Murder on Prescott Mountain, page 17
But Brian was a cop.
He knew what to expect in a situation like this, the standard operating procedures the police would follow. Grayson couldn’t help wondering if he’d had a plan B all along, an escape route in case anyone ever discovered him up there. And what worried Grayson the most was that, if Brian was angry enough, he might decide to seek revenge against anyone he felt was responsible for him becoming a hunted man.
Like Willow.
He jogged up the stairs toward the landing outside her apartment. Whether she liked it or not, when he left today, he was taking her with him. To the airport. They were going to hole up somewhere secluded and safe until Brian Nelson was no longer a threat.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he slowed, every muscle in his body going on high alert. There weren’t any policemen outside Willow’s door and their car parked out front was empty. He couldn’t imagine her letting them wait inside. She’d be too keyed up, too annoyed to allow them to hover over her.
He was about to try her door, when he looked down. Two bright red drops of blood stained the wood on the landing. Another drop dotted the wood a little farther away, leading toward her neighbor’s apartment.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Willow desperately tried to scream, but the cloth Brian had stuffed in her mouth was held in place by another cloth tied behind her head. All that came out was a muffled sound. She had to let her eyes do the talking, pouring all her hatred and loathing into her glare. Brian chuckled as he checked the zip ties fastening her arms and legs to her bed frame.
“Uh-oh,” he said. “This one’s a little loose. Wouldn’t want you slipping your arm out and punching me right in the middle of our fun.” He winked, making bile rise in her throat.
He yanked the zip tie. It bit into her skin, cutting into her. She cursed viciously against the gag.
“Go ahead,” he crooned. “I like my girls to fight.”
As long as they’re tied down and can’t fight back.
She wanted so badly to scream and curse at him, to tell him he was nothing more than a coward. She wanted to tell him that he could hurt her, and no doubt kill her, but he’d never conquer her spirit. As long as there was breath in her lungs, blood in her veins, she’d fight with every ounce of strength she had.
How had he managed to escape from Prescott Mountain? From Grayson and the police? There must have been another way out of the woods, a road no one knew about. A way to slip past anyone if they ever found his sick little hideout. She just prayed that he hadn’t hurt anyone else during his escape.
Especially Grayson.
He climbed on top of the bed, straddling her. She bucked, hard, trying to throw him off. He retaliated by sitting on her stomach, pinning her in place. His weight squeezed her diaphragm, pressing against lungs already starved for oxygen with the gag blocking most of her airway. She sank back against the bed, conserving precious energy, letting her arms and legs go limp. Drawing in precious air, struggling to draw a breath past the gag with his weight constricting her lungs, suddenly became her only focus.
“There you go. Works every time.” He held up a jagged knife, turning it so the metal winked in the light shining down from above her bed. Then, as if he couldn’t resist the temptation, he leaned down, down, down, burying his face in her hair. “You smell so good,” he whispered against her ear.
She shivered in revulsion.
He laughed and pulled back, once again pressing against her diaphragm.
“In, out. In, out. In, out,” he mocked. “Makes you appreciate life, doesn’t it? The struggle to breathe?”
Tears ran down her cheeks, and she hated him for it.
He captured one of them on his finger, staring at it as if fascinated. “It’s such a shame that I don’t have my playhouse anymore.” He rolled his fingers where the tear had been, back and forth, back and forth. “I take all the special ones there, the ones worthy of more than a quick screw in an alley. I keep them for a long, long time. So we can...enjoy each other. Over and over again.” He leaned down again, his breath hot against her neck, like a rabid dog. “You’re one of the special ones, sweet Willow. I had great plans for you. It’s a pity we have to speed this up, that I can’t keep you, treasure you the way I’d like to.”
Nausea roiled inside her. She turned her head to the side, worried she’d throw up and choke on her own vomit.
“I can’t stay long. Too many people after me. Thanks to you and your stupid lover.” He yanked her hair, making her arch up to relieve the awful pressure. “What should we do in the little time that we have?” he asked as casually as someone asking what she wanted to watch on TV.
Breathe. Breathe. Don’t throw up. Breathe.
“Oh, I know. How about I show you what happened to Russo’s little foot soldiers? Stupid beat cops who thought they could outsmart me. They were so busy watching the stairs they didn’t think to check the other apartment behind them.” He arched his brows. “What? You didn’t think of that either?” He held up his phone, then started tapping through some menus on the screen. “I must say, your next door neighbor is a real slob. Well, he was a real slob.” He turned the phone around, holding the gruesome bloody picture in front of her face.
She screamed against the gag, bucking and jerking, not even caring anymore if it meant wasting precious air. Her lungs seized in her chest. Her eyes widened. She desperately fought for air. Spots swam in her vision, everything going dark.
“Now, now. Can’t have you dying on me just yet. We have a lot more to do before that happens.” He raised himself up on his knees, still straddling her, but no longer pressing on her belly or chest.
Air rushed in, her lungs finally filling. She nearly wept with relief as she greedily sucked in air through her nose and around the gag.
When her vision cleared, she realized he was stroking her hair, his fingers like claws as he combed them through the long strands, then lifted her hair to his mouth and sucked.
She closed her eyes, determined not to watch whatever else this sick man wanted to do. She was so tired of fighting. She just wanted to let go.
No, what she wanted was Grayson. She wanted to see him one last time, to make sure he could go on without her, that he’d find someone to love. She couldn’t bear the thought of him going back to the way he’d been, so closed-off, starved for something as simple as a hug.
“Shall I tell you what I did to your lover?”
Her eyes flew open. No! Grayson had to be okay. No, please. No.
Brian rested the flat of the blade on her breast, the cold steel leaving a trail of goose bumps across her skin. He turned the blade, the jagged edge cutting into her skin like fire.
She cried out against the gag.
His eyes danced with laughter as he drew the blade down. Hot liquid trickled down her ribs and sides. “This is the same blade I used on him. I carved Grayson up into little pieces. Starting with his skin. Did you hear that, Willow? I skinned him alive.”
“Liar.”
They both jerked their heads toward the doorway. Grayson swooped down on Brian like an avenging angel, very much alive. He grabbed the wrist holding the knife and jerked it up and back. The knife fell to the mattress. Brian screamed with outrage as Grayson lifted him off her and slammed him to the floor.
Willow bucked and strained against the zip ties, desperately trying to see what was happening on the floor beside the bed. Arms and legs flailed as the sound of fists slamming into flesh filled the room. A solid thunk was followed by another of Brian’s screams, this one so pitiful and raw with pain it almost made Willow feel sorry for him. Almost.
A thump sounded. Grayson swore and Brian was suddenly on his feet, cartwheeling around the corner into the little hallway. Grayson was a blur as he jumped up and sprinted after him.
A bloodcurdling scream filled the apartment, followed by a boom and a crashing noise.
“Police, don’t move!”
More crashing and thuds echoed from the other room. Willow curled her fingers against the sheets, her body heated with embarrassment at the idea of anyone seeing her there, naked, vulnerable. But more than that, she was terrified that they hadn’t gotten there in time. Where was Grayson? Was he okay? She watched the doorway, cold fear making sweat break out all over her body.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway. The familiar figure that suddenly appeared had tears of relief flooding down her cheeks. He was alive. Brian hadn’t killed him. Grayson was alive.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” His voice was infinitely gentle and soothing. “Everything’s okay.” He bent over the footrail, slicing through the zip ties on one of her ankles.
She sobbed against the gag.
His tortured gaze shot to hers as he freed her other leg. “It’s okay, Willow. It’s okay. He can’t hurt you now.” He quickly freed her from the rest of her restraints, then pulled the cloth from around her head.
She spit out the gag, her chest heaving as she drew her first deep breath in...forever.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, as he wrapped a blanket around her. Then he scooped her up and carried her out of the bedroom.
Her face heated again when she realized the SWAT team and dozens of her former Gatlinburg PD colleagues were squeezed into her apartment, many of them staring at her as they passed, no doubt wondering what awful things she’d endured.
“Look away, damn it. Give her some privacy.” Grayson flipped the edge of the blanket over her head, but not before she saw what was left of Brian Nelson on the floor.
Grayson was right earlier today when he’d told her the only weapon he needed was his hands.
She buried her face against the side of his neck as he carried her outside.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Willow glanced up from her desk as the library door opened. Ryland and the team began filing in, which meant the celebratory press conference announcing the partnership between law enforcement and Unfinished Business had finally wrapped up.
It had been a month since Brian’s rampage of violence had ended on the floor of her apartment. And it had taken every bit of that month for Gatlinburg PD to tie up the loose ends in the investigation. Which had basically put all of the plans for Unfinished Business on hold. But now the company was officially, and publicly, moving forward, finally getting its day in the sun.
Ryland had pressured her to be with them at the press conference. But Grayson had come to her rescue, telling Ryland to respect her decision. Grayson understood, even if the others didn’t. Although she was thrilled for all of them, she couldn’t stomach the part of the press conference where Chief Russo was going to tell the press the final conclusions of the investigation, including that Sergeant Jeffries had died with honor, in the line of duty.
Russo had done it, partly, to protect the sergeant’s family from the vitriol the public would send their way if they knew the truth. But mainly he’d wanted to ensure that Jeffries’s widow received survivor’s benefits. Noble reasons, sure. But it still rankled for him to be praised like a hero.
Willow supposed there was some validity to Russo’s claim that Sergeant Jeffries had died in the line of duty. He’d acted like a cop, confronting the bad guy and trying to save others. And he’d tragically lost his life in the process. But, all told in the final count, after the police dug up half the mountain, fourteen women had lost their lives. And they still didn’t know, might never know, what had happened to little Katrina. Her body wasn’t found with the others.
One good thing was that fourteen families now had closure, of some type. At least they could bury the bodies of their loved ones, visit a grave someday. Grayson didn’t even have that comfort for his little girl.
Nicole Paletta had been rescued, which was another good thing to be grateful about. And there was no denying it was partly due to Jeffries showing up, confronting Brian, distracting him while Grayson helped her escape. But Willow didn’t give her former boss much credit for that. He didn’t purposely try to distract Brian. His interference, trying to save Brian, almost got Grayson killed.
If Jeffries hadn’t lied all those years ago, providing Brian with a false alibi during Maura’s murder, so many lives would have been saved. And all those women he’d brutally attacked since then wouldn’t have had their lives forever changed, or ended, in such a horrible way. Willow’s young neighbor would still be alive too, and the police officers assigned to guard her. The damage her former boss’s lies had done could never be undone.
But Willow was making an effort to undo the damage, at least in her own life. Although Grayson had encouraged her to stay at his mansion, she’d been determined to go home, to try to get back to her normal routine and banish the images of Brian from her apartment. She didn’t want to give him any more control over her life. She didn’t want him to win. But too many sleepless nights, jumping at shadows, afraid to even close her eyes, had made her realize that staying in the apartment wasn’t the way to win. Living, enjoying life again, was how she would defeat the evil that was Brian.
A few days ago, she’d signed papers to turn in her apartment at the end of the month. And she’d scheduled a moving company to pack everything up and store it, at least until she figured out her next steps. The first step would be packing a bag, today, and heading to a hotel. Then, after that, who knew? Maybe she’d see if that offer of moving in with Grayson was still open.
One of the investigators, Trent, stopped beside her desk, grinning. “Is it true? Did Grayson really tell you, Get off my mountain?”
“Grow up.” She shoved him, but smiled to let him know she was teasing as he chuckled and retreated to his side of the room.
Grayson had never once brought up that order he’d given her back at the fort. And she had no intention of bringing it up either. He’d done what he felt he needed to do to keep her safe. And she certainly didn’t expect an apology for that. Looking back, it was kind of endearing, although she certainly hadn’t thought so at the time.
Once the investigators had all returned, she realized that Grayson wasn’t with them. She caught Ryland’s attention and waved him over.
He perched on the edge of her desk with a friendly smile, as always. Which, of course, made her feel guilty when she thought of all the horrible things she’d said to him as he was dragging her off the mountain. It would be a while before she atoned enough for that and felt comfortable around him again.
“What’s up, Willow?” he asked. “You need something?”
“Grayson didn’t come back with you from the press conference?”
“He stayed behind to sign the contracts.”
“Oh, right. I forgot about that.”
“He’ll be here soon. He said it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes.” He stood to return to his desk but she motioned for him to wait.
She scooped the papers she’d been reviewing into a folder. “I have a favor to ask you. And it’s a big one.”
He glanced at the folder, curiosity lighting his eyes. “You have a new case you want me to work?”
“More like a pet project. It’s really important. But it’s...sensitive. I’d rather that Grayson doesn’t know about it.”
His expression hardened, and his usual smile was nowhere to be seen. “He’s my boss. I respect him far too much to hide something from him.”
“Believe me. No one holds him in higher esteem than me. I’m not saying I’ll never tell him about this...project. Just that we can’t tell him right now.”
“Willow, I don’t—”
“Just hear me out. Let me explain. Then you can decide for yourself whether you agree with my reasoning, and whether you’ll help me.”
“Fair enough. What have you got?”
She pushed back her chair and stood. “Let’s discuss it in the conference room.”
Ten minutes later, Ryland was typing furiously at his computer, busily and eagerly working on her pet project. Willow smiled her thanks again, but he didn’t seem to notice. A true investigator, he was already trying to figure things out and make the puzzle pieces fit.
Willow was grateful that Grayson hadn’t come home while she and Ryland were still in the conference room. That would have led to some awkward questions. But as she passed one of the front windows, she saw his Audi parked under the portico. There was no sign of Grayson though. Had he come inside without her realizing it?
She was about to go on the hunt for him when a flash of movement on the far side of the driveway caught her attention. It was Grayson, heading into the woods, disappearing into the tree line.
This wasn’t the first time she’d seen him do that. She figured he wanted to stretch his legs, take a stroll in the shade, which was the best place to be if one was outside, as the weather became increasingly warmer. And it didn’t surprise her that he was wearing a suit for his walk. She’d still never seen him in a pair of jeans. She smiled. Maybe she could iron out some of the starch in him and teach him to relax someday. If she was lucky enough to have someday with him.
Maybe this was a good time to talk about the future. Her heart swelled with hope as she hurried outside and jogged to catch up. She was ready to take the plunge, to bare her soul, to finally tell him how she felt and pray that he felt the same way.
He’d been achingly patient with her since... Brian. She wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened, aside from what she’d had to tell Chief Russo for his investigation. And she hadn’t been ready to talk about her and Grayson. She’d felt too fragile, too confused.
But she was stronger now. Not healed, exactly. Maybe she never would be. Trying to sleep through the night without reaching for her gun in a cold sweat was still a problem. But the good memories were coming back, slowly pushing out the bad ones. The memories of Grayson, how gentle and sweet he’d been. How passionately they’d kissed in Russo’s office when she was trying to bring him back from his own nightmares of the past.
