Whisper of Revenge (A Cape Trouble Novel Book 4) (23 page)

“Unless you have some use for the house.”

Sounding unhappy, she said, “Unless.”

Without a warrant, he wouldn’t be able to comb through
records on recent listings at Fletcher Realty.  Their certainty about the
identity of the kidnapper was based on logic and gut feelings.  Without
tangible evidence, no judge would sign that warrant.  Daniel grimaced. 
Particularly when the suspect in question was a prominent local businessman.

But he put out the word.  Had anyone noticed a real estate
sign in front of a home that was not on his – or her – list to check?  He was
embarrassed to have to mentally add the her.  Cape Trouble P.D. had yet to hire
a woman officer in its history.  Even the sheriff’s department only had three
or four.

His phone rang.  Elias again.  Daniel pulled over.  “Find
anything?”

“No,” the artist said tersely.  “You?”

He shared his own idea about a vacant house that might not
show up in multiple listing services records.

“If there’s no sign, either…”

It could be any house in the county.  Yes, that had occurred
to Daniel.

Elias muttered something Daniel didn’t entirely catch, but
assumed was obscene.  “Tonight,” he said then.  “Whatever he intends, it’ll be
after dark this evening.”

“I agree.  No benefit to him in delay.  If he still thinks he
can pop up, unsuspected, he has to move soon.”

“He hasn’t asked for ransom.”

“He can’t think her ex-husband would pay it,” Daniel said.

“No, but he might decide I should.”

“Unless Hannah has told him, he doesn’t know you paid the
first time around.”

“I’m sure he’d like to soak me either way.”

“Is that what you think will happen?” Daniel asked.

After a pause, Elias said, “No.  He got the money.  Now he
wants me to suffer.  He wants to take someone important away from me.  If he
can do it in a way that will make me look bad, that’s what he’ll go for.”

“Maybe you should join me, so he can’t set you up.”

Elias hesitated again.  “Maybe.  But not yet.  Sunset is
hours away.  I still have some ideas.”

Gaze on the dashboard clock, Daniel started to set his phone
down, but changed his mind.  Apprehension felt like a noxious gas that made it
hard to draw a full breath.  He dialed Sophie’s number, needing to hear her
voice.

*****

The door sprang open without any warning sounds.  Fletch
stepped inside, smiling.  “Headache?”

Hannah only stared at him.  The smile was just…bizarre.  He
looked so much like he had when he was showing her property.

If she’d been sitting up, she might have tried rushing him. 
As it was, by the time she scrambled off the mattress that lay on the floor,
he’d have had plenty of time to step out and close and lock the door again.

A chance would come.  She had to believe that.

His smile died.  “Not your usual warm and lying self, are
you?”

The venomous tone infuriated her.  “When did I ever lie to
you?”

“When you were ready to date, I’d be the first to know.  Or
don’t you remember?”

“I was joking!  Your invitations all sounded so…casual.  As
if the idea of us having lunch together had just popped into your head.  I
thought you were, I don’t know, networking.”

“Even after you accepted my gifts?”

“I didn’t know who was giving them to me!”

“Another lie,” he snapped.  “On top of telling me you
weren’t ready to date.”

“It wasn’t a lie!”  Her head gave a warning throb.  “I had
no intentions of getting involved with anyone.”

“And yet, the minute
Burton
asked, you didn’t
hesitate.”

What could she say? 
I never in a million years imagined
he’d ask?  He is the one man I couldn’t refuse?
  Not smart.

“Do you know how much I hate him?”  His eyes bored into
hers.  “Or for how long I’ve hated him?”

Hannah didn’t dare shake her head.  “No,” she whispered.

“For thirty years.  Even when we were children, he was
always the golden boy, I was the sidekick.  People thought I was lucky to be
his friend.  With him walking on water, nobody would have noticed if I’d been
drowning right behind him!”

Wow.  So much for a grudge dating from something that
happened in high school.

“I thought—”

His eyes narrowed.  She had considered him a handsome man,
but now, with his snarling lips and bitter expression, he was frightening. 
This was not the congenial real estate agent she’d known.

“You thought what?”

“That you were good friends.  Didn’t you live with him and
his mom for a while?”

“Her idea.  Not his.  He didn’t want me.  His mother…she’s
kind.  She thought of me as another son.  She still does.  Otherwise—”  He
stopped.

“You’d have killed her, too.”  He truly was a monster, she
thought.

“Of course,” Fletch said, as if that was only reasonable. 
“Then he’d have been completely alone.”

Hannah shuddered, sorry she had when he smiled with pleasure
that made her skin crawl.

“I wonder what kind of lover you’d be?”  His gaze crawled
over her.  “Does he know?”

She wouldn’t answer.  Couldn’t.  But her silence was an
answer.  His expression became even uglier.

“When?  The nights he spent at your house?  Or the one you
spent so cozily at his?”

Hannah kept her mouth clamped shut.

“He enjoyed you and his house both for the last time that
night.”  He shook his head.  “You showed very poor judgement, Hannah.”

She had to say something.  “Nobody can…can love to order.”

“Love?”  His lips curled.  “You aren’t stupid enough to
think he loves you, are you?”

Love?  It was awfully soon, but despite his fears, Elias had
reached out in a way he hadn’t in years.  Because of her smile.  He wanted to
paint her.  And look at everything he had done for her.

“If he doesn’t,” she said steadily, buoyed by a sudden
faith, “hurting me doesn’t accomplish much, does it?”

He shrugged.  “You were mine.  He likes taking things away
from me.”

“But he didn’t know—”  Seeing his expression, Hannah gave
up.  Reasoning with this man was useless.  Fear turned to shards of ice in her
bloodstream.  “How long will you keep me here?”

He smiled, once again the jovial Realtor who had been so
helpful.  “You might want to get some sleep.  We’ll be out late tonight.”  The
door closed behind him before she could shape another question.  This time she
heard a metallic snap.  Padlock?

*****

Asleep at last.  Elias looked down at the two boys tucked
into the same twin bed, Ian closest to him.  In the thin band of light from the
hall, he could see the anxiety still on that freckled face.  Ian was bound to
have nightmares.  Elias hoped he didn’t wake the family every hour.

He drew the covers higher, tucked them over both boys’
shoulders, even if it was a warm night, then slipped out of the room, careful
to leave the door open the promised six inches.

However quietly he’d moved, Deputy Vincent stepped out of
the living room to meet him.

“Asleep?”

“Finally.”  The Vincents had summoned Elias in desperation. 
Ian wanted Elias.  If he couldn’t have his mommy, only Elias would do.  Now
Elias followed John Vincent into the dimly lit living room.  “I’m betting he
has nightmares.”

“You want to stay the night?”

“No.”  Elias knew with terrifying certainty that Hannah’s
time was limited.  Once the sun went down, that certainty had grown until the
itch between his shoulder blades became painful.  “Before I go, can we turn on
the ten o’clock news?” he asked.

Vincent picked up the remote and aimed it at the TV.  “It’ll
be on any minute.”

His wife sat curled at one end of the sofa, her tension
palpable.  “Wouldn’t Chief Colburn have called if he knew anything?”

“Yes.”  Elias rolled his shoulders in an effort to ease the
pressure.  “I want to see what information he decided to release.”  The deputy
sat down beside his wife, but Elias remained on his feet through the
commercials leading into the local late news.  He stiffened when the anchor
appeared, expression grave, talking about the shocking events of the night
before when a courageous mother had freed her child from a kidnapper, only to
be abducted herself.

“Chief Daniel Colburn of the Cape Trouble Police Department
spoke about the investigation.”

The camera switched to Daniel behind a podium, in uniform
and looking very official but exhausted.

“At this point, we do not believe Ms. Moss was abducted for
ransom.  We do have a person of interest.”

Reporters yelled questions.

He shook his head.  “I can’t yet share a name.  Tonight,
we’re asking for help from viewers.  We’re attempting to find a house where we
know five-year-old Ian Cline was held captive for several days.  The house may
be for sale, but probably has not yet appeared in the multiple listing service
or in real estate advertisements.  We aren’t certain, but it may have a ‘For
Sale’ sign in front.  What we know is that this is an old home with a basement
that has at least some high windows.  We also know it’s next door to a house
painted a yellowish brown.  A fence needing repair or replacement stands
between those two houses.  The lawn may be shaggy, certainly to the side of the
house.”  He looked into the camera.  “If this sounds familiar to you, please
call.”  He gave a number that then scrolled across the screen.  With a brief
nod, Daniel stepped back.

Elias didn’t listen to the exchange between reporter and
anchor.  Sharing the information Daniel had was risky – but everyone searching
for Hannah knew she might not be alive by morning.  They’d decided not to take
a chance of Fletch watching the five o’clock news and panicking.  But they’d
run out of places to look, and he’d be moving her soon.

“Thank you for taking care of Ian,” he said to the
Vincents.  “I wish I could be here for him, but finding his mother has to come
first.”

Walker’s mother jumped to her feet and came to him.  “Of course
it does!  Ian will understand.”  She rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.  “Hannah
is a good friend and a loving mother.”  Her shaky smile wasn’t very
successful.  “I’ll be praying for her.”

“Thanks.”  He met the deputy’s gaze and nodded.

Walking out to his Land Rover, Elias looked up at stars
appearing between scudding clouds.  He searched the sky until he glimpsed the
moon, still a sliver, before it, too, went behind a cloud.  Tonight was even
darker than last night.  Not a superstitious man, he still found himself
thinking of the old saying that the witching hour is nigh.  Scowling, he
climbed in and started the engine, then tried to clear his mind.  The tide
would reach its highest point in about an hour and a half.  Knowing
Fletch…where would he take her?

His phone rang, jolting his heart into another rhythm. 
“Daniel?”

“We had an immediate caller.  Sounds like we have our
house.  The SWAT team is setting up.  All we’re waiting on is the warrant.”

“Where is it?”

“Jasper Beach.  You can’t participate, but if you want to be
there…”

Instinct guiding him, Elias shook his head even as he said,
“No.  I have some ideas in case he’s already moved her.”

“I’ll call the minute I know anything.” 

From behind his squad car, Daniel watched the black-clad
SWAT members silently move into positions surrounding the house, one of the
grand old ladies that had once formed the community of Jasper Beach, before the
low-rent cottages gathered like ants.  Street lighting in this small community
on the other side of the point from Cape Trouble was limited.  Even in the
dark, however, he could see how much work this tall Victorian house needed.

Two cops in full tactical gear eased onto the porch,
stopping with one to each side of the front door.  Their lieutenant must have
given them the go-ahead, because one hammered hard, waiting only a moment
before yelling, “Police!  We’re coming in!”  Then he and his partner used a ram
to slam the door open.

They ran inside, followed by others.  Some dark-suited SWAT
members crouched by garage level windows, semi-automatic weapons aimed at the
glass.

From inside came repeated shouts of “Police!  Hands in the
air!”  The thunder of booted feet on stairs.

Not two minutes later, one of the SWAT guys came out the
front door and, looking straight at Daniel, shook his head.

*****

An incoming surge reached Hannah’s knees.  She stopped in an
effort to keep to her feet.  Having her hands cuffed behind her back was not
only painful and awkward, it changed her center of balance.  Her captor yanked
the rope tied around her waist and she toppled forward into the salt water,
unable to break her fall.

Panic swept her as she choked on salt water.

A hand grabbed her under her arm and roughly hauled her up. 
“Your fault,” he said.

Spitting water and infuriated, she threw herself at him,
trying to knock him down, but the wave had receded and he dodged her.

“Bitch!”

Gagged, she couldn’t talk back…or scream.  She’d tried.

What if she just…sat down?  Was he strong enough to carry
her wherever he was so determined she should go?

If only it weren’t so dark.  Hannah knew they’d left Jasper
Beach and were wading toward the rocky finger that thrust out from the point
below the lighthouse.  The basalt shelf, underwater at high tide, was
treacherous, which was why the buoy anchored just beyond the last rock blinked
its warning outward to boaters.  The flickers of light from the shore side
still oriented her.

Had he forced that other woman to her death the same way? 
If so, this time, Fletch wasn’t bothering with props.  No artist’s easel, no
pretense of this being an accident.  Even if she hadn’t been kidnapped, her
wrists must be raw, evidence of her struggles with the handcuffs.

She sagged to her knees, then plopped to her butt.

He yelled his rage just as a wave surged in, the cold water
almost breast deep, lifting her.

Staring her defiance, she could barely make him out.  He
waited for the wave to retreat before walking to her side.  Even over the roar
of the surf, Hannah heard a small sound. 
Snick
.  He pressed the barrel
of his pistol to her temple.

“Two choices, Hannah.  I can shoot you now and walk away. 
Or you do what I tell you and, who knows, you might have a chance.”  Another
wave lifted her again.  Feet braced, he held the handgun steady.  She couldn’t
see his smirk, but she heard it.  “Maybe your lover will race to your rescue.”

A bullet to the brain or battered on the rocks? she thought
hysterically.  But…maybe one of Jasper Beach’s many senior citizens might
decide to go for a late night walk on the beach and see them.  Or… what if this
tide wasn’t as high as the one that had killed Elias’s artist friend?  Would
Fletch have calculated?  She could miraculously scramble high enough on a rock
to hold on, even if she didn’t have the use of her arms and hands.

Or maybe he’d just shoot her when they got there, but she
didn’t think so.  Replicating the other death meant something to him.

Hopelessness engulfed her.  Even so, Hannah rolled and tried
to get her feet under her.  Once again, a hand roughly boosted her to her feet.

Just ahead, white water frothed.

*****

Daniel stood for a long moment staring down at the mattress
that lay on a bare concrete floor.  A thin blanket lay crumpled near the foot. 
A long, red hair clung to the filthy white sheet.  A cop serving on the
multi-jurisdictional SWAT team had crouched and showed him fine, copper red
hairs on the floor where Ian had gotten his buzz-cut.

Lifting his gaze, Daniel turned slowly.  Two rough concrete
walls formed an L met by two sheet-rocked walls that had never been taped and
spackled.  Dents, dirty smears.  A solid wood door had had a shiny hasp
recently added on the outside.  The padlock was missing.  He’d already seen the
unfinished bathroom with a window that would have been way above a five-year-old’s
head.

If he’d released what information he had for the early news,
they might have found her.  The knowledge settled on his shoulders, a weight
he’d never be able to dislodge.  In his job, decisions were never easy, and
they sometimes had devastating consequences.

“I’ll call for a crime scene unit,” he said gruffly to the
SWAT lieutenant, and turned to walk out.  He got as far as the front porch
before he took out his phone.

Elias first.

*****

Elias parked beside a tiny cottage that sat closest to the
beach and the high point with the lighthouse that separated the unincorporated
community of Jasper Beach from Cape Trouble.  The shabby cottage was slated for
demolition.  This piece of ground would soon be the landing place for a
funicular, a kind of cable railway being built to carry guests from Rand
Bresler’s resort clinging high above down to the beach.

Only a dense fog could have made this night any darker.  He
could just make out the silver line of breaking waves.  Beyond, there was nothing,
not even a distant light on a passing ship.  He narrowed his eyes.  No, not
true; the buoy was out there.  If only the light swung in a full circle, it
might have been a help.

He was alone here for now, after having stopped by several
of Fletch’s favorite spots yet again.  Loner though he might be, Elias
appreciated knowing he’d soon have backup.  Sean Holbeck had called earlier,
wanting ideas for distributing the available sheriff’s deputies.

Elias had dredged up things he hadn’t thought of in a lot of
years.  Fletch had liked heights, he’d remembered, especially when he could
scare the shit out of someone else.  He’d have enjoyed Polly’s terror as her
car broke through the guardrail and went over the precipitous edge.

Holbeck assured Elias that sheriff’s deputies and the state
patrol were already driving the highway and paying close attention to turn-offs
and the condition of guardrails, a task made easier because traffic was so
scant at this time of night.  They had someone parked at the old resort, and
other officers were checking illegal campsites along the bluff above the beach.

Elias had been getting hoarse when he told Holbeck, “Fletch
had a reckless streak.  He got in trouble a few times swimming out too far, or
cutting it close trying to make it across some rocks before the tide got too
high.  He seemed…fascinated by the explosive power of the waves when they hit
rocks.”

Holbeck had promised to get more people down on the beach,
then to personally follow Elias as soon as he could.  He’d bring ropes, life
preserver, lights.  “If you go out, you be careful.”

Sure.  Careful.

And all this on a gamble he’d chosen the right place for
Fletch’s final scene. 
Best guess
, he told himself.  Powerful ocean
swells, rocks, a chance to replicate Amy’s death, this felt like Fletch.  He’d enjoy
taunting everyone he’d fooled:
I was smarter than all of you, who never even
suspected that she was murdered
.

Elias locked the Land Rover and dropped the keys behind a
back tire.  His phone, he might need.  Then he jogged toward the water.

*****

Fletch had to lift Hannah onto the basalt outcrop before climbing
up in front of her.  Despite the force of eons of pounding waves, these rocks were
still jagged.  Maybe she should have opted for the quicker death.

“Move it!”

Another yank forced her to stumble forward.  The rope, the
kind used for clotheslines, was thin enough to have enabled him to tie a tight
knot.  Hannah moved each foot carefully.  Although they seemed to be obeying
her commands, she couldn’t feel her feet at all, which would make it easy to
stumble.  The soles of her athletic shoes usually had good traction, but wet
now, they felt perilously slick.

The journey of what couldn’t be more than a hundred yards
felt as if it took forever.  Occasionally, the crescent moon would appear,
making her more aware of the foaming ocean around the rocks, the hiss when a
wave receded, the crash when the next struck.  Ahead was a taller outcrop,
black even against the night behind it.  Appearing ominous now, it was a
familiar part of the rugged point – and even that highest point disappeared
entirely at high tide.  Right now, she saw only a faint glow beyond it, where
the buoy floated.  Hannah realized how foolish her hope had been.  Unless he
removed her handcuffs, she wouldn’t be able to climb at all.

“Stop.”

Exhausted and in pain, she swayed where she stood, watching
as he…  What
was
he doing?  And then Hannah understood.

He had wrapped the other end of the rope around a narrow
column and was tying it.  He had just tethered her, like a goat staked out for
a predator.

With a burst of primal rage giving her unexpected new
strength, she leaped forward.  When he turned, she slammed into him with her
shoulder.  He bellowed, driven against the rough rock as she fell to her
knees.  When he shoved himself toward her, she head-butted him, even though
that brought her toppling down on her face, with no way to soften the fall. 
Despite the agony of torn flesh, she rolled against his legs.  Still yelling, he
took a step back, windmilled his arms and fell into the seething ocean.  Her
entire body on fire, she waited for him to reappear.

*****

Elias gave up thinking his eyes would adjust to the light. 
What light?  Better question, what was he doing out here?

Hannah
.  He tried to picture her sunny smile, and
failed.  He’d failed her in too many ways. 
I’m sorry, Hannah.  So sorry.

Wracked with despair, Elias was convinced he was on a
useless quest by the time he was close to the rocks.  Waist-deep when each wave
struck, he was barely able to keep from being flung back toward the beach or
pulled under.  The beam of the heavy-duty flashlight he held high was useless
against the vastness of night and ocean.  What were the odds Fletch would have
brought Hannah here?  There were too many similar rocky outcrops along the
coast.  He could have taken her into the woods, or drowned her in the river. 
Tied her to a piling beneath the long pier, where she’d be engulfed as the tide
rose.

That thought was so horrific, Elias faltered, staggering
when the next wave tried to knock him off his feet.  He looked back toward the
beach and saw only the scattering of porchlights and streetlights normal to
late night in the tiny community.  Holbeck might have gotten pulled away.

But then he heard a yell.  A sea lion?  But the sound wasn’t
right.  With renewed energy, he forged toward the rocks.

He had to cling to them until a wave receded and he was able
to scramble up.  He heard nothing else over the constant roar of the sea, but
he started forward carefully, using the beam of the flashlight to choose his
footing.  Stepping into a hole could be fatal.  Much of the rocky landscape was
already submerged by the froth of the rising tide.  The occasional flashes of
light from the buoy helped him choose a path.  Soaked, his body numb, he kept
going, even knowing that if he didn’t turn back soon, he wouldn’t make it.

*****

Frantic, Hannah somehow maneuvered until her knees were under
her, then her feet.  Her thigh muscles felt like jelly, nowhere near strong
enough to get her up from a crouch without a free hand to brace herself.  The
next big wave would drag her off the rocks if she couldn’t stand.  Pushing her shoulder
blades to the basalt column, she awkwardly worked her way up.  She had to be
scraping off more layers of skin…but she was so
cold
, she could hardly
feel the damage.  She fumbled blindly for the knot Fletch had just tied.

He was gone.  She had no idea if, satisfied, he was letting
the surf carry him to shore, or whether he was dead.  She
hoped
he was
dead.  Every breath wanted to be a sob, but she was gagging instead against the
cloth tied tightly over her mouth.  The numbness extended to her fingers, she
discovered;  with the roughness of the rock, she couldn’t even
find
the
knot, never mind undo it.

A wave hit, water reaching mid-calf, the spray striking her
face and somehow getting into her sinuses.

Gagging again, she went still, straining her eyes.  Was that
a light?  How could it be so close?

Oh God, she thought – he
was
coming back.  But…why
would he?

Maybe she was seeing the white light reported by people who
had returned from near-death experiences.  Only, this light wasn’t really
white.

She kept staring, probably crying.  The next wave, higher
yet, lifted her before reluctantly retreating, the pull almost more than she
could resist.  The tide rose so much faster than she’d ever imagined.  No
wonder unwary people got trapped.

I
am trapped
.  It was almost funny.

The light touched her, rose toward her face.  She had to
close her eyes.