Baby Girl Doe (Stephanie Chalice Thrillers Book 5) (24 page)

Both glasses of water slipped through my hands and shattered on the tile floor.
The spoon I had dropped on the table was curling up. My mind refused to accept what I was seeing. A long moment passed before I noticed that someone was standing in the kitchen doorway.
The door,
I thought
. Christ, Margo left it open.

“Raven?” Margo’s face was ashen white. Somehow she knew that the woman standing in front of her holding a gun was the little girl she had cared for at the underground military installation.

Prescott looked as if he had seen a ghost. An expression of incredulity was chiseled into his face. His hands began to tremble.

“Raven,” I began in a soothing voice. “Please put the gun down.” I could see that she was visibly shaken—who could blame her after the confession she must have overheard? She no longer looked like the hotshot realtor she had portrayed to Gus and me a week earlier. She was dressed like a man in jeans and sneakers with her hair up in a baseball cap. She looked like a broken little girl playing dress-up, the very last person I wanted to see holding a gun.

“How long have you been standing there?”

Margo stood.

Raven whipped the gun in her direction.

“Sit down,” Raven ordered and took turns pointing the gun at each of us. I could see that she was not real comfortable with a gun in her hand. Bullets were not her MO. Poison was more her thing—drop something in a glass and wait for the victim’s heart to stop. It was slower, but she didn’t have to see the internal organs turning into mush, and was spared the devastating impact that occurred when a bullet struck and ruptured flesh and blood. I suspected that death by gunshot was far too violent and instantaneous for her—Most were unprepared for that level of extreme horror. Yes, even a serial murderer like Raven Gallagher.

“I heard it all,” Raven said. The gun began to shake in her hand.

“Raven please put the gun down,” I repeated. “You don’t want it to discharge accidentally.”

My logic must’ve appealed to her on some level but instead of lowering the gun as I had hoped, she brought her left hand up to steady the one which was shaking.

Prescott was frozen. His mouth was open, and his gaze was fixed on his daughter.

Margo was still crying. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” she said. “I tried to stop them from putting you in that foster home, but—”

“I came here to kill you,” Raven shouted at Margo. “I killed my father for being such a worm, and I came here to kill you for putting me into foster care and turning your back on me.” Tears began to drizzle down her cheek. “You were all I had, Margo. You were everything to me.” She aimed the gun at Prescott. “But I can’t blame her, can I? Not when this is all on
you
. I killed my father because of you. I waited years because I pitied him, but it was you who took everything away from him . . . his wife, his children, and his self-respect. My father loved me in spite of all he suffered through, and I never even knew it.
You’re
the one who turned him into an empty shell. So many people have died because of the way my life turned out, but they really died because of
you
.” She turned the gun around, the barrel just inches from her face. Her hands were trembling and out of control as she pulled back the hammer. “May God forgive me.” She closed her eyes and steadied her thumb on the trigger.

“Raven,” I pleaded. “Put the gun—”

Prescott leaped from his chair, his arms outstretched, reaching for the gun. She had hesitated just long enough for her father to grab the weapon before it discharged. The gun fired as they tumbled to the floor together and came to rest on it, motionless with blood pooling beneath them.

No wonder she wanted to be someone else, anyone else.
Oh my God, that’s what this is all about. The other girls: Alana, Sarah, and Camryn—she was living their lives because anyone else’s life was better than hers.

She killed Alana and became her, and then she killed Sarah and became her, and then . . . I think she even masqueraded as her brother Ray. Neither Gus nor I had ever seen him closer than from the top of a two-story ladder with a hat pulled down over his face, and Pulaski reported that there was no record of anyone named Raiden Claymore living or dead. My guess was that Joshua Dane was the one who actually died in the car fire, because Raven needed to kill off the character of Ray Claymore, a brother who had never truly existed. It appeared that she was tying up loose ends. The question was, why now? Why after all of these years?

One bullet discharged, two people down. A single bullet had gone through her jawbone and cheek before entering her father’s skull. She had taken the life of the man who had given life to her, the man who had sent her on a lifelong journey of torment, loneliness, and suffering.

EMS techs had packed her jaw so that she could travel, but I could see that her open mouth was hanging askew and limp. She had passed out and was still unconscious when the EMS techs carried her out of Margo’s house. I was in the EMS van, hoping that she would regain consciousness, hoping she’d come to soon and tell me where my Gus . . .

My cell phone rang. “Herb? I can barely hear you.”

He raised the level of his voice substantially. “I’m underground,” he said. “At Camp Hero.” I thought the signal was lost, but it was just an uncomfortable pause. “Gus isn’t here, Stephanie.” He sounded disappointed, disconsolate, and beaten. “We’ve searched every square inch of the complex.”

“We’ve got Raven. She tried to take her own life, and we’re on our way to the hospital.”

“Raven? You’re with her?”

“Yes. It’s a long story.”

“Did she talk?”

“Not about Gus. I’m hoping she’ll regain consciousness.”

“Shit! Which hospital? I’ll come right away.”

I called to the EMS driver, “Where are you taking her?”

“Southampton Hospital,” the driver replied. “We’re less than a minute away.”

“You heard?” I said into the phone.

“On my way,” Ambler said. “Call me the moment she comes to.”

Ambler was in a full run when he caught up with me in the hospital waiting room.
“Is she awake?” He was panting as he asked, but his face already bore a look of disappointment. He knew that I wouldn’t still be hanging around the hospital if I had discovered Gus’ whereabouts.

“She actually did come around for a moment but passed out again as soon as she tried to speak. Her jaw is shattered.”

“So we wait.”

“Yes.” I began to mist up. I hadn’t been able to hold my husband in days and was praying to God that he was still alive. Herb was one of the few people I could allow to see me with my guard down. I buried my head on his shoulder. “Hold me, Herb. I’m scared to death.”

“Hey!” He shook me. “We’ve got this. I know we have to wait, but she’ll come out of surgery, and then we’ll know where Gus is being held.”

“God, I hope so. I’ll die without him.”

“Hey!” he said forcefully. “No one’s going to die! Now show me what you’re made of, damn it.” He lifted my chin and stared at me with unwavering confidence. “Take a moment and then get your shit together. You can go to pieces after Gus is safe and sound, all right?”

I nodded.

“Good.” He looked around. “Where can I get a cold-friggin’ drink?” He looked past me and must’ve seen a vending machine. “Sit down. I’ll be right back.”

I found a chair, sat down, and took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves.
In and out. In and out.
My phone rang, but my mind was a million miles away. The call was just about to go to voicemail when I finally reacted to it. “Hello.”

“Chalice, it’s me. Sully.”

“Sully? You have news?”

“No time for details. I’m at the Westlake Marina in Montauk. I think your husband may be here. I followed two guys here last night. One of them left a couple of hours ago, but the other one’s still aboard a yacht, a Carver C40 named
Cornucopia
.”

“And you think—”

“I was out having a drink last night when these two young guys came in. The bar was dark so I suppose the dim light and alcohol made them feel at ease and they got a little loud. It didn’t take me long to realize that they both sounded like girls. I moved in for a closer look and noticed that they both had that transgender tattoo on the back of their necks. This is going to sound crazy but one of them looked like that foster kid I questioned years back, Raven Gallagher, the one I most suspected of killing my aunt. Anyway I followed them to the yacht. How long before you can get down here?”

“Montauk? Damn it. I’m about an hour away.”

“Well, call the cavalry and haul ass, Chalice. I don’t how much longer this one will stay put or when the other one will return.”

“The other one’s not coming back,” I said.

“What?” Sully asked. “How do you know?”

Now I understood why Raven had shown up at Margo’s home dressed like a guy. I’m sure that she expected Margo to be alone when she came to kill her. If witnesses saw her, they would report they saw a man coming and going from Margo’s house.

“I just do,” I said to save time.

Ambler was on his way back, holding two cans of soda.

“Hold on,” I said to Sully. “Herb,” I called out. “Can you get a chopper out here PDQ?”

Ambler saw that the light was back in my eyes. He nodded eagerly.

“Stay put, Sully,” I said into the phone. “I’m on my way.”

At one hundred twenty knots air speed, it took less than fifteen minutes for the FBI chopper to cover the thirty-mile stretch from South Hampton to Montauk, cutting thirty to forty minutes off our travel time had we taken a car along the congested two-lane Montauk Highway.

We were high enough for me to see both land and sea as we flew east along the South Fork. There was no question that tactical forces were racing toward Montauk. Law Enforcement vehicles of every description were speeding east along Montauk Highway with their lights on and sirens screaming.

As we hovered over the Marina, I could see that policemen had been posted strategically around the area. A SWAT van was pulling up to the marina just as we arrived. Sharpshooters poured out of the van and took positions as directed by their commanding officer.

It was hard for me to accept that Gus was being held captive by someone as diminutive as Kaley Struthers. To me, that meant Gus had been drugged or the two women had not acted alone. Either or both were possible. Neither mattered at the moment. The only thing that counted was that we would find Gus unharmed in the yacht below us. I was looking beyond the moment of rescue, and in my mind, he was already back in my arms.

To the untrained eye, it might’ve seemed that nothing was going on, but that was not the case. I knew how these rescues worked. The commanding officers were discussing strategy and the coordination of each police unit. It was slow and steady all the way, as they would do nothing to risk Gus’ safety. Ambler and I waited patiently in our perch in the sky as police boats filed into the marina, preventing the possibility of the yacht escaping by sea.

I heard the voice of the officer in charge thundering over the bullhorn, “Ahoy,
Cornucopia
. This is the Suffolk County Police Department. You are surrounded. Come out with your hands up.”

Within moments, Kaley appeared on the deck with her hands up in the air. We were close enough to see that she was trembling. In an instant, she was surrounded by police officers and then the rest of the tactical team boarded the boat.

My heart was pounding wildly in anticipation of seeing Gus appear on deck. It seemed like an eternity from the time the yacht was boarded until an officer surfaced from within. He shook his head in an exaggerated manner and my heart sank. Gus was not aboard.

Kaley’s head dropped as I approached the police car she was locked within.
I was so furious that I wanted to reach through the window and strangle her with my bare hands. I tried to control myself, but I couldn’t. “Kaley! Where is my husband? Where is Gus?” She actually shuddered from the intensity of my voice. “Hey! I asked you a question.”

Ambler was by my side. “Easy,” he said. “She’s scared to death. Take it down a notch. You know,” he whispered, “more flies with honey. . . ”

A crime scene officer rushed toward us holding a Ziploc bag. It contained small syringes marked 3/10 mL/cc, and a bottle of etorphine.

My eyes widened and my nostrils flared as I read the label. Without thinking, I reached for Kaley’s neck. “Animal tranquilizer? You used animal tranquilizer on my husband?” I was still screaming as Ambler yanked me away from the police car. I heard Kaley retching from inside the car.

“She’ll talk, Chalice,” Ambler said. “You’ve got her so scared, she can’t breathe.”

“Etorphine, Herb? It’s fatal to humans.” A lump formed in my throat, and I began to mist up, fearing that Gus’ abduction had become something much worse, something irreversible. “He could be dead, Herb. He could be—”

“It’s only fatal when used full strength. You saw the tiny syringes. That’s the only way two women were able to handle Gus. They must have crept up behind him and dosed him with a small amount of fast-acting tranquilizer. I’m sure of it.”

“Are you?” I cried with contempt. I tried but I couldn’t find my humility. It just wasn’t there. “
Fine.”
I said with disgust
.
“You talk to her.”

“Thanks,” Ambler said. “Give me a minute.”

I walked a few paces away and was within earshot but unable to hear what Ambler was saying to her. I was desperate and unable to control the way I felt. It seemed as if Ambler was talking to her forever, but in reality, only a few minutes had passed. “It’s Raven’s brother,” Ambler said. “He’s got Gus.”

“What brother?” I asked, frantically. “There is no brother.”

“There is,” Ambler said assertively. “There is.”