Mortal Sin (45 page)

For a split second the last week flashed through Sean’s mind, and an overwhelming sense of loss and despair flooded through him.

But it wasn’t Lucy.

“Lucy!” Kate cried. “Oh God—”

“It’s not Lucy,” Sean said.

Kate shook her head. “Oh, God, sorry, I just—”

“Expected the worst.”

This poor woman had been dead for several days, but more telling than her time of death was her build—she was chunkier and shorter than Lucy.

Sean looked up and saw the stain on the wall. He searched the other stalls and found more stains, some so faded they blended with the old, chipped dark red paint. At least nine. No other bodies, but it appeared that the stalls were crypts, and the bodies buried there. The ground was too hard now, but in the summer …

“We don’t have to wait,” Sean said.

“We need to know exactly where she is,” Kate said. “If we storm the house, he could kill her.”

Sean pulled thermal binoculars out of his bag and turned them on. Kate stared in envy. “We don’t get those.”

“They’re expensive, and probably cost twice as much for the government.”

“How far can you see?”

“From here to the house. But the far side of the house isn’t going to show accurately. The more walls the infrared has to penetrate, the weaker and less reliable the signal.”

He retraced his steps back to the barn door and looked through the binoculars. The cold helped. He saw one heat signal on the second floor.

“One person upstairs.”

“One?”

Sean looked at the house with his bare eyes. “There’s a basement. I’ll need to move closer to get a better angle—with ground interference, I can’t get a good line of sight this far away.”

“Let’s regroup.” She glanced at her watch. “SWAT is seven minutes.”

When they’d returned behind the barn, Hans said, “They’re estimating twelve minutes now. They encountered an unplowed road.”

“There’s a body in the barn, about a week dead,” Kate said. “And evidence of others. Sean spotted one person upstairs. He needs to get closer to look in the basement. Sean and I are going to go around the back of the house. Hans and Dillon, you circle around to the trees behind the house and keep a lookout. As soon as we have confirmation
that Lucy is inside we’ll act. Hans, you still have an open line?”

“Yes, SWAT’s listening.”

“Okay. Keep them up to date with the status and our location. And cover us.” She gave Dillon a quick kiss, then turned to Sean. “You ready?”

He nodded.

They skirted along the edge of the woods until they had the best line of sight to the basement. Though they were exposed across the open hundred feet to the house, they crossed without incident. Sean approached a basement window which was almost completely obscured by snow. He couldn’t see through the glass, but he was able to angle the binoculars to assess if there was anyone downstairs.

He saw two heat signatures. Two? Had Miller gone downstairs? One was sitting, one was lying down. Was it a dog? Maybe a large guard dog? No. Definitely human, the arms were obvious. Lean body, but it was huddled up as if to conserve heat. He showed Kate. She looked perplexed. He scanned the house again. There was a heat signature upstairs as well.

Kate whispered into her two-way radio, “Hans, there are two individuals in the basement, one on the second floor.” She motioned to the porch.

Sean shook his head. “Window.”

He started scooping snow. He quickly realized that the window was far too small for either him or Kate to get through.

Kate whispered, “We go up the steps—I go right, you go left—and look for a way in. Keep communication open.”

He nodded, stuffed his binoculars back into his bag, and pulled out his gun.

They started up the back stairs.

Lucy’s head throbbed from the attack, and her body ached from being dragged through the snow and down the stairs. She was bleeding from her head and a gash on her arm so deep it would need stitches.

She looked at the window across the basement. There was something different—it seemed brighter, some of the snow was gone. But she couldn’t see anything outside, and her vision was cloudy. She suspected she had a concussion, but she couldn’t let any injury slow her down. She needed a plan.

“Carolyn!” she whispered.

No answer.

“Don’t obey him! Please, I need your help. You’ve been here longer. You must know a way out.”

Carolyn wasn’t talking. Miller’s threats had worked. Lucy pleaded, but Carolyn pretended not to hear her.

“His name is Peter Miller. He is on parole for statutory rape. He raped six high school students. His own students. Only two would testify, and I’m sure they were scared of him. But still they did it! They stood up to him! You have to do this. Please, Carolyn, I can’t do this by myself!”

Carolyn whimpered, then whispered so low that Lucy barely heard her. “I don’t want to die.”

Lucy sighed and swallowed back tears. “Neither do I. Does he have a gun?”

No answer.

“Okay, let’s do it this way. Move closer to the heater
so I can see you better. Nod or shake your head. That way you’re not talking.”

It took Carolyn a minute to comply. “Now, does he have a gun?”

Carolyn nodded.

“Good. Where is it?” No answer. “Does he keep it on his person?”

She shook her head.

“Where …” This was a ridiculous game of Twenty Questions, but Lucy understood fear, and Carolyn couldn’t overcome Miller’s brainwashing overnight.

“In the kitchen?”

No
.

“His bedroom?”

She shrugged.

“You saw a gun somewhere else?”

Yes
.

She pictured the house she’d walked through earlier. It was immaculate. Clean and tidy. The kitchen, living room, stairwell … but there was a hall closet near the front door. Easy to access, right where someone might approach the house.

“The hall closet?”

Yes
.

“Okay, I need that gun.”

Carolyn shook her head, then held up two fingers.

“There are two guns? Together?”

No
. Then she whispered, “Den.”

Lucy smiled. “Good. Thank you. Two guns … that gives me another option.”
If we get out of this damn cage
. “You don’t have to do anything, except distract him. If he comes for us, both of us, and we’re walking out the door, you run.”

Carolyn shook her head rapidly.

“You have to. He’ll go after you and I can get the gun. I know how to use it. I won’t miss. It’s the only way I can think of to end this. Unless you want me to run and you get the gun.” Lucy didn’t like that idea at all. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

Carolyn’s bottom lip quivered and she shook her head.

“Please, Carolyn.”

There were footsteps running down the stairs, from the second floor to the first. Carolyn whimpered and crawled back to her corner.

Lucy braced for Miller to burst through the door and hurt her again. But he didn’t.

Then there was silence. That scared Lucy even more.

I stand by the front door. How long I am here, I do not know, but I stand and wait. A sentry. Protecting my women from predators. I wait. I listen. My eyes are closed because they will deceive me
.

Listen
.

CREAK
.

Someone is on the porch
.

I open my eyes. The sky is gray, the mist settling into my valley, so I can see only the faint outline of the barn. The snow covers the ground so evenly, so perfectly, that I see every imperfection
.

The deep trail left from when I brought the disobedient female back to her cage. My earlier footprints to and from the barn
.

I carefully walk around to the back of the house. I look out through the crack where the drapes meet. A set of footprints across the fresh snow, from the woods to
my house. There’s a second trail farther out. I see no one
.

But I hear a footfall
.

CREAK
.

I aim toward the sound and fire through the window
.

Kate fell and crawled to the far end of the porch. Sean swore silently as he dove into the snow. Kate gave him a hand signal that she was all right, but Sean knew she’d been hit.

Sean moved as fast as he could through the snow, around the edge of the house, the porch blocking his body from view, but he didn’t go up the front steps. Instead, he pulled himself over the railing at the corner and flattened his body against the side of the house. He peered through a crack in the blinds and saw Miller standing by the back door, looking out through the drapes, toward where Kate had gone.

Sean bent low and walked silently to the front door. He carefully tried the knob. Locked.

In his earpiece, Hans said, “SWAT five minutes.”

Sean wasn’t going to risk responding and having Miller hear him. If he could get inside and to Lucy before SWAT set up, he could protect her and surprise Miller if he came down to the basement. He needed to get in.

Sean put his gun in his left hand, and with his right he quietly picked the lock. He prayed there was no interior dead bolt. He heard a faint click when the lock was sprung.

He waited, gun back in his right hand, and listened. He didn’t hear any movement. He pictured the interior of the house from where he’d observed it through the window. The entry area couldn’t be seen from the back door. If Miller was still there, Sean could get in. If not …

He whispered into his mic, “I need a distraction in the back.”

Hans responded. “Ten-four.”

A moment later a single gunshot went off from the trees where Hans and Dillon were. There was movement in the house—Miller ran past the front door and up the stairs.

Sean quickly opened the door and heard Miller running down the upstairs hall. A half-minute later he fired from an upstairs window.

Sean closed the door. “I’m in,” he whispered. “I’m going for Miller.”

“Negative,” Kate said.

Sean ignored her. Lucy was downstairs, Miller was upstairs. Sean was between them. Miller was the obvious target.

He flattened his back against the wall at the base of the stairwell. There was silence now, the final report of the rifle fading. Staying on the edge of the stairway, Sean started up, gun ready.

The staircase had a turn halfway up. Sean paused, then peered around the corner.

Clear.

He moved quickly, listening carefully, and suddenly Miller sprinted toward the end of the hall. Miller saw Sean at the same moment Sean said, “Drop it, Miller. Now.”

Miller dove through another doorway and Sean heard footsteps running downstairs.

Shit!
There was another staircase.

Sean jumped over the stair rail and Miller shot at him from the kitchen. He missed, then reached for a door.

The basement.

Sean fired in rapid succession. He hit Miller in the hand and Miller dropped the gun.

Miller ran back the way he’d come. Sean said, “He’s on the move and injured.” Sean hesitated. He wanted to pursue Miller, but if he circled around, Miller might have yet another entrance to the basement. He would be leaving Lucy unprotected.

Sean opened the unlocked door and took one cautious step down. The basement was barely lit, faint light coming in from the narrow windows.

“Lucy?” he called, louder than he’d intended. Rescue operations might be part and parcel for the course in his brothers’ lives, but not his. He was the brains behind the operation, not the operative himself.

Except now he didn’t have a choice.

“Sean! Oh God, Sean!”

He closed the door at the top of the stairs so he’d know if Miller was coming through. He found the light switch, which lit only two fluorescent lights, one above the door and one in the center of the basement.

He saw the cage. And Lucy looking up at him through the bars.

Sean’s chest tightened with a rage so powerful he nearly stumbled as he ran down the stairs.

“Lucy!” He knelt next to her, and she reached out of the bars and grabbed his neck.

He kissed her, holding her face with one hand. Blood
had dried on her cheek and matted her hair. She had a gash on her arm that looked deep, and her sweater was torn in multiple places. She was so cold, her entire body shaking. He looked at her bare feet; she had no shoes. He quickly took off his shoes and socks, and handed her his socks before putting back on his shoes.

“Where’s Miller?” Lucy asked as she pulled on the socks.

“I don’t know where he went. I shot him, but he ran to the back of the house. He’s not getting out without a confrontation—SWAT is almost here, and Dillon, Kate, and Hans are outside. But I need to get you out of the cage first.”

Lucy said, “And Carolyn.” She motioned toward the corner.

A blond woman stared at him with huge blue eyes. The resemblance to the younger Rosemarie Nylander, Miller’s ex-wife, was stunning.

Lucy said, “He really screwed with her head. This isn’t going to be easy.”

He assessed the combination lock on the cage door. He handed Lucy his lock pick and said, “Can you get out of the handcuffs?”

She nodded and started working on the cuffs.

Sean went over to the padlock. He put his ear to the lock and listened to the tumbler as he turned the knob.

“Sean, do you smell something?”

“Shh.” He had to concentrate or he’d miss the sound and feeling of the clicks.

One
. A tumbler fell into place, and he turned the other way, all the way around, then listened very carefully …

Lucy freed herself from the handcuffs, then crawled
over to Carolyn. “We’re leaving, Carolyn, and you’re coming with us. I won’t let him hurt you again.”

Sean focused on the lock … except he then smelled what Lucy had smelled.

He glanced up the stairs. Smoke billowed under the door. Then the lights went out. Lucy gasped and Carolyn whimpered.

“Sean, you have to get out—go—”

“Not without you.”

“Sean—” She left Carolyn and reached for his hand.

“Lucy, I’m not leaving.” He kissed her through the bars. “Now, shh, I need to listen.”