Hide My Thoughts: A Romantic Suspense Thriller Book (Hide Me Series 2) (11 page)

Katerina came awake slowly, like an exhausted mountain climber fighting hard for the last hundred feet to the summit. She looked at the clock. 5:13 a.m. She’d only slept for three hours. She closed her eyes to go back to sleep but an image in her mind kept poking at her. It was a picture of herself, fashioned into a mask. The mask that the two dead women had been wearing. Her awake thoughts started to swirl around the picture, joining her dream thoughts. Where exactly was this picture from? Was Dylan Phillips following her? Had he found it on the Internet somewhere? The question gripped her and suddenly seemed much more important than sleep. She lay perfectly still, listening to West’s deep, even breathing behind her, and concentrated on the picture in her mind. In it, her hair was down and looked windblown. She wasn’t smiling, in fact she looked upset. She wasn’t looking straight at the camera, but close. She may have been looking at the floor in front of the camera. The two masks had been cut so that the background behind her didn’t show, but as Katerina stared at the picture in her mind, it became clear that she could see a bit of the background through her hair. The background looked a strange kind of pale blue color, with a horizontal line running just under her ears. Or what looked like a line. It was on both sides of her, but she could only see small pieces of it through her hair.

Katerina laid awake, puzzling over where the picture could’ve been taken, long enough that she realized she had to go to the bathroom. She got up, phone in hand, and took care of it. She looked at herself in the mirror, still thinking about the picture. Not sure if she would be able to go back to sleep, she walked out to the kitchen, intending to get herself a cup of tea. The phone in her hand buzzed.

She looked at it. A message from Jordan. She smiled and swiped to unlock the phone, then froze, her mind unable to comprehend what she was seeing. Was this some sort of joke?

The message said simply:
Last chance. If you’re not out the door in twenty seconds, she dies. But first, she screams.

Katerina’s eyes flicked upwards at the previous messages from Jordan. A picture and some text. Ignoring the tortured whimper that was coming out of her mouth, she clicked on the picture.

A picture of Jordan filled her screen. Jordan in a dark room, tied to a chair, her head lolling on her shoulder, her eyes closed, her mouth open. An angry purple bruise covered her left temple and eye. Katerina stared at it, uncomprehending, and yet fully comprehending. Dylan Phillips had Jordan.

Frozen in place, she went back to the text message that had come in with the picture.

Lose the big firefighter. Don’t breathe a word to him. Don’t call the police. Get your keys and get in your car. I’ll be watching and listening. If you aren’t in your car, alone, within thirty seconds, she dies. If the firefighter leaves the apartment with you or after you, she dies. If I hear the police sent out, she dies.

Katerina pondered that last statement for a split second, and then she knew. She knew where the picture of her came from, and she knew who Dylan Phillips was. Not that it could save Jordan now. Only she could do that.

Katerina swallowed nervously and looked longingly down the hallway, but she knew she couldn’t. Even if she ran to the door she had been longer than twenty seconds already. And West would never let her go if he knew what was going on. But she had to go. Her best friend was not going to be the next on this psycho’s killed list, because of her. She was already responsible for enough dead women.

She snatched her keys and ran out of the apartment in her bare feet, closing the door softly so as not to wake West. She pounded down the concrete stairs and jumped in her car, then stared at her phone, her breath rasping in and out.

A text came almost immediately.

Good. Now drive. Turn left out of the parking lot. Keep your hands on the steering wheel. Don’t use your phone. I will text you in a few minutes. Ignore any calls that aren’t from me. Don’t call for help, or you know what happens.

She shuddered. He was watching her. And she was going to meet him face to face. But could she get Jordan out of this? Or was she just ensuring both of their deaths? She had to try. She didn’t care what happened to herself; she was tired, and just wanted to be done with this, one way or another. She would welcome death as long as Jordan didn’t suffer and die with her. She would tell him that too. She would cooperate fully if he would just let Jordan go. She eyed her rear view mirror nervously, wondering where he was.

Katerina drove and let her mind go where it would. Her fear was so great it swallowed her, but she ignored it. Her heartbeat hammered in her chest, her body dripped sour sweat, her nostrils flared as her chest heaved with the force of her breathing, and still she ignored it. They were just bodily sensations, they would be over soon.

She drove until her phone beeped again.

Turn left at the next road, then take an immediate right. Pull into the first gas station on your left. Park next to the small sedan to the far left side of the Building.

Katerina did as she was told, then sat and waited for further instructions.

Stop your car. Leave the keys in the ignition. Get in the blue sedan.

Katerina did it, her body shaking violently, even as her mind stayed curiously calm.

Take your clothes off, even your underwear and bra. Put on what you find on the seat next to you. Drop your clothes out the window one at a time as you take them off.

Katerina’s mind raced. What was he doing? Did he think she had a transmitter on her?

Katerina took off her shirt and dropped it out the window. She looked through the pile of clothes on the seat next to her and found only sweatpants and a shirt. No bra or panties. She put on the black, too-tight shirt, watching the parking lot of the gas station closely, for anyone watching her. There was a lot of traffic at the pumps and in and out of the building, but nobody was sparing her a second glance. She took her bra off underneath her shirt and dropped it out the window too.

Katerina lifted up in her seat and undid her jeans, pushing them down. As she did she felt something in the pocket of one of them. Suddenly she felt like a complete idiot for not bringing some sort of a weapon. She reached in her pocket and pulled out a lipstick. Great. She could paint his lips to death.

She held it in her hand and pushed her jeans the rest of the way down, leaning forward to pull them off of her legs. Sudden inspiration struck and she fiddled with the lipstick and her jeans as quickly as she could. She popped her head back up and shoved the lipstick back into the jeans pocket, then dropped the pants carefully out the window next to the shirt. She slid off her underwear and dropped them out too, nervously hoping that no one would look at her. Then thinking how that was a stupid thing to hope. She pulled the sweatpants up her legs and settled them on her hips. They were two sizes too big for her and had no pockets. Even if she had brought a weapon, there was no hope of concealing it in this outfit.

Her phone beeped again.

Shoes.

I’m not wearing any
, she typed back.

Throw your phone on the ground outside the window. There is another phone in the glove box. Get it out and drive to the exit. Don’t pull into traffic yet. You will be going right, but not until I say.

A sudden irrational fear grasped her. She couldn’t give up her phone! She hesitated, but only for a moment. Jordan was at stake here. She put her hand out of the window and let the phone fly, not sure if it would be better if it landed on her clothes or not. Probably not. He was probably going to grab her phone, but she prayed he would leave her clothes alone.

Katerina did as she was instructed and sat at the exit, her eyes searching every way at once. A rusty old farm truck pulled across the gas station parking lot from the other side and parked in the stall she had just been in. She watched in her rear view mirror as a man in mirrored aviator sunglasses got out.
She had been right. The picture of her had been her mugshot when she was arrested in Tetam County, and only a Tetam County sheriff had access to it.

Sheriff Lance Payne popped out of her view, behind his truck for a moment, and then she saw him again as he straightened. He had her phone. He was facing her, looking up to see what she was doing every few seconds, but fiddling intensely with her phone. Then he dropped it to the blacktop and ground it under his boot. She saw the screen shatter and glass shards fly everywhere.

Dread settled over Katerina and black spots covered her vision. This was it. There was no escaping whatever followed. Her life would soon be over, and did she really have any chance of saving Jordan from this maniac? She knew the odds against her were monumental. But she still had to try.

West opened his eyes and blinked. Morning sun streamed into the window, landing right on his face. He felt next to him for Katerina, but the bed was empty. His eyes shot open and he listened for noises in the small apartment. None came. He pushed himself off the bed and checked the bathroom, the living room, and the kitchen. Empty.

A sour taste filled his mouth and he looked around frantically.
His phone.
He found it on the dining room table and immediately saw a message from Katerina.

He read the message twice, losing strength in his legs and arms. The phone felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

West, I’m sorry. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do any of it anymore. Take care of Jordan for me.
                                         

West’s nerves felt suddenly raw and exposed. He broke his paralysis and ran outside, his eyes searching the parking lot for Katerina’s car. It was gone, like he knew it would be. He looked out over the houses and buildings and streets and felt absolute dread. Westwood Harbor was a big city, over a million people, and he didn’t even know how long Katerina had been gone for. The message left no clues as to exactly where she might have gone to … to do it. How was he ever going to find her?

His hands shaking, he dialed Blaise’s number. The phone rang endlessly. West pressed it hard enough against his ear to make creases in his skin.
Answer, damn it, answer!

Finally, Blaise picked up, sounding like West had woken him up out of a dead sleep. “West, what’s up?”

“Blaise, Katerina’s gone. I think she’s going to kill herself. She left me a message saying she can’t take it anymore and I am supposed to take care of Jordan.”

“Aw fuck,” Blaise said, sounding fully awake. “Do you have any idea where she might be going?”

“None.”

“Have you called Jordan?”

“Not yet. I will as soon as …” West’s voice cracked. He couldn’t believe this was happening. “I will. But can’t you do something?”

“Yeah man, I’ll put out an APB on her, but answer my questions first. Did she have a weapon?”

“I don’t think so. The police still have her gun. But she could have a knife. There’re knives everywhere.”

“What was she wearing?”

“I don’t know, maybe what she was wearing last night? The jeans and a blue T-shirt.”

“How tall is she?”

West ground his teeth in frustration. “5-5 maybe.”

“And how much does she weigh?”

“I don’t know, man, who knows how much a woman weighs? You know she’s slim. Maybe 125.”

“And she has brown hair and blue eyes?”

“GREEN eyes! Green.” West didn’t bother to explain the difference between auburn and brown.

“Okay, calm down. I’ll have whoever’s on patrol do sweeps of the bridges. You call Jordan and wait there. I’ll call you back.”

West hung up, dizziness threatening to make him sit down.
Sweeps of the bridges?
Jesus!

West dialed Jordan’s number and let it ring until it went to voice mail. He hung up and tried two more times, but she didn’t answer. He sent her a text.
Call me back right away, Katerina’s in trouble.
Then he sat on the top step of the stairs leading down to the parking lot and willed his phone to ring.

Finally, Blaise called him back. “Okay I put out an APB. I’ve got officers actively looking for her and her car. Anything from Jordan?”

“She won’t answer.”

“Keep trying. Let me know if you get her. I’m heading out to look too.”

“Blaise you’ve got to come get me. I don’t have a car.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

The phone went dead in his ear and West didn’t know if he could stand the next ten minutes.

Oh Katerina, don’t do it. Hang in there, baby. I’ll find you. We can get through this.

Katerina followed the instructions that came through on the phone that had been left for her in the glove compartment. She drove slowly out of Westwood Harbor and into Tetam County, down lonely country roads, the old farm truck directly behind her, riding her bumper and trying to get her to go faster. Mentally, she flipped him off the whole way. Physically, she didn't dare move her hands from the steering wheel. Every time she did, he texted immediately, probably afraid she was trying to use the phone. She wouldn't endanger Jordan that way, even if it was the stupidest thing she had ever done.

They drove for almost forty-five minutes before a message came through that she was to turn left on the next street, follow it to the end and then turn left in the last driveway. She craned her neck for a street sign, but there was none. She had no clue where she was. This road was entirely dirt, and very lightly traveled. She saw nothing but empty farmland for miles and miles.

The road ended abruptly, and a dirt lane led off to her left. She pulled onto it and slowly drove to her fate, the truck following.

Weeds and brush lined both sides of the lane. The driveway seemed over a mile long and when it finally opened up into a dry and dying lawn, she saw the falling down farmhouse and the red barn in the distance that Frank had tried to show her in his mind.
Thanks Frank
, she thought weakly, feeling her sanity slipping.

She followed the driveway to its end, where it curved around the house, then put the car in park and turned it off.

Here we go.

She stepped out of the car and waited.

Dylan Phillips aka Sheriff Lance Payne parked the truck and stepped out. She noticed he had a gun trained on her and felt absolutely no surprise. She decided that, in her mind, he would always be Dylan. The once poor child who never had a chance at normal, who now needed to be put out of his misery. If only she had some way to do it.

“You came,” he said, like she was doing him a favor.

“I had no choice.”

“No, you didn’t, did you?” A broad smile crossed his face, and Katerina felt the now-familiar fury wash over her. She welcomed it. It was better than the fear. She started to feed it small scraps of angry thoughts, stoking it like she would a fire.

He kidnapped Jordan. He killed five women. Maybe more. Like they were animals. They never had a chance. He could have made a different choice. He didn’t. It didn’t have to be this way. He chose it.

“Where is Jordan?”

“You’ll see her soon enough.” He raised his hand slightly and turned to look at the sky in the distance. “Don’t you want to sniff the air a final time? Savor the sun on your face? I’m sure you know your time in my magic world is short.”

Katerina looked at him flatly. “No.”

Dylan seemed disappointed. “Move it then.” He motioned with his head and the gun towards the big red barn.

Katerina took a step towards her fate, then stopped. “If I go with you, will you let Jordan go?”

“Of course.”

Katerina could hear the lie in his voice and it fueled her ire. She faced him squarely. “I cooperate, and you let her go. If you don’t, I’ll fight you with everything I have, and I promise you I have a good chance of winning if I fight.” Katerina hoped she was projecting more confidence than she felt. The anger helped her though. It put steel in her voice.

Dylan nodded, a nasty smile on his lean and square face. Katerina hated not being able to see his eyes behind the mirrored sunglasses.

“I promise you that if you cooperate, I will free your friend.”

Katerina knew she couldn’t trust him, but she also knew she had no choice. She turned again and trudged towards the barn. Once inside, Dylan told her to stop.

“Pull up on those boards right in front of you.”

Katerina knelt and pulled up on the boards. A trap door opened from the seemingly seamless floor. She looked beyond to the ladder that led into complete darkness and swallowed, fear tasting sour in her throat.

Goodbye West. I love you.

Suddenly it seemed ridiculous to her that she had never told him that she loved him. What had she been waiting for? Love was never a bad thing. Hot tears prickled her eyes.

“Go on, start climbing down the ladder. Make sure you don’t fall, it’s a long drop.”

Katerina climbed onto the ladder, slowly lowering herself into the pit, hand over hand. After she had gone down into almost complete darkness, at least twenty rungs below, Dylan clipped a light onto his belt and began climbing down after her. Katerina descended more and more slowly, but Dylan never caught up with her. He was staying well away from her.

Her foot touched hard dirt. She stepped onto the floor and backed away from the ladder.

“See the small door? Go through it. Leave it standing open and go to the middle of the room.”

Katerina pushed open the door and crouched to get through it. She heard Dylan drop to the ground behind her, then she heard screaming from ahead of her.

“You fucking bastard! You’ll never get away with this! You’re going to fucking fry in jail you sicko!”

Katerina rushed across the room, not even seeing it. All she had eyes for was the tiny door on the far wall with a little slot in it. She could see Jordan’s fingers holding the slot open as she screamed at Dylan.

“Katerina! Oh God, you shouldn’t have come.” Jordan cried. “I prayed you wouldn’t come.”

Katerina dropped to her knees and grasped Jordan’s fingers, tears spilling down her front. This was bad. This was so, so bad. She sucked in several deep breaths and tried to take stock of where she was. The only light was weak and flickering, from several oil lanterns on the walls. The place smelled slightly, and the floor was wet. She was kneeling in a small puddle. Fear started overtaking her again and she sidestepped it, encouraging the anger instead. Anger seemed to give her energy, while the fear sapped every ounce of her strength. She would need great strength to make it out of this alive.

Dylan spoke from across the room. “Now come over here and sit down.”

“Don’t do it, Katerina. Run. Get out of here,” Jordan said.

Dylan laughed. “There is nowhere to run to. Come now, I’ve even cleaned up for you. Remember your promise and I’ll remember mine.”

Katerina pushed herself to her feet. She saw no way out of this. She walked to the chair Dylan was pointing at and sat down.

“See those leg irons? Fasten them to your ankles.”

Jordan wailed from behind her. “Don’t do it, Kat! Don’t!”

Katerina leaned forward and clipped the leg irons closed.

“Now your right arm. See the handcuffs there?”

Katerina fastened the handcuff over her right wrist and snapped it shut. The other side was fastened to the chair.

“Tighten it.”

Katerina did, until it bit cruelly into her flesh.

Dylan put the gun behind him on the counter and pulled on a pair of thick looking electrical gloves, then moved in warily. Katerina realized that he didn’t want to touch her. Because of what she did to his brother. But could she even do that again? Would she even dare to try? Dylan was so much crazier and worse than his brother. Would it hurt her worse if she tried it again with this guy?

Dylan pulled a set of tools out of his back pocket and Katerina flinched. They were wicked-looking, long-nosed pliers. She couldn’t imagine what he was going to do with them, or maybe she didn’t want to.

He held one in each hand and advanced on her. “Grasp the arm of the chair. If you touch me, and I manage to get away, I’ll kill your friend in front of you.”

“And if I hold still?”

“I’ll free her. I can’t do it right away - not until we’re done here, but I will free her.”

Katerina heard his slight emphasis on the word free and let her eyes drop closed. He meant something other than what she did, but what could she do? She grabbed the arm of the chair and waited.

She heard metal on metal, and then the cold steel of the handcuffs touched her arms.

Whoosh. Although she was certain he wasn’t touching her, and although she wasn’t asking, Dylan’s essence rushed through the raw metal into her consciousness. Like his brother, images spilled out of him into her.

She gritted her teeth against the massive intrusion. Luckily he was quick, and as soon as the connection was broken, the images stopped.

Her eyes snapped open. “Oh my God. You’ve killed seventy-nine people? And Lance Payne was your
friend
. Your lover. He
loved
you.”

Behind her, Jordan moaned slightly, then started weeping. For the first time, Katerina heard what sounded like other women behind her. Someone spoke softly in a foreign language.
Russian. There were more women here.

Katerina felt her anger building, surging inside her. Her hair tried to stand on end and her body felt super heated.

In front of her, Dylan seemed to ignore her words completely. He stared at her with a haughty look in his eyes, like whatever he did was his right.

She had one more thing to say to him, on her terms.

“Dylan, you’re not God. In fact, your brother sees you as the devil. I’m starting to think he’s right.”

Dylan’s fist opened and closed. His face twisted angrily and she felt his desire to hurt her. But he didn’t quite dare touch her.

He paced the room with large, angry strides, his feet splashing in the puddles.

Finally he turned. He stood straight and stared at her behind his mirrored sunglasses. He seemed to be waiting for something. He turned and positioned his body in several different ways. He raised his arms, lowered them again. He looked at the ceiling, looked at the floor, turned in a circle, said
now
, and then
do it
, and then
I’m ready
.

When nothing happened he froze in place, slightly bent, his face angled towards the floor. He stayed that way for at least ten minutes. Katerina held her breath, fear and anger pulling through her alternately.

He came back to life and straightened up. He lifted a finger and pointed it at her. His voice came, thundering in a mock deep tone. “I command you, Katerina Holloway, to release your power to me this instant.”

Katerina stared at him, not quite comprehending what he was trying to do. He wanted her power? He thought she could just hand it over?

He stared at her, his eyes widening and narrowing from disbelief to anger. Finally, he dropped his finger and spoke normally, with a bit of a petulant whine in his voice.

“I want your power. There’s a way for me to get it. Tell me how.”

“You can fucking have it.” Katerina fired back, meaning it.

“Really? How?”

“Touch me. If I can give it to you, I will.”

Dylan sneered. “Yeah right. You won’t fry my brain like you did my brother?”

Katerina stayed silent. Somewhere in the room she heard a chiming noise. From a phone? She didn’t know.

Dylan paced again, talking to himself. He didn’t seem to hear the noise. “There has to be a way to transfer the energy from her to me. If only Frank was here. He would have an idea. Something to try.”

Katerina lowered her head and breathed imaginary fire into her lungs. She’d never hated anyone in her life, but she hated Dylan Phillips.

Finally he stopped in front of her again. “Perhaps your friend is the key. She brought you here, maybe she’s the way to get you to loosen your powers. I’ll bet that’s it.”

From the counter, Phillips picked up a key, and a syringe with a long and sharp-looking needle.

Katerina stared at him in terror, knowing she wouldn’t be able to take whatever was coming. What had she been thinking, coming out here by herself? She pulled at her bonds and turned her anger on her only available target: herself, immediately feeling her cells start to boil.