Right Behind Her (Bree Taggert) Page 25

  Bree turned his chin so he faced her. “Does Elias have Curtis Evans?”

  Shawn’s nod was nearly imperceptible. “Gonna die. Tonight.” His eyeballs rolled up into his head.

  Bree grabbed the bottle of water and shook some onto his face. Shawn sputtered. His eyes opened again.

  Bree caught and held eye contact. “I need to know where Elias is. Where did he take Curtis?”

  Her voice edged between frustration and desperation. Matt knew the very last thing she wanted to do was go to Mrs. Evans and tell her her only remaining son was dead. If the news didn’t kill the woman, it would certainly break her.

  Bree focused on Shawn. “Stay with me. Where is Elias?”

  “I don’t know.” Shawn’s voice was thick, and his words slurred together. “He’s gonna kill him, but he hasta make him pay first. No one crosses Elias. He makes everyone pay.”

  Matt thought of Frank’s snipped fingertips and Jane’s broken bones. What would Elias do to Curtis? “Come on, Shawn. Do the right thing. Tell us where he went.”

  A tear leaked from Shawn’s eye. “He went back to the killing place.” His eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp.

  The deputy raced into the room with the Narcan nasal spray. He administered half of the contents in each nostril.

  They couldn’t wait. Bree ordered the deputy to stay at Elias’s house and take charge of what was now a crime scene. “If Shawn doesn’t come to in five minutes, give him a second dose.”

  Narcan worked only if a person had opioids in their system. It wouldn’t hurt him.

  “Todd, Collins, you’re with me. We have to go before Elias kills Curtis.” She turned and headed for the door. Matt was close behind her.

  “Where are we going? Where is the killing place?” Todd asked as they rushed from the basement.

  Bree didn’t break stride. “My family farm.”

  Matt checked his vest. They stood on the rural road a quarter of a mile away from the Taggert place. They’d come in with no lights or sirens and parked their vehicles on the shoulder of the road. The night air remained hot and humid, and he’d already sweat through his polo shirt. His blood hummed with anticipation. He settled his rifle into the crook of his arm.

  Bree slid her Glock from its holster. Next to her, Todd and Collins checked their weapons.

  Bree touched the mic clipped to her chest, and her voice spoke in Matt’s earpiece. “Check, one, two, three.”

  Matt touched his own mic. “Check.”

  Todd’s and Collins’s voices replied next.

  “Move out.” Bree’s hand moved in a chop-down motion, signaling them toward the house.

  On foot, they turned into the driveway. The moon shone, but as they approached the house, the tree branches curved over their heads, blocking out the light. They moved at a careful but steady pace, opting for quiet over speed, trying to minimize the crunch of dirt and gravel under their feet. By the time they reached the house, Matt’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and he could make out the major elements in the eerie landscape.

  He scanned the clearing. Elias must have used a car to transport a kidnapping victim, but Matt didn’t see a vehicle. He wanted to check the ground for tire tracks, but he didn’t want to risk turning on a flashlight while they were out in the open.

  They didn’t want Elias to know they were there.

  His right hand ached, and he loosened his grip on the rifle. They crept forward, and his blood hummed with tension. Backup from the state police was on the way, but they couldn’t wait. Shawn had said that Curtis would be killed tonight, and it was already dark. Bree would not accept Curtis being murdered while she sat on the sidelines waiting for the big guns.

  Matt agreed. He’d been raised in this rural area. When you lived in the country, you learned to do for yourself.

  They crossed the clearing. The house squatted in darkness, and the barn loomed in the background. The buzz and chirp of insects filled the night. The air smelled of forest, earth, and decay. A mosquito landed on Matt’s neck. He ignored it and focused on the structures ahead, his eyes, ears, and Spidey senses all tuned to his environment.

  As planned, they headed for the house. Todd and Collins went around back to cover the rear exit. Bree crept up to the front door. She tried the knob. It was locked, but she’d picked up the key from her brother. Matt peered through a window. Inside, the house was dark and empty.

  She drew the key from her pocket, inserted it into the lock, and pushed open the door. She stepped inside. Matt was right on her heels. The scent of mold and dust hit his nose, and he suppressed a sneeze. They both turned on their flashlights and swept the beams around the room but found it empty. Walking through to the back door, Matt saw the shadows of Todd and Collins. He opened the back door for them. The house was small. They split up and searched the bedrooms in a few minutes, then reassembled in the kitchen.

  Bree waved one hand toward the barn. They filed outside and crept across the yard. As they approached, Matt’s instincts kicked in, as if he could feel someone’s presence. His senses sharpened, until it seemed as if he could hear the rush of blood through his veins.

  They crouched behind a tree and scanned the facade.

  Was that a faint glow in the loft window?

  Matt nudged Bree’s arm with his elbow. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Do you see the light?”

  She nodded and turned to put her lips to his ear. “Faint. Like a camp lantern.”

  She circled her hand in the air. Todd and Collins went around to the back of the barn. Bree and Matt moved toward the main door. They stopped behind a huge oak tree. She motioned for him to stay back and cover her. Matt swore. She should be sending deputies into the danger zone, not heading into it herself. She might be learning to delegate, but she would always lead from the front.

  She crossed the ground, pressed her shoulder to the barn door, and put her eye to a crack in the rotting wood. Her body stiffened, and Matt heard her slight, involuntary intake of breath. What did she see?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Bree’s stomach twisted as she stared into the barn. Only a narrow slice of the interior was visible. But in that limited view, she saw Curtis.

  The barn had been built primarily for equipment storage. Six stalls and an open loft lined one wall. The rest was one big space. Curtis stood at the very edge of the loft. A portable spotlight was trained on him, as if he were a piece of art on display. A noose was tied around his neck. The rope rose from his neck and disappeared into the darkness over his head, probably tied to an overhead beam.

  He stood on his toes, the noose and rope clearly tight enough to make him strain to breathe and struggle to balance. His head tipped back slightly, and his lips were open and pursed. He was sucking air like a goldfish that had jumped out of its bowl. If he slipped forward a few inches, he’d fall out of the loft and be hanged.

  He turned his head slightly and looked in Bree’s direction, as if he knew she was there. She pulled away a few inches. He couldn’t possibly see her.

  A low groan came from his lips. It was the guttural sound of an animal in pain, reduced to its base instincts. His wrists were bound behind his back. A crude, blood-soaked bandage was tied around one hand. Blood dripped to the raw wooden floor of the loft. Sickness rose in Bree’s chest and burned her throat as her mind conjured images of his torture.

  Elias was a monster.

  She had to catch him, stop him from hurting anyone else.

  She wanted to rush inside and free Curtis, but she quelled the urge. This could be a trap.

  Elias had set a stage. Why? He had something planned. Where was he?

  She backed away from the board and spotted a knothole a few feet to her left. She eased over and peered through it. But it was no use. She couldn’t see into the corners of the barn. The spotlight blinded her to the rest of the interior. Elias could be anywhere.

  She glanced around her. After staring at the spotlight for several minutes, sh
e’d lost her night vision. She eased back a step, slowly sliding her feet and avoiding twigs that could snap and announce her presence. Two more steps and she could update Matt on what she’d seen.

  “Sheriff.” Elias’s disembodied voice came from inside the barn. “I know you’re there. Please come inside.”

  Bree froze, then took another step back. Was he watching her? She had a sense of eyes on her, but it could be her imagination. She hesitated, unable to contact her team. Matt was only a handful of yards away, but she was unable to communicate with him either, not if Elias was close enough to overhear.

  The less Elias knew, the better.

  He might have seen all four of them arrive. In that case, there would be no surprising him. But there was a chance he didn’t know about the rest of her team.

  “I’m waiting.” Elias’s voice sounded oddly hollow. “I could hurt him some more. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

  Conflict tugged at Bree. How long could Curtis maintain his balance? He looked close to passing out. She couldn’t let him hang, but walking into a trap would be pointless and stupid. She couldn’t save anyone if she was dead.

  A sharp scent cut through the warm night. Gasoline. Bree’s pulse kicked up. She scanned the barn, and her gaze locked on a pile of wooden debris below Curtis’s feet. Alarm and fear sent adrenaline streaking through her.

  Elias wasn’t going to rely on Curtis losing consciousness or his balance failing. He was going to burn his victim alive.

  Elias’s voice rang out again. “You have ten seconds to open the door or he’s dead. Ticktock.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Matt’s muscles coiled. He couldn’t see what was happening in the barn, but it had to be bad. He readied himself to lunge for Bree to keep her from walking into the barn—into a likely death trap. But she was out of reach. He’d never get to her in time.

  She didn’t move toward the barn, but he could tell by her posture that she wanted to. Bree wasn’t stupid, but she was self-sacrificing. She would risk her life for another’s.

  Her voice rang out clear and confident. “What do you want, Elias?”

  “I just told you what I want,” Elias called out. “You. In here. Don’t you want to save Curtis?”

  Matt tried to pinpoint Elias’s location, but he seemed to be moving.

  Todd’s voice sounded in Matt’s ear. “We found Elias Donovan’s Jeep behind the barn.”

  Matt couldn’t respond. He was too close to the barn. Elias would hear him.

  Bree raised her voice. “Send Curtis out. Then I’ll come in.”

  “I’m not stupid,” Elias snapped. “Fine. Have it your way. I’ll just kill him.”

  Matt heard something whoosh. Bree lunged forward, throwing open the barn doors and exposing a living nightmare.

  High above, Curtis Evans was in a state of semihanging, his toes barely touching the floor, inches from the edge of the loft. There was no play in the rope, no drop for a merciful neck break. If his toes slipped over, he’d die by strangulation.

  A fire raged at his feet. The screams he emitted were choking, high-pitched, and primal. They were the sounds of someone who had been stripped of their humanity.

  They were the sounds of sheer, unadulterated terror.

  Bree started toward him, but Matt shoved the rifle into her hands. “Cover me.” He raced past her.

  “No,” she protested.

  Matt hesitated and looked over his shoulder. “Can you carry him out?”

  “Shit! No. Wait.” She ran through the barn doors, dropped behind a barrel, and aimed the rifle over the top. From there she would have a decent view of most of the barn. “Go!”

  The pungent smell of gasoline hit his nostrils as he sprinted for the ladder to the loft. In front of him, flames ate at what once had been stalls. Soon, they’d reach the ladder. Then there would be no way to get to Curtis before he was either hanged or burned to death.

  In his peripheral vision, Matt saw the rear door opening. Gunshots sounded. He flinched but kept running. If he didn’t reach Curtis in the next few minutes, the man would die.

  Matt reached the ladder just as the fire licked at the base. Another gunshot went off. Matt leaped for the rungs. Smoke billowed as he climbed. By the time he hit the top, he was coughing. He stumbled forward, the smoke burning his eyes.

  Ahead, Curtis was slumped, unmoving, the noose around his neck pulled tight.

  Matt lunged toward him. Was Curtis still alive?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Bree searched for the origin of the gunshots but saw no one. Smoke billowed through the barn and out the open rear door, the barn aisle acting like a chimney. In her peripheral vision, she saw Matt make it safely up the ladder.

  Please, let him get Curtis and get them out alive.

  Static snapped in her earpiece, and Todd’s voice sounded in her ear. “What’s going on?”

  She slapped her mic. “What do you see?”

  Todd said, “All we can see is fire. Fire department and ambulance are en route.”

  Bree pressed her mic again. “Matt is in the loft. Where is the shooter?”

  “Too much smoke. We can’t see anything.”

  Damn it.

  Where is that bastard?

  Something moved to her right, and she caught a glimpse of a man running. She swung the rifle. Her finger twitched on the trigger guard. Then the wind shifted, and the smoke blew across the space between them. She was blinded.

  Smoke burned her eyes, blurring her vision.

  Had he gotten away?

  Probably.

  She turned back to see Matt running toward Curtis. The man hung on the end of the rope. The fire had nearly reached the base of the ladder. Grabbing Curtis’s shoulders, Matt pulled a folding knife from his pocket and sliced the rope. The wounded man fell into his arms. Matt didn’t waste time assessing him. He turned and dragged the unconscious man toward the ladder, but it was gone. The old wood burned like kindling. In another minute or two, the entire loft would be on fire. Bree pointed toward the other side of the barn. When she was a child, there had been a ladder on each end of the barn.

  Now she could only hope it was still there.

  “Get out!” Matt shouted to her.

  But she would not leave him.

  He heaved Curtis over one shoulder into a fireman’s carry. Matt strode across the loft, wood cracking and embers hissing as the fire grew. Bree rushed to meet him, turning to provide cover in case she’d been wrong and Elias was still in the barn. Half of the second ladder’s rungs were missing or broken. Matt turned and started down. If he weren’t as strong as an ox, he wouldn’t have made it. He had to jump the last five feet. Curtis’s body bobbled and jolted as Matt’s feet hit the ground.

  “Is he alive?” she shouted over the roar of the fire.

  “I don’t know.” Without checking, Matt headed for the door.

  Wood groaned, and a deafening crack blasted overhead. Bree looked up in time to see a burning beam hurtling toward them. She grabbed Matt’s arm and pulled him out of the way. The timber crashed to the ground, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

  Bree turned and tented her arms over Curtis to protect him from the embers as they rained down on them. When the embers stopped falling, she looked up. A huge pile of burning wood blocked the front exit. In unison, she and Matt turned to run for the rear door.

  More timbers crashed to the ground. They covered their faces with their arms. Smoke clogged Bree’s throat and choked her. Tears streamed from her eyes. She blinked to clear them. Ahead, the rear exit was covered with an impenetrable wall of thick, black smoke.

  They were trapped.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Matt shifted Curtis’s heavy weight on his shoulder and came to a sliding stop. He didn’t even know if the man was alive or dead, only that if they didn’t get out of this burning barn, all three of them would die. He scanned the interior of the barn, looking for additional exits. There must be
a window . . .

  The only windows were in the stalls, and they were set six feet up in the wall.

  But fire and smoke surrounded them.

  The wind shifted and carried away some of the smoke. Bree tugged on his arm. Coughing, she pulled him toward a break in the fire. They ran, dodging falling embers and burning piles of debris. The huge piece of ceiling timber that had fallen lay on an angle, propped up by the remains of the exterior wall. Flames crackled and popped over their heads as they ran beneath it. The heat seared the exposed skin on Matt’s cheeks. They reached the door and stumbled through it. Fresh air hit Matt’s lungs like a bucket of ice water.

  He gulped it in, setting off a coughing fit.

  Next to him, Bree coughed and gagged. Todd was at his side in a second, helping carry Curtis away from the fire. They set him down on the ground. Someone thrust a bottle of water into Matt’s hands.

  “Rinse your face and eyes,” Deputy Collins said.

  Matt poured the water over his eyes, then rinsed his mouth and drank deeply. With his vision cleared, he could see Bree next to him doing the same.

  Todd was on his knees next to Curtis, checking his pulse. “He’s alive.”

  Relief and surprise hit Matt with equal punch. He’d expected the poor man to be dead after near strangulation and smoke inhalation.

  “Where’s Collins?” Bree asked.

  Curtis gagged, and Todd rolled him onto his side. “Getting a first aid kit.”

  “Did anyone see Elias get away?” She met Matt’s gaze.

  “No,” Todd said. “The smoke is too thick to see anything.”

  Matt glanced back at the barn. The entire roof was in flames. The fire howled, the wood moaned, and the side wall caved in. Sparks shot into the air. They’d just made it out in time.

  “I might have seen him run that way.” Bree pointed toward the woods.

  “He didn’t take his Jeep.” Todd rinsed Curtis’s eyes. “I disconnected the battery.”

  “So, he’s on foot.” Matt caught Bree’s gaze.

  In the middle of her smoke-blackened face, her lips peeled back into a snarl. “Let’s get him.” She turned to Todd and swept a hand toward the barn and Curtis. “Handle this.”