Terrified (43 page)
He guessed someone had been in here earlier today—or at least, recently enough that they hadn’t gotten around to switching off the surveillance camera. And someone had been bleeding in that claw-foot tub recently, too.
Josh thought of his mother again.
He told himself he wasn’t going to cry.
He pulled down the U-Haul’s sliding door. Then he took a deep breath, backed up, and shut the barn door. Retrieving the poker from the ground, he headed up the driveway. He kept the flashlight on.
Ahead of him, all he could see was darkness.
C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-SEVEN
HAPTER
T
WENTY-SEVEN
A
s she pulled out of the Lamplighter Inn’s parking lot, Megan drove slowly, resisting the impulse to bolt out of there. She couldn’t stop shaking. On the passenger seat beside her, she had her purse and the Macy’s bag with her things in it.
s she pulled out of the Lamplighter Inn’s parking lot, Megan drove slowly, resisting the impulse to bolt out of there. She couldn’t stop shaking. On the passenger seat beside her, she had her purse and the Macy’s bag with her things in it.
The nerdy desk clerk would have been pleased to know she’d used the sliding glass door while loading up her car. Now, with the hotel in her rearview mirror, Megan went over in her head all the items she taken out of the room. Yes, she had everything. She’d hidden the family album under a folded blanket in the dresser, and now it was in the Macy’s bag with her extra clothes, her toiletries, and Josh’s jacket. All her money and fake documents, the gun from Candy’s art studio, and the two cell phones—the “Every Breath You Take” phone and the one belonging to J. Knoll—were in her purse.
She’d left nothing behind except the severed remains of her estranged husband. She couldn’t let go of that image: his head and his right arm stashed in that leaky garbage bag in the tub. She wondered where the rest of him would turn up.
She wished there was something left of their relationship that she could cry for him, but she could only think about Josh.
Now she knew Glenn hadn’t masterminded her son’s abduction. Josh wasn’t in his father’s care. She could no longer hope Glenn—with his sense of
family first
—might realize Josh was truly his and protect him. The maniac who had Josh in his custody had shown her once again what he was capable of. He’d left proof of it in the bathtub of her hotel room.
family first
—might realize Josh was truly his and protect him. The maniac who had Josh in his custody had shown her once again what he was capable of. He’d left proof of it in the bathtub of her hotel room.
Megan heard sirens, and she saw a police car with its red strobes flashing. It was speeding toward her in the oncoming lane. She slowly pulled over to the side of the road as the patrol car zoomed past. Checking her rearview mirror, she spotted in the distance another prowler, with its flashers on, turning onto the street. Both cop cars were heading toward the Lamplighter Inn.
She wondered if an anonymous 911 caller had tipped them off about parts of a corpse in room 127 of the Lamplighter. He’d timed the call perfectly. It was as if he knew the exact moment when she’d pulled out of the parking lot.
It spelled the end of her Rachel Porter alias. With the description from the desk clerk, the police would figure out who had stayed in that room—especially after they identified Glenn’s remains. Now they’d assume she was responsible for his murder, too.
Part of her wanted to give herself up to the police, but she couldn’t—not until she found Josh. She straightened up behind the wheel and slowly veered back onto the road.
Ten minutes later, Megan pulled up to the pier parking area near Dan’s houseboat. She hoped to sleep on his sofa tonight. And she prayed it wouldn’t put him in harm’s way. She headed down the pier with her purse and the Macy’s bag. Dan’s was one of the only houseboats with the lights on inside. Everything was so still. Silver ripples danced off the dark water as it gently rolled against the pier.
Megan reached his front door and stopped dead. It was open a crack. She warily pushed the door farther open with her shoulder. A chair beside the entrance was tipped over, and she saw drops of blood and scuff marks on the hardwood floor. She remembered coming back from the hospital after Josh had been abducted, and the floor of her front hallway had looked the same way.
“Dan?” she called out tentatively.
There was no answer. She took the gun out of her purse, and set her bags down. She followed the droplets of blood. Megan was halfway to the galley when she realized the scarlet trail led to the bathroom.
Tears stung her eyes, and Megan swallowed hard.
“The bathroom again,” she murmured to herself. The door was halfway open, and the light was on in there. With the gun ready, she opened the door all the way. The bathroom had an overpowering spicy-cologne smell. Drops of blood spattered along the tiled floor and in the sink. A toothbrush, a can of shaving cream on its side, and a broken bottle of aftershave were strewn across the counter. The cologne had sluiced into the sink, mingling with the blood. The medicine chest was open, and she noticed an empty section of one shelf where those items must have been.
Megan turned toward the tub—and the map-of-the-world shower curtain. It was closed. With trepidation, she pulled it back. The metal hooks made a loud clatter. She stared down into the empty bathtub.
She let out a grateful sigh. Wandering out of the bathroom, she glanced around the living area and kitchen again. Nothing else seemed disturbed. His computer was on—with the
Three Stooges
screen saver. She went to the door again and stepped outside. She gazed toward the end of the pier, where the cars were. Then Megan realized she didn’t know what his car looked like.
Three Stooges
screen saver. She went to the door again and stepped outside. She gazed toward the end of the pier, where the cars were. Then Megan realized she didn’t know what his car looked like.
“Idiot,” she muttered to herself. Turning toward the houseboat again, she spotted two garbage bags in his garden area—by the pelican statue and the potted plants. They hadn’t been there earlier today.
With a hand over her heart, she stepped into the garden. Bending over the first bag, she nervously unfastened the twist-tie and then peered into it. Just garbage. Tapping the other bag with her shoe, she heard cans rattle.
She ducked inside again, and grabbed his cordless phone from his computer desk. She dialed his cell number. Counting two ringtones, she prayed it wouldn’t go to voice mail. There was a click on the third ring. “Hello, Meg?”
It was him. She plopped down on his desk chair. “Thank God. Are you okay?”
“I guess so,” he said. “I had an unexpected visitor. This guy in a ski mask broke in at around seven-fifteen. He attacked me with a knife and a small baseball bat. I managed to dodge the bat, but my luck wasn’t so good with the knife. He cut my hand… .”
“I saw the blood,” she said. “Are you all right? Where are you?”
“I’m in farm country, somewhere near Maple Valley off Highway One sixty-nine.”
“What are you doing out there? Are you sure you’re not seriously hurt?”
“I think I got it under control,” Dan said. He sounded a little out of breath. “You’d be proud of me. I got a few good punches in before he hightailed it out of there. I grabbed some towels and antiseptic for my hand and chased after him. He’s driving a silver SUV. Unfortunately, he got away. He started shooting at me, and blew out one of my tires. He did a number on my windshield as well. Anyway, I’m stuck here on the side of the road… .”
“Do you want me to come get you?” Megan asked.
“No, stay put, and keep the door locked,” he said. “I took down the license plate of the SUV, and called a cop friend of mine to trace the number. The plates were reported stolen ten days ago. I’m sorry I lost the son of a bitch. I wish I could have done more… .”
“My God, don’t be silly,” she murmured. “I feel horrible this happened to you. Let me come get you.”
“No, I’m okay. I’m halfway done putting on the spare. I’ll probably be finished before Triple-A gets here. But it’ll still be about an hour before I can get back to you.”
In the background, she heard a clunk. It sounded like he might have dropped something on the pavement. “Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked. “What if he comes back?”
“Well, he lost me about twenty minutes ago. He’d have come back by now if that’s what he had in mind. I should be okay.” Dan paused. “What about you? How did the meeting with your ex-husband go? Did he show up?”
“Well … ah …” That was all Megan could say before her throat closed up and she started crying uncontrollably. Past the tears, she managed to tell him about finding Glenn’s mutilated remains in the hotel room tub. Maybe she still had a few tears for Glenn after all.
“Listen,” Dan said. “Let me send my cop friend over there to keep you company—at least until I get back… .”
“No,” she said, wiping her eyes with her bandaged hand. “No, I’d rather not involve the police. You didn’t tell him about me, did you?”
“I wouldn’t do that without your okay,” he assured her. “I just told him that some guy ran me off the road here, and I had a flat. I asked him to track down the license. So—now the cops know the stolen plates are on a silver SUV somewhere out here in farm country.”
There was a pause on the other end.
“Dan?” she said.
“Yeah, I’m still here. Listen, Meg, I think there’s a pretty good chance this guy has your son holed up in one of these farmhouses out here. Some of these homes are really isolated. If I was going to hold someone for ransom, this would be a pretty good place to do it. Then again, the guy knew I was chasing him. He could have driven out here just to mislead me. Either way, the sooner we get the police involved, the better your chances of getting your son back.”
“But will I get him back alive?” Megan retorted, her voice scratchy from crying. “If I contact the police, he’ll know it. I’m not sure how, but he seems to know my every move. Obviously he figured out I was here with you part of the day. Why else would he try to kill you tonight?”
“Well, if he really knows so much,” Dan said, “that’s even more reason for me to send my cop friend over there to keep you company right now.”
Megan sighed. “Let me think about it and call you back, okay?”
“All right, but think about it with the door locked,” he said. “Help yourself to whatever you want. If for some reason you need to restart the computer, my server password is Moe-Larry-Curly, all run together. And if you use the bathroom, be careful of the glass. I broke something when I grabbed the antiseptic.”
Megan found herself smiling. “Thank you, Dan.”
“By the way, before all the commotion started, I went online. I looked up your Dr. Joel Siler. After he left the Chicago area for St. Louis, he was hit with a malpractice suit. But it was settled out of court. He gave a long interview to the
St. Louis Post-Dispatch
years ago, in which he basically admitted he used to be an arrogant a-hole. So he joined Doctors Without Borders back in oh-three. He’s been working in Haiti since the earthquake of January 2010. I emailed you the article. Anyway, I don’t think this Dr. Siler is the one who just shot out my tire.” “I guess not,” she muttered. That depleted all her suspects. JJ and Travis were dead, while Joel Siler was a changed man—and not even in the country. “Thanks for looking that up for me, Dan.”
St. Louis Post-Dispatch
years ago, in which he basically admitted he used to be an arrogant a-hole. So he joined Doctors Without Borders back in oh-three. He’s been working in Haiti since the earthquake of January 2010. I emailed you the article. Anyway, I don’t think this Dr. Siler is the one who just shot out my tire.” “I guess not,” she muttered. That depleted all her suspects. JJ and Travis were dead, while Joel Siler was a changed man—and not even in the country. “Thanks for looking that up for me, Dan.”
“I researched Willow Dwyer, too,” he said. “No brother, no living parents, just a sister in Terre Haute, Indiana. But I found an article from
The Chicago Tribune
dated a few days ago. They quoted a friend of hers, who talked about Willow’s affair with Glenn. This woman worked alongside Willow at the hospital, and she seemed to know her pretty well. Her name’s Elisa Middleton… .”
The Chicago Tribune
dated a few days ago. They quoted a friend of hers, who talked about Willow’s affair with Glenn. This woman worked alongside Willow at the hospital, and she seemed to know her pretty well. Her name’s Elisa Middleton… .”
“Yes, I read that article,” she responded, hoping he didn’t hear her disappointment. It was the
Tribune
story Rmembr1996 had emailed to her the same night he broke in and stole Josh.
Tribune
story Rmembr1996 had emailed to her the same night he broke in and stole Josh.
“Well, I figured it might help if you talked to this Middleton woman,” Dan said. “So I did some more digging and found her telephone number. It’s there on my refrigerator—by the menu for Azteca. It’s ten-thirty in Chicago. If you called her right now, you might catch her before she goes to bed. I think it’s worth a shot, don’t you?”
“Definitely,” Megan replied, getting to her feet. “Dan, I …”
She was about to tell him that he was amazing, but he cut her off. “Listen, I need to get this spare on the car. Please, call me and let me know if I can send my friend over. His name’s Chuck Bracken, and he lives just north of the U District. He can be there in ten minutes—if you say the word.”
“Thank you.” She headed to his front door and locked the dead bolt. “I’ll call you in a little while. By the way, Dan, I think you’re pretty terrific.”
“It’s about time you said that,” he cracked. “You be careful.”
Moving into the galley area, Megan looked at the Post-it on his refrigerator—right by the mini-menu for a Mexican restaurant:
Elisa Middleton—773-555-4159
“Bye, Meg,” he whispered. And then she heard him hang up.
It was unsettling. She wished he’d stayed on the line just a moment longer.
She didn’t get a chance to say good-bye.
With the hazard lights blinking, Dan was crouched down by the front passenger side of his Honda Accord. He’d pulled over to the shoulder of the road. He had a flashlight on the ground—aimed toward the front axle as he struggled to attach the spare. Moths and other insects fluttered around the beam. It wasn’t easy working with both hands when one of them was wrapped up in a small towel, but at least the bleeding had stopped.
Every few moments, he glanced up to see if another car was coming. Dan figured he was in Maple Valley, but it was more like the middle of nowhere. He could see a few lights dotted along the hilly, two-lane rural road—and then just darkness. To his left—across the pavement, a mass of tall trees loomed over him. At his right was a clearing, where he spotted a farmhouse in the distance, and an old shell of a barn. Both looked abandoned.
Dan finally fitted the spare onto the axle, but the towel around his hand was now filthy—as well as bloodstained. He looked up the road and saw a pair of headlights on the horizon. Maybe it was the AAA responder—just in time to help him screw on the lug nuts to attach the spare. He hoped the guy had a first-aid kit in the car, too.
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