The Killing Game (44 page)

“Everything’s in place, except you talked to Detective Rafferty. You and Denton. And she’s sniffing around what happened to that suck-up junkie, Lance Patten, and probably Wendy, too.

“You don’t know about them. Wendy was my first real kill.” He glanced away to the middle distance, remembering, she guessed by the satisfied grin that curved his lips. “My old man had insisted I go to that goddamned summer camp. North Lake Junior Camp. I was determined to buy that piece of property even though Greg thought it was too much money, but I won that battle. Can’t wait to tear down every board. Dad had some stupid notion it would be good for me to go there. I had no choice back then but to play along, so I decided I’d play by my own rules. I snuck out every night by canoe.” He sighed through his nose. “Wendy was white trash. Pretty. Nice body, but white trash. I would take her out, fuck her beneath one of the willows, then sneak her back to her pathetic family on Aurora Lane. Wendy was hot for me. Too hot, as it turned out. She had the gall to keep showing up at the most inopportune times. She had no damned filter and no sense. I made her pretend we didn’t know each other, but she didn’t like it one bit. Had big romantic dreams. Fantasies. Thought I could be her white knight and save her from the poverty of her life.”

He stared at Andi and made a face to show how ridiculous Wendy’s romantic notions were.

“I had to kill her. The last time she walked across the fields to the lake, I met her at one of the other cabins that was empty that weekend. While we were doing it, really going at it, I wrapped the willow branch around her neck and just kept tightening it. Best climax I ever had. Her face all mottled and red, her hands scratching wildly at me. After that, I never looked back. But Lance ... he wanted what I wanted, except he didn’t have the imagination. He got hooked up with a cougar on Aurora Lane, a really feisty older woman, but she wouldn’t look at him after one night with me. Lance and I shared her for a while, but she wasn’t good at keeping secrets. Couldn’t keep her trap shut. I got lucky on that one, though. Somebody else took care of her, so all the talk about me and Lance dried up.”

Andi couldn’t believe the depth of his depravity. She swallowed hard and worked the ties, making slow headway. She had to keep him talking because as soon as he stopped talking about the past, he would get to the present.

And to her.

“Then Lance started getting cold feet. He knew about Wendy. He’d suspected I’d killed her and kept asking about her. Finally I told him the truth. He just stared at me, and then he tried to run away. I grabbed him and held him under. And then I buried him on the abandoned cabin next to my parents’.

“Except . . . the cabin wasn’t abandoned forever. I knew I had to put him somewhere permanently. He’d told me about finding bones in this family’s basement on Aurora Lane, some family with the hot cougar. Swore they were human. I didn’t care if they were or not. I decided to add Lance to the pile. I dug him up and carried what was left of him to their house. Broke open a basement window and tossed him in. Like I said, the game always has surprises.”

He suddenly grabbed her by the chin. “So now, Andi, I have another game. One more in my repertoire, and this time guess who gets to play?”

She didn’t have to.

“That’s right. Finally it’s your turn.”

She glanced at the clock. Nearly two hours had passed. Certainly someone would be looking for her.

He reached into his pocket again and withdrew his knife. Andi couldn’t help herself. She shrank back as he looked at the blade catching light from the fluorescent bulbs. Slowly he slid the blade down the length of her cheek.

“What to play a game, little girl?” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and wet. “Want to know how you’re going to die?”

Her heart thumped hard and painful.

“I brought you to the lake for a reason. A purpose. Like the others, you’ll die in water. Like Belinda and Christine and Wendy and Lance. Although I pride myself on changing my modus operandi, keeping everyone guessing, I prefer the water.”

Andi tried and failed to swallow back her fear. He was serious. He was going to kill her. Soon. Here. In the lake.

He let the blade travel lower, along her neck, past her carotid, sliding between her breasts. “It’s no fun if you can’t play, too. So if you can figure out how to escape, maybe you won’t die tonight, you’ll gain your freedom,” he said hoarsely. She could tell he was turning himself on. “But . . . I wouldn’t bet on it.” He looked up at her, his tongue showing between his teeth. “Then you’re mine.”

Egomaniacal psycho!

She set her jaw and pulled at her wrists as his face followed the path of his knife, steamy breath blowing on her breasts and abdomen and crotch. The blade lingered at the juncture of her legs, and then, when she thought she might cry out, he moved quickly, slicing downward, cutting through her shackles.

An instant later he made short work of her manacles as well, and then, to her surprise, he pulled the duct tape from her mouth, ripping some skin, leaving some glue.

She grunted with pain, then shot to her feet. She whirled and kicked him hard but missed his crotch, her blow landing on his thigh.

“Bitch!” He hadn’t expected her to be ready.

She lunged for the gun, but he was quick, beat her to it. Whirling, she threw herself at the door. If she could just get outside, into the darkness, she might be able to run, to get away. Her reflexes were sluggish, but her muscles were working again, her brain on fire.

One step. Two. The space between the fake bookshelf and wall, the opening was just a leap away. She sprang.

“Wrong move,” he singsonged. Strong arms wrapped around her waist and dragged her down.

She fought, kicking and scratching, raining blow after blow upon him, but he was too strong, so much bigger, and when she smelled the malodorous stench again on the rag he was bringing toward her, she realized she was doomed.

“Ether,” he crowed, smashing the rag over her face. “Old school.”

She struggled wildly, but the chemical overtook her. The last thing she remembered was him hauling her off her feet and carrying her outside to his car, the one he’d bought for cash.

* * *

Luke passed a car coming from the direction of Carter’s cabin. He watched its taillights in his rearview mirror, the red lights disappearing in the deep night. Had that been Andi in the passenger seat? The driver had been looking down as he passed, almost as if he’d been trying to hide his face.

Was it Carter?
Was it?
God! He was pretty sure it was.

He turned around and followed, trying to keep back far enough to stay off his radar. They were on a trajectory toward the lodge. Luke decided to stay well back and park away from the construction site so he wouldn’t be seen.

Ten minutes later he was there. He killed the engine, then jogged toward the lodge, but there was no other vehicle there.

Where had he gone?

He heard the faint sound of an engine to the east and turned in that direction.

The summer camp.

Immediately he was racing back to his truck. He switched on the engine and the damn thing coughed and acted like it wasn’t going to catch, but then it did. Breathing a sigh of relief, he sped down the two-lane road to the entrance to the summer camp, damn near missing it . . . except for the flattened grass he caught in his headlights.

He bumped along the rutted lane. He didn’t care if Carter knew he was coming.

His headlights trapped another car in their beams, parked to one side not far from the water’s edge. Broken pieces of wood from the ruined cabins lay scattered about, along with a row of forgotten canoes. Where one had been the ground was dry, even though a misting rain had started.

Luke leaped out of the car, leaving his keys in the ignition. The parked Ford was the one he’d passed on the road. It was Carter’s. And Andi was with him.

He dragged out one of the canoes. In the headlights from his car he saw it had holes in the bottom. He anxiously reached for another. The second one looked good and he hurriedly pulled it out. He switched off the lights to the truck, then hauled it down to the water’s edge. He faintly heard the oars of a canoe dipping hurriedly in the water.

Carter was on the water and he knew Luke was coming.

“You son of a bitch,” he growled beneath his breath.

Then he was in the canoe, rowing for all he was worth.

PART IV

CHECKMATE

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The rhythmic, rapid slap of a paddle in the water sent rage running through Carter’s veins. He’d seen the headlights. Denton.

“Goddamn it.” He’d known that was Denton’s truck on the road. “Fuck!”

There was no time. He couldn’t have Andi the way he wanted her. The game wouldn’t be what he wanted.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way!

There was nothing he could do to save the moment. He looked down at the unconscious woman and gritted his teeth.

Then he leaned over her and rimmed her lips with his tongue. “Good-bye, lovely bird. . . .”

He pulled her up by the shoulders and he struggled a bit, but then she toppled into the dark water.

* * *

Luke heard the heavy splash into the water.

Andi!

He threw himself into paddling. He couldn’t see through the dark and the rain, but he knew it was Carter . . . and he knew Carter had thrown Andi into the water.

If he’s hurt her . . . if she’s . . .

He clamped his mind shut and ground his teeth together. He could hear the other canoe paddling furiously away, but he was focused on the spot he’d seen her go under.

Oh Andi . . . please, please . . .

Ripples were reaching him. Ten feet from where he believed Carter had tossed her out, he dove into the water, down and forward. Eyes open, he could see nothing in the black water.

He breaststroked forward underwater.

Andi . . . Andi . . . Andi . . .

His hand touched something.

Hair.

He surged forward and grabbed her by the hair, pulling upward. He surfaced and pulled up with all his strength, snagging part of her collar, then her arm, yanking her head above the surface. How long had it been? A minute? Two?
Three?

He gasped for air, wrapping his arms around her chest, holding her face upward. She wasn’t breathing. Treading water, he squeezed his arm hard around her and released, did it again. God. Where was the canoe?

He whipped his head around. It was there. Ten feet away but drifting away from him.

He swam with one arm toward the canoe. It felt like forever but was probably only seconds. It took all his strength to drag her upward, tumble her inside. When he tried to scramble inside himself the canoe tipped precariously. He threw himself in, smacked his lip and rammed his funny bone, his knee hitting the blade of the other oar, which popped up enough to ram the fingers on his left hand, but he scarcely noticed.

Andi was crumpled on her side and he turned her on her back. Immediately he began CPR, pressing her chest rhythmically, praying hard inside his mind.

“Andi ... Andi ...” He didn’t realize he was saying her name.

His thoughts touched on Carter, but he yanked them back to the present. He would find the man and kill him if he had to. He didn’t give a damn. If Andi didn’t make it ...

His mind shut down.

The rain pummeled him. He realized distantly that he was cold, that she was cold, too. He had to get them out of there ... had to get to shore ...

Her chest buckled. A harsh cough. A flood of water out of her mouth.

Luke quickly lifted her shoulder, turning her onto her side, joy singing through him.

“Andi! Andi ...”

She coughed and gasped. He leaned over her, blocking the rain. She blinked her eyes and they opened dully. Her lower jaw started quivering.

“Andi, it’s Luke. You went in the lake. We’re in a canoe. Gotta get back to shore.”

“Luke ... ?”

“Yes, darling, it’s me.” He felt the burn of emotion.

“Luke, Carter ...”

“He’s gone. We’re getting back to shore now.” He stripped off his soaking jacket and lay it over her. Better another layer, even it if was a wet one.

He pulled out the oar and started paddling, seeing Andi’s white face in the bottom of the canoe.

“Jesus,” he muttered through his own chattering teeth.

By the time the canoe bumped the shore he was shaking all over. His mind was filled with black fury.

“We’ve got to get to my truck,” he whispered in Andi’s ear.

“Yes ...”

She leaned upward, and somehow they wrangled out of the canoe. Luke half-carried her to the truck, where the keys were still in the ignition, his cell phone in the cup holder where he’d left it.

Carter had been heading north, in the direction of the Wren construction site.

He picked up the phone to call Detective Rafferty.

* * *

Fucking Denton
, Carter fumed inwardly, dragging the canoe up the bank in the rain. He knew it was that fucking investigator following him onto the lake. Luckily, he’d dumped Andi and gotten away. Did Denton know it was him? How could he . . . except that Andi had talked to Detective Rafferty and he was probably there at the time, so Denton would know he was supposed to meet her and had blown her off.

He needed to meet with the goddamn detective. He should call her . . . say he went to the hospital. Explain how urgent it was to see Emma.

But now he couldn’t go back to the summer camp just yet, even though his car was there. Denton had launched a canoe from the same area. He had to find a way to get back there without being seen, but he didn’t trust the water, so that meant thrashing through the brush, which would take forever, or following the road, which was what he planned to do. There would be traffic, but he could stay just off the pavement and duck down whenever a car went by. There was more than enough cover for him to make it without being seen.