The Green-Eyed Doll (36 page)

“I’ll see you back at the house after my soul-baring interviews.”

Catherine settled the strap to her purse over her shoulder and went into the garage office to pay the repair bill. Her hand shook when she handed over the money. Her old car had better run like new. The woman in the office led her outside where the mechanic walked over and opened her car door.

She recognized him from the Saddleback. He was the friend JC had recommended to fix her car, but she decided not to mention JC’s death. “Danny, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am. The car’s ready to go, and the AC’s also working fine.”

“Thank you. I’m leaving in a few days. I need it to be dependable.” She patted the top of her car then slid into the comfortable feeling of an old friend.

Catherine pulled out onto the street and mentally rehearsed what she’d say to that bitch at the TV station. The main thing would be to keep her temper in check. Catherine wanted to tell Sylvia how much damage and pain her news story had caused, but that wasn’t today’s mission. There was a story to be told, and if the media would listen, maybe the rest of the people would too.

Catherine yawned and fought back exhaustion. The nightmares returned with a vengeance last night; a confusing mess of horrible images made rest impossible. She slammed on her brakes barely stopping at a red light. Her reaction time seemed to move in slow motion. Yet when her cell rang, she jumped. “Hello.”

“This is Danny from the garage. I think my wallet fell out when I test drove your car. I can’t find it here at the shop.”

“Let me pull over and check.” Catherine stopped on the shoulder of the road and felt around on the seat. She opened the door, stepped out, finding nothing. She told Danny to hold, and then she set her phone down. Catherine squatted beside the car and ran her hand under the seat. Sure enough, she pulled a man’s billfold out in her hand. She grabbed the phone. “Danny. I found it. I’ll bring it back to the garage.”

“I’ll take it.”

She jumped and whirled, striking at the sound of a male voice standing right behind her. Danny stood just out of reach. She clapped her hand over her heart and gasped for breath. “Damn. I could’ve hurt you. How’d you know where I was?”

He slid a gun from his pocket and pointed it at her. “I followed you. Turn the phone off and toss it on the seat.”

“Danny. No.” Catherine jerked her head to the side looking for an escape route or someone to shout out to. The gun moved up and pointed at her heart.

“Goddammit. Don’t ruin this.” His chest heaved, and he leaned close to her face. “Don’t you dare. Understand?”

She nodded. His eyes were glassy, and his hand trembled. “Now what?

“Get in my pickup.” His hand wrapped around her arm in a bruising grip. He pulled her to the driver’s side, opened the door, and then shoved her in. “Over there. Get on the floor.”

Catherine’s pulse hammered, but she did as instructed, anything to put distance between them. She folded her knees up to fit in the small space. With the gun aimed between her eyes, he drove away. Random thoughts rushed through her mind. Did anyone see what happened? Had they called the sheriff’s office? If they had, Matt would come. No matter how angry he was with her. Matt would come.

“Talk to me, Danny. What’s going on? Please don’t get yourself into trouble. Somebody might have seen us. The sheriff is probably on the way. Pull over and let me out. No hard feelings. Okay?” A compulsion to speak, to reason with him had taken over. “Stop right here before it’s too late.”

“
Shut up
,” he screamed. “That cocksucker isn’t smart enough to find his dick in the dark. He don’t scare me none. Keep talking and I’ll drop by and pay a visit to that old bitch you seem to be so crazy about. How long’s it been you think since she’s had a good fuck?”

Fear for Emma rocketed through her nervous system. Catherine fought to control her bladder. She pulled her panic inside. She’d learned while in the woman’s shelter how to diffuse or at least slow down a temper tantrum. Her martial arts training taught her how to remain calm and defend herself. At the first opportunity, she’d put those to the test.

His gun hand shook. Sweat ran down his neck. The inside of the truck was sweltering.

“You forced me to move too fast. Made me change plans. After that news story broke, getting you alone was gonna be impossible. You’re a big time celebrity now everybody knows you killed your husband. Let me say, you won’t get that chance with me. You’ve been a naughty doll.”

“If I did something to upset you….” Her words trailed off. Mouth went dry. One word stopped her cold. Doll.

“Oh. You finally catching up? Well, I don’t have time to explain. I’ve got to get back to work. Can’t have the boss start wondering about me. You and me gonna get a few things straight later tonight.”

Danny shot her a look, eyes flat, his lips turned down into a snarl. She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from throwing up. The blood rushed from her head, and she struggled to hang on to the light. She refused to blackout. The way to survive was to stay alert and pay attention to everything. Learn as much as possible. A quick glance at her watch said they’d been driving for twenty minutes. Which direction? Where to?

The odors in the cab of his truck nauseated her. The smell of fear and hate coupled with the raw heat from the sun beating down on the pickup pitched her stomach into turmoil. She gagged.

“Don’t you puke in my truck.”

“I’m cooking down here. My clothes are stuck to my body. If you don’t turn the air on, I might not be able to control myself.”

“Put your hands under your ass?” He waved the pistol at her.

“What?”

“Sit on your hands or sweat. Your choice.”

After Catherine managed to wiggle her hands far enough under her to satisfy him, he held the gun and fiddled with the air conditioner buttons at the same time. She held her breath. How easy it would be for him to accidently squeeze the trigger. The air came on full blast, but she couldn’t feel much from her position. Danny had the vents pointed straight at his face. He stretched his neck and the blood ran from her head. Scratches. Dear God.

When the pickup left the pavement, Catherine listened closely. The road was filled with potholes. A few minutes later, Danny stopped and let out a big sigh.

“We made it. We’re home. Safe and sound.”

The change in him sent ice crystals spiraling up Catherine’s spine. He’d morphed in front of her eyes from an angry, desperate lunatic to an excited child. He turned the engine off and ran around to her side.

“Easy getting out. Let me help.” He slid his sweaty hands under her arms and pulled her to her feet. “It’s not much, but it’s private.”

Catherine scanned the outside of the mobile home and its surroundings. She couldn’t see the road from where she stood. He’d isolated her somewhere deep in a heavily wooded area. No—in a thicket. Matt’s words came to mind. He and his men tried to search a thicket on JC’s property. JC and Danny couldn’t have been partners. Could they? Was Matt searching this area? Hope rose and soared through her heart.

“Go in the house, Catherine. You’re looking for a way out. Believe me when I tell you there isn’t one. You can scream your lungs out. Ain’t nobody gonna hear.” The glint behind his eyes turned icy. “So forget escape.”

He held her hand and led her in the house. “You’ll be happy here with me. You made it clear you wanted me. Out here it’s just the two of us.”

He shoved her down on a bed and jerked one of her shoes off. She watched in horror while he snapped a handcuff around her ankle. No way was she making a sound when the metal bit into her skin.

“I’ve got to get back to work. Bathroom’s right there. Make use of it as you see fit.”

Danny hurried to the kitchen and a few minutes later returned with a Dairy Dream cup containing a drink poured over ice. “In case you get thirsty before I get back. This’ll have to tide you over.”

Without another word, he left. Catherine squeezed her eyes shut, breathed deeply for a second. Images of what could happen when Danny returned flashed through her mind. Grasping onto a thread of reason, she refused to believe it was her time to die.

She looked around the bedroom. A small chest of drawers was wedged into one corner, a closet with mirrored sliding glass doors, and the bed filled the space.

Three women had been raped and murdered. Had those women died on the mattress where she now sat? “Shit.” Catherine jumped and ran. The small chain attached to the handcuff tangled around her foot and sent her crashing to the floor face first. She scrambled backward into the hall, unable to wrench her gaze away. The bedroom was a death chamber. A tremor rocked her body, and what felt like millions of ants stung under her skin.

Now wasn’t the time to lose control. She pulled herself together and inspected the cuff around her ankle, ignoring the bruise already forming. She tugged at the chain, stood, and followed it back to its origin. The damn thing ran under the bed and through a small hole in the floor. It had to be anchored to something underneath the trailer.

Catherine pushed herself to her feet and walked the length of her tether. She could make it to the bathroom sink and toilet. Fully aware the other women had probably done the same, she methodically conducted a search for anything to use as a weapon or a way to unlock the cuff. The places she couldn’t walk to, she scanned carefully.

She tested the drink Danny left for her. It tasted like stale, bitter iced tea, but at least it was cold and wet. Before the second swallow, a memory of something she’d seen on the kitchen counter blasted into her mind. She retraced her steps down the hall and studied the kitchen counter. A medicine bottle and capsules lay on the counter. A few of them had been pulled apart.

“You should’ve put those up before you left to get back to work. Got in a hurry, didn’t you?” Careful not to let the ice fall in the toilet, she poured out the liquid contents of the drink. The cup with the ice was laid on its side next to the deathbed. Catherine sat on the floor and planned her escape. She’d be ready when Danny returned.

****

Friday, September 8th, 5:00 p.m.

“You’re gut was right...again.” Ash looked up from reading the report from Jessie’s autopsy. “If she scratched JC, we didn’t see them. Could’ve been under his clothes.”

“Reinhardt sent everything he dug out from under her fingernails to the feds. Now we wait. Too bad she didn’t gouge an eye out, make him easier to ID. Maybe she got him on the face.”

Matt’s eyelids felt like raw sandpaper every time he blinked. No sleep for him last night. He and the dog had tried to sort out how their life had gotten so messed up. Benedict had stuck to Matt’s side, rubbing his head against Matt at every opportunity. Somehow, he’d picked up on Matt’s pain, and they’d connected through their mutual loss.

“Old buddy, you need to get some rest. You look like crap.”

“Don’t mother me.”

Ash had his mouth open when the conference room door opened, and Jake stepped inside. “You have an emergency call.” He nodded at the phone on the conference room table. “Line one. It’s Emma Williamson, she—”

Matt punched the button and had Emma on the speaker before Jake finished his sentence. “Matt here. What’s up?”

“It’s Catherine. She hasn’t come back, and I’m getting worried. By now she should’ve dressed for work and gone to the Saddleback.”

“Come back from where?” Matt asked.

“The newspaper offices and TV station. She went to set the record straight.”

“How early? What record?” Matt stood, and the hair on his arms rose with him.

“I drove her to town so she could pick up her car around eight this morning. Her first stop should’ve been before nine. Catherine was determined to tell her side of the story and make it clear you had no knowledge of her past. Then she was coming home, and...” Emma paused.

“Go on.” Matt shoved his cell across to Ash. “Call Catherine,” he whispered. Without hesitation, Ash scrolled through to a number and pushed Call.

“She was coming home to start packing.”

“Emma, listen carefully. Get a pen and write down my cell. If you see her pull in the driveway call me that second. Or if she calls, do the same. You said she was driving her own car again?”

“Yes. I don’t know her license plate number.”

“I’ll get it.” Matt’s mind jumped from thought to thought. Ash laid the cell down and shook his head. “Emma, I promise, you’ll hear as soon as I know something.” Matt disconnected.

Jake stood in the doorway, listening, his face was somber. “I checked with Marty while you were on the phone. She hasn’t talked to Catherine. Marty had called, got voicemail.”

“Thanks. You’re always two steps ahead of me.” Matt combed his hands through his hair and pushed back the gnawing in his gut.

Ash and Jake stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of his desk. Matt tried to convince himself that with his dedicated men on his side they’d find her. “Let’s try to locate her car and her phone.”

“Matt,” Jake said in his calm and steady voice. “I’ll get the BOLO and the GPS trace on the cell started right away. You have to let me take point. You’re too close.”

“I can’t. If she’s done something crazy, it’s my fault.” Matt leaned back in his chair and tried to catch his breath.

“You think she could’ve gotten in and out without Emma seeing her?” Ash theorized. “Maybe she wanted to avoid a tearful goodbye. She might already be gone.”

“I need to know.” He pushed away and started for the door. Matt had to be sure she wasn’t in trouble. Had he driven her out of town? Given the way he’d behaved, he wouldn’t blame her for leaving.

Ash followed with hunched shoulders and hands stuffed into his pockets. Matt read the signs of worry on his old partner.

Matt stopped at Sue’s desk on the way out. “Tell Jake to fill you in. He can call or radio me with any information he comes up with.” He ignored the questions in her eyes. There wasn’t time to explain.

Jake radioed Matt before they reached Catherine’s house. They’d located her car. He spun the cruiser around and headed for the address. It was a few blocks away from the courthouse and a mile from the garage where her car had been repaired. He sent a deputy to the garage with instructions to talk to everyone there who’d spoken to her. Had she seemed upset? Mentioned leaving town?