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Authors: Lena Diaz

Simon Says Die (16 page)

BOOK: Simon Says Die
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“Is he coming with us?” Tessa looked pointedly at Matt.


He
can hear you just fine, and yes,
he
is coming too.” Matt stared at her, as if daring her to try to stop him.

Pierce opened the door to the sitting room that was part of the mother-in-law suite, and ushered the others inside before closing the door behind them. “Matt's helping with the search, and he's smarter than you and me combined. He wants to help.”

Tessa shrugged and turned her back on Matt to face Pierce.

Matt, having none of that, sidled around to join the three of them.

She ignored him. “I've got a confirmed sighting of Madison's car at a motel outside of town, just off the interstate.”

Relief poured through him. “Let's go.”

She grabbed his arm. “Wait, you need to hear all of this.”

His stomach clenched. He was already dreading what she was going to say. “Go ahead.”

“The car isn't there anymore, but the motel manager saw it, and he verified the tag number when the woman driving rented a room.”

“Woman?” Pierce asked.

“A petite woman with shoulder length, dark hair.” Tessa pulled a photograph out of her purse. “I personally checked the motel manager's story, and got this picture from the still camera at the check-out desk.” She handed it to him.

He stared at the grainy black and white photo, then held it closer for a better look. “It looks like Madison. I'll admit that. But the woman in the picture is wearing sunglasses, inside. Seems suspicious.”

“Agreed. Which is why I triple-checked the credit card information. The woman in that photo was driving Madison's car, and paid with Madison's credit card. What was Madison wearing when you last saw her?”

He was holding the picture so hard that it started to crinkle in his hands. He forced himself to relax his grip. “Jeans and a white blouse, with little pink flowers on it. Just like the outfit this woman is wearing.”

“This is looking less and less like an abduction,” Tessa said.

Matt crossed his arms. “That's just stupid.”

She gave him the kind of look someone would give a fly buzzing around their head. “It's a reasonable deduction, based on evidence.”

“None of this makes sense,” Pierce said. “Why would Madison sneak out of the house and run off to a motel? She's an adult. If she wanted to meet some man . . .” he swallowed and cleared his throat. “If she wanted to do that, she'd do it. She wouldn't sneak around.”

“I agree,” Tessa said. “Which is why I'm going back to the motel. I'll dig deeper, see if I can find other witnesses. I need a picture of Madison for when I question people. I saw some photographs in her home office. I'll go grab one of those.” She started toward the door, but Pierce stopped her.

“That won't be necessary.” He pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket. He took out a picture of Madison he'd taken when they were dating, a picture he'd been unable to throw away. Without a word, he handed it to Tessa.

She gave him a sympathetic look, making him grit his teeth.

“I'll make sure you get this back.” She headed out the door.

Matt frowned after her. “I'm going to call Braedon and update my map to show where he's searched already.” He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “You coming?”

Pierce pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I have to make a call first, something I've been putting off. Be there in a minute.”

Matt nodded and headed into the kitchen.

Pierce moved to the window overlooking the backyard, and punched up a number on his phone. The same number he'd been threatening to call since the morning of the shooting.

“Hey, Pierce,” the voice on the phone said. “This had better be good. I'm a bit . . . busy at the moment.”

Pierce leaned his forehead against the cool glass and closed his eyes. “Logan, Madison's in trouble.”

M
ADISON DREW IN
another breath to scream just as the trunk popped open.

A patch of bright blue sky had her blinking as her eyes adjusted to the light. A dark figure moved into her range of vision, and suddenly a rough cloth was held over her nose and mouth.

She thrashed and tried to turn her head away from the sweet-smelling cloth, the same smell she remembered from back in her kitchen. She tried to hold her breath as she struggled against his hold. Her lungs started burning. Spots flashed before her eyes, and she finally had to draw a breath.

Her world went dark.

P
IERCE REFUSED TO
leave Madison's house in case someone called demanding ransom.

Hamilton refused to leave in case Madison magically appeared on her own. He still wasn't convinced she'd been abducted. Neither was Tessa.

But Pierce no longer had any doubts.

Madison had been gone for over six hours now. She wouldn't be gone that long without contacting him. She'd know he would worry, and she wasn't the kind of person who would want him to worry, no matter what kind of problems they had with each other. Something bad had happened. He knew it. He just prayed he could find her soon.

He refused to even consider that he
wouldn't
find her.

Tessa sat down on one of the two couches in the family room to give her latest report to Lieutenant Hamilton and Pierce. Matt was out searching with the B&B crew. And Pierce had already updated Hamilton about the picture Tessa had from the motel.

The lieutenant was eager for help closing the case, so he wasn't upset at all that Tessa had been digging around. He was a little too happy, in Pierce's opinion, because the evidence wasn't backing up the abduction theory.

“Okay,” Tessa said. “Here's where things stand right now. I've spoken to several eyewitnesses who said a woman matching Mrs. McKinley's description, driving Mrs. McKinley's car—as confirmed by still images of the license plate—was seen at the Super 8 motel out on I-95, just south of town approximately thirty minutes after her disappearance. The subject used Mrs. McKinley's credit card to rent a room.”

She glanced at Pierce, an apologetic look on her face. “Subject was seen entering the motel room with a man closely matching the description of the man Mrs. McKinley recently chased through Forsyth Park, the same incident in which Special Agent Buchanan was shot. The subject and the unidentified man were seen leaving the motel room half an hour later, and they drove off in Mrs. McKinley's vehicle.”

Pierce tightened his hand around the arm of the couch. “If that woman was Madison, she was under duress. The man with her must have had a gun pointed at her.”

She shook her head. “Not according to the eyewitnesses.”

“He could have had the gun hidden beneath his jacket. Just because they didn't see a gun, doesn't mean there wasn't one.”

She put her hand on Pierce's shoulder. “They were seen kissing, passionately, in the parking lot. I saw the still photo from the security camera.”

He shook off her hand. “I know everyone thinks my judgment's clouded because of my past relationship with Madison. Maybe you're right. But there are too many things that don't add up here to ignore.”

“Like what?” Hamilton asked. He held his hands up when Pierce frowned at him. “I'm serious. If there's something I've overlooked, I want to know about it. You accused me of jumping to conclusions too quickly. I'm just as willing as you to admit I could be wrong. Give me something to go on. There's been no ransom demand, no note, no phone call, nothing to suggest that Mrs. McKinley was taken against her will. And everything we've seen points to just the opposite. So, go ahead, please. Give me something to help me see your side.”

Pierce blew out a frustrated breath. “Aside from the glaring fact that Madison has no motive to lie to the police—”

“That you know of,” Tessa said.

“All right. That we know of. Aside from no motive, everything else is too . . . perfect.”

“Like what?” Tessa asked.

“The motel, for one. How did you find out about it in the first place?”

“I traced her credit cards, found she'd made a charge and went to the motel to investigate. Standard operating procedure.”

“Exactly. Madison's brother is a police chief. Before that, he was a detective in New York City. Madison and Logan are close. I know for a fact that he's discussed police procedures with her on numerous occasions. She knows standard operating procedures. If she wanted to disappear, she wouldn't use her credit cards. And she sure as hell wouldn't drive a flashy, red sports car.”

Hamilton looked thoughtful. “When you put it that way, it does sound far-fetched. Considering how carefully everything else was done, I wouldn't expect these kinds of mistakes.”

Pierce nodded, relieved to see that Hamilton was at least listening. “The sprinkler system was also overkill. If Madison wanted to create a diversion so she could get out of the house without anyone noticing, wouldn't she have chosen something more reliable or predictable? She didn't have any way of knowing the B-and-B contractors were coming out this morning, or how long it would take the water to go out to the street if they hadn't come along. It could have been a long time before someone actually noticed. As a diversion, the sprinkler system wasn't a good plan.”

Hamilton tapped his hands on the table. “Maybe,” he admitted. “It could also be that Mrs. McKinley panicked when she realized I was going to get a search warrant. Busting the sprinkler was the only thing she could think of to create a diversion. It wasn't perfect, but it did work. She could have gone outside through that back bedroom, the in-law suite. No one would have seen her.”

Pierce crossed his arms over his chest. It was difficult to argue when what Hamilton said made sense.

Tessa pulled a manila folder out of her purse. She placed it on the table, and took out a small stack of black-and-white photos. “These are the still pictures from the motel security camera. They're not the best quality, but I felt they were pretty definitive. You can clearly see the license plate on the car.” She handed the photos to Pierce.

He looked at them for a full minute before tossing them back on the table. “That's Madison's car, but that isn't Madison.”

She picked up the photos and studied one of them. “What makes you say that?”

“Something is off, but I can't put my finger on it. It will come to me. But one thing I can tell you, whoever the woman in that picture is, she's doing her best not to let the camera get a clear shot of her face.”

Tessa slowly flipped through the photos. “You're right. Not one of them shows her full-on. She's wearing sunglasses in half of them, and has her head turned to the side in the rest. All I can say for sure is she has dark hair, the same general build as Mrs. McKinley, and she's wearing the same clothes.” She glanced up. “You're not disputing the clothes are you?”

“No, those are Madison's clothes.” He didn't allow himself to think what it could mean if someone had stripped her clothes from her body. It hurt too damn much to go down that road.

“Let's say you're right, that she's the victim in this. What's your theory?” Hamilton asked.

“Madison came to Savannah in the first place because someone had impersonated her and fired her property management company. And the person who used to take care of the yard each week has disappeared. Or at least, that's my opinion. Have you actually seen Newsome since we were at his house the other day?”

Hamilton shook his head. “No. But no one's filed a missing person's report.”

“Maybe he doesn't have any family to file a report,” Tessa offered.

“Possibly. I can get someone to dig a bit more.”

“That's a start,” Pierce agreed. “Now, why would someone fire the property management company and possibly be responsible for the yardman's disappearance?”

“Because he, or she, didn't want anyone checking on this house,” Tessa said.

“Right. If we assume Madison really was abducted this morning, the person who abducted her knew this house intimately. He knew another way inside so he could take her without anyone seeing him. And if we add in all the notes, the phone calls, the vandalism—”

“It's all about the house,” Tessa said.

Pierce nodded. “Seems that way. I think someone was living in this house and wanted to get rid of the property manager and yardman so no one would report that he was here. Half the neighbors aren't around this time of year, so no one would even know there wasn't supposed to be anyone in the house. They wouldn't report anything if they saw lights on at night, or a car outside. When Madison came down to check on the house, and ended up staying, the man who'd been living here decided to try to inconvenience her enough, or spook her, so she'd leave.”

“If that's the case, why abduct her?” Hamilton asked.

“To make sure she got the message,” Tessa said.

“And what message is that?” the lieutenant asked.

“He wants her out of the house.”

Pierce shook his head. “I don't think so, Tessa. I think he started out trying to scare her away, but now he's having too much fun. He's changed his plans. He's not worried about the attention he's attracting, or that cops are involved. Think about it—if he was still trying to get her to leave, so he could live in the house, he's ensured that's not feasible by involving the police. He could never live here now, with everything that has happened.”

“Then what's his new plan?” Tessa asked.

His fingers tightened so hard on the chair they started to ache. “I have no idea.”

 

Chapter Sixteen

M
ADISON TURNED HER
head into her pillow. She slowly opened her eyes, blinking at the bright, overhead light.

She jerked upright, and had to put her hand down to keep from falling on the soft surface she was sitting on. A mattress, no sheet, on a concrete floor in a small room. Her hair was damp and smelled like shampoo, as if it had just been washed. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt.

And they weren't hers.

Bile rose in her throat at the thought of a stranger being that familiar with her body. Bathing her, dressing her. She had to swallow hard to keep from throwing up.

She shoved her damp hair back from her face, and realized she wasn't bound anymore. She jumped up, then staggered at the first rush of blood back into her limbs. Spots swam in front of her eyes, and she caught herself against the wall.

When she could see clearly again and the dizziness subsided, she looked around, trying to get her bearings. She was in a room the size of a small bedroom, empty except for the mattress. Bars covered the one window, a black square reflecting the overhead light back at her.

A door was set into the far wall. She hurried toward it and grabbed the doorknob. Locked. She tried again, twisting hard, then rattling the knob. She pounded on the door. “Help! Is anyone there?”

She beat on the door, screaming until her throat was raw. Gasping for breath, she collapsed against the wall.

Focus. She needed to concentrate, think. There had to be a way out of here.

The window.

She ran to the dark piece of glass and cupped her hands around the bars as she tried to see outside. Someone had painted over the glass. She couldn't see anything. The bars were wide enough apart that she could fit her hand between them to touch the glass. She pounded, trying to break it. She took off her shoe and used it like a hammer, but nothing happened. The glass wasn't any ordinary glass or it would have shattered by now.

Trapped. She was utterly and completely trapped.

She turned away from the window and plopped onto the mattress. Her chest was heaving from exertion, and she sprawled backward. Her eyes flew open wide as she saw what she hadn't noticed earlier.

Pictures on the ceiling above her, dozens of them. She scrambled to her feet and squinted up at them, shading her hands from the light.

Oh God. They were pictures of her family.

Her mother, smiling at her new husband, standing outside a house. The villa in France, where her mom and her husband lived when they weren't in Manhattan, the villa where her mother was right now.

Above that was a picture of Logan and Amanda, on a cruise ship.

On their honeymoon.

Fear slashed straight to Madison's heart. She'd seen these pictures before, on her mother's social media Web site. Someone had printed them out and taped them to the ceiling. They'd built this prison just for her.

Who, Damon? Why would he do this?

She stilled when she saw a picture that hadn't been on any Web site. A picture of Pierce, in Jacksonville, standing on the balcony at his apartment, flipping steaks on a grill. He was grinning and looking through the open sliding glass door at someone inside. Madison squinted up at the picture. She gasped when she recognized the faint image of the other person, barely visible in the photograph

She
was the person inside.

She let out a low moan when she saw the next picture of Pierce, lying on the street after he'd been shot while trying to protect her, blood seeping through his shirt.

The message was clear. Whoever had taken her was threatening her family, and everyone she cared about.

Her body flushed hot and a buzzing sounded in her ears. She ran to the door. She rattled the doorknob and pounded on the wood.

“What do you want from me? Who are you? Damon? Are you the coward doing this? If you hurt my family again, I'll kill you. Do you hear me, Damon? You got away once, but you won't get away again. I'll track you down. I'll kill you.” Tears streamed down her face as she sank to the floor, curling her fingers against the door.

A sound had her sitting up straight. A footstep, another. Closer, closer, stopping right outside the door.

Her heart was beating so hard she couldn't catch her breath. She waited, watching the doorknob. Praying the door would open, but dreading it at the same time.

A full minute passed. Nothing. No sound. The door remained firmly shut.

She quietly leaned down and laid her head on the cold concrete to peek underneath the door.

Something flew at her, brushing against her face.

She screamed and jerked back.

The sound of laughter echoed in the hallway, floating back to her as the footsteps sounded outside again, getting farther away, fainter, fainter, until she couldn't hear them anymore.

A white piece of paper lay on the concrete. That's what had flown at her from under the door.

Her hand shook as she slowly reached out and picked up the piece of paper. Letters were pasted onto the page, in different sizes and colors, as if they'd been cut from a magazine. When she read what it said, she began to shake so hard her teeth chattered together.

Y
OUR PUNISHMENT IS ABOUT TO BEGIN
.

T
WENTY-FOUR HOURS.

Madison had been missing for more than twenty-four hours. Pierce had worked violent crimes long enough to know the exact odds of her being found alive.

They weren't good.

The sun coming in through Madison's bedroom window had him blinking against the harsh light. He'd gone upstairs late last night, so tired he couldn't focus anymore. He'd intended to take a quick nap, but the sun coming through the window told him he'd slept far longer than he'd meant to.

He cursed and jumped out of bed. He rushed through his morning routine, taking a mostly cold shower to try to wake up. Braedon had brought him a travel bag with fresh clothes from his house. Pierce didn't bother with the shaver. He threw on some slacks and a dress shirt and padded in his bare feet down the stairs.

He nodded at Lieutenant Hamilton sitting on one of the couches as he headed into the kitchen for some caffeine. Hamilton looked as bad as Pierce felt. In spite of his doubts about Madison, Hamilton was doing everything in his power to help find her, making Pierce regret the bad thoughts he'd had about the man.

Most of them.

He poured a cup of coffee and took a quick sip, grimacing at the bitter taste, but welcoming the caffeine. He called out to Hamilton from the kitchen. “Heard anything?”

The lieutenant let out a loud yawn. “No, too early.”

Pierce took another deep sip. Tessa was still following up on the one lead they had—the sighting at the Super 8 motel yesterday. She was a bulldog when it came to leads, and he had every faith that if there was something to find, she'd find it. She was young, inexperienced but tenacious and clever. If anyone could figure out what really happened at that motel, Tessa could.

Or Logan.

He was the best investigator Pierce had ever met. He could look at a series of seemingly unrelated facts and see the pattern that revealed the truth.

Pierce glanced at his watch. Logan had said he'd try to get a flight out of Italy last night, but he had to take his bride, Amanda, to leave her with his mother and the mother's new husband. Logan refused to bring his wife to Savannah. He said she'd been through far too much to be plopped back in the middle of turmoil again.

Pierce understood Logan's stance, but he hated that he had to wait that much longer for Logan to get here and pitch in with the investigation.

He drained his cup, refilled it, then filled one for Hamilton.

The lieutenant nodded gratefully when Pierce set the cup down in front of him.

“Don't thank me yet,” Pierce said. “You haven't tasted how bad it is.”

Hamilton laughed, a hollow, tired sound. “As long as it keeps me awake, I don't care what it tastes like. Heard anything from Mrs. McKinley's brother?”

Pierce sat down across from Hamilton. “Last I heard, he'd just booked a flight to France to drop off his wife. Should've gotten there sometime during the night. Hopefully he's on his way here by now.”

“I hope he's as good as you say he is. I'm about out of ideas.”

“He is.” The sound of the front door opening had him turning around. His brothers, all of them, came through the door, with Alex following close behind.

“None of you should be here.” Pierce pulled a chair back from the grouping in the family room so Austin could scoot his wheelchair up. “You did more than enough yesterday, helping with the search. You can't have had more than a couple of hours sleep.”

“As ugly as you look this morning,” Braedon said, “I'm sure we got more sleep than you did.”

Alex shook his head at Braedon. “Matt guilted us into coming. He wants us to work on Madison's renovations. He thinks all the problems B-and-B has had over here are because someone was trying to stop us from digging up the yard, that if we work on the footers, we might find something important that will help with the investigation.”

“I should have thought of that,” Pierce said.

“We've got a team outside right now getting it started,” Matt said. He crossed over to sit next to the lieutenant. “I want to know what you've done so far to find her.”

Hamilton raised a brow and glanced across at Pierce. “He thinks he can figure out where she is when half my police force hasn't had any luck?”

“Apparently he does.” Pierce smiled his first smile since Madison's disappearance.

Matt went into the front room and grabbed the map off the table. He came back in the family room and plopped down again. “What are all these red circles for?”

Hamilton eyed him much like he would a rattlesnake, but he answered Matt's questions.

Alex sat beside Pierce. “I told them the police probably wouldn't want anyone in the backyard with everything going on, but I think they all feel a bit helpless. If they can work on the renovations, it will make them feel needed.”

“I don't see any problem with them working out back, as long as they stay out of everyone's way. The police are finished back there.”

“Let me know if there's anything you need.” He stood. “Come on, boys. It's time to teach an old lawyer how to dig footers.”

BOOK: Simon Says Die
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