Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls) Page 28

  “We’ll go in quiet,” Grant said.

  “I’d rather wait until we can get state and county assistance.” Horned frowned at the map.

  Grant shook his head. “I’m not waiting.”

  “Sir, there isn’t time.” Stella wasn’t waiting either. She’d throw down her badge and go in as a civilian if necessary.

  “All right.” Horner tried to look authoritative, but it was hard to pull off next to a former combat officer. “But you will follow my orders and stay out of the way.”

  Grant didn’t answer.

  “See if we have a vest that will fit him.” Horner walked out of the room.

  They finished their prep in the station’s parking lot. Stella briefed the small team.

  Carl joined them, fresh from the fire scene. “I don’t believe it.”

  Stella followed his gaze. Chief Horner was suited up for the op, complete with body armor and an AR-15.

  Carl leaned close. “Do you think he knows how to shoot that?”

  “I hope so.”

  Horner tugged his dark blue cap low on his brow. He nodded to Carl. “Let’s go.”

  “Yes, sir.” Carl got into his car.

  “You can ride with me,” Stella said to Grant as she donned her Kevlar vest.

  Grant shook his head. A car pulled into the lot and Hannah got out. Dressed in black cargos and a T-shirt, she tugged a black knit cap over her bright blonde hair.

  “Hannah and I will follow,” Grant said.

  Stella put her foot down. “I won’t let your vehicle anywhere near the property. If you’re going, you’re going with me.”

  She could not have the Barretts going rogue on her out in the woods and possibly being shot by law enforcement. “You both must stay at the command post. That’s not negotiable.”

  She knew the Barretts well enough to predict they were going to ignore her instructions.

  “Of course,” Hannah said, bumping Grant with her elbow. “We don’t want to get in the way.”

  Grant’s expression said he very much wanted to do just that.

  A rumble of distant thunder foreshadowed the stutter of lightning on the horizon. Another storm was rolling in.

  “Let’s go.” She gestured to her car. Hannah slid into the backseat. Grant rode shotgun. And as much as Stella worried about their presence, something about having the two of them in her car bolstered her confidence. She drove out of the lot as the storm burst from the sky.

  She no longer cared if she was fired. The only thing that mattered was finding Mac and Gianna.

  If they were still alive.

  Thirty minutes later, they gathered outside their dark vehicles near the old stone barn. Stella tugged her cap over her brow to keep the rain out of her eyes. Horner went around the back side of the barn with two uniforms. Drawing her weapon and flashlight, she instructed Grant and Hannah to stay in the car. Then she led Carl and two more officers toward the front door.

  At the entrance, she hesitated. The last time she’d faced a dark barn, it had blown up in front of her. She checked the doorframe for wires but found nothing.

  The door wasn’t locked. She pulled it open and went in, sweeping the space with her weapon and flashlight. Something rustled to her left. Stella spun. A raccoon scurried out the door.

  The building was empty.

  They took a few minutes to check the floor for trapdoors.

  “No one has been in here for a long time.” Horner lowered his light. “Let’s go check the rehab center.”

  They returned to their vehicles and drove to the center. Repeating the procedure, Horner covered the back while Stella and Carl banged on the door. They heard footsteps on the other side of the door. Stella held her weapon ready as the door opened.

  Reilly stood in the lobby in a pair of cotton pajamas. The front was buttoned all the way to his chin, and they appeared as if they’d been ironed. But his hair was rumpled, as if he’d just gotten out of bed. A sinking feeling settled in Stella’s belly.

  They’d gotten it wrong.

  “What’s going on?” he stepped back.

  Stella and Carl pushed past him. “Is anyone else here?”

  “The patients are all sleeping in their rooms. I did bed check a half hour ago.” Reilly scratched his forehead.

  “Can you get everyone out here, please?”

  “I demand to know what’s going on.” He propped a hand on his hip.

  “Two people have been abducted.”

  Reilly’s eyes opened wide. “And you think they’re here?”

  “We need to check.” Doubt crept around Stella’s gut as she showed him the search warrant.

  “All right.” He rousted the patients. They gathered in the lobby while the police did a quick sweep of all the rooms. The basement was full of boxes and junk. No people.

  “Are there any outbuildings?” Stella asked Reilly.

  “No.” Reilly shook his head. “Everything is kept in the basement. Why did you think they were here?”

  “Someone is abducting and killing drug addicts. We know about what happened to you in Atlanta.”

  “You thought it was me?” Reilly reeled. He backed up to the wall. “I could never hurt anyone. Not after what I’ve been through. I came all the way up here to get away from those violent memories.”

  Which Stella had just handed back to him. “I’m sorry.”

  She paced the lobby, panic overriding her pity. If it wasn’t Reilly, then who?

  Her gaze landed on a bulletin board. A notice on yellow paper read, “Free Group Session, Thursday night, 10 p.m., Our Lady of Sorrows.”

  And suddenly she knew. All the pieces fell into place. “Where does Dr. Randolph live?”

  “Why?” Horner asked.

  “Because it’s him. Missy and Dena were his patients. He knew everything about them.” Stella walked to the bulletin board and put a fist on the yellow notice. “And if he offered free counseling to NA members after their meetings, he could have worked with Gianna as well.”

  Horner’s gaze landed on the flyer. “But why?”

  “It has to be connected to his brother.” Stella turned away from the bulletin board. Everything in her gut said she was right. But Randolph wasn’t holding Gianna and Mac prisoner at the center, so where were they? “Reilly, where is Randolph’s house?”

  “Across the lake.” Reilly said. “The access road is just past the driveway for the center. You can’t miss it.”

  “You two stay here and keep an eye on him, just in case.” Stella pointed to two officers. “Everyone else, let’s go.”

  Racing for her car, she said a quick and silent prayer.

  Please let them be alive.

  Panic slammed inside Mac’s throat, a blind, feral animal seeking to escape. He moved his fingers, but his muscle control hadn’t returned quickly enough. He was immobilized. He yanked at the handcuffs that attached his wrists to the rails on either side of the gurney. His ankles were tied down with leather straps that looked like they’d come out of a horror movie set in a psychiatric hospital.

  That wasn’t too far off.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Mac turned his head and shock numbed him for a few seconds.

  Josh Randolph walked around a growing puddle to stand a few feet from the gurney, as if he was afraid to come closer.

  Smart man.

  Mac let anger kill his shock and fear. His rage roiled, wild and snapping as a caged beast. He was going to kill Josh. He didn’t know how, but it was going to happen. If necessary, he’d rip the man’s throat out with his teeth.

  “I think we’d better work on your attitude.” Josh raised the Taser and fired.

  The prongs hit Mac dead center in the chest. Electricity ripped through him and tore him apart. His body seized, the muscles simultaneously frozen and on fire. It eased off, and Mac’s muscles were left twitching.

  He gritted his teeth and forced words through his shaking lips. “Fuck you.”

  Josh’s fr
own was uncertain. “You are resilient.”

  He squeezed the trigger again. The current made Mac’s body jump to artificial life, as if Dr. Frankenstein had thrown the switch. Mac’s body jolted on the gurney. When Josh lowered the Taser, Mac’s body convulsed with the remnants of its charge.

  A minute passed before he unclenched his molars. “I’m going to kill you.”

  Josh smiled. “I knew you were The One.”

  What. The. Hell?

  Mac swallowed. It felt like broken glass moved down the inside of his throat. “What are you talking about?”

  “You are The One. Truly redeemed.” He set down the Taser and clasped his hands together. “We have a few more tests, but I knew you were special.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  Josh grabbed his tray and rolled it toward the gurney. Water splashed around the wheels. The puddle had grown, covering most of the floor several inches deep.

  “Your basement is flooding.” Mac lifted his head. His neck muscles protested. “The lake is rising.”

  But Josh’s eyes were glazed, as if he were lost in his own imagination.

  He lifted a scalpel from the tray, his eyes hyper-focused on Mac. “We’ll start with the physical test. It’s redundant based on the fact that you’ve been walking around with a bullet wound, but I have to keep my experiments consistent. The physical pain test is first. I’ve designed each subject’s test for their specific background. Missy cut herself, so I used a knife on her. Dena let her husband break her bones, so breaking her fingers seemed appropriate. You are a bit more complicated. I’ll have to try both.”

  Mac tried to slide away from the blade, but the restraints held him fast.

  Josh drew the blade over the skin on Mac’s arm. With his adrenaline running on high, Mac barely felt the slice. A quick burn, then nothing. Blood flowed over his skin in a thin river.

  “No screaming?” Josh all but clapped with glee as he picked up a hammer.

  Knowing what was coming, Mac clenched his fist, but Josh hit him with another short Taser jolt. Mac’s hands tightened until his fingers dug into his palms. The electricity abandoned him, and his muscles went involuntarily lax.

  Josh stretched out his fingers and brought the hammer down. This was no clean sharp blade, and pain exploded through Mac’s hand. His jaw clamped, his molars coming together with a brain-rattling snap of teeth that caught his tongue. Blood flooded his mouth.

  Josh held up a syringe. “I can end all that pain right now.”

  “What is that?”

  “Heroin.” Josh said it like he was offering candy to a child. “No more pain, Mac.”

  Real terror spread like a brushfire through Mac’s body. Injuries to his body would heal. But addiction never ended. He couldn’t go down that road again. He’d rather die.

  “Fuck you.” Blood flew from his mouth as he spat out the words.

  A crazy-ass grin spread across Josh’s face. “I knew it. I can’t believe it took me this long to figure out what I was doing wrong.”

  “What are you talking about? Is this about your brother?”

  “I’ve been studying addiction for years, and every single person I’ve treated has had a relapse at some point. Take Gary Simmons. We talked about him, remember?”

  “The news anchor?”

  Josh smiled as if he was a teacher and Mac his star pupil. “Yes. My brother only killed himself, but Gary killed a whole family of innocents. Addiction is a time bomb. Eventually every addict is going to blow up. I’ve been looking for The One person who has truly beaten addiction. So far, every subject I’ve tested has failed.”

  He set the syringe on the tray. Relief spread through Mac at an embarrassing rate. His hand throbbed, every beat of his heart slamming him with a bolt of pain. Relaxing, he breathed and let the pain flow, accepting it. The heat spread up his arm and invaded his shoulder.

  “But there’s one more test.” Josh swiped his fingers across an electronic tablet. He held it out so Mac could see the screen.

  Gianna.

  And Mac knew exactly what Josh was planning: a no-win situation for Mac. Josh didn’t want to find The One person who had beaten addiction. He wanted to kill.

  Josh shook his head. “She’s not doing very well. I expect the toxins are building up in her bloodstream.”

  The girl’s body was tinted green with a night vision light. She stood in front of the door, her fists raised as she beat on the wood. Water lapped around her knees. The part of the basement in which she was being held prisoner must be lower than the room Mac was in. As he watched, the water rose past her knees. God, it was pouring in. How quickly would the room fill?

  “Let her go,” Mac tried. “She hasn’t done anything. She’s sick.”

  “Maybe we can come to an agreement.” Josh raised the syringe. “You take this, and I’ll leave her outside the ER. She hasn’t seen my face. She doesn’t know who I am.”

  Mac felt defeat flowing over him. The pain in his hand slipped away. “How do I know you’ll actually do it?”

  Josh looked offended. “I always keep my word. Why would you even question my offer?”

  “Because you’re a psycho killer?”

  “I assure you,” Josh gave him a condescending, fuck you smile, “There’s a method to what seems like madness.”

  “Let me guess. That’s a fatal dose of heroin.”

  “It is,” Josh said as if the conclusion was inevitable.

  “Why go to all this trouble?”

  “The fallen have to be punished,” Josh said simply. “They have to be stopped. We both know there’s no such thing as a recovered addict. Sobriety is a temporary status. I used to be optimistic. I thought I could save people from themselves. But Gary’s relapse made me realize how dangerous addicts are. Anyone who fails my test needs to be culled from society like a diseased animal. Sooner or later, you’ll all relapse, and when you do, you’ll hurt someone else. The decision is yours.”

  “But you’re not giving me a choice.” Mac argued in an attempt to stall for time.

  “There’s always a choice.” Josh’s attitude turned pissy, as if he was tired of explaining himself to an intellectual inferior.

  “My choice is to sacrifice an innocent girl to save myself. Hardly heroic,” Mac pointed out.

  “Your integrity should trump all.” Josh lifted both hands. “She isn’t worth your life. She’s one of the fallen. Her life is misery, hardly worth sacrificing yours to preserve.”

  “Says you.” Mac turned the discussion around. “Is this about your brother?”

  Josh’s eyes went icicle. “My brother was perfect until she cast him in her spell. Sex and drugs were his end. She was supposed to be recovered, but obviously she wasn’t. There’s no such thing.”

  “She?” Mac slipped his first two fingers into his front pants’ pocket. Did he have one of Stella’s hairpins? Please. Please. Please.

  “Lucas’s girlfriend.” Josh spit out the words like venom. “She dragged him into her sordid life. She ruined him. My brother was weak, and he followed that whore right into hell.” Josh reached for the needle again. Victory shone like insanity in his eyes.

  Mac’s fingers closed on a thin slip of metal. He drew it out slowly, holding it between the pads of his fingertips. Carefully he drew it onto the gurney at his side.

  Josh was focused on the tablet. “Just like this piece of trash.”

  Mac knew Josh wasn’t seeing Gianna. He was envisioning his brother’s girlfriend standing thigh-deep in the flooded cell. Josh was beyond reason. Mac inserted the hairpin into the handcuff lock. The angle was tricky, and he had to pick the lock blind and one-handed. If he moved his gaze, Josh might notice.

  This was Mac’s sole chance of escape.

  His only hope to save Gianna.

  The lock gave with a thin click.

  Josh froze. His head cocked and turned slowly toward Mac.

  Oh shit.

  Mac yanked his hand free. He snatched the knife from the
rolling table and cut the leather straps around his ankles, but the blade was useless on the handcuffs. Josh dropped the tablet and lunged toward him. Grabbing Josh’s shirtfront with his freed hand, Mac slammed his forehead against the bridge of Josh’s nose. Bone crunched and blood flowed. Josh stumbled back, both hands covering his face.

  The remaining cuff rattled on his wrist. He’d dropped the hairpin. Mac searched the bedding, but it was gone.

  Josh staggered across the room and reached for the Taser.

  He was going to kill Mac and let Gianna drown.

  Mac yanked on the handcuffs. He searched the gurney but couldn’t find the hairpin.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Josh had the Taser. Mac stretched out an arm, snatched the knife from the rolling tray, and threw it at Josh. The point struck him in the bicep. The Taser fell from his hand and hit the water with a splash.

  Mac grabbed the handrail of the gurney. Dragging it behind him, he plowed toward Josh. The doctor turned and fled toward a rear doorway.

  The water rose above Mac’s knees. How deep was the flood in Gianna’s cell? He didn’t have much time. He couldn’t let her drown, trapped. He pictured her tilting her head to the ceiling for a last breath of air, imagined the panic whirling in her chest as water closed over her head, her eyes shining with terror.

  No!

  He plunged his free hand into the water, the futility of finding a hairpin in two feet of water sent fear surging cold into his throat.

  Leaning on the door, Gianna shivered. Her hands ached from banging on the wood, and she could feel the bruises forming all over her body. He hadn’t touched her since bringing her here and locking her in. He hadn’t had to. Zapping her with that Taser had pretty much tapped her strength.

  “Let me out of here you sick son-of-a-bitch.” She pounded on the door, her face turned toward the ceiling-mounted camera.

  He was watching.

  Watching the water rise.

  Letting her drown.

  Nausea rose in her throat. Dena and Missy had both been murdered, and she was the next victim. If the water kept rising at this rate, her cell would be full in minutes.

  Frustration burned in her chest. It wasn’t fair. Not after all she’d been through. Two years ago she hadn’t cared if she lived or died. Now that she actually had a will to live, some bastard wanted to kill her.