Suddenly cold, Jenna rubbed her arms. “There’s nothing we can do to stop him, is there? Let’s just hope we figure out who he is soon and pray he doesn’t hit another innocent family tonight.”
Thirty-Seven
The idea of driving around with a body in his trunk gave him a buzz he couldn’t explain. A tingle at the base of his spine, the wiggle of butterflies in his stomach, and the way his heart pounded was different from the euphoric rush of pleasure he’d always gotten from watching fires. It had happened the moment he’d given Deputy Rowley’s wife a ride into town. The moment she’d slid inside the old sedan, his heart had raced with excitement. He imagined the thrill of driving far and wide to kidnap women in the same beat up old sedan. He’d drive them somewhere secluded, watch their eyes widen with fear as they realized he wasn’t the helpful, kind man they’d believed. When he’d finished with them and before they took their last breath, he’d show them the pile of bodies in the trunk. He chuckled and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He wanted to start now and gazed at the scattering of women hurrying home along the main street. Such a delicious selection and it would take nothing to encourage one to come close to his vehicle. He sighed. “Not yet but soon.”
Collecting women’s bodies would be his new hobby. The rush he experienced dominating and killing women was exhilarating. He wasn’t like the other men who committed such crimes, in fact, what he’d done in his life, couldn’t be called a crime because he hadn’t killed anyone who hadn’t deserved it. Once his revenge was satisfied why shouldn’t he indulge himself in a little fantasy? He’d suffered more than his fair share of injustices in his life. It was way past time for him to break out and enjoy himself.
It was dark by the time he arrived in Blackwater and left the old sedan in a parking lot alongside the general store. He was a creature of the night. Nothing could look better than leaping flames against a dark moonless sky. Fire came to life in the darkness, the still of night enhancing the crackle of burning wood. It reminded him of happier times around a campfire before the strangers came and snatched him away from his home never to return. Now the instant he witnessed a fire, the smell of blackening timbers and the acrid bite from melting plastics lured him. He wished he could stand inside a fire and watch the destruction around him. Fire was after all, a living, breathing entity, controlled sometimes but rarely beaten until it had consumed its fill.
He took his time scanning the parking lot before opening the door. No CCTV cameras facing toward him and enough vehicles for it to blend in unnoticed. He climbed out, locked the door, leaving his drone covered by a blanket, and took his backpack. His plans for Sheriff Buzz Stuart had be
en sheer genius, with his men all out hunting down his granddaughter and a command center set up in Pamela’s house waiting for a ransom call. Once the old sheriff returned home, he and his wife would be all alone and he had the bait to hook the old guy into allowing him inside. He hustled along the sidewalk keeping to the shadows, crossed the main road, and headed down the treelined road leading to the sheriff’s home. He grinned into the darkness. The sheriff’s cruiser was parked right outside.
Confident, he walked right up to the front door. His fingers closed around the Glock in his pocket as he knocked on the door. The familiar buzzing came in his ears, telling him it was time to get even. Time to kill.
Thirty-Eight
Bone weary and barely able to stand from worry, Sheriff Buzz Stuart dragged himself to the front door. He’d been out searching since his daughter had called to say Pamela hadn’t gotten home from school. He’d searched all day and been forced to return home to rest by the mayor. There had to be some news about Pamela soon, the search parties had been out for over twenty-four hours straight. He’d insisted the search and rescue teams set out at once, knowing instinctively something was very wrong. His granddaughter was reliable and sensible, she wouldn’t take a ride with anyone or wander off without telling someone but as each hour ticked by, the chances of finding her alive diminished. The search party would be scaled down tonight and a fresh team of volunteers would hit the ground at daybreak. His heart seemed to miss a beat as he reached for the doorknob. He couldn’t take bad news and it would as sure as hell kill his wife. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stared at the man on his stoop. In the shadows he couldn’t make out his face. “Yeah, what can I do for you?”
“I’ve been with the search party. The deputy there said I should ask you if this belongs to Pamela?” The man held out a bracelet. The base metal chain had a unicorn hanging from it. “I found it alongside the road, near the wooded area at the top of Main.”
Stuart recalled seeing Pamela with something on her wrist but couldn’t see the item clearly in the dim light. “Come inside, son. My wife is in the kitchen, she’ll be able to recognize it.”
He led the way inside with the man following close behind. He noticed the man’s leather gloves and turned to him. “It’s a warm night, why the gloves?”
“Oh, the deputy said to wear gloves if we found anything.” The man’s lips flattened. “These are all I had with me.”
Stuart nodded and waved him into the kitchen where his wife was nursing a cup of coffee. She hadn’t stopped crying and her face was red and bloated. “Cathy, this man is one of the people searching for Pamela. He found something. Take a look, does it belong to her?”
“Yes, that’s Pamela’s, she loved unicorns.” Cathy let out a wail like a slaughtered pig and dropped her head onto the table. “She’s dead, I know it.”
Stuart went to comfort his wife when the shock of a blow to the side of his head, sent him reeling. He stumbled landing heavily in the chair beside his wife. “What in darnation are you doing?”
“Buzz, who is this man?” Cathy stared at him eyes wide with shock.
Blood seeped into his eyes and dropped over the table. Dazed and bleary-eyed, he went to stand but the stranger grabbed his arms, pulled them around the back of the chair, and tied them tight with a zip-tie. “Hey.” He tried to stand but the chair moved with him.
“Stay still, old man.” The man chuckled close to his ear. “Or I’ll mess up your wife real bad.”
Tight bands closed around his ankles shackling him to the chair. He wiped his eye on his shoulder trying to get a better look at the intruder, hoping he could recognize him. “Okay, take whatever you want but don’t hurt my wife.”
“What’s going on, Buzz?” Cathy stared at him uncomprehending.
“One word, lady, and he dies.” The man grabbed her by the throat. “Understand?”
Terrified for her safety, Stuart, blinked at her through the blood. “Do what he says, Cathy.”
“I figure she’s a little old for me, so she gets a pass.” The man quickly secured Cathy to the chair and then grabbed her hair and turned her face up to his. “Although, Pamela was special. So young and fresh. She enjoyed her time with me. I’ll miss her.” He calmly wrapped gaffer tape around Cathy’s mouth. “Oh, now I see the resemblance. They have the same eyes.”
Anger broke through Stuart’s fuzzy brain and he glared at him. “If you’ve touched one hair on her head, I’ll—”
“Do what old man?” The man leaned against the kitchen counter, grinning at them. “Bring me to justice? Fight me?” He strolled over and pulled the phone out the wall. The cellphone on the kitchen table, he popped into the microwave and chuckled as it crackled sending sparks flying.
Stuart looked at his wife, who was panting and shaking her head. “I have cash, over there in the cookie jar. Take it and leave. I won’t say a thing. Just go and leave us alone.”
“Cash, huh?” The intruder sauntered over to the cookie jar, removed the lid, and pocketed the roll of bills. “Thanks, but now I have to go.”
Relieved, Stuart leaned back in his chair. It would be over soon. “Before you go, at least tell me where you have my granddaughter.”