Shadow of Death, page 17
“And we believe he helped with the deaths that occurred at the pits—he didn’t orchestrate them. So who did?” Hunter asked. He frowned and looked at Amy. She knew what he was going to say when he spoke again, “Is there anything even slightly flaky about Barrington Advertising?”
“Pardon?” Andy said.
“Malcolm Barrington showed up at the hospital. He said he was there to see Carey. But then he stopped in on Magda Kenward as well,” Hunter said.
“Offering her a job,” Amy murmured.
“Well, that was a nice thing, wasn’t it?”
“If he was just being a good and decent nice guy, yes,” Hunter said.
Andy was studying him. “Ah, but you think Barrington might have thought of Magda as a sinner for being a stripper?”
“Well, not just that—her family has money. She just didn’t want to use it; she wanted to make it all on her own. And I did a little reading,” Amy said, “on the web, various sites, and through social media. According to everything I can find out there, the club where Magda Kenward works is possibly one of the most transparent—sorry, no pun intended—and legitimate out there, meaning no sex sales on the side. But Barrington possibly believes any form of stripping is sinful.”
“I don’t know,” Andy said. “Okay, Barrington heard what had happened, and he maybe just hoped he could help the woman.”
“And maybe he could care less, and he just wants to keep an eye on her in case something else about her kidnapping comes up in her memory,” Hunter said. “Or she’s vulnerable if he decides she does need to disappear again and have all those sins of hers taken on by others. Most likely, he may just want her dead to protect his own ass. Yes, I’m speculating. But Carey was a victim, and Don Blake has gone missing. And they both worked for Barrington.”
Andy shook his head. “Okay, I understand. We become jaded quickly in this business, and I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m just saying we need to keep our minds—and our options—open. We’re still dealing with the attorneys on charging the group we picked up on the cliffs. Some are suddenly remorseful, horrified, and swearing they didn’t know they’d come to witness a murder and to drink blood. Others are saying we’re the crazy ones, Armageddon is coming, and we’re condemning souls to Hell to burn for eternity. That group...none worked for Barrington Advertising. In fact, not a person we picked up seemed to have anything in common with the others—except for Mateus, who brought them together, who taught them about the depths of love they could experience while paving the way for angels of God to return and fight at their sides.”
“Hayden is in Florida,” Hunter said with certainty.
As he spoke, Andy’s assistant came down the hallway, anxious to speak with them. “Report from tech, sir,” the young agent said. “Another text came through.”
“And it said?” Andy asked.
“Help. Just the one word.”
Hunter shook his head. “Okay, someone else has the phone, and I’m assuming they want us to think Hayden is in Florida. Whether she’s there or not, I don’t know. But there is no way she texted hours ago and then just texted again now. Whoever is sending the texts is not Hayden.”
“You agree?” Andy asked Amy.
“I do. First, when she was taken, they would have searched her for her cell phone right away. I believe Hunter is right. I don’t think Hayden is sending the messages. I agree. They’d never let her keep her phone.”
“So, Hayden is still somewhere in Colorado?” Andy asked.
“I think something is going to happen here,” Hunter said. “The texts are a lure. It may be important to head there soon, but today...something is going to happen here. I’m afraid something might be planned against one of the survivors.”
Amy’s phone was ringing. She glanced down at it. Carey was calling her again.
“Carey, we’re working—”
“No, no, Amy, I’m scared!” Carey said.
“Carey, there’s an agent watching the house—”
“I can see the car. I can’t see the agent! There’s no one in the car, Amy. I’m scared!”
“All right, stay on the phone. You have the doors locked and—”
“Yes, yes, and the windows are locked, but... Amy, I’m scared.”
“All right, we’ll get out there right away. And not to worry, they’ll reach your agent from headquarters and we’ll find out what is going on. Please don’t panic, Carey. It would truly be foolish for anyone to come after you, but we won’t take any chances. Stay inside, keep everything locked and keep talking to me.”
She was looking at Andy as she spoke. He nodded and then he started moving down the hall. “Come with me now. I’m bringing up Gleason’s body cam—he was watching Carey’s house. Gleason is a good man, he’d never just leave.”
They followed him quickly. He walked over to the video computer and punched keys, but instead of the dashboard all they saw was static.
Gleason wasn’t in his vehicle. Andy ran the tape back to see the preceding minutes.
Back to where Gleason sat in his unmarked car. They saw the officer turn his body to reveal that he was approached by a figure in a jacket, scarf, and hat. They couldn’t see anything of the man’s face; he knew there was on a camera.
He kept his head down.
They could see Gleason was appropriately cautious, but when told anxiously there was something strange on the back of his car, he groaned and exited the vehicle. They could see him follow the stranger and walk around the car, and then...
The figure had stepped out of the body cam’s line of vision. Moments later, the feed cut to static.
Andy’s assistant had followed him in. Andy turned to him, saying, “Get the forces on it. I want any piece of security footage anyone has from that neighborhood. Closest unit to Carey’s place immediately—”
“Right,” Hunter interrupted. “But have them observe and surround the place.”
“And let us get there,” Amy said.
“They can burst in and—”
“If this is a cult lackey, he’ll let himself be killed, taking Carey with him. If the police or agents burst in, she’s dead. We can be there in ten minutes—give us a chance,” Hunter said.
“Go,” Andy said. “But keep me informed, every step of the way.”
Hunter nodded at Amy and they started out quickly.
“Do you think someone will be that willing to die?” she asked.
“Whoever was sent there? Yes.”
“How do people ever get so crazy?” she whispered.
He smiled. “Normal people fall prey to all kinds of propaganda all the time. Needy people are seeking something to believe in. Mind control is one of the most frightening aspects of this job that we ever face. But you know that by now.”
“So, we have to figure out how to use it in reverse,” Amy murmured.
He glanced at her, grimaced, and nodded. “Talking. Finding the right points. And it’s something I’m betting you’re better at. We’re all a bit jaded, but you find empathy for everyone.”
“Not everyone,” she assured him. “If I knew who was doing this...um. No, I don’t think empathy would kick in!”
They were in the car when both their phones vibrated; it was a call from an Officer Zwick of the local police. He had checked out Gleason’s car. It was empty and there was no sign of anyone near it. A door-to-door search was ongoing. He and his partner and one more team were assigned to the house, and they were holding position, and would not force entry to the house that had been under bureau surveillance.
“We’re on our way,” Amy said. Hunter was driving but she could glance at the gages on his GPS. “ETA eight minutes,” she said.
“We aren’t hearing anything from the house,” Zwick said, “but as ordered, holding pat.”
“Thank you,” Hunter said. He ended the call and glanced at Amy. “There has to be something on video somewhere. That neighborhood is a family-oriented, middle-income area—but I’m willing to bet there are home cameras.”
“The problem is those cameras usually pick up the front of a house and don’t extend to the street,” Amy said.
“Officer Zwick said Special Agent Gleason had disappeared completely. And now we think whoever made him disappear is after Carey and possibly in her house already. So, what did he do with Gleason? Could a camera have caught that?”
They both heard a buzzing again; their phones were vibrating. They glanced at each other.
The caller was Andy Mason.
“We got something from the third house down,” Andy told them. “The fellow who owns it is a cameraman for a local news station. The police hadn’t even reached him—he called it in. He has his front and back doors covered and both side lawns. The screens are in his laundry room. Doesn’t make a lot of sense to me—but he was helping his wife with the laundry. He’d seen there was a car watching over Carey’s place the last few days. But he caught the figure in the scarf, hat, and jacket getting Gleason out of the car. He took him by surprise and hit him with a stun gun just as a white van came down the street. Gleason is no lightweight but after the stun gun, he was deadweight—and he was slid right into the van. The van took off. The plates were so muddied they couldn’t be read. We’ve got an APB out on the vehicle with a description of the make and model.”
“And the man who tased him?” Hunter asked.
“Disappeared off his camera’s range—going in the direction of Carey’s place. So far, the police have no sign of him. Or any vehicle in which he might have arrived,” Andy said.
“Maybe the van dropped him off and circled around, which left him time to take Gleason,” Amy said.
“Sounds logical,” Andy said.
“ETA, four minutes,” Hunter said.
“All right. I’ll leave you to manage. Do you have a plan?”
Amy glanced at Hunter. “I think we do,” she said.
“And?”
“I’m going to knock on the door, call out, pretend I’m a friend who is going to get to her one way or another,” Amy said.
“And Hunter—”
“I will be right behind her,” Hunter said, glancing at Amy. “Backup.”
“All right. Keep me posted. I don’t need two dead agents. Play it—”
“Safe,” Amy said. “You bet. But we are going to try to keep Carey alive.”
“Safely,” Andy said.
“Safely,” Amy assured him.
“Who am I kidding?” they could hear Andy murmuring as he ended the call.
His words allowed Hunter and Amy to share a quick smile. “Might have mentioned that plan to me,” Hunter said.
“You said we need to talk—get some reverse messages going. Call on something in him or her—we don’t really know which yet—that causes them to pause and question their assignment. Right?”
“Right. But I didn’t really suggest you just ring the doorbell.”
She grinned at him. “We’re supposed to start off nonthreatening, logic suggests. I’m a hell of a lot less threatening than you!”
“Only in a physical sense,” Hunter assured her. “Seriously, you can be downright terrifying.”
She looked forward. They had reached their destination. Hunter didn’t bother to find a distant location; he parked on the street in front of the house. As they got out of the car, Amy saw an officer at the side of the house step out from cover to identify himself and his position and motion to them that his partner was just across the way.
His service weapon was pointed down, but in both hands, and ready. Amy assumed the man was Zwick and it seemed he knew his business.
But even for a patrolman, the world could be a minefield. Officers learned quickly.
“Good man,” Hunter noted. “In position, and I’m willing to bet he got there with his fellows without being seen. All right. We know our closest backup. But let’s hope we don’t need it.”
“Agreed. Okay, you need to be the backed-up backup now,” Amy told him.
He nodded, but she wasn’t sure he looked happy. “I am really well trained. And besides, I’ve had your guidance.”
“If only my guidance could keep people alive,” Hunter said. “You’re good. I know it. Go for it.”
“Ah, but guidance does keep people alive,” Amy murmured, pushing him back lightly. Then she rang the doorbell. There was no answer. She rang it again, and again, and again. Then she banged on the door.
“Carey! Carey, open this door! I know you’re there! Oh, my God, are you okay? I’m going to call the police! I’m going to break the door down! I’ve got to see you!” she cried.
As she expected, the door opened. Carey was not standing there.
No one was.
She didn’t wait, she pressed it inward. But she didn’t step in.
“Carey! I’m going to call the police!”
An arm slipped out from the side of the doorframe, reached for her, grabbed her by the elbow, and pulled her inside.
It was the man captured on Gleason’s camera. He was wearing a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead, a jacket, and a scarf that was still pulled high around his neck. He had light brown hair and eyes, and was old enough to maybe have graduated high school.
He held her with his right hand; his left hand was gripped around a stun gun.
“Hey!” Amy protested. “I’m not here to hurt Carey, I swear. I just want to see her. You must be George. She told me she was dating a new guy.”
“George?” he said, and then he shook his head. “Right. I’m George. Carey isn’t here right now. She ran to the store. But you need to come in. You can wait.”
He held her elbow. And the stun gun was close. Too close.
She smiled as she drew her own weapon, breaking from him and aiming her Glock at him. “No, George, you’re going to show me where Carey is. Right now. And she’d best be okay.”
“No!” he screamed the word like a child. Then a look of panic came over him. “Shoot me, shoot me, shoot me, do it!” he shrieked.
By then, Hunter had stepped in behind her and then past her, grabbed the man by the arm and wrenched the stun gun from him. The man started to fight, but he was no match for Hunter. He was whimpering as Hunter cuffed him. Then he started shrieking again.
“Kill me, kill me, kill me! I have failed in my mission. Kill me!”
Amy hoped that meant Carey was still alive.
“Where’s Carey?” she asked him.
She glanced at Hunter who gave her a nod and stepped closer to the man. There were tears in his eyes.
“I failed. I...failed. I... “
“I’ll get the cops in. We’ll find her,” Hunter said as he stepped outside to wave to the officers and then walked back into the house to look toward the back and the kitchen.
The man fell to his knees, sobbing. “Kill me, kill me!”
Four police officers filed into the house. Amy waved them forward and said, “Please, find Carey.”
“On it,” one said, and they walked on by.
Carey looked at the young man, broken, silent now, but with tears streaming down his face.
“I’m not going to kill you,” Amy said, kneeling to look into his eyes.
He looked at her, his expression both sad and slightly wild as he rushed to explain, “I was supposed to save her soul! I was supposed to...and now I’ll have to die, but now I’ve sinned. I’ve failed to carry out my command, and...”
He broke off and then he looked at Amy with desperation in his eyes. “Don’t you understand? If you take my life, it will be so much better.”
“No. You’ve been fooled. You’ve been lied to,” Amy told him as she shook her head and touched his face gently. “Murder is wrong. Taking the lives of others is wrong.”
“But their sins could be cleansed.”
“No. Believe me, please. The true commandment is ‘thou shalt not kill.’ And none of us is to judge others. None of us is without sin. I don’t want to kill you, and there is no reason for you to die. How old are you? Twenty? Twenty-one?”
He frowned. “Twenty,” he told her.
“You have your whole life ahead of you. A beautiful life. Please believe me, you’ve been listening to the wrong people. And Carey is alive, right? Because you couldn’t kill her. When it came down to it and you looked at another life—at a young woman, terrified and crying and desperate—you couldn’t do it. Because in your heart, you know. Murder is wrong, and it is not something that God—in any religion—asks us to do. Cold-blooded murder is wrong. ‘Thou shalt not kill,’” she repeated.
He started sobbing again.
He didn’t need to answer her about Carey. Hunter walked back into the room. “Cops are calling an ambulance—I reached Andy already. Carey needs a hospital—he hit her with the stun gun—but she’s going to be okay.” He hunkered down by Carey and the young man. “You didn’t kill her because you’re a good man at heart. You were supposed to and you did zap her, but you couldn’t slice her throat or her heart. And you sure as hell couldn’t drink any blood.”
“No, he couldn’t,” Amy agreed. “Because somewhere down deep inside, he knew he wouldn’t be cleansing her of her sins. He knew one of the main commandments was not to kill. We need to help him.”
The young man shook his head, looking from one of them to the other. “No, no, you don’t understand. I am marked. They will know I have the Devil’s mark. They will hunt and hunt and...they will do so much...worse.”
“Worse—like cut out your heart to drink your blood? And, hmm, you were one of them who failed, and they would make it the most heinous torture in the world to save you, of course,” Hunter said.
The man stared at him, confused.
“But that’s not going to happen,” Hunter said flatly. “Because we’re not going to let them get anywhere near you.”
“You can’t stop them—” the man began.
