Killer Love (42 page)

The confusion clouding her mind increased. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her thinking, to calm herself. It didn’t help. She could smell her own sweat and the sour odor of fear. She recognized the fear. She’d felt it six years ago when she’d watched her husband murdered in front of her eyes.

Think, Abby, think.

The last thing she remembered was being at the bar with Diane. They’d had a few drinks, maybe too many, because most of the night was fuzzy. She didn’t remember leaving the bar...had no idea what had happened

“Diane...?”

“Your friend from the bar? She’s fine. I watched you two. Waited until she got you home. Then, I broke into your house and took you. Easy peasy.”

“What do you want?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He cuffed her other hand to the rail. “I will tell you, I don’t have a beef with you. It’s your boyfriend. You’re just a pawn in my quest to bring Wil to justice. A tool, collateral damage, whatever you want to call it.”

“Wil? Why?”

He heaved a deep sigh. “You don’t listen, do you? I said, no questions. You’ll know what I want you to know when I want you to know it.”

She fell silent, her horrified mind trying to grasp what was happening...and why.

He leaned over her and she saw the syringe in his hand.

“No, please.” She shrank back, but there was nowhere to go.

“I’ve got to leave for a little while and I need to know you won’t be discovered.”

She felt a sting, then a burn as the liquid entered her veins. He stuffed a handkerchief in her mouth.

“This is to keep you quiet, not that there’s much danger if you do yell. I just like to err on the side of caution. No one to come to your rescue, even if you could scream for help. You’re in one of those out of the way places where screaming is not uncommon.”

He said more, but she didn’t catch it. His words faded away, as did the room.

****

The Avenger sat on a bench at the outdoor skating rink, his eyes on the kids rolling along under the stars to the beat of a song by a female pop singer. He thought it might be Avril Lavigne, but wasn’t sure.

He wore black framed glasses with lenses so thick they distorted his eyes, making him look like Don Knotts on acid. He’d shoved a Florida Marlins cap over his brown hair. A fake mustache completed the look.

Lying next to him on the bench was a pair of shoes—blue flats such as a young girl might wear—and a pink canvas bag with ‘Kelsy’ spelled out in black glitter. Inside the bag was a pair of binoculars, a knife, and a Beretta. He couldn’t decide which weapon to bring, so he’d brought both.

A plump but pretty thirtyish mother, also holding her child’s belongings, sat beside him. They’d already discussed what a handful pre-teen girls could be, but agreed they wouldn’t trade them for the world, God love ‘em.

“Which one is Kelsy?” she asked him now. Her daughter was Amy and she had proudly pointed her out a few minutes ago.

He craned his neck as if searching for his daughter. “You know, I don’t see her,” he said, forcing concern into his voice. At that moment, Lindsey and her friend headed toward the back of the rink where the food and beverage vendors were set up. He grabbed the shoes and bag and stood. “I better go look for her. You can’t be too careful, you know. The things that happen to young girls these days.” He shook his head and tut-tutted. “Nice meeting you,” he threw over his shoulder as he walked away, then made a show of searching the sea of teenagers for his fake daughter, while keeping Lindsey and her friend in his sights. Man, if being a real father was even half this much work, he wanted no part of it.

He saw the girls slip past an Italian Ice vendor into an area that spilled out onto the beach. They were moving rapidly now and he picked up his pace and followed.

By the time he reached the spot where they’d exited the skating area, they were midway down the beach. It was darker out here, the half moon barely giving off enough light to make out the figures hurrying across the sand. He stayed in the shadows, close enough to keep an eye on them, but not close enough to give away his presence.

The girls stopped beneath a pier near the water and he ducked behind a pile of brush thirty feet away.

What were they doing out here? He didn’t think it was parentally approved, whatever it was.

He took the binoculars from the bag and brought them to his eyes, focusing just in time to see the flame of a lighter touch the tip of a cigarette.

Lindsey, you naughty girl.

So, they’d come out here to smoke. Which meant they probably wouldn’t be here long. He’d have to make a move soon. This would likely be his best opportunity. And he needed to get it over with. He didn’t like leaving Abby alone at the motel. It made him nervous that she might be discovered. Of course, with sedatives, handcuffs, and a gag, even the most unruly of women could be tamed.

What to do about the friend? He didn’t want to hurt the other girl. She wasn’t part of this, wasn’t tainted with Theodore’s blood. But, he might have to. He didn’t see another way.

About the time Lindsey finished the cigarette, he heard the low roar of a small motor, getting louder by the second. He swung the binoculars around and spotted a three-wheeler approaching along the sand. Two guys were on it. Young, maybe early twenties, white teeth gleaming in their smooth, tanned faces.

They stopped next to the girls.
Uh oh.
Could be trouble. If these guys started hassling Lindsey and her friend, he might have to pull a rescue mission,
then
hit the girls.

But no, as he watched, the boy on the back climbed off and went over to Lindsey, giving her a hug. Lindsey’s friend slid on the motorbike behind the driver and the two of them took off, waving to the couple left behind.

Another dilemma. Lindsey still wasn’t alone. However, unlike his hesitation about hurting Lindsey’s girlfriend, he wouldn’t mind taking this asshole out. The guy had to be at least twenty, and he was messing with a fourteen-year-old. That wouldn’t do. Just wouldn’t do at all.

Slipping the knife out of the bag, The Avenger moved quietly along the darkened beach, coming up behind loverboy.

The guy had a hand up Lindsey’s shirt and was feasting on her neck, but she didn’t seem to be enjoying it. Her eyes were open and the look on her face was that of someone passing a kidney stone.

When Lindsey saw The Avenger, her eyes widened in fear and her mouth made a little ‘o’ of surprise. Loverboy hadn’t heard his approach. He was too busy making like a vacuum cleaner on Lindsey’s young flesh.

The Avenger lifted his index finger to his lips in a shushing gesture and winked like he and Lindsey shared a secret. Then, he brought the knife up and plunged it into the back of loverboy’s neck. The guy groaned and dropped to the ground like the recipient of a George Foreman uppercut.

Lindsey released the scream she’d been working on and The Avenger quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. He slapped the chloroformed rag over her face, covering her nose and lips. She slumped, and he slung her over his shoulder, then quickly carried her back up the beach.

Chapter Six

In the dream, Wil had a chance to save Tara. Even though she’d committed suicide, by some cosmic miracle, she was alive and standing in front of him with a gun to her head, which was bizarre in itself since she’d died by hanging.

A phone rang and he knew if he answered it, Tara would pull the trigger. But what if it was the station and they had an emergency? Even in the dream, he realized the thought was crazy. His wife holding a gun to her head was an obvious emergency.

Still, he let his gaze flick to the phone. When he turned back to Tara, she was gone and Abby stood in her place.

Now he leaned more toward ignoring the phone and felt guilty about choosing Abby over Tara.

“Please don’t,” he said in a strangled voice and even though he knew he was dreaming, he was also aware he’d spoken out loud, because he could feel the strain in his throat.

The ring became more shrill and his eyes snapped open. He looked at the alarm clock. Two-fourteen a.m.

He fumbled for the receiver and lifted it to his ear. “’allo,” he mumbled into the mouthpiece.

“Wil? It’s Lesli.”

“Lesli? From the station?”

“Yes. I need you to come down to the beach. Komano Bay.”

He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear away the last vestiges of the dream. “What is it?”

“I’d rather not say until you get here.”

“What the hell happened?” he demanded, now wide awake.

There was a pause, then, “It’s your daughter.”

Panic beat at his mind and his heart raced. He jumped out of bed, yanking a pair of jeans on over his boxer briefs, the phone trapped between his ear and shoulder. “Was she in an accident?”

She couldn’t have been in an accident. She was spending the night with Alyssa. There was no way anything could happen to her at two o’clock in the morning.

“No, not an accident.” She paused again. “She’s missing.”

He struggled into a T-shirt, headed out the door and slid into his pickup, the phone still at his ear as he backed out of the drive and pulled onto the road.

“Missing? From Alyssa’s house? How?”

“No, not from Alyssa’s house.” A sigh. “Come to Komano Bay. You’ll see the cruisers. I’ll explain everything when you get here.”

“Lesli...” He could hear the tremble, the desperation, the terror in his voice.

“Wil, are you going to be okay to drive?”

“Yeah,” he told her, but he wasn’t so sure. The lights along the causeway were like yellow-white laser beams shooting at him, then blending into the night, into the other cars whizzing by.

Wil felt a rush go through his body, like a balloon releasing air inside his rib cage. His heart thumped painfully, and hysteria was quickly winning over his fight to stay calm.

His daughter was missing. Something had happened to his baby girl.

Once again, he hadn’t been there to stop it.

****

In just under ten minutes, Wil arrived at the beach.

He left the keys in the truck and barely took the time to close the door as he rushed through the cool night air toward the flashing lights spraying reds and blues out over the water.

Lesli had her back to him, but he recognized her standing with a couple of the male deputies a few feet beyond the cruisers.

Wil ran across sand that felt like molasses, hearing Lesli’s loose jacket flapping loudly in the wind, the only sound he could detect as he zeroed in on his target. When he reached her, he grabbed her by the shoulder, turning her to face him.

“What happened?”

Before she responded, he looked past her to where an ambulance sat, not moving. Yellow crime scene tape cordoned off an area about ten by ten around the pier. A figure was lying still in the sand.

“Oh, God.” He shoved past the officers toward the body. They’d told him she was missing, not...

“Wil, wait.” Lesli followed, grabbing a handful of Wil’s T-shirt, momentarily halting his progress. “It’s not Lindsey. It’s a young man who was with Lindsey.”

Wil looked again and saw that the figure was indeed male. He wore white athletic shoes and blue jeans with a dark-colored shirt. A wet pool glistened in the white sand beneath his head. Blood.

“With her?” Dazed, he looked back at Lesli. “She was with Alyssa. Not this guy. You’ve made a mistake.”

Lesli’s gaze dropped to the ground, then moved further up the beach where a small group of people stood. Wil recognized Alyssa.

Leaving Lesli and her protests, he rushed over to Alyssa. Lindsey’s friend sobbed and trembled, rivers of black mascara streaking her face. A man around the same age as the dead guy stood a few feet away. His face was white and pinched and he had his arms folded over himself. His lower lip was lined with half a dozen small gold hoops. A bar pierced the area between his lower lip and chin, and it vibrated with his quaking. Tears and snot dripped over the metal.

Wil grabbed Alyssa by the upper arms. “Where’s Lindsey? What happened?” When she didn’t answer, he gave her a shake. “Alyssa, tell me where she is!”

Alyssa shook her head. “I don’t know,” she sobbed. “Oh God, he’s dead.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. Your friend is dead.” He took a deep breath. “But, Alyssa, where is Lindsey? Where the hell is my daughter?” In spite of trying to stay calm, the last words ended on a roar and his grip tightened on Alyssa’s thin arms.

“I don’t know,” she screamed, seeming to focus on him for the first time. “God, I don’t know.” Her sobbing increased in volume and Wil felt her tremble beneath his fingertips. “My mom and dad are going to kill me when they get here. Oh, God, I’m so dead.”

Wil felt someone approach from behind, but didn’t turn around until Lesli tugged on his arm. He let her pull him away, his wild gaze searching through the throng of people gathering on the beach, praying that, by some miracle, one of them would be Lindsey.

****

“A-bb—y, oh, A-bb—y...wake u-p!”

The singsong voice penetrated her drug induced sleep.

Eyes still closed, she frowned, an elusive memory just beyond her consciousness. It was as if a thick curtain had dropped over her mind and she almost knew what was on the other side, but not quite.

Needles of pain like tiny bee stings worked through her hands and arms. Her wrist bones ached and the flesh around them felt tender, raw.

Suddenly, the curtain lifted. She knew exactly what was on the other side.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. A hockey mask hovered a few inches above her face.

“Good, you’re awake. Can’t sleep the day away. We have a lot to do.” He straightened and dropped into the chair next to the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. “Now, here’s what’s going on. The surgery was to install a tiny device in your lower stomach.”

“Device?” she croaked.

“Yes. An explosive device.”

She sucked in a breath, a gasp that was more like a sob. “What? What are you talking about?”

“I know. Sucks, doesn’t it? But as long as your boyfriend does as I say, it should be okay. You’re an insurance policy, although, actually, I have two.”