Authors: R. E. Bradshaw
Right now, all Rainey had was circumstantial evidence. She could not call in the troops on a hunch. She could, however, gather more information and she knew just how to get it. She slipped the firearm in her jacket and pulled out her phone, speed-dialed a familiar number, and waited for Brooks to answer.
“Girl, I hope you have some expensive bourbon at your house, ‘cause I’m going to need a drink, make that a bottle, after this.”
“I do. I’ll even put a nipple on it,” Rainey answered, and then got right to her point. “I need everything you can find on a Vance Wayne. He is the son of John and Virginia Afton Wayne, both deceased. I can send you the parents’ address. The property is tied up in probate court. I know Vance is divorced, has a son, and was denied the right to see his child about three years ago.”
“I’m going to totally ignore the humor in his father’s name, because the rest of it sounds like the preliminary profile the team just gave the task force. Give me a sec, and I’ll get right back to you with all things Vance Wayne. Send me the address. Bye.”
A click and Brooks was gone. Rainey sent the address and then said to the colonel, “Just because this guy fits the profile does not mean he is the UNSUB. There are plenty of narcissistic momma’s boys out there that never commit a serious crime. We need evidence.”
The colonel pulled the car to a stop, the headlights illuminating two garage bay doors and a single door at the far left end of the forty-year-old cement block building. The bay doors had three horizontal windows each, allowing the lights to penetrate the dark interior.
“Something like that,” he said, pointing out the windshield.
Rainey peered through the windows of the door on the right at the cab of a red pickup truck, but she thought the colonel was probably more interested in the hangman’s noose dangling over the truck bed.
“Yep, that’s looking like probable cause,” she said.
The colonel shut the engine off and doused the headlights. They sat quietly for a moment, taking in the surroundings. Nothing moved, the building was dark again, but if Vance Wayne were just a few feet into the woods, they would never see him.
“Okay, let’s go see what we can tell from outside the building,” Rainey suggested.
They exited the car together, closing the doors softly. Rainey pulled the M-9 and her flashlight from her jacket pockets. She took the weapon off safety and gripped it at her side, while trailing the beam from her flashlight on the ground in front of her.
“Someone’s been driving in and out of that bay on the left,” she said, “and very recently. The dew settled earlier this evening, but these tracks have moisture on either side of them.” She pointed the beam of her flashlight at the concrete under the bay door. “Look, his tires left wet sand under the door. He was here within the last two hours.”
They approached the garage door concealing the truck. The colonel was tall enough to look down through the glass at the tailgate, but it was so close to the door, he could not see it. Rainey studied the hangman’s noose with her flashlight and then trailed the beam through the garage. It was a typical two bay mechanic’s garage, with tools hanging on the walls and scattered on workbenches. The larger trappings of the trade—torches, lifts, compressors, and the like—were pushed up against the wall, allowing plenty of space for two cars. The smell of fuel and oil hung in the air.
The sound of a compressor kicking on startled both Rainey and the colonel into defensive positions. It was several seconds before she realized the sound was coming from outside the building, around back. She motioned the colonel to follow her, and then slipped around the corner, sweeping the area with the beam of her flashlight and the barrel of her weapon. Seeing nothing, she continued to the rear of the building, cautiously turning the corner to find the source of the noise. A fairly new heating unit whirred away, pumping air into the garage. The ground behind the building was covered with old fifty-gallon drums and car parts. The shiny new heater looked out of place. Rainey was about to comment to the colonel, when she realized he was not behind her, and at the same time heard wood splinter at the front of the garage.
“Dammit.”
She ran toward the sound, catching a glimpse of the colonel entering the now opened door at the far left end of the building.
#
Bladen ran to turn off the lights. She needed the element of surprise. She had not heard his car door slam shut, but something loud just happened above her. After trashing the place, Bladen had searched for weapons she could use to overpower him, or at least inflict some serious damage. She found a hospital scrub shirt folded in the bottom drawer of his desk and put it on, then assembled her arsenal.
Bladen gathered pieces of the rope she cut earlier, tying enough together to create a tool belt of sorts. Carefully crafted leather loops, made from parts of the whip and the rack restraints, held the little pocketknife, a pair of scissors she found, and the stake she made with the wire brush handle, which she had spent some time sharpening to a fine point. She also had the handcuffs tucked into the belt and several lengths of chain at her feet. She modified the bleach bottle, cutting away a portion of the top and one side, which would enable her to throw the blinding liquid at his face upon his entrance.
Prepared to fight to the death, Bladen crouched in the darkness near the door, gripped the bottle of bleach with both hands, and waited.
#
Several things happened all at once. Rainey stepped into the garage, her phone rang, and the colonel shouted. “It’s the truck. It’s him.”
Rainey dug in her pocket for the phone, while she crossed the empty bay, joining the colonel at the back of a Vermillion Red pickup truck with a deep gouge in its tailgate.
She saw Brooks’s number on the caller ID and answered, already spewing information, “We found the truck. It’s at the address I sent you. There’s a burned out house by the road. Tell them to follow the path into the woods about a hundred yards. He’s not here now, but he’s been here recently.”
“Okay, I got all that, but you should know, this guy is a nurse at Memorial Hospital.” Brooks paused, which cranked Rainey’s already thumping heart into high gear. “Katie, rather the women’s shelter, has a protection order against this guy, and so do his ex-wife, his brother, and the owner of the farm next door.”
This was a complete surprise to Rainey. It appeared Katie thought there were some things Rainey did not need to know. At the moment, that was the least of Rainey’s worries.
“I have to call her. She’s at the hospital,” Rainey said, frantic to hang up.
“Hang on,” Brooks said. “Katie is in protective custody and being escorted home, where she and your children will be under armed guard for the duration of the investigation.”
Rainey sighed with relief. “Okay, I’m good with that.”
Brooks explained further, “That information you requested set off alarm bells out here. Danny asked that Vance Wayne be located and brought in for questioning. We tied the car in the lake to his father. He had a mechanic’s lean put on it back in the eighties—”
Danny’s frantic voice interrupted, “Get out of there, Rainey. He’s not at the hospital or his home. Units have been called to his ex-wife’s address. A child in distress on the 911 call says his dad killed his mom. Seems she called the tip line earlier, saying she thought her ex-husband was involved with the bodies we were finding. No one had a chance to talk to her yet, and she must have said something to him. He’s devolving at a rapid pace.”
Rainey saw the flash of headlights come through the bay door window and reflect off the back wall of the garage.
“It’s too late, Danny. He’s already here.”
“We’re on the way to you. Ten minutes out, tops. Stay on the phone,” Danny said, excitement elevating the pitch of his normal baritone.
Rainey watched a black Charger pull up behind the colonel’s car and stop, a single occupant behind the wheel. She started describing what she was seeing to Danny.
“He’s driving a Charger, typical law enforcement emulation. He’s stopped outside, just sitting in the car. When he comes in, I’m going to put the phone in my breast pocket. I might need both hands.”
She took another quick look around the garage, while the colonel watched Vance Wayne watch them.
“We’re in a mechanic’s garage. Bladen is not in sight, but something isn’t right. It’s cold in here, but there is a new heating unit running full blast out back. The truck is parked over a pit, like you find in oil changing setups.” She paused and flashed the light around the oil soaked walls of the pit. “There’s nothing in it but old oil.”
She focused on the electrical wiring, following the wires across the exposed beams to a box on the wall. She crossed to it quickly, trying to absorb as much information as she could before Vance Wayne made his entrance. Rainey opened the door on the fuse box.
“I’m at the electric service. It’s new, like the heater, and heavy duty, enough power for two buildings this size.”
The power outlets in the garage were connected to the cables coming from the top of the box. Heavy cables descended from the box down the wall behind a workbench. Rainey started pulling old oily car parts out of the way.
“There are power cables running into the floor, and there is a digital cable run as well.” Rainey placed her palm on the floor. “The floor is warm. There is a room under this building. She’s here, Danny. She’s under us.”
A car door slammed outside. “He’s coming,” the colonel said softly.
“Okay, Danny. You better get your ass here fast. I’m about to meet our boy face to face.”
Just as she pulled the phone away to drop it in her pocket, she heard Danny say, “Try not to kill him, Rainey.”
Vance Wayne stopped just outside the door and shouted into the building. “I got a shotgun on you. You might as well come on out. If I come through that door, I’m blowing everything in there to bits.”
Still down on the floor, Rainey held up her hand, signaling the colonel to let her speak. “Don’t shoot. I’m a fugitive recovery agent in search of a skipper. That’s his car out there. We tracked him back here and he took off through the woods. He’s the one that kicked the door in.”
She turned off her flashlight and leaned back into the shadows under the bench, keeping aim on the dark figure outside the door. The colonel’s silhouette was now crouched near the rear bumper of the truck and the steps leading down into the pit.
“Where’s your vehicle?” Vance asked.
She knew he was playing along. He knew exactly who she was and why she was there. Rainey was buying time for Danny and her rescuers, who were at this moment barreling toward her location.
“My partner took it. He’s circling around to see if the fugitive comes out on the other side of these woods. I stayed here, in case he came back for his car.”
When she heard his laughter, she knew the game was up. “That’s good, Agent Sexy. Thinking on your feet, but your partner is in the hospital surrounded by the rest of your staff. You’re alone in there with Patrick Asher. A rogue ex-federal agent and a distraught father, kicking in doors, breaking laws, anything to find a missing daughter.”
Rainey spoke softly into her jacket pocket, hoping Danny could hear her. “He’s dropped all pretense. This is the end game. Move your ass.”
The particular model of M-9 she held was a double-action weapon, requiring hammer cocking for the first round. Rainey slipped her thumb to the hammer and slowly lowered it until the lock clicked home, sounding like thunder in the silence of her hiding place. If she was going to shoot him, she needed a good reason, so she prodded him for one.
“So, what’s going to happen? Are you going to stand out there and wait for the cops to get here, or run for your life? DeBardeleben ran, you know. So did Ted, who actually turned out to be very afraid of dying. Schaefer turned himself in after two of his victims escaped. He thought he’d go free after a few years, but I think the guy who stabbed him to death in prison will be out sooner. BTK and Ridgway couldn’t wait to confess every detail. Or are you like Kemper? He called in crying, because no one even considered him for his crimes. Which one of your heroes do you choose to go out as?”
Vance took a step closer to the door. “The original Nightstalker was never caught.”
“Well, you’re not him, Vance. You shopped in one market, so to speak. The original Nightstalker moved around quite a bit. He also liked to make the husbands suffer the degradation of listening to him rape their wives. No, you’re no Nightstalker, Vance. You didn’t have the guts to enter a home occupied by a man.” Rainey laughed, adding, “Hell, you don’t even have a nickname. Maybe they’ll give you one for your trial. How about ‘The Impersonator,’ seeing as how you simply copied other people’s crimes.”
Vance did not grow angry. Instead, he remained calm and controlled, which was not a good sign. “There will be no trial, and they can call me what they want. I’ll be long gone before your friends get here, and so will you. You have exactly three minutes to make your peace with God.”
Above her head, on the underside of the workbench, a small green indicator light flashed on. Rainey clicked on her flashlight and saw the source of Vance Wayne’s confident claim.
She called out to the colonel. “He just started a timer on this bomb above my head. Get out, Colonel.”
“Lay down cover fire for me,” the colonel said. “Get him away from the door.”
Vance apparently heard the colonel’s directions and stepped to his left, taking him out of Rainey’s line of sight. She fired three shots out the door to make sure Vance could not focus on the colonel, who was running toward her. He slid on his knees, coming to rest beside her under the workbench.
“Rainey, find Bladen. I’ll deal with the explosives.”
#
Those were gunshots, Bladen was sure. She thought she heard muffled shouts, too. Someone was here, someone other than her captor. The thought crossed her mind that he may have just shot someone, but she had to take the chance that her rescuers were up there. Bladen put the bleach container on the floor, flipped on the lights, and found the thick piece of lumber she had ripped from the top of the pillory.