Going Gone (21 page)

His stomach was in a knot as he strode to the pump. He wouldn’t let himself believe this was anything but a glitch. Computers did stuff like this all the time. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.

* * *

Laura came to in total darkness, immobilized, gasping for air, disoriented and in pain, but fully cognizant of what had happened. She was stunned that she was still alive and aware Inman had her. Since the vehicle was stopped, she imagined that he had taken her to the river to dump like he had all the others, then realized she could hear traffic and people talking, so that couldn’t be true.

She did a quick recon of her situation, felt the thin nylon rope tied around her wrists and assumed that was what was binding her ankles, as well. She didn’t know where Inman was, only that he wasn’t inside the van, but he could open the door at any moment. When he did, her chances of surviving this would lessen even more.

She could feel the cross dangling between her breasts as she lifted her wrists to her mouth to try to get herself free. Cameron knew she was in trouble. They couldn’t be far behind. All she needed was to delay Inman’s plans, so she began biting at the rope, trying to loosen the knots with her teeth. She was making progress, but not nearly fast enough, when she heard a click. He’d unlocked the door with the remote. A wave of fear washed through her.

Oh, God, please, no.

And then it was too late.

Inman was back in the van.

She froze. Her only chance of staying alive was to play dead.

* * *

Hershel was sick to his stomach as he got inside the van. The moment he locked the doors he got out his credit card and made a call to customer service. It rang and rang, and when it was finally answered, it was nothing but an automated voice. He cursed as he went through the process, punching numbers and waiting to be connected, until he finally got to a living, breathing human.

“Customer service. This is Martha. May I have your name, please?”

“Paul Leibowitz.”

“Thank you, Mr. Leibowitz, and how may I help you?”

“I just tried to use my credit card to get some gas and it was declined, so then I took it inside to an ATM and it was declined again. I want to know what’s going on. I am not delinquent in paying. In fact, I don’t owe any money on this card at all.”

“One moment please, and I’ll see what I can find out,” Martha said.

He frowned when she put him on hold, and as the music began playing he started up the van and pulled back onto the highway, on his way back to the barn he’d found yesterday. Right now, he needed this money thing ironed out.

One minute passed, and then another, before Martha came back on the line.

“I’m sorry for your wait, Mr. Leibowitz.”

“Did you get the glitch fixed?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, but your account has been frozen.”

Hershel swerved, then dropped the phone as he overcorrected and almost rolled the car. When he finally had it back on the highway, he grabbed the phone from between his legs and started yelling.

“Hello? Hello? Are you still there?”

“Yes, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

He was screaming. “You can fucking tell me why my account was frozen! That’s what you can do!”

“I don’t have that information, sir. I suggest you contact an attorney.”

The line went dead.

Hershel began cursing and slamming his fist against the steering wheel. All he could think was that they must have finally aired his picture to the public and nosy-ass Lucy had called in. And then he groaned. He’d forgotten that identifying him would also give them access to the name he was living under. He’d been away from this for too long and made a terrible mistake that had just cost him every penny he had. He couldn’t go back to Mexico. He could hide again, but it would be harder without money. Son of a bitch! This was not how he’d planned for things to turn out.

Don’t pretend to be surprised. This is what happens to people who do bad things.

“Shut up, Louise! Just shut up! I need to think!”

You can’t think yourself out of this mess. They’re on to you. This is where your revenge has taken you, and this is where it will end.

“I don’t care! I don’t care!” he screamed. “I’ll have the last laugh. She’s dead, and after I get rid of her body, it won’t matter what happens to me because I don’t fucking care.”

* * *

Laura’s elation at finding out the FBI was in the process of shutting him down ended when the van nearly rolled. She’d come close to screaming before the van finally leveled out, and he began talking to his dead wife. Both Nola and Jo had warned her that this had happened. Now she was experiencing it for herself.

When she heard him screaming that he thought that she was dead, she took a chance he wouldn’t notice any movement behind him and began trying to work the knots loose from around her hands again.

* * *

When the Stormchaser team realized Inman wasn’t taking her to the river, it changed the whole dynamic. Once again, everything was an unknown as they followed the moving blip onto Highway 267 westbound out of Reston. Tate put the accelerator to the floor, turning the passing scenery into a blur. Cars on the highway ahead of them heard the screaming siren, saw the flashing lights and began pulling over on both the right and left shoulders to give them space.

Cameron’s only focus was the blip. As long as it stayed in motion he could let himself believe they still had a chance.

Wade was in the backseat relaying mile-marker information to the Virginia Highway Patrol, praying someone would get to Inman faster from the other direction.

Wade’s staccato comments and the whine of the tires against the pavement were almost rhythmic, lulling them into a false sense of hope, and then Cameron suddenly groaned.

“He stopped! Inman stopped,” Cameron said.

“Where?” Wade asked.

Cameron told him the coordinates.

Seconds later Wade relayed a message back from a Virginia Highway patrol dispatcher. “It’s a gas station, Cameron. He just stopped to get gas.”

Tears blurred Cameron’s vision.

Nineteen

L
aura could hear Hershel muttering and crying as she chewed at the knots in the rope around her wrists. She didn’t know what was going on inside his head, but it was obvious that he was coming undone.

Over and over, she locked her teeth around the knot, pulling first one way and then the other, trying to get it to loosen. When it finally began to give, she almost cried out with relief. It was the impetus she needed to pull harder. The van was swerving all over the road again, and she was scared to death that they were going to crash before she could get free.

She didn’t realize Hershel was driving with one hand and making a phone call with the other until she heard him talking again.

* * *

Hershel’s theory was that if the credit-card account was frozen, then the bank account would be, too, but he had to know for sure. His fingers were trembling as he made the call.

“Fidelity National, how may I direct your call?”

“I need to speak to customer service, please,” he said.

“One moment.”

“Please, please, please. Please let it be okay,” he mumbled.

“Customer service, how may I help you?”

Startled by the loud, brusque voice, he flinched, fumbling the debit card in his hand. It fell into the floorboard, and once again he had to pull off to the side of the road to find it.

“Just a moment, don’t hang up!” he shouted. “I dropped my card.” A few seconds later he was back on the phone. “Hello? Hello?”

“Yes, sir, I’m still here. How may I help you?”

He didn’t realize he was sobbing.

“I tried to use my ATM card and it wouldn’t work.”

“What’s your name and account number, sir?”

Hershel gave her the info, then waited agonizing minutes for an answer before she came back.

“I’m sorry, sir, but your account has been frozen.”

Hershel hung up, and for a few seconds he stared blindly out the window without making a sound.

In the back of the van, Laura’s heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure he could hear it, but she managed to keep herself from making a sound.

She was still motionless and praying to be found when she heard what sounded like a high-pitched howl. At first she thought of the wolves that had tried to get into her wrecked plane. When she realized it was Hershel, the hair stood up on the back of her neck as the howl morphed into a scream.

Seconds later the van began to move, and her panic rose. Whatever was happening, it was bad, which didn’t help her chances of living through this. He sped up, the van going faster and faster, until the tires were whining on the pavement like the far-off whistle of a southbound train.

* * *

Cameron was on the edge of the seat, his gaze fixed on the highway before them. At any moment, he kept telling himself, they would top a hill and see Inman’s black van in the distance. Every few seconds he would glance back down at his iPad just to make sure the blip was still moving, and then he would shift focus to the highway.

“How much farther?” Tate asked.

“We’re about three, maybe four miles behind them,” Cameron said, but when he looked down to check, his heart skipped a beat. “They’ve stopped again. What the hell? What’s he doing?”

“Every time he stops or slows down, we get that much closer,” Tate said.

Cameron was at the point of losing it. The guilt he felt for what was happening to her rode heavy on his heart. He knew for a fact that if she hadn’t been engaged to him, this wouldn’t be happening. For her sake, he had to pull it together.

“Yes, I know that, but it doesn’t make this easier,” he said, then looked down. “They’re moving again.”

“We’re going to catch up,” Tate said.

Cameron touched the moving blip with the tip of his finger.

Hang on, Laura, honey. We’re coming to get you.

All of a sudden Cameron looked up and grabbed the dashboard, as if trying to push the car to go faster.

“He took a right! He’s going straight north off 267, and this map doesn’t even show a road there.”

Wade relayed the message to the highway patrol dispatcher, who sent it down the line.

“They’ll find us, and we’ll find Inman,” Wade said. “Have faith.”

Less than three minutes later Cameron pointed.

“There! I see an exit up ahead. He had to go that way.”

“I see it,” Tate said, and barely slowed down as he steered off the highway.

* * *

Laura felt the pull of gravity against her body as Hershel took a sharp right, and then she felt the pavement give way to unpaved road. Dust was coming up inside the van, but Hershel wasn’t slowing down. Twice the back end of the vehicle fishtailed in the loose dirt, but he kept on driving.

There was a coppery taste in her mouth. She was bleeding, most likely from the rough fibers of the rope, but she was still trying to get herself free. One moment she was still pulling on the knot, and the next thing she knew it was loose.

She swallowed a sob of thanksgiving and pulled more frantically at the second knot, which was looser. It came undone within moments, and then all of a sudden her hands were free. She bent down beneath the drop cloths, feeling the knots in the rope around her ankles. They were so loose they seemed to be afterthoughts.

Within moments she was completely untied. Her heart was pounding again, but this time with hope. She needed something to use as a weapon and wondered if he still had the Taser, or if he’d left it behind at her house.

* * *

While she was trying to second-guess a madman, Hershel began slowing down. As he rolled to a stop at the gate, he put the van in Park and got out on the run.

The moment Laura heard him get out she crept out from under the drop cloth to look for a weapon. She saw a crowbar on the other side of the van at the same time she heard footsteps coming back.

It was now or never.

She grabbed the crowbar and slid back out of sight even as he was getting into the seat.

When the van began to move again, the crowbar was tight within her grasp.

* * *

Hershel was numb. He was about to achieve his ultimate goal, yet nothing was going right. It was unlikely that he would escape this time, and a part of him didn’t really care. He was tired, so tired of cat-and-mouse games.

I told you that you would die.

When Hershel heard Louise’s voice, it demolished the last of his restraint. He began to argue, and the more he said, the louder he became, until he was screaming.

“Yes, Louise, yes, you did, and you were right. Is that what you want to hear? That you were right? Then I’ll say it again. You were right! You were right! You were right! So what? That just means I’ll finally see you again.”

You won’t see me.

He didn’t know what to make of that and no longer cared. He drove up to the old homestead and then all the way down to the barn and pulled the van inside like he had before. As he did, a pair of doves perched up on the rafters took flight.

He put the van in Park and killed the engine, thinking what had to be done. The body still had to be unloaded, and his back was already so damn sore he could hardly breathe. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to give up and just leave her body on the ground and let the rats go at it, or go ahead with his plan and hang her high.

Truth was, the whole hanging thing had been interesting only if he could have watched her die. As it was now, he would just be hauling deadweight up into the air to watch it swing. He wished again that he hadn’t killed her so fast back at the house.

* * *

Laura’s thoughts were in free fall. She’d already considered trying to take him from behind, but if she messed up, she would still be trapped inside the van. If she had a chance of living through this, she had to take him by surprise, and she needed room to run.

* * *

Hershel’s focus was on the noose he’d left hanging. Even though the day was windless, it was swinging slightly to and fro. He looked up and saw rats running across the rafters. They were what had set it in motion, and they would be the denouement to his final kill.

He pocketed the keys as he got out and, with purpose in every step, circled the van. The elation he’d expected to feel had been severely dimmed by his financial setback, but he was ending this his way, and that would have to be enough.

As he approached the back doors, a rat darted out from beneath the van. He kicked at it and missed, stirring up a cloud of dust instead.

“Nasty sons of bitches,” he muttered, and opened the back doors.

He was still looking down when Laura swung the crowbar. Pain exploded in his head as he dropped where he stood.

She leaped out of the van and swung the crowbar one more time while he was down. His body jerked from the impact. When she heard him grunt, she bolted, running out of the barn and into the pasture with the crowbar still in her hand, following the set of tracks that he’d left in the grass.

* * *

Tate was flying down the dirt road as fast as the SUV would go when Cameron began pointing at the fencerow.

“Turn right! Turn right where the fence is down, and hurry. They stopped again. This is it!”

Wade was still relaying directions to the police as Tate shot through the opening. It was obvious someone had driven through recently; the knee-high grass had been flattened into two distinct tracks.

In the distance they could see the rooftop of a barn, and in that moment Cameron realized Inman had never wanted her to be found. He was so damned scared he couldn’t catch his breath.

* * *

The sun was warm on Laura’s face. If she hadn’t been running for her life, it would have been a beautiful place to be. But running in the overgrown field was like running through quicksand. The grass and weeds kept wrapping around her legs and tugging at her clothing like a little kid who didn’t want to be left behind.

The first time she fell, she lost her breath. She was belly down and staring straight at a rabbit who was obviously as startled as she was. With no time to waste, she pushed herself to her knees, frantically gasping for air. By the time she got up she was in a panic. She looked back toward the barn, certain she would see the van coming for her, but it looked as abandoned as she felt. She started running again, but off the path into deeper grass, getting farther and farther away and closer to a band of trees.

One moment she was running, and the next thing she knew she was rolling and tumbling head over heels down a slope. She landed with a thump in a dry creek bed and didn’t get up.

* * *

Hershel opened his eyes, convinced his brains were in the dirt beneath his head. He’d been so sure he’d killed her, and instead she had killed him.

He was flat on his back and looking up at the rafters just as he and Louise had looked up at the sky while trapped on the roof of their house. But then she’d died and rolled off when he wasn’t looking. It would have been so simple if he’d died with her. He should have. Why didn’t he?

It’s over.

For once the sound of her voice was a comfort.

“Yes, Louise. It’s over.”

You will not kill again in my name.

Tears ran from the corners of his eyes, or maybe it was blood. It was difficult to tell.

You know they’re going to find you now.

Pain rolled through his body, and then he felt another kind of pain. He turned to look and saw a rat chewing on his hand. He doubled up his fist, and the rat skittered away.

“That fucking hurt!” he yelled, then closed his eyes as he rode out a new wave of pain.

When he opened his eyes again he saw the noose swaying right above his head, back and forth, back and forth, and before he knew it he was caught in the hypnotic motion. All he kept thinking was that it was supposed to have ended a life. It was a shame to let it go to waste.

He rolled onto his side, then made it up on his hands and knees before dropping his head, too sick and dizzy to move farther. But he kept telling himself he couldn’t quit now. He was tougher than this. It was the height of irony that he’d lived through a flood, an explosion and a tornado only to come to his end in such an ignoble fashion.

Gritting his teeth against the throbbing bone-deep pain in his head, he crawled to his van while the barn turned circles around him, and then managed to stand upright. He could hear sirens now. No time to waste. All he needed was the step stool.

He took a few staggering steps toward it, then stopped and threw up. By the time he was through, the sirens were louder, closer. He made another try at the step stool, and by the time he reached it, he was about to faint. He was seeing everything in triplicate, and finding it harder and harder to catch his breath. The sirens were screaming now, but it was okay. There was no breath left in him to scream for himself.

He pulled the step stool squarely beneath the noose and crawled on it, then stood up and made a last-moment grab at the rope to keep from falling. The barn was spinning faster as he pulled the noose over his head, settling it firmly around his neck.

The sirens tore holes in the air, shattering his concept of up and down. He closed his eyes and jumped just as the stool fell out from beneath his feet.

* * *

Tate drove past the broken foundation and the standing chimney toward what was left of an old barn.

Cameron had his gun out and his hand on the door when Wade pointed.

“There’s a vehicle inside the barn!”

Tate hit the brakes, bringing the SUV to a stop a few yards back.

The state police were only seconds behind them, but they’d lost Inman twice already. Tate wasn’t waiting.

“Fan out!” he ordered as they hunkered down in the grass to take cover and headed toward the barn in a crouch.

Cameron was less than twenty yards out when he caught a glimpse of something dangling from the rafters and stopped. The image was both startling and unexpected. If Inman was dead, then where was Laura? What the hell had he done to her first?

He started running, calling her name.

Wade saw him and yelled out, “Cameron! What the hell?”