No Escape (11 page)

He pushed on the gas. ‘You jump out now and you’ll break a leg. Don’t be such a worrywart.’

She clung to the door as if it offered some kind of pathetic moral support. The car rocked and bumped as he drove deeper into the development.

‘It rained the other day. Makes for softer soil. Tough on driving but rain is good. This drought has been rough on Texas.’

At the back of the development he parked at the end of a cul-de-sac. He turned off the truck and set the brake.

She jerked on the door latch, but the door didn’t open. ‘The door doesn’t work.’

‘That door doesn’t open from the inside. Heck of an inconvenience. I’ll come around and let you out.’

‘Out? Why would I want to get out here?’

He slammed his car door and came around to her side. When he opened it she was clinging to the seat. ‘I am not getting out.’

‘Yes, you are.’

She screamed as if someone, maybe Keri, had told her to do it.

He winced and then shoved a rag in her mouth. He pulled tape from his pocket and flattened it over the gag. A second later he had handcuffs out of his pocket and on her wrists. She moaned and struggled. ‘Now, now, Bluebonnet. Stop your worrying. This isn’t going to hurt a bit.’

When he’d killed Christa, he’d been awkward and afraid. Now fear didn’t overwhelm him. In fact, he felt energized and excited. Harvey would be pleased.

He hoisted Bluebonnet up on his shoulder and walked toward the foundation frame of a house and into the center of the dirt square. He dropped her to the ground and before she could scramble to her feet, he tied her ankles together. ‘Be right back, darlin’. Need to get my shovel.’

He hustled back to his truck, grabbed his shovel from under a tarp in the bed and hurried back to find Bluebonnet had rolled several feet away. He jammed the shovel in the soft earth before dragging her back by her ankles. The tape and gag muffled her screams.

‘Where you going, girl? Party is about to start.’

It took him a half hour to dig a sizable hole. He’d have finished faster but a couple of times he had to stop and drag her back.

A fine sheen of sweat covered his forehead when he finished his digging and he grabbed Bluebonnet under the arms and hauled her toward the hole. He pulled her upper body in first followed by her legs. Moonlight reflected off a gold charm around her neck and, unable to resist the trophy, he snatched it free and shoved it in his pocket.

Thrashing against her restraints, desperation oozed from her. He grabbed his shovel and covered her in dirt. Harvey had taught him to cover the face last. The panic in the eyes was to be savored.

That is the best part.

He continued shoveling until all that remained uncovered was Bluebonnet’s nose and eyes. He stared into those eyes for long seconds before dumping dirt on her face. Within a minute she was completely covered.

The earth cracked the tiniest fraction, and he heard her gagged moans.

He smiled.

The day had gone well and Harvey would have been so proud. ‘I promise, Harvey, there will be many more.’

Hanna held her breath as the dirt plastered against her face, filling her nose. Heart pounding hard in her chest, she moved her head from side to side trying to knock the dirt from her face. But the weight grew heavier and heavier as her heart slammed her ribs and her lungs screamed for air.

Keri had never told her about this. She’d said johns could be tricky. They could hit. Steal. Leave you to walk back to your corner. But Keri had never told her about this.

Thump, thump, thump.
Her heart thundered, ready to burst out of her chest.

Unable to hold her breath any longer she snorted a breath but when she inhaled she pulled in dirt, which clogged her nose.

Thump, thump, thump.

Her heart labored now and her head spun. She wanted to scream but couldn’t.

Keri, you never told me about this.

‘I love you, Bluebonnet.’ His muffled voice reached below the earth.

Keri!

Her heart pounded.

Her head swam.

And then her mind went blank.

Monday, April 8, 7:30
P.M.

The support group Jo ran for the at-risk teen girls was held in the basement of the Catholic church, located in east Austin. As Jo headed into the church’s fellowship hall, she checked her messages, expecting to see a note from Brody. Brody had done a fine job of ignoring Jo’s phone messages today. After she’d left the first, she’d assumed it would be a matter of time before he called her back. But when she checked the clock hours later and realized he’d not called, she’d made calls to a friend in the Rangers’ office and gotten his home address. She’d track him down after this meeting.

Avoidance was his specialty when he didn’t want to talk. She understood that. But this was about the case. Not them. And she wanted to interview Smith one more time. So she and Brody were going to talk tonight.

Jo shrugged off her coat and put down her bag of groceries. She had about twenty minutes to set up before the girls arrived.

As she pulled sugar cookies from the bag and plated them, the back door opened to a petite blonde with scraggly hair and eye shadow so thick, it made her look as if she’d been bruised.

Jo had seen her once or twice before in the last six months. She wore leather pants, red high-top tennis shoes, a tank top and a white, furry, bolero jacket that made her thin frame look fragile.

‘Sadie,’ Jo said.

A half smile tweaked the girl’s thin lips. ‘You have a good memory, Doc.’

Jo searched her mind for details about the girl. Said she was seventeen but Jo would have guessed younger, closer to fifteen. She’d been on the streets about a year. She didn’t prostitute but made deliveries for the drug dealers and pimps. So far, Sadie had stayed away from using drugs but the streets chewed up young girls like her. The descent into drugs was often a matter of time.

‘I’ve brought cookies but haven’t had the chance to put the coffee on yet, Sadie.’

The girl smiled. ‘I can do that.’

Jo didn’t hide her surprise. ‘You can work one of those big coffeemakers?’

‘I wish I had a dollar for all the pots of coffee I made when I was a kid.’ She shrugged off her jacket and laid it on a chair before vanishing into the kitchen and reappearing with the big steel coffeepot.

Sadie had been cautious about opening up. In fact, this detail about her making coffee was the first Jo really had on the girl. As tempted as Jo was to probe the girl’s past, she didn’t. She’d made it a rule not to pry but to let the girls open up when they were ready. This was a safe place for the girls where she listened and answered questions without offering unsolicited opinions.

As Jo arranged the chairs in a circle, Sadie made quick work of the coffeepot, filling the cylinder with water, setting the basket of grounds inside and flipping the switch. Within seconds it gurgled and popped.

‘Haven’t seen you in a while,’ Jo said.

Sadie picked up a cookie and nibbled on it. ‘Been working.’

It broke Jo’s heart to think about the ‘work’ the kid did. ‘I know it’s hard to get away.’

‘Lots of deliveries to make normally but tonight turned out to be slow.’

‘I’m glad you could make it. Have a seat. You’ve got to be tired.’

Sadie shrugged and sat. ‘I’m okay.’

‘I love tennis shoes but my mother loves high heels. So does my sister. But I’m not so good in them. I’ve my favorite pumps, but I’m not sure on my feet in any other heel.’

‘Your mom wears heels?’

Jo arched a brow. ‘Yeah. Mom’s always put a lot of care into her appearance.’

The kid cocked her head as she studied Jo. ‘I’d think you’d have the practical sort of mom. You know, one that bakes cookies and shit.’

Jo laughed. ‘Mom dusts off her stove every few months and knows the number of a dozen takeout places by heart. She hasn’t cooked in years.’

‘What does she do?’

‘Works in a beauty salon. She’s one of the best colorists in the state from what I hear.’

Sadie stared at her, interest popping from her gaze. ‘She color your hair?’

Jo sat in a seat across from Sadie and crossed her legs. ‘No. Mom wanted to color it more times than I can count, but I never let her. In the beauty department, I’m a big disappointment to her.’

Sadie shrugged. ‘You’re cute enough. I know a dude named Daddy who could find you clients.’

Jo laughed. ‘Thanks, I think.’

‘Your bones and cheeks are pretty. Just need to glam it up a bit.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ Jo watched the girl nibble the cookie and decided to break one of her rules. ‘Where did you learn to make coffee?’

For a moment Sadie hesitated before saying, ‘At my dad’s church. He was a preacher, and Mama and I were always setting up for some social.’

She’d mentioned her father at the last meeting. They’d had a terrible fight, which was why she’d left home. ‘Have you talked to your dad lately?’

‘Not since Mom died. It got hard to live around him.’

‘How long’s it been since he’s seen you?’

‘A year.’

‘Think he’s worried?’ She didn’t assume her father missed her. A lot of the girls that came in here had families who’d tossed them aside like yesterday’s garbage.

‘I don’t know.’ Sadie shifted, as if uncomfortable. ‘You close to your dad?’

‘My dad?’ Her thoughts went first to Cody Granger, then to Smith and back to Granger. ‘My dad died five years ago. But when he was alive, we didn’t have a lot in common.’

Sadie’s eyes widened. ‘Why?’

‘I liked my books. He was a man who didn’t care to read. He was an electrician and made his living with his hands.’

Sadie studied her, her gaze keen. ‘Yeah, but he loved you, right?’

Jo remembered a time when her dad had taken her to a bookstore and told her she could spend twenty dollars. He’d waited outside, uncomfortable in his muddy boots, as she’d run inside. ‘Yeah, in his way he did. He didn’t understand.’

‘I hear you.’

The recreation room door opened and two gals dressed much like Sadie sauntered into the room. ‘Hey, Doc,’ one of the girls shouted. ‘What’s shaking?’

‘Not much, Deidra. How about you?’

Deidra was five months pregnant and had been ready to drop out of school when her school counselor had referred her to Jo’s group. She wasn’t making A’s but Jo was grateful at this point for the C minuses. ‘Can’t complain. No, scratch that,’ she said. ‘Complaining is the reason I come here.’

Immediately, Sadie stiffened and the easy openness in her gaze vanished. She rose and put on her coat. ‘Doc, I better get going. I’ve been here longer than I should. Folks is gonna be looking for me.’

Jo rose, smoothing her hands over her slim skirt. ‘Sadie, you can stay.’

‘Naw.’ She scooped up two cookies and dropped them in the pocket of her jacket. ‘Thanks, Doc.’

‘Sadie, please stay.’

The girl looked tempted but shook her head. ‘Not tonight. Next time.’

‘Come back anytime. You can always find me through the church.’

Sadie tucked her hair behind her ear and Jo spotted a bruise on the side of her neck. ‘I know. See ya.’

Jo wanted so much to pull the girl back and demand that she remain. She wished like hell she could do more.

By the time the meeting with the girls ended, it was past nine. Once Jo had done a final check of the room and locked the door, she hurried to her car. She fired up the engine and checked her phone, which had been on silent during the meeting.

No call from Brody.

He’d likely figured that she’d give up and let him have his way. That she’d simply absorb her anger, fear and disappointment and pretend all was fine.

She’d long ago stopped being the girl ‘that went along.’ She’d changed. Learned to take control. And now was no different. Brody would not ignore her this time.

Determined, she found Brody’s complex with her GPS and headed out. The complex was easy enough to find but at the entrance, there were rows and rows of mailboxes. She spent ten minutes searching for the name Winchester.

As she stood there a young girl came up, key in hand, and opened her mailbox. The girl, dressed in jeans and a heavy dark sweater, shrugged. ‘What’s the name? Maybe I can help you find him.’

‘Winchester. Brody.’

‘Don’t know the name.’

‘He moved in a couple of weeks ago. Wears a cowboy hat.’

‘A couple of weeks.’ She paused to think. ‘There is the tall dude in building six. Not cute. Wears a cowboy hat.’

‘That’s him.’

The girl nodded. ‘Building six is that way.’

Jo found the tension knotting in her stomach annoying. ‘Thanks.’

The girl cocked her head as she shuffled through her mail. ‘None of my business, but what did he do to piss you off?’

‘I’m not mad.’

The girl arched a brow.

Jo swallowed a rebuttal. ‘He didn’t return my calls.’

‘That would do it. Good luck.’

‘Thanks.’

Her sensible heels clicked as she hurried back to her car and slid behind the wheel. Less than a minute later she was parked in front of building six.

She shut off the car, half wishing she’d stuck to phone messages. A glance in the rearview mirror revealed a harried reflection. Her makeup had worn thin, leaving the spray of freckles over her nose exposed. Her lipstick had worn away as had her blush. ‘Good going, Jo. Toss in a couple of braids, and you are Pippi Longstocking.’

The temptation to fuss and preen nudged her fingers to the lipstick in her purse as a car parked beside her. She released the lipstick and let it fall back in her purse. Just her luck, she’d be applying makeup and Brody would knock on her window. Better to be bedraggled than to be caught fussing.

She trailed the guy who’d gotten out of his car to the building entrance. He swiped his card and she followed him inside, trying to look as if she belonged here. The man vanished into a first-floor apartment as Jo pretended to climb the stairs. When he was inside she did a quick scan of the doors. None bore the Winchester name, so she climbed to the next floor. Another glance and no Brody. But on the third floor three of the four doors had names while the last did not. It made sense he’d not advertise his name.

Taking a chance, she knocked on the door. For a moment she didn’t hear any sound or signs of life and thought the girl by the mailbox had given her an incorrect lead. She raised her fist to knock again when she heard steady steps making their way to the door seconds before it snapped open to Brody.

He wore a University of Texas T-shirt and faded jeans. Dark stubble covered his chin and fatigue had left his eyes bloodshot. He looked as if he’d just woken up.

‘God, did I wake you?’ Not two seconds into this conversation and an apology underscored her tone.

‘I was reading files.’ He stared at her, knowing damn well why she was here.

‘I know you’re going to West Livingston tomorrow.’

‘That’s right.’

‘I want to go.’

‘ No.’

The conviction behind the word took her aback. ‘What do you mean “no”? If you’re going to see Smith, I should be there.’

‘ No.’

Heat stoked her temper. ‘I certainly do not need your permission.’

‘You do need my permission. I’ve told the warden I’m coming and because I’m now handling an active investigation, I don’t want anybody interviewing my witness without me being present.’

Her fingers tightened around the shoulder strap of her purse. ‘Smith told me more in ten minutes than he told you in three years.’

He leaned on the doorjamb and slid his hands in his pockets. ‘What’s your point?’

‘My point?’ Damn him. A resident came out of his apartment, tossed an amused look at the two and then hurried down the stairs. Lowering her voice, she added, ‘I can help.’

‘Maybe. Maybe you’re giving Smith one more chance to screw with you.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Those dark circles under your eyes tell me you’ve not slept real well the last two nights.’

‘I’m a bad sleeper.’

‘That’s not how I remember it.’

Unwanted color rose in her cheeks. ‘I’ve changed.’

‘Yeah, I know. You’ve grown up. We both have. But that doesn’t change the fact that Smith can get in your head and fuck you up. He said the answer is in you, and you haven’t let it go.’

‘That’s not true.’

He leaned toward her. ‘It is. That’s what Smith does. He plants land mines in your brain, and it’s damn near impossible to let it go.’

‘How did he screw with you?’

He studied her a beat as if he’d answer, but he shook his head. ‘No thanks, Doc. I don’t need a shrink.’

‘I wasn’t – ’

‘Of course, you were. I’ve not met a shrink that can resist getting into someone’s head. He took a step back and put his hand on the door. ‘You’re not going to see Smith again, Jo. End of story.’

She opened her mouth to argue as his door shut hard in her face.

Blinking, she stood there for a moment, staring at the cheap door knocker glaring back at her. Tempted as she was to pound on the door and demand to be heard, she refused to lower herself. Brody Winchester might not want her to see Smith again, but he wasn’t the end-all, be-all. There was more than one way to skin a cat.

The digital clock read 11:59
P.M.
when Jo slid into her bed and lay back on her pillow. She reached for the light and shut it off.

Light from the full moon shone in through plantation shutters, slashing patterns across her bedroom wall.

As much as her body craved a full night’s sleep, her mind buzzed with a fuzzy energy. Too tired to work and too awake to sleep.

Look deep inside yourself.

Smith’s words rattled in her head, stoking an unease in her that had her rising and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She buried her face in her hands and took several deep breaths.

He’ll get in your head.
Brody’s words rattled like a jailer’s chain.

‘He’s not in my head. You are in my head.’ Groaning, she padded to the kitchen, where she filled a glass with water. She took a sip, peered in the glass, and then poured it out. From the refrigerator, she grabbed a half-full bottle of chardonnay and refilled the glass.