Faces of Evil [2] Impulse (17 page)

“You need coffee? I’m on my second pot.”

Man, she was in a generous mood. He was almost afraid to breathe since one wrong move or word could awaken her I-hate-your-sorry-ass attitude. “No, thank you. I’d just like to sit with Chester for a few minutes if that’s okay. I won’t wake him.”

“Sure.” Sherry closed and locked the front door. “Stay as long as you like.”

So, maybe he was hallucinating. He stared at her a moment just to be sure before turning away.

She stopped him when he started down the hall. “Chet, are you sure you’re okay?”

He managed a nod. “Just a tough case,” he repeated.

“Understood.”

She headed back to the kitchen and he walked quietly up the stairs. Chester’s room was the first on the right. The door was ajar. He didn’t like it to be closed all the way. The kid was still afraid of the dark.

Chet eased the door open and entered his son’s world of Shrek and Spiderman. A nightlight glowed, providing just enough illumination to chase away the unknown lurking in the darkness. Chet stood at his son’s bedside for a long time, watching him breathe, his dark hair sticking up from the tossing and turning he’d obviously done before surrendering to sleep. Chet wouldn’t smooth his hair for fear of waking him. Chester was about ready for a trip to the barber shop and his first real haircut, not the little trims his mother gave him. Chet would take him where his father had taken him as a boy.

He wanted everything for his son. Not mountains of toys and gadgets, but happiness and a safe home. He had learned the past two years that those two things were all that really mattered.

But there were so many evil bastards out there like the one who had taken Lori. Was there such a thing as a safe life anymore? Could he possibly hope to protect his son?

He sure as hell hadn’t protected Lori.

Like she would have allowed him to protect her. Chet smiled at that, his lips quivering in spite of his best efforts to be strong. Lori would kick him in the ass and tell him she could protect herself. All she needed was a little back-up.

His jaw clenched, he would find a way to give her that back-up.

Hang on, baby
.

He moved quietly to the rocking chair in the corner. The same one they had used to rock Chester when he was a baby. Eventually it would have to go. The older the boy got the more independent he became.

The natural course of life.

Chet lowered into the rocker. His body – his soul – was so damned tired.

And he was terrified.

He knew plenty about this Player. . . this Eric Spears. But it hadn’t felt so damned real until he had seen the Howard woman sprawled on that bed, abused and defeated and far too close to death.

He’d seen victims in worse shape. The visible damage done to her was not so devastating in the scheme of things. And dead was dead, no matter the condition of the body. But knowing the man who had done those evil things to Belinda Howard had Lori. . . that was nearly more than Chet could bear.

As much as she fought getting involved with him, he knew she wanted to be with him. He’d felt it both times they had been together. She had stronger feelings for him than she wanted to admit.

God knew he had strong feelings for her.

He couldn’t lose her. He closed his eyes, tried to hold back the tears. What bad ass cop cried like this? He fought harder, his body trembling with the effort. The hot, salty affront came any way.

Then he prayed. He prayed for his son to be protected from evil. . . and he pleaded for Lori’s life. He prayed she would be strong. And that somehow she understood how very much he loved her.

Then he set the rocker in motion and he prayed for the relief sleep would bring.

11

Lori heard voices.

Wake up!

The fog was so thick she couldn’t find her way through it. She needed to swallow. Couldn’t. Her mouth felt so dry.

Open your eyes!

Lori moistened her lips. Wished for a drink of water. It was so hot. . . and stuffy. Made it hard to breathe.

Her lids cracked open the tiniest bit. She tried to open her eyes fully but the lids were too heavy to move. Her tongue felt thick. . . fuzzy.

Harsh words echoed around her.

Who was shouting? A man, she decided. But she couldn’t make herself care enough to force her eyes open. Why was he shouting?

Why couldn’t she wake up?

Images flooded her brain. . . the naked woman. . . blood. Her mother and sister bound and gagged. Her eyes flew open.

Her heart rammed against her ribcage. Warehouse. . . she stretched her right foot in a slow circle. . . chain.

Spears!

Her muscles bunched to push her body up from her face-down position on the grimy concrete floor.

She froze. Listened again to the voice or voices.

One by one she relaxed her muscles and slowed her breathing. She needed to assess the situation before she made Spears aware she had regained consciousness. She didn’t dare move until she had a handle on the situation.

“You’re always right, aren’t you?”

Spears’ voice
.

Who was he talking to?

“Whatever I do, it’s never good enough. Three years I’ve devoted to you and it’s not enough.”

Was he on the phone?

She would need to turn her head and face the other direction to see him. . . and whoever else was there. Not a risk she was willing to take just yet.

Listen, Lori
. Calm down. No sudden moves to draw attention. Was someone else here with Spears besides her and the dying woman? Another victim?

She didn’t know how long she had been asleep but the woman was probably dead by now. She’d lost too much blood. An ache pierced Lori’s chest. She had been helpless to provide any real assistance to the woman.

Get all the static out of your head! Just listen!

“She’s not listening!”

Lori’s heart stumbled to a near stop. Had she said that out loud? She moistened her lips again. She didn’t think so.
Lie still. . . lie perfectly still
.

“What else do you want me to do? Obviously I don’t yet have her full attention. But I will soon, you have my word. Yes, yes! This is my mess!”

She had to see who the hell he was talking to. The conversation sounded as if it was about Jess. He’d asked Lori if she thought he had Jess’s attention. Holding her breath, she started to move her head. . . one slow fraction at a time until she was facing the opposite direction.

She tensed. He had his back to her.

“You didn’t have a better plan,” he argued. “You’re angry because
I
took the lead.”

Whoever he was talking to, Spears was angry, his voice accusing. With his back turned to her, she dared to lift her head and look around. There was no one else. . . the crates and nothing else except the two chairs. Her gaze lit on the chair with the puddles of blood on either side.

Where was the woman?

Lori’s heart started to race.

“Yes,” Spears roared. “I will make it happen.”

Lori dropped her head back to the floor and froze.

He started to pace.

She didn’t dare keep her eyes open more than a crack.

“No. I absolutely can do this.”

His hands were all over the place as he spoke. On his hips. Waving around in the air. Everywhere but holding a cell phone to his ear. But there was no one here. Who the hell was he talking to? Was he using a Bluetooth? She squinted to see if there was anything in or around his ear. Not on this side.

He turned to pace back the other way.

Nothing there either. At least nothing that she could see. Was he arguing with himself?

“I know what I have to do and I
will
do it.” He stopped. Exhaled a big breath. “You see? You’re not good enough and he knows it.” He kicked one of the chairs.

Lori jerked as it skidded across the floor.

He seemed to compose himself for a moment. She couldn’t be sure about before, but he was definitely talking to himself now.

He calmly removed his suit jacket, folded it neatly and placed it on one of the crates. He braced his hands on his hips and stared at the chair where the woman had been before he sent Lori off to la-la land.

Then he faced her.

She shut her eyes.

Too late! Too late!
a voice in her head screamed.

“Ah someone’s awake.” He walked toward her, each step sending her heart rate climbing higher and higher. “Don’t try to fool me, Lori Doodle. I know you’re awake.”

She didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t open her eyes.

He crouched down, denim rubbed against denim. “Were you listening to my conversation?”

Don’t react. Maybe he would think he had imagined her eyes closing.

He fisted his fingers in her hair and jerked her head up. “I’m speaking to you, detective,” he screamed in her ear.

She ignored him. Didn’t even flinch.

He stood, dragging her up with him. Strong fingers clamped down on her bare upper arms and shook her hard. “Do not ignore me!” he roared.

Like a rag doll, she hung limply in his hold, let her head loll to one side.

He shook her again, harder. “Pay attention, bitch!”

She kneed him hard in the groin.

His hands dropped away from her as he doubled over.

She kneed him in the head. Knocked him onto the floor. She kicked him in the gut. In the back. “Mother fucker,” she growled as she kicked him again.

He grabbed her foot and jerked.

Lori lost her balance and hit the concrete floor flat on her back. The air whooshed out of her lungs.

He scrambled to get on top of her. She got a choke-hold on his throat with both hands. Curled her legs up to keep his body weight off hers.

They rolled. The chain rattled. Twisted up in her legs. He banged her head against the floor. She twisted her face to the right, clamped down on his forearm with her teeth.

He screamed and cursed.

She belted him in the jaw, shoved both hands into his chest. He toppled over. She was on top now. Her hands around his throat, she squeezed and pressed with all her strength. . . all her body weight.

He flung her off. Shot to his feet before she could get up. He kicked her in the ribs.

Her stomach seized. . . she lost her breath again. He sat down on top of her, his legs on either side of her waist, pinning her arms to her side. She squirmed. He bore his weight into her middle. Bile rushed into her throat.

She surrendered. Too tired to fight anymore. He was too heavy. . . too strong.

“Why isn’t Jess paying attention?” he demanded.

She licked her lips. Tried to catch her breath. She wasn’t answering his stupid questions.

“Answer me!” His scream echoed in the massive room.

She managed a pathetic laugh. “Fuck you.”

He rammed his fingers into her hair and banged her head against the floor. “Why. . . isn’t. . . she. . . paying. . . attention?”

She stared straight into his eyes and repeated, “Fuck. . . you.”

The back of his hand connected with her jaw. Her head snapped to the left and more pain roared through her skull.

“Answer the question, detective.”

She licked the blood from her lips and said nothing.

He dragged down the straps of her bra. She tensed.

He squeezed her breasts.

Hard as she tried not to react, she felt her eyes widen with the fear of what he might do next.

He smiled, took a deep breath. “You’re making me hard, detective.” As if to back up his words, he ground his pelvis into her.

White hot rage crashed into her brain obliterating all else. “Why don’t you just go ahead and kill me, you sick bastard?”

He smiled. “You know I can’t do that, detective.” He squeezed his thighs tighter as he leaned forward. His fingers fisted in her hair, he kept her head pressed against the floor. “If I do, Jess will never come play with me. You’re my bait.”

Lori struggled to turn her face away from his.

“I guess I’ll just have to send her another message. I think she’ll pay attention this time. She certainly has
my
attention.” He pressed his face closer to Lori’s. “She sent me a message, detective. Jess told me to man up. Can you imagine?” He released her hair, held his arms out in question. “What else does she want me to do to prove myself?”

The woman
. Lori glared at him. “Where’s the other woman?”

He smiled. “She should be dead.” He sighed. “However, I may have underestimated the ability of her heart to continue beating after losing so very much blood.” He shrugged. “Bless her
heart
, she just didn’t want to die.”

“You’re a sick piece of shit.”

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but your unkind words can’t hurt me, Lori Doodle,” he singsonged in a creepy child-like tone.

He inclined his head to the right and studied her a moment, then cocked it the other way. “I have another question for you, detective.”

She clenched her teeth. She would die before she helped this son of a bitch.

“When the lungs are deprived of oxygen, do you know how long it takes for a woman of your age and physical condition to lose consciousness and subsequently expire?”

Her body tensed, but she refused to allow him to see any other reaction to the threat.

He waited a moment. When she didn’t answer, he sighed. “I suppose not.”

His hand closed over her mouth and nose.

Fear ignited.

“Let’s find out.”

12

BPD, 10:00 a.m.

Dan surveyed the group seated around the conference table in his office. He and Deputy Chief Black had already briefed the mayor. The leaders of the task force waited now for him to continue with what they didn’t have.

No hits on the prints. No traceable evidence to anyone at any scene who wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Belinda Howard was in no condition to tell us much last night. However, this morning she gave a somewhat sketchy statement to Agent Gant and Chief Black.”

“Did she identify her abductor?” Harper asked.