief. In total, Dalton admitted to sexually assaulting and murdering eighteen young women over the course of three years and two states. It made Rainey sick to her stomach to feign interest in his long rambling descriptions of his crimes. She interviewed dozens of sadistic criminals and never felt the disgust she did for Dalton Chambers, but they needed to study him. What they learned from him could one day prevent or help solve future crimes. It was her job, but she didn’t have to like it. Today, she especially loathed being there.

Rainey produced a smile and took a seat at the table. “How are you? Are you eating enough? You look tired.”

Dalton sneered at the guard in the corner. “These fuckers won’t let me sleep. Rousting my cell in the middle of the night and I haven’t had my hour in the yard in a week.”

Dalton’s muscular body had actually increased in size since his incarceration, partly due to getting and taking his medication on a regular basis. On the outside he saved his meds and took them in bunches, instead of daily as they were prescribed. The rage brought on by the exploitation of steroids was evident in his crimes. The drugs did not cause his actions. He simply used them as a tool to enforce his already sadistic fury. Now, he had nothing to do but exercise within his cell, where he was locked down for twenty-three hours a day, more if he misbehaved. He was allowed to shower three times a week and was supposed to get one hour in the tiny enclosed exercise yard every day, but that could be withheld if he broke the rules. Dalton had been misbehaving.

Rainey knew Dalton was approaching that time in a prisoner’s life when the futility of his existence and the permanence of his situation set in. This time was usually accompanied by acting out. With no way to release his anger on his choice of victim, he demonstrated it by being less than a model prisoner. Rainey read the discipline reports during the helicopter ride from Quantico. Since she saw him last, two weeks ago, he had attacked a guard while being led to the shower, thrown feces at the doctor who came to check on him after the guards had to use physical force to remove him from the shower, and exposed himself to the facility nurse charged with administering his synthetic testosterone treatments. Rainey thought the testosterone should have been withheld, but the court ordered it for health reasons produced by his traumatic castration.

Rainey answered Dalton’s whining with, “I’m sorry. I’ll see what I can do about that.”

The guard in the corner of the room let out a short laugh.

Dalton reacted. “See, these assholes are just looking for a chance to fuck with me. One of them told me I killed the warden’s cousin. Is that true? Was one of those girls kin to him, cause if that’s the case, then you guys better get me out of here.”

The guards were having a joke at Dalton’s expense. Rainey tried not to laugh and instead answered, “No, I don’t think that’s true, but I’ll look into it just to make sure.”

Danny snickered, drawing Dalton’s attention away from Rainey. He glared at Danny, momentarily showing his true colors. “Fuck you, McNally. You’re lucky I didn’t break your neck the last time you were here.”

Danny smiled. “And you’re lucky the guards stepped in, because I would have saved the Commonwealth a lot of money keeping you alive for however many years you have left, before one of these other fine upstanding citizens in here shanks your ass.”

The muscles in Dalton’s neck tensed, his temples began to pulsate, and his right eye twitched. He glanced at the guard with the black box. Rainey knew Dalton was contemplating what he could do to Danny before the voltage took him down. He relaxed back against the chair, after a moment, turning his attention back to Rainey. This was all part of the plan her team had come up with. Danny would get nowhere with his questions, but Rainey, who had gained Dalton’s trust, would. Evidently, he had forgotten his threats to kill her, or more likely, his psychopathic personality was trying to win her over, completing his need to make her a victim of his charm. The angrier he got with Danny, the more he reached out to her. Rainey took her cue.

“Dalton, don’t make things worse.” She turned to Danny. “Agent McNally, maybe you should step out and compose yourself.”

Danny made a show of being livid. He pushed his chair back violently and stormed towards the door. The guard on the outside spoke into his radio again and the door opened. Just before leaving, Danny turned back around.

“We’ve got everything we need from this asshole. Don’t play his games, Rainey.”

That was just it; they didn’t have all they needed. They had the how and why of his crimes, but they were sure not all of his victims. From the information they had so far, the team decided that Dalton fit the anger excitation rapist’s profile developed in the 1980’s, by some of the original behavioral analysts. Dalton got his sexual gratification from the victim’s suffering. He got off on inflicting excessive physical pain and psychological terror. He used a planned con game to gain his victim’s trust, initially charming and intelligent, only to become hostile and violent once he gained control. Like others who committed similar crimes, he often asked, “Do you like that, bitch,” while using bondage and torture during the prolonged sexual assaults. He was lethal after his initial years of maturation into a full-blown methodical, ritualistic murderer. Escaping this type of rapist was almost impossible. The women who encountered Dalton were doomed from the moment he met them. There were more similarities to the profile and Rainey knew them all.