Touching Evil (28 page)

In that kind of environment, where trust was at a premium and human life utterly devoid of worth, he’d come to value the friendship that had sprung up between him and Matt.

Maybe he’d always known he’d pay for that lapse.

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t even realized she’d moved until he felt her against his back, her arms twining around his waist.  “That task force was a horrible risk,” she said fiercely.  “And it’s still costing you.  Whether you’d spared Baldwin or not, Moreno was going to follow up on everyone arrested.  There was always a chance it would end like this.”

Cam let out a deep breath.  Her words were true enough.  But chances were that Matt had been the best-equipped to trace him.  They’d spent a lot of time together.  He’d know Cam better than any of the rest of them could.  “Moreno is still weakened.  Several of his lieutenants were scooped up in that bust and a couple talked.”  He didn’t tell her that one of those men had been executed while in federal custody.  That wasn’t exactly the sort of news guaranteed to allay her fears.  “A lot of his money and energy is going toward rebuilding.  New routes, new officials to bribe…the hits to his operation have been substantial.”  At least according to Harlow, more immediate pressure on the man was being brought to bear.  If the agent was right, Moreno’s long reach might be hampered for a while.

He loosened her hands and turned to scoop her up in his arms, enjoying the moment when surprise chased away the worry in her expression.  He’d told her far more than he’d meant to.  Which was something he had in common with all the offenders Sophia had interviewed over the years.  She had a way of listening that extracted information not willingly offered.  The realization was a little discomfiting.

“We’re losing sleep discussing something we can’t change.”  He strode with her to the doorway, paused.  Obligingly she turned off the light.  Then he continued with her back to the bedroom.  “This deal with Moreno is being handled by the feds.”  Which made him feel marginally better about Sophia’s safety while at his side.  

Dropping her on the rumpled bed, he followed her down on it and pulled a sheet over them.  Then he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close.  “Oh, and Dr. Channing?”  He rested his forehead against hers and let his eyes droop.  

“When this thing is over I’m having the shirt bronzed.”

*  *   *  *

“This is a nice place.  Quiet.  I recognized that the last time I came.  Come over here.  Now.”

Her legs had gone leaden.  Lucy had to force them to obey while her mind scrambled to comprehend his words.  

The last time he’d been here
?  And how had he arrived this time?  There had been no sign of a vehicle on the property.

“It’s not safe for you here.”  Her voice was remarkably steady as she moved to obey him.  “The police are looking for you.  You need to go far away so they can’t find you.”  Gaze darting around the room, she looked for anything she could use as a weapon.  Saw nothing more lethal than a lamp.  She stifled a wild laugh.  A lamp against a gun, being wielded by a man who had killed numerous times already.  She didn’t like her odds.

“It feels safe.”  His mouth curled, the expression in his eyes a little dreamy.  “The last time I came that’s exactly what I thought.  How safe it felt.  Of course it’s safer since I disposed of the gun I found in your bedroom.”

The words dashed a single thread of hope she hadn’t even realized she’d been clinging to.  “You should go.  I have money that will help.  And you can take my car, my phone.  It will be hours before anyone knows you were…”  Her words tapered off as she saw for the first time the wall over her couch.  Everything she’d had hanging on it had been taken off and piled neatly on the floor.  Black writing was scrawled on the beige paint.  Reading it, she went cold.

safe with lucy lovely lovely lucy so quiet its so quiet here she knows how to be quiet

“You were quite late,” he said matter-of-factly, following the direction of her gaze.  “It calms me to journal.  I waited for you, though.  I’m very good at waiting.  I wait for just the right woman.”  

Chills skated over her skin.  He’d stalked Courtney Van Wheton, she recalled sickly.  An eyewitness had helped Agent Turner draw the sketch of this man in the park watching the woman days before her kidnapping.  Maybe he was the one Vance had sent out to scout the next victim.

Victim.
  The word returned a little strength to her limbs.  She’d be damned if she was going to allow herself to be victimized by this sick freak.  “I can help you get away.”  She took a tiny step toward the kitchen.  Involuntarily her gaze landed on the defaced wall again.

quiet so quiet were soul mates lucy and me I’ll teach her to be quiet so very very quiet

Her stomach lurched.  Suddenly she was certain that whatever role Vance had played in the kidnappings and tortures, this man was the one who had killed the women at the end.  

“I picked you out.  The first time I saw you at the river with Janice.  I knew you were the one when I watched how gentle you were with her.  How tender.”  He approached her deliberately, the gun still leveled.

“You…you watched us?”  Immediately she realized how easy it would have been.  The spot was surrounded on two sides with woods.  He could have been anywhere in those dense trees and at night no one would have seen him.  

“I was glad it was you.”  Another step toward her.  Lucy took one another away.  “I knew then that you and I were alike.  We both love the dead.”

 There were knives in the kitchen.  A butcher block full of them that may be no match against a gun, but certainly evened the odds.  “The victims at the river were embalmed.  That was you?”  A tiny step away.  Keep him talking.  And maybe he wouldn’t notice that she was moving infinitesimally across the room.  

He nodded, a pleased expression on his face.  For the first time she noticed the marker in the sagging pocket of his sweater.  She recognized it as one he must have taken out of her kitchen drawer.  “They can love me longer when they’re embalmed.  I knew you’d see that.  I knew you’d understand.”

“Oh, I do,” she assured him grimly.  Her muscles bunched as she prepared to flee.  “I understand exactly.”

“Benally!”

Every ounce of blood in Lucy’s veins did an abrupt freeze.  She recognized Gavin’s voice at the back door, although she’d never heard it before raised to a bellow.  Gone was his normally affable tone.  The fury in his tone was palpable.

It seemed to ignite the fury of the man standing in front of her.

A house-rattling knock followed Gavin’s shout and melted her stupor.  The last thing she wanted to do was take the fight to the kitchen, closer to Gavin.  Taking advantage of her captor’s distraction she raced for the lamp across the room.  Grazed it with her fingertips before being hit from behind with a flying tackle that knocked her to the floor, the breath driven from her lungs.  

“Not one sound,” the man murmured.  The gun’s barrel was pressed beneath her ear.  

“You think you can call all the shots between us?  I’m not going to be brushed off  by mind-blowing sex, sharp words and a snotty attitude.  Although you’re masterful at all.”

Gavin’s words made it even more difficult to draw a breath.  It was the very real danger he was in at that moment that had her remaining utterly still, rather than the cool metal pressed against her.  Once he realized she wasn’t coming to the door he’d give up.  Go away.  And then the only one she’d have to worry about was herself.

That thought actually provided a thread of hope.  
Go away, Gavin
.  The words careened through her mind, a demand.  A plea
.  Please, please go away
.

The slender hope shattered in the next instant when a tiny sound was heard.  The knob of the kitchen door was turning.  

She opened her mouth to scream a warning.  A hand clapped over her lips, muffling the attempt.  She could feel her captor’s utter stillness above her.  Knew that despite the weapon he still held on her, all his attention was focused on the approaching threat.  Lucy writhed beneath her captor in an attempt to recapture his attention.  A footstep sounded in the kitchen.   She tried to free a hand to peel his from over her mouth.  When that failed, she managed to wrestle a foot away long enough to bring it down twice in two soft thumps of warning before the intruder trapped her leg with one of his.   

“You use whatever tools you have at your disposal to keep people at a distance.” The anger in Gavin’s voice was threaded with a softness that brought a sting of tears to her eyes.  “I know you, Luce.  Doesn’t matter a damn how long it’s been since we met, I
know
you.  And we’re…”

It was hard, so hard to watch him reach the doorway.  To take in the scene in a split second.  And to wait, barely daring to breathe, for the moment her attacker would shift the weapon to aim it instead at Gavin.   Everything inside her coiled in readiness for that moment.

“My keys are right here.”  After meeting Lucy’s gaze for one terrible second, Gavin looked at the offender, raising his arm slowly to allow his keys to dangle from his fingers.  “Rental plates on the car, so highway cops aren’t going to think twice about it heading west.  Lots of places for a person to lose himself in the west.  Yellowstone.  Oregon’s Willamette Forest.  Or LA.”  He gave that lop-sided smile that too frequently made Lucy’s resolve weaken.  “It can be as easy to lose yourself among three million people as it can be in the wilderness.  You’ve got a lot of options.  All you have to do is walk out of here and choose one.”

She sensed the intruder’s response the instant she felt the gun leave her throat.   Lurching violently beneath him, she struggled with all her might to disrupt his aim while Gavin dove for cover toward the kitchen door.  

The sound of the shot was deafening.  The first bullet caught Gavin in the shoulder before he hit the floor and rolled away.  Her attacker rose, yanking Lucy to her feet as he dragged her with one arm around her neck a few feet toward the doorway.   Gavin was at the counter, drawing a knife from the butcher block.  

She threw her weight against her attacker, knocking him off balance.  But not before he squeezed the trigger again.  

Time freeze-framed to a slow reel of horror-filled milliseconds.  The shot shattered the silence.  Blood spread on Gavin’s white shirt.  He looked shocked.  Grabbed for the counter.  Lucy gave a powerful lunge to free herself.  To go to him.  She was held fast.  Powerlessly she watched his grip slip from the counter.  He fell to his knees, his expression dazed.  When their eyes met, the helplessness she saw in his was a vise to her heart.  He fell to his knees, still clutching the knife.

Then the weapon clattered to the floor.  Followed by Gavin’s body.

Lucy looked at the intruder.  Saw the intent on his face as his focus remained on Gavin.  “I understand now.  Look at me.  Look at me.”  The insistence in her tone finally diverted his attention.  He eased the pressure on the trigger to glance at her.

“His spirit is gone.”  Gavin might be dying.  The crushing pressure in her chest that came from that knowledge made it difficult to speak.  But another bullet would make his death certain.  “There is nothing to stop us now.  There’s nothing stopping us now.  We can go somewhere.  Get to know each other better.”  

The things the freak had said to her earlier made it difficult to speak.  Relentlessly she pushed the memory aside.  Focused on getting him away from the man bleeding on her kitchen floor.  “I have a place we can go.  We can be alone and spend as much time as we need to learn about each other.”  She had his attention now and Lucy forced her mind to function.  

“My grandparents have a hogan on Navajo Nation lands.  It’s been empty for years but it’s isolated.  The land around it is breathtaking.”  She hadn’t been in her grandmother’s hogan since she was eight.  Had no idea if it still existed.  Her mother had frittered away the money from the sale of the land before Lucy’s tenth birthday.  “We can be alone there.  No one would question my presence on my family’s land.”

Suspicion was stamped on the man’s face.  “You’re lying.  Women do that sometimes.  You tried to trick me earlier.  Why should I believe you?”

A barely inaudible sound reached her.  It might have been a groan from Gavin.  Or it could have been her imagination.  She spoke louder to cover the noise, and faster, her eyes fastened on the offender.  “The man you just killed was a threat to me.  Now I’m free.  Free to do whatever I want.”  She saw Gavin’s foot twitch.  Just a fraction of a movement, but the sight of it had her going weak with relief.  She laid a hand on the stranger’s arm to keep his focus on her.  The small intimacy made her flesh crawl.  “This is what I want.  A new start.  With a man I can trust.  Can I trust you?”

He stared hard at her for a moment.  Two.  It took every bit of her will not to look away, despite the loathing she felt.  Despite everything this man was believed to have done, she didn’t see evil in his eyes.

She saw crazy.  And that scared her even more.

“Navajo Mountain can be seen in the distance behind the hogan.  Dawn paints it pink and gray and when one looks at it during those early morning hours you’re filled with a kind of inner peace that most people spend their whole lives seeking.  It’s a very special place.”

“I took Janice and the others to my special place,” he said slowly.  “I could hear the sound of the river nearby telling me everything was all right.  No one could hurt us there.”

She swallowed hard.  Lucy couldn’t forget for a moment that the reason no one could hurt those women by the river was because this man had already killed them.  She reminded herself that crazy didn’t mean less dangerous.  Just the opposite.

“I’ve been to your special place.  Now I’d like to show you mine.”  She had no specific plan in mind other than getting him out of here.  But a road trip would offer a lot of opportunities for escape.  Right now she had to get him out of the house.  Away from Gavin.

It seemed an eternity before his free hand came up to touch hers fleetingly.  “I’d like that, too.  But first we have a job to do.  If you don’t bury the dead, either in the ground or in the water, they’ll come back.  That’s what Mommy did.  Do you have a shovel?  We could do it behind the house before we leave.”