Where Evil Waits (30 page)

K
ARA’S THROAT CLOGGED.
S
HE
forced herself to take inventory: Yes, the lobby looked like it always had—the stalls branching down the aisle to the left, the arena to the right, and the various rooms along the lobby. Sasha Rodin sat on a stack of crates. He was big—bigger than she remembered—and even harsher. Fifteen years in prison can do that, she imagined, and the image of the woman he’d raped and beaten rose to mind. She
had
looked like Kara. Back when Kara was young and naïve and in love with Andrew, and hadn’t entertained a passing thought about Sasha Rodin or why he and his family had left the ranch.

Apparently, he’d never stopped thinking about Kara.

Her gaze snagged on the towel around his neck. The garrote hung on top, a stole of thorns.

He got up and came toward her. “I see you dressed for the party. Good girl.”

Kara swallowed. Think.
Think.
Luke was listening. She had to let him know what he was walking into. And she had to find Seth. If she couldn’t do those two things, her efforts would mean nothing.

“I see you did, too,” she said, finding her voice. “Nice necklace.”

He laughed. “Oh, this old thing?” His fingers stroked the handles. “I made it years ago.”

“For your father?”

“No, after. Doing my father wasn’t planned. After I got out of prison, I found him out in a field making repairs to a fence. I thought he’d be happy to see me. He told me to go to hell. I reacted impulsively—and found my true calling in that moment. Turns out I liked the way it felt to have him hanging there between my hands in the wire. So I took the wire and worked with it, crafted these beautiful handles.” His eyes bore into hers. “Every time I used it, I dreamed of what it would feel like to have
you
dangling in my hands.”

Kara swallowed. Jesus God. He was sick.

He stepped a little closer. “You have no idea how difficult it was for me to wait all these months for you. Every time I killed one of your party guests, I wanted so to show you how. I wanted you to dream about our moment together along with me. But it was worth the wait. I must say, your reaction was quite unexpected.”

“You mean, contacting the FBI?” she asked. “They’re outside. Don’t think we’re alone.”

“Well, I would hope they’re outside. I’m going to need them in a little while. I would be foolish to think I could get out of here without their help.”

She frowned, then understood. “You think that after I’m dead you can bargain with them to get out. You’re dreaming.”

“I don’t think so. You see, I thought ahead. I have one hostage to make sure I get what I want from you. And I have a second to make sure they let me drive away. I may
even demand a chopper, or something dramatic like that. I haven’t decided yet.”

“You have Seth. And who else? Your father?”

“Of course. You remember him, don’t you?”

He looked up into the balcony and Kara followed his gaze. She swallowed. Dmitri Rodin sat in a wheelchair, slumped beneath a blanket, his shoulders clad in plaid pajamas and head covered with a brimmed straw hat—the kind the outdoor workers used to wear in the sun. She peered at him as hard as she could; she couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

Let Luke know.

“You should bring your father down,” she said. “It gets hot in that balcony.”

“He’s fine,” Sasha replied. “It’s the best view in the house.”

“Where is Seth?”

“Oh, Kara. What kind of fool do you think I am? I know you aren’t lying about all the Federal agents outside. So, why would I tell you where Seth is before I’m finished with you? I don’t want them storming in here prematurely. Not all of them would make it, mind you, but they might be crazy enough to risk a few more limbs if they thought they could get to a kid.”

“What do you want with me?”

Sasha began to circle her, walking a radius about ten feet away, stroking the wooden handles of his garrote and letting his eyes feast on the large amount of flesh Kara had bared. At one point he winced, almost as if a sharp pain had stabbed, and his breathing deepened.
Think bikini,
she told herself, knowing she had swimwear that showed more. Still, his leer sent shivers over her skin.

“Fine, don’t tell me. I don’t give a damn. But for God’s
sake, what do you think this is?” she asked, gesturing to the stable. “If you wanted to bring back memories for me, you did a piss poor job of it. This is nothing like Montgomery Manor.”

He snarled. “It’s everything like Montgomery Manor. I ought to know. I was there for more years than you were.”

She scoffed. “I’ll bet you don’t even have the stalls right. It didn’t look right from outside.”

“Oh, really?” he asked, arching a blond brow. “Let’s go see. After you.”

Kara closed her eyes.
Yes.

Yes.
Luke listened, still in the back of the car, and knew Kara had just given him his break. She was pulling Sasha away from the front door. Luke shifted to check the Glock in his belt, pushed the door open, and climbed out. Pulled the G18 from the floor of the backseat and jammed in the extra clip.

Dark, now. That would help. Unless he stepped a little off Kara’s path and set off Sasha’s idea of a booby trap.

“I’m going,” he said, knowing MacGregor and Mike could hear him. At this stage of the game, they had only one path in—the one Kara had taken—but it was better than nothing. And so long as Kara kept Sasha from the west windows and door, Sasha wasn’t likely to see the team start sweeping for mines at this end. All they needed was a single clean path for the SWAT team. Fifteen minutes from now, they would have it.

“Luke,” Mike said into his earpiece. “Sasha isn’t being sexual. She walked in there half-naked and all he can think about is his wire and the stable.”

“So?”

“It’s not right. He raped Marti Delaney because she
was the spitting image of Kara. And now he doesn’t want her? It doesn’t fit.”

Luke walked slowly, carefully, eyeing the path. “I’m a little busy to be working riddles right now, Hogan. When you figure it out, let me know.” He passed the wishing well that had held Kara’s dreams as a child and wondered briefly if it was rigged to explode, kept his eye on his footing, and moved on. He came to the door and lowered his voice to a whisper, adjusting his grip on the G18. “Going in.”

He opened the door, blinked at the lighting, and looked around. Could hear Sasha’s voice faintly from the left, but couldn’t see them. They’d gone down the corridor. Good girl.

You should bring your father down from there…

He moved to his right, toward the stairs Kara had mentioned. She’d drawn a diagram of the complex, every last detail. Looking around now, Luke could see that Sasha had it perfect.

He took the stairs two at a time into the balcony. A wheelchair sat in the middle, overlooking the lobby. An old man slouched in it.

Luke crouched low and went to the man, realizing in the back of his mind that crouching hardly mattered. The fluorescents were bright as sunshine. His nostrils twitched as he got close to the chair and his heart sank. When a person died, his bladder and bowels gave out and he could tell—

The body moved. Just a little—a raspy bit of a breath.

Dmitri Rodin was alive.

The smell was wrong
.

That’s what hit Kara as she walked down the wide
corridor of stalls, her heart knotting in her throat. Despite what she’d said to Sasha, the stalls were exactly what she remembered. Everything exactly the same.

Except the smell. It didn’t smell of horses. Just sawdust and stonedust and straw, and maybe the scent of disinfectant. Or fly spray. But no horses. There were no animals in the stalls. They were empty.

Except—

Kara pulled up short.
MEGAN.
Her name was burned into a wooden sign in capital letters and hung on the stall door, a helium balloon attached to it. Megan, a curly-haired blonde Kara had met in the eighth grade. They’d shared the same piano teacher and become fast friends.

And now,
MEGAN
, a college student and club waitress, walking home from work…

Kara gasped. She gaped at Sasha. “In there?” she asked, and he smiled.

“It wasn’t easy. You threw my timing off. First, going to Penny Wolff and Guilford. Then that thing with the boat. I very nearly didn’t get Megan in the ground in time.”

Kara staggered backward. She hit the wall, trying to make sense of it, her eyes skimming down the rest of the corridor and knowing what she’d find: Every stall gate was labeled. Every nameplate had a balloon. Every stall filled.

Not with horses.

By small degrees, she realized Sasha had come close to her, close enough to reach, a chuckle vibrating in his chest. “Ah, you finally got it,” he said. “How does it feel, knowing they’re all here? Well, all but Andrew, that is. He was the first and I wasn’t quite prepared. I’d planned to take his body, but there wasn’t time. And there was that
other woman to deal with. All I managed to grab was his sunglasses.” He took Kara by the arm and hauled her away from the wall. “But that’s all right. The stall I’d planned to use for him won’t remain empty forever. I’ve decided to put Aidan in it. Of course, you let your FBI friends ruin that, but the other boy will do almost as well. Seth.”

Kara couldn’t breathe. She knew Aidan was safe. But Seth… “You haven’t killed Seth,” she said. “You need him in order to assure my cooperation.”

Sasha leaned close and whispered, “Don’t you forget it.” Then he smiled. “Come with me, Kara. There’s a special stall I want you to see. The one Guapa used to use.”

“Let go of me.” Kara jerked from his hand and forced her knees to work. Luke should be in the stable by now. He was listening. He was here somewhere. “Don’t touch me, you animal.”

Again, Sasha chuckled. “Whatever you say. For now.”

He stepped back and allowed her to walk in front of him and Kara swallowed back bile. Passing each stall where a body was buried, remembering each gift she’d gotten. She could hardly grasp it.

Sasha accompanied her down the corridor. “A shame Guapa had to get so sick and die like that, wasn’t it?” he asked. “How did she die again? Something tragic, as I recall.”

Kara turned to him. “How did you know that? You were gone by then.”

He drilled her with those emotionless eyes. “I came back. And, oh, yes, now I remember… A fence blew down. She got into the wild cherry trees.”

“You?” Kara asked.

“Who else? The fool horse was a lot like you, though. She made it hard. It wasn’t enough for her to crib on the
bark, so I had to make sure a little extra got into her feed.” His fingers went from idly stroking the handles of his garrote to actually pulling one away from his body and regarding it with great admiration. “Wild cherry,” he said. “Nasty stuff for horses. But beautiful when put to better use.”

“You son of a bitch.” She pulled herself together. Falling apart would get her nowhere. Even if Luke had made it inside, they still had to find Seth. She had to keep her head.

“What did you do with Seth?”

Sasha laughed. “He’s down under. Where do you think? Come on, Kara, I do enjoy a good riddle. And my father would be so proud of me for engaging in one. He always thought my brother was the only one worthy of mind games.” He took her arm and gave a shove. “I want to show you Guapa’s stall. And if you’re good, perhaps you can have your wish.”

L
UKE LISTENED, HEARD
K
ARA
stumble and her voice grow weak, and his lungs stopped working. She was there and Sasha was torturing her and Luke couldn’t do a fucking thing about it. They didn’t know where Seth was.
Down under
. Buried already? The thought stabbed Luke in the chest. And Sasha was coming back. Luke heard the sneering voice, closer, closer, taunting Kara.

Hang in there, love. I’m here
.

“Here,” Sasha said. “Guapa’s stall. All ready for you.”

Kara looked. There was a hole several feet wide and almost as deep, the fine woodchip flooring piled high in the corner. A shovel awaiting its work.

Kara reeled. Oh, God. He couldn’t have done this to Seth. In the stall meant for Andrew?

She stepped to the left of the gate, toward the lobby. She didn’t know where Luke was or if he could even see her, but the closer to the lobby they were, the better chance they had.
Please, Luke.

“So you’re going to strangle me and bury me here with everyone else, is that it?” she asked.

Sasha smiled. A leering, evil smile. “Yes. But you left out the part where we finish what you started all those years ago.”

“Never.”

“Really, Kara? Why? Because you’re not the one for me?” He whirled toward the lobby, looking across it and up to the balcony. “Do you hear that,
nana
? Papa, wake up, damn you. Are you listening? This is the girl you said was too good for me. The one I could never have. But I have her now, don’t I?”

Kara looked up at the balcony. Sasha’s father barely moved. She tried to rattle her brain into working. “It wasn’t about being too good for you,” she said. “I was a child, you were a man. I had a crush on Andrew, that’s all.”

Sasha looked back at Kara, his eyes glazed with hatred and something that looked almost like pain. “And for that, you ruined me?” He shook his head, as if trying to shake something off, and began to work his belt buckle. Kara swallowed. She backed up, moving away from Guapa’s stall and toward the lobby, and for every step she took, he followed. “You never even knew it, did you?” he said. “How you ruined me.” He was unbuckling, and Kara was backing up. He pulled his fly open and freed himself; Kara wanted to gag.

“Look at me, bitch,” he said, and she tried to look everywhere but at him. He was aroused, though his face contorted in pain. Nausea balled in Kara’s belly. “I said,
look at me
. Or I’ll kill Seth this very minute.”

Kara looked.

“Do you see? The scars. They’re from you.”

“No.”

“Yes,”
he ground out, his teeth clenched. He blinked his eyes. As if something was in them. “You pushed me
into the barbed wire when you ran from the tack room. You left me stuck and bleeding.”

What?
Kara reeled.

He let go of his pants, letting them hang loose. “But don’t think I’m unable to finish what we started. I am. Marti Delaney learned that the hard way, although she wasn’t worth the years I spent in prison for having her. Everything works, Kara.”

“Then why?” she rasped. “For God’s sake, I’m sorry you got hurt. I was fifteen. You were forcing me. I didn’t mean for you to fall into barbed wire, but you just said you’re fine.”

“Fine,”
he sneered. “You call this fine? Every fucking time I’m hard, the scars pull and I feel you. Every time I’m hard, I hear you and your rich little friends, laughing at me while I bled in the tack room and while my father blamed me for ruining everything. I felt you every time I got in the shower at the prison where they could see, and was the brunt of every joke. I was another inmate’s bitch for years, until after the letter. Then they started to respect me. They knew I’d get out someday and I’d be able to do anything. I bulked up and became the one other prisoners were afraid of instead of the one they used for their jollies. You know how hard it is to bulk up in prison? No gyms, no equipment, but I did it. You should see how many pull-ups I can do on a bunk bed, how many leg lifts I can manage with a bench. I did it, Kara, after the letter. The letter changed everything.”

Kara’s mind was a blur. “Letter? What letter?”

The rage that had seemed to have hold of him suddenly let go, and Sasha burst out laughing. It was a maniacal sound filled with evil, and Kara could do nothing but keep stepping back, closer and closer to the tack wall, inching
to her right where she knew the equipment would hang. The bridles and blankets, chaps.

The crops.

He stopped laughing and looked upstairs. “Papa, did you hear? She wants to know what letter.” His gaze landed on Kara, following her step for step. “The letter about my inheritance. The one
you
never got.”

Kara stilled. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about this,” he said, gesturing to the stable. “Montgomery Manor and everything that came with it. It’s mine. Your crazy father gave it to me.” He stilled, looking Kara straight in the eyes. “
Our
crazy father.”

Kara blinked, trying to make it all come together, and in one, sweeping thought, it did. “His anonymous donation,” she said. “That was you?”

“Yes. Because I’m
his
son,
his
blood. Not you.” He looked upstairs again, his body loosening up now, his gestures like those of a drunk. His pants fit again, hanging loose on his hips, his erection gone. He looked at Kara with sheer hatred.
“Sis,”
he said. “Willis Montgomery fucked my mother but wouldn’t claim me. Instead, he promised my father a windfall when I turned twenty-one, so long as no one ever found out he’d been with a kitchen maid. Willis Montgomery gave you everything all your life. You, who aren’t even his
blood
, and held it all back from me.”

Kara couldn’t believe it. She wanted to say something that might help Luke or find Seth, but she could hardly speak.

“I didn’t want all that,” she said, her frame shaking. “I would have given it to you.”

“Bullshit,” he said. “You know, I used to stand there and watch you, every fucking birthday, standing around
the wishing well with your friends, tossing stones down under the bucket and I’d wonder:
What could they have to wish for? They have everything
. And there I was, not smart enough to be
my
father’s son or rich enough to be
your
father’s son. And not good enough for you.” He straightened, seeming to get a hold of himself. “But look at me now, Kara. I’m
all
those things. Guess Old Man Montgomery finally decided to do right by me. So long as he could do it without tarnishing his image.”

Kara wanted to wilt. She remembered her father’s anger just before he died, when she told him she didn’t want Montgomery Manor and was planning to stay in Atlanta and keep working her civil servant job. He couldn’t comprehend such a decision.

In that, he wasn’t all that different from Sasha.

Kara took one more step backward.
Sasha? Her brother?
“You wouldn’t rape your own sister.”

He laughed. “Well, I would, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re not my sister. You were adopted, remember? You’re the one who isn’t a Montgomery. But you’re right; that’s not what matters anymore.”

“Then, what?” she asked, fear nearly choking her.

“What matters is that you know the truth. That
you’re
not good enough for
me
. I want you to know that for just one moment.” He glanced upstairs, as if making sure his father had heard. “Before you die.”

His hands went to the handles of the garrote and he whipped it from over his shoulders. Kara backed up against the wall, her hands groping the equipment there. She thought she felt a crop but it was stuck and she wheeled around to wrench it from the wall and the wire swooped down in front of her face. She jumped, and it caught her around the chest and he tugged her back, pulling, and from
nowhere came an animal roar and something crashed down from the sky.

His father—no, Luke—hit the floor. He came up and went for Sasha, grabbed him from behind, and the wire ripped into her flesh as Luke rained blows down on Sasha’s arms. Sasha’s grip broke and she fell to the ground. She pulled the wire from her bra and skin, it leaving deep pricks in her arms and across her upper breasts. She turned and saw Luke, wearing plaid pajamas with a blue throw tangled in his legs, pummeling Sasha with his fists, bashing him with the butt of his gun. An instant later, Hogan was on him, a line of armed agents coming in behind.

“Damn it, stop it,” he yelled to Luke. “Don’t kill him. Seth.
Seth.
”

The words finally registered and Luke stopped, panting, his mouth hanging open like a rabid dog’s. He staggered from the heap that was Sasha and his eyes lit on Kara, dipping to the bloody marks left by the wire, and he limped over to her, crushing her into his body.

Time stood still for as long as it took for Kara to realize she was safe, and for them both to catch their breaths. They parted and looked at Sasha. Mike Hogan dragged him across the floor and propped him against the wall, growling: “Tell me where the kid is, you bastard. Where is Seth?”

Sasha’s head rolled against the pine wall, his face a mash of torn tissue and blood from Luke’s rage. He focused on Hogan for one fraction of time and said, “Fuck you.”

Hogan went for his throat and Kara said, “Wait. I know where Seth is.”

Hogan looked at her, his chest rising and falling with his breathing. Luke squeezed her hand.

“He’s in the well, down under the bucket that’s not there.” Hogan tipped his head to some of the agents behind him and they jogged out the door to go look. Kara stepped toward Sasha, her voice cold with rage. “Do I get my wish now?”

Sasha narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on her, his mouth working to form words she couldn’t understand, and all the while, his hands moved, too, searching for the handles of his precious garrote on the stable floor.

“Do it,” Luke said under his breath.

Sasha did. He clutched the handles and rose up, swinging the wire through the air toward Kara. Luke fired.

Sasha dropped dead.