Darkness Calls (20 page)

Diana closed her eyes against the pain. “Because I can't give him the happily ever after that he deserves.”

T
he security guard told Melissa that Ryder had left close to three, just before Diana and her colleagues had come by to get the surveillance tapes. No one had heard from him since. Diana checked in with David and Peter, neither of whom had more information. They all agreed that she should check out what had happened the night before. She promised to keep them posted if anything came up. In the meantime, Peter and David were headed to the FBI office to once again review the tapes.

Diana parked her car in front of The Lair and turned to look at Melissa and Sebastian in the back seat. “How does he normally go to and from the club?”

“He has a van. Parks it down the block in the loading ramp for another building he owns,” Melissa explained.

“Let's go check it out, then.”

She followed Melissa to the back of a building about halfway up the block from The Lair. Ryder's van was still parked there, and Melissa turned and gave Diana a worried look. “He never got here.”

Diana advanced slowly and immediately noticed the smudge along the driver's window and another on the side-view mirror. A closer inspection of the window made her flinch. There were faint droplets of blood in a splatter pattern.

Turning her attention to the mirror, she noted a thumbprint and what looked like the mark of a palm along its black backing. Ryder must have held himself up, maybe after the first blow, she thought, knowing it would take more than one shot to take him down.

If he'd fallen backward…She inspected the front bumper on the driver's side and found more smudges that confirmed his fall. There was a small patch of blood on the sidewalk. Coldness settled within her as she looked around, spotted another telltale mark a few feet away, and then followed that trail up the steps of the loading dock. On the edge of each step was a stain that might not have caught someone else's attention.

Diana was well aware of what it meant. Ryder had been dragged up the stairs. The blood from his injuries had marked the edges of the steps. She shivered as the images from her dream drifted into her mind. A sick feeling settled in her stomach.

At the top of the platform there were an assortment of garbage cans and a large bin from a commercial laundry company. The laundry bin was empty, but the garbage cans were still full. In the second that followed that observation, the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. She turned and called out to Melissa, “Do you know what businesses use this loading dock?”

Melissa started to walk toward her, but Diana waved her back. “I don't want you contaminating the crime scene.”

The other woman stopped dead in her tracks and her pale skin blanched. Sebastian quickly offered his support as she swayed slightly. “He'll be fine.” He glared at his sister for her bluntness.

Diana didn't wait for Melissa to recover. She needed an immediate answer if she was going to locate Ryder before…She wouldn't think about her dream. She pulled on one of the restaurant doors and found it locked. She quickly went to the next one, yanked and it popped open. She withdrew her badge from her jacket pocket, stuck her head in and called out a warning before stepping inside. “FBI. Anyone here?”

When there was no answer, she entered. It was a storage room lined with shelves that held row upon row of institutional-size cans of food. There was a shuffle from the front of the building and Diana proceeded up the small gap between the shelves until she reached the kitchen. She didn't need to enter to know its specialty was Latino food of some kind. The smells of onions, garlic and citrus were enough proof. “Anyone here?”

A young Latino man popped his head out of the kitchen, a worried look on his face.

“Migra?”
he questioned as he saw the badge and seemed ready to bolt.

Diana reassured him in Spanish. “I'm not from Immigration. I'm FBI. All I need is a little information. I won't do anything if you help.”

The young man nodded and wiped his hands on the apron tied around his waist.
“Qué quieres?”

Diana quickly rattled off a question or two, mostly about who cleaned the restaurant's linens and when that company picked up. The ready answers of the young man gave her a good start in tracking down where Ryder might be. She thanked the man and headed back out onto the loading ramp.

Melissa and Sebastian still stood there, waiting. “All of the victims were wrapped in fresh linens and the last one had some kind of sauce in her hair. I think the killer dumps them in that laundry bin, or another like it. Then picks them up, probably while he's making his rounds.”

“How does Ryder fit into this?” Melissa asked, and wrung her hands together in worry.

“Ryder thought there was something familiar about the suspect we pointed out in the tapes. Maybe because he had seen him here on the loading docks.”

“Do you think Ryder caught him in the act?” Sebastian asked.

Diana shrugged and whipped out her cell phone. “I need to call this in.”

When her partner answered, she gave him the information she'd collected. “Call the company and tell them I'm on my way. I'll need access to their employee records and routes. If they give you trouble, call me, get a judge to issue you a warrant and meet me with it.”

After David's confirmation, she hung up and faced her two unwanted companions. “You need to go home. I'll call when—”

“No way. If Ryder needs help, I'm the one to do it,” Melissa protested.

Diana raised her hands, signaling no, but Melissa didn't stop. “There's medicine in the van, in case of emergencies. We need to take it so that when we find Ryder—”

“Just tell me what to do and go home.”

But Sebastian immediately contradicted her. “What if you need to pick him up? There's no way you can swing that.”

“And there's no way you can take him to a hospital or another doctor without compromising his secret,” Melissa added.

Diana let out a harsh laugh. “Any more than it's been compromised? There're three of us, maybe even the killer by now, who know.”

“And as big a circle as that is, we need it not to get bigger.” Melissa headed to the van. She pulled keys out of her purse, pushed the remote control button and opened the door. “Come on. Time's a'wasting.”

 

A warrant wasn't necessary. The manager of the laundry called the owner and within minutes, Diana was looking through their schedules, pinpointing who it was that made the pickup for the restaurant. Gordon Randall. And if he kept to his schedule…

Diana looked up at the manager. “Randall should be back within the hour.”

The manager shook his head and held up his hands as if in apology. “Sorry, but Randall is long gone.”

“The schedule says—”

“He came in early this morning. Said he had something to do and could he run his route earlier. Wasn't a problem since all the drops were ready.”

She returned her attention to the papers. The employee record contained a copy of Randall's commercial driver's license complete with photo. Diana had no problem identifying Randall as the man who had danced with her the other night, despite his being known as Rudy at the club. Still, it was possible that the documents had been doctored or faked, or that he hadn't given the people at The Lair his real name.

With the manager's permission, she quickly made copies and faxed them to David so he could get someone to track down Randall. She also faxed him a copy of Randall's schedule and instructed that David get another team or two of agents to visit the sites at the end of the route and get more information on Randall.

Thanking the manager, she walked out of his office with her copies of the materials and approached Melissa and Sebastian, who waited outside by Ryder's van. As she reached them, she quickly explained what she had planned and immediately encountered objections from her brother.

“Why didn't you put more agents on checking those locations? If we need to find him soon—”

It was Melissa who came to her defense. “She did the right thing, Sebastian. We don't know what condition Ryder will be in and if someone else finds him…”

“You'd have a big problem on your hands.” Sebastian looked up at the bright blue sky and the sun that was heading higher toward its midday peak.

Diana quickly opened the van's doors with the remote. “Come on,” she said. “We don't have much time.”

“Do you think he's okay?” Melissa asked.

Diana wished she could be optimistic, but she couldn't. “This killer has a lot of rage. It's why he did what he did to the women.”

“But Ryder's a guy,” Sebastian interjected.

Diana shot a quick glance at Melissa, then said, “The killer may transfer that anger to someone else. Maybe someone he feels is responsible for what the women do.”

“Someone like Ryder,” Melissa said with concern.

“Maybe. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he just grabbed him for now. Either way, we need to get a move on.” Diana couldn't fail to notice the fearful glance Melissa and Sebastian exchanged, nor the way he laid a hand on Melissa's shoulder, offering solace.

 

It was a struggle to draw breath. Each inhalation brought more pain than he had ever imagined.

Ryder barely had the strength to pick up his head, but he struggled to do so, staring at the beams of sunlight reaching into the space through the gaps in the broken windows. The long fingers of the sun had bathed his body, setting his torso ablaze. Slowly stealing the life from him, making his skin and muscles stiff and painful. As the sun inched higher, the rays had moved downward, shifting their attack to his abdomen and then moving ever slower, taking more and more of him away with their touch.

From mid-chest down, his body was stiff, as if in death. There was no way he could free himself now.

Diana, he thought, and groaned, praying she would be safe. Trusting she had the intelligence and strength to avoid the killer and, maybe, find him. Perhaps he could see her one last time. Tell her how sorry he was for everything that had happened.

His body protested as he feebly pulled at the hook, accomplishing nothing. The bindings were too strong and he was too weak. So weak it was an effort just to hold on to consciousness. He struggled to stay awake, his head hanging down. His eyes trained on the rays of light as they finished sweeping down his body, then thankfully slipped off onto the floor, signaling the arrival of high noon.

Rudy would be back soon, Ryder knew. Back to torment him. Back to kill. Funny thing was, Ryder thought with a dry laugh that racked his body with pain, he almost welcomed Rudy's return.

T
he glare of the sun hurt her eyes, and Diana slipped on her sunglasses. She tried not to think about how Ryder must be feeling. She tightened her hands on the steering wheel. Too much time had passed and they were no closer to finding him.

This would be their third stop. It was almost one in the afternoon. The other agents, who had begun at the end of the route, had only a few more stops before they all ran into one another. If they reached that point, it would probably be too late for Ryder.

She was convinced he was somewhere in this area. It would make sense, according to the hypothetical timetable she had mapped out. The first stop was the restaurant and would normally happen at four in the morning.

Rudy, for that was what she preferred to call him until they verified whether or not Randall was an alias, would normally be done with his route by midday. That would leave him plenty of time to return to his hideout and work on his victim. It matched the medical examiner's approximate times of death for the victims—late afternoon to early evening for all of them.

She stopped the van by the back of a small, upscale hotel on the edge of the South Street Seaport. Examining the area around the hotel, she didn't even bother to get out. There wasn't anywhere vacant enough for the killer to store and play with his victims.

“What are you doing?” Melissa asked.

“Thinking.” Before either of her two companions could say anything else, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed David.

He answered almost instantly. “Anything?”

Diana sighed and ran a hand through her hair in frustration. “I was hoping you'd have something for me.” She searched the area again through the windshield of the van.

“Nothing, except that Randall is an alias. Social security number he gave was a fake. So was the address on all the papers.”

“So we're back to Rudy and nothing to go on.” She glanced at her companions out of the corner of her eye. Melissa's face showed her concern and Sebastian grabbed her hand to offer comfort.

Diana looked away, controlling her own fear as she grasped at straws. “Did Rudy have any bank accounts with the alias? Make any payments?”

“Still checking on it,” David replied.

Diana lost her temper. “Can't you get anyone to check on it faster?” David's tired sigh came across the line. “You're letting the personal get in the way, Di. You know how long this can take.”

She bit back her response, for it would only worry her companions more. Taking a deep breath, she finally said, “I know, David. But call me as soon as you have anything. Anything at all.”

She turned in the driver's seat and looked at Melissa and Sebastian. “I need a second,” she said, and stepped out of the van.

After pacing along the sidewalk, Diana looked toward the sky. A moment later, she hustled back into the van, started it up and pulled away.

“What's up?” Sebastian asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“Something familiar,” she answered, but was unable to explain. It was the edifice from her dreams—the New York Life building with its unique golden top. But had she thought of it only because it was something she saw every day or because it was meant to guide her to Ryder?

She didn't know. “I'm backtracking to the road by the docks. He would have come that way on his route before reaching this stop.” She paused at a corner as the light turned red. She looked at him and then Melissa. “Look for a warehouse or building, probably abandoned. Or one with no activity at this hour.”

It took a few more turns before they were on the roadway beneath FDR Drive. On one side of the street were assorted docks and buildings, some of them fitting the bill, but Diana suspected the killer would not have crossed the road and lost time.

She drove slowly, ignoring the horns of the annoyed drivers behind her. She examined each building. At this hour of the day most seemed vacant. In the stretch of four or five blocks before the turn for the hotel there were dozens of possible buildings.

Too many possibilities and too little time—unless she called in more troops. But if she did so, she risked exposing Ryder's secret. Could she do that in order to save him?

She didn't know. For now, all she could do was turn off the road and repeat the trip. Maybe she would see something she hadn't the first time.

Moving even slower, she earned more horn blasts. Again, there was nothing, but the turn to the hotel was blocked by traffic. Too impatient to wait, she passed the intersection, hoping to head up a block or two and then cut across. As she did so, she noted a small alley. Barely large enough to let a small truck through. She pulled in and stopped the van. Looking skyward, she saw the top of the New York Life building. Then she knew. Ryder was nearby.

There were two buildings on either side of the road, but only one of them had an entrance into the alley. It was a small two-story warehouse that had seen better days. Most of the windows along the upper floors were broken. The only ones still in place were those along the street level and they were cracked in spots and blackened with grime from the street.

Diana walked down the steps to the metal door that opened into the alley. It was locked. She went back to street level, lay down on her stomach and peered through a broken pane of glass. It was dark inside the space, except for a few weak shafts of light from the windows along the front of the building. The light wasn't enough to let her see anything, but she couldn't walk away without checking it out.

Rising, she brushed off the front of her white shirt, reached into her jacket and withdrew a small locksmith's kit. She wouldn't normally break in without a warrant and risk losing a suspect, but she had enough evidence for probable cause. Or at least, she hoped she would be able to convince a judge of that if it was necessary.

Taking out the lock picks, she worked at the mechanism until the cylinders clicked into place. She shot a glance at Melissa and Sebastian and motioned for them to join her as she opened the door.

 

They were familiar sounds by now. The grate of metal against metal. The groan as the door opened. The loud metallic clank as it closed again. Footsteps sounded against the cement floor and drew closer. “Back for more? The hell with you, Rudy.” He said the words out loud, but they were barely more than a whisper.

He expected Rudy's satisfied laugh and immediate punishment. Instead, startled gasps and the rush of footsteps reached his ears until Diana, Melissa and an unknown man stood before him.

“Oh, no. Ryder,” Melissa said, and covered her mouth with her hand.

Diana met his gaze for only a second before she ordered the man to help take Ryder down. Melissa undid the ropes around his legs as the man brought over a metal folding chair. Diana climbed up on it and undid the bindings on his arms. Then her arms held him close as she and the man eased Ryder onto the ground.

He sighed, closed his eyes and let himself slip away.

 

His body was rigid in her arms and surprisingly lightweight.

Melissa took Ryder's pulse and examined him as best she could. “He's barely alive.”

Diana pulled Ryder closer, cradling his head against her and bending to lay a kiss across his forehead.

“He's cold,” she said as the temperature of his body registered against her lips.

“We need to get him home, take care of his wounds and let him feed.” Melissa rushed into action, racing out of the building.

Diana looked up at her brother and he asked softly, “Do you love him?”

A wave of pain washed over her, and she couldn't answer. All she could do was bow her head, press it against Ryder's and pray. She hadn't prayed in a long time. Not since her dad. She held Ryder the way she had held her dad as his life slipped away. Her hands had been covered with her dad's blood in much the same way that they were now slick with Ryder's. “Sebastian, I can't survive this again.”

Sebastian dropped to his knees by her side and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You need to, Diana. Whether he survives or not. You need to stop the animal who did this. You can't let him do it again.”

Melissa came back, sparing Diana from answering. The doctor withdrew a bottle and syringe from a medical bag. The needle was long and Melissa squirted out a little of the liquid, then motioned to Diana to ease Ryder away. “I need to give him this shot.”

Diana nodded and shifted him so Melissa had access to his neck. She flinched as Melissa drove the needle into his skin and depressed the plunger. Ryder's body immediately began to convulse in her arms.

“Hold him down,” Melissa instructed.

Diana tightened her grip, and Sebastian joined her in keeping Ryder fairly immobile until Melissa had delivered all the medication.

“What is it?” she asked as Ryder strained against her hands and his body lost some of its stiffness.

Melissa looked at her and withdrew the needle. “A cocktail my dad mixed. Adrenaline to get things moving and other medicines to counteract the effects of the sun.”

Ryder opened his eyes then and tried to talk, but it was clear it taxed his strength to do so.

Diana laid her fingers on his lips. “Shh. You're going to be all right.”

There was an almost imperceptible shake of his head in denial and then he drifted off again. She looked at her brother. “Can you carry him to the van?”

Sebastian nodded, eased his arms beneath Ryder and lifted him. With Melissa at his side, they walked to the van. Diana dialed David's number and gave him the address and instructions on having a team in place to catch Rudy when he returned.

“Diana, you're going to have to help me,” Melissa said. “Sebastian, you drive.”

Sebastian took the keys from his sister and got behind the wheel. Diana rattled off the address of Ryder's apartment building. As Sebastian pulled away from the warehouse, Diana knelt beside Ryder and grimaced as she took in all the wounds he had suffered.

Deep slashes marred his chest and upper arms. A nasty wound marked the lower left side of his abdomen, as if he had been staked. It was more than an inch wide and the blow had been so forceful there was bruising around the area. There were two deep incisions, one along the middle of his chest and another along his midsection. Everywhere there was a wound, streaks of dried blood, the color of dark red rust, painted his body.

Diana reached up and caressed the side of his face. His body was cold, chilled by the sweat still pouring off of him. She slipped off her jacket and balled it into a cushion of sorts to pillow his head. Beneath her hands, his muscles were stiff and unyielding. If not for the occasional shudder from his body and his faint breath, she might have said he was gone already.

She laid her hand on his chest, careful to avoid the worst of the knife wounds. There was barely a hint of a heartbeat. She turned her head and glanced uneasily at Melissa, who was busy preparing another hypodermic. “He's really bad,” she said softly.

“It's too much for him—the blood loss and sun. He may be too far gone.”

Diana shook her head, unwilling to accept the other woman's words. “We're not going to lose him.”

Melissa looked away from Diana. “You love him,” she said simply as she tapped the hypo to remove the air bubbles.

Diana tore her gaze away from Melissa and looked back down at Ryder's unnaturally pale face, made even paler in comparison to his dark, sweat-drenched hair. “I…He's my only witness. I can't lose him.”

Melissa bent over Ryder as she slipped the hypo into him again. She depressed the plunger on the syringe, slowly feeding the clear liquid into Ryder's body. “One day you'll be able to admit what you feel.”

But Diana didn't respond.