Web of Justice (16 page)

“Hank, there’s someone here who says it’s urgent he speak to you. Says his name’s Carter Wilde.”

“Be right there,” Hank said. He turned to King. “See if you can find anything else interesting, and take a few more pictures. I want to talk to Carter Wilde.”

King nodded and Hank took the stairs up, stepping outside.

Carter Wilde stood behind the yellow tape, leaning on his cane, a confused expression on his face.

“What’s going on here?” Carter asked. He waved toward the officers standing to one side. “They won’t tell me anything.” He glanced toward the street. “And what’re the Lincolns doing here? Is this something to do with my brother?”

“I’m afraid it is,” Hank said. “Your brother was holding a woman captive here. The Lincolns found her, but Izzy got away.”

Carter’s eyes bulged and his mouth gaped open. Finally, he asked, “Down there? In my building?”

Hank nodded. “How would Izzy gain access to this room?”

Carter shook his head, then narrowed his eyes and looked at Hank. “He must’ve gotten my keys. I keep them hanging by the door in my apartment.”

“Did you see him recently?” Hank asked.

Carter shook his head. “No. Not for some time.”

“Does your brother have a key to your apartment?”

“Sure, he does,” Carter said. “You don’t think …”

Hank finished the statement. “That he could’ve let himself into your apartment and taken the keys to the basement?”

Carter looked confused. “But I know the keys are there. They were there this morning.”

Hank shrugged. “He could’ve made a copy and put the original back.”

Carter nodded slowly, then drew his brows together and asked, “Is … is the girl okay?”

“She’s fine.”

Carter breathed a sigh of relief, then his face took on a worried look. “Detective, as much as it pains me to say it, you have to find my brother. I’m afraid he’s going to hurt someone else.”

“It appears he has every intention to,” Hank said. “But we’ll get him.”

King approached, nodded at Carter, and tucked his hands into his pockets. He turned to Hank. “CSI is here.”

“Okay, we’ll let them do their job.” Hank looked at Carter. “I’m afraid the basement’s off-limits for a while. At least until we get everything documented. If there’s an emergency and you need to go down there for some reason, let one of the officers know.”

Carter nodded and glanced toward the doorway to the basement. “I don’t understand why my brother would use that room for … his dirty work. I don’t go in there much, but if the air conditioner broke down, or we needed some electrical work done, someone would have to go down there.”

“I’m betting it was temporary,” King said, turning to Carter. “Do you have any idea where he might go next?”

Carter rubbed at his forehead before answering, “I can’t think of anywhere.”

Hank turned as a team dressed in overalls carried equipment past them before turning back to face Carter. “Contact me if you think of something.”

“Absolutely,” Carter said. “Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do.” He looked toward the basement, his lips in a tight line. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Detective.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Hank said, then looked at King. “Let’s get to work.”

The Lincolns had left by the time Hank and King returned to the side of the building. He’d have to contact them later to get their statements, but right now, he needed to make sure all available officers were looking for the gray Volkswagen, then he’d check on Tanya Arbuckle.

Izzy Wilde was on the run and, as far as Hank knew, had no place to hide. He prayed the fugitive was dumb enough to hold on to the Volkswagen.

Wilde was on the run, but he was unpredictable. Hank felt sure it was a matter of time before the fugitive made a fatal mistake, but unfortunately, time was of the utmost importance. Izzy Wilde was determined to carry out his mad obsession without hesitation.

Chapter 26

Thursday, 11:14 a.m.

IZZY WILDE pounded at the steering wheel and cursed a long streak.

Life was such a never-ending struggle. It seemed like doing what had to be done was never easy.

First that devil of a woman had gotten away, leading to him getting thrown in jail. He hadn’t expected such a violent response from a woman, and his face was sore where she’d attacked him, and his hand still ached where she’d bitten him like the dog she was.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, the last one had gotten away when the Lincolns interfered, and he’d almost gotten nabbed again.

And he was fed up with it.

He cursed again and spun the steering wheel into the Hillcrest Mall parking lot, then drove to the rear of the lot and backed into an empty spot near a rusty chain-link fence. He wouldn’t be seen here in the employee parking area.

He didn’t want to chance buying another car—at least not until he figured out how he could do it undetected—so he planned to do the next best thing.

He assumed Jake Lincoln had seen the plates on this vehicle; the big guy had been close enough. There must be a lot of gray Volkswagens in the city, and the police would stop them all, but he wasn’t planning on keeping it much longer.

But it would do for now.

At first, he’d planned to lie low until nightfall, but he was desperate to satisfy the craving he felt deep inside. His mother had done a wicked thing, and he had to erase the memory from his mind once more.

And there was only one way.

But he had an immediate problem. Finding the next wicked dark-brown-eyed woman was a snap. They were all over the place. The problem was where to take her. He’d had two perfect spots, but they were overrun by cops now. He yearned to go back to the old house where he’d grown up. That was home. But they would no doubt be looking for him there, and he didn’t dare.

His soul was hungry and yearned for sustenance, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

He got back into his car and sat still a moment, contemplating a plan, then started his vehicle and pulled out.

He drove closer to the main doors. The mall was always busy, and there were no parking spots available. Perfect. That was what he wanted.

He pulled up to the curb, where he had a clear view of the entrance. He searched under the passenger seat, found a small pair of binoculars, and focused them on the doors.

People came and went. Men, women, old, young, couples, kids, and his craving grew.

Finally, he lowered the glasses, licked his lips, and a smile spread across his face.

There she was.

An evil black-haired, dark-brown-eyed shrew. His eyes narrowed and his breath quickened as she walked past, casually swinging a shopping bag, paying him no mind. She walked across the lot, heading down between the rows of vehicles. He started the engine and followed.

She turned her head and glanced at his vehicle as he pulled alongside her and stopped.

Izzy wound down his window. “I’m looking for a parking spot,” he said, smiling now. “Where ya parked?”

“Up there,” she said, pointing to a red BMW sedan a few cars away.

Izzy pulled his vehicle just short of where she’d indicated and stopped. He sat motionless with his hand on the door handle, his anticipation growing, his hunger building, as she opened the back door, set her purchases inside, then opened the front door.

He had to time this right.

The moment she climbed inside her car and closed the door, he sprang from his vehicle.

She had her head down, no doubt looking for her keys, and she didn’t see him as he hurried to the passenger-side door of her car and yanked the door open.

Her head spun toward him, her mouth dropping open. He climbed in and slammed the door, then turned to her, a warm smile on his face.

Her keys fell from her hand and rattled to the floor. She reached for the door handle.

He spoke sharply. “Don’t.”

She hesitated, her hand on the handle, her dark brown eyes growing wider as he lifted his shirt, removed the pistol, and pointed it her way.

“You’ll be safer if you do what you’re told,” he said. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

She raised her eyes to his. “What … what do you want?”

“Not what you think.” He grabbed her handbag and tossed it into the backseat, then motioned toward the floor. “Get the keys. Start the car.”

She swallowed hard, scarcely breathing, then turned her eyes away and reached to the floor, picking up the keys. Her hand shook as she selected a key from the ring and inserted it.

“Start the car,” he said. “We’re going for a ride.”

She looked at him and spoke, her voice hoarse as she forced out the words. “Where … are we going?”

Izzy raised the pistol. “Turn your eyes away. Don’t look at me again. Ever. You understand?”

She turned her head away and nodded, then dropped her hands to her lap and stared blankly through the windshield.

She flinched when he spoke again. “Start the car.”

She started the engine, then laid her head back, her hands on the steering wheel, and closed her eyes.

“Take a deep breath,” he said in a soothing voice. “Don’t be afraid. Just drive.”

She nodded and inhaled a long breath, then opened her eyes and eased from the spot. “Which … which way?”

He pointed.

And she drove.

He watched her as they turned onto Main Street and turned left. They were always afraid. A proper reaction, to be sure. Once they’d been caught in their evil ways and knew they had to pay, the reaction was always the same. Fear. Never remorse.

Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders as her wicked eyes watched the road in front of her. Undoubtedly, her heart was as dark, abominable, and unrepentant as the others’ hearts had been. They always were.

“What’s your name?” he said, not that he cared.

“Hannah,” she whispered. “Hannah Quinn.”

“Keep driving, Hannah.”

A few minutes later, he pointed ahead. “Turn there.”

She slowed the vehicle and pulled to the right, then her voice trembled as she spoke. “It … it’s a graveyard.”

“It’s all right,” he said with a long-suffering sigh. “I gotta visit somebody.”

Hannah glanced in the rearview mirror, then pulled into the lane.

“Drive straight in,” he said. “Go to the back of the lot.”

She clung to the wheel and drove down the narrow lane. Gleaming tombstones protruded from the ground to their left and to their right. Fresh flowers, blooming plants, and an impeccable lawn decorated the ground above the death and decay below.

She shuddered and swallowed, her eyes straight ahead, driving deeper and deeper into the place of the dead. The pavement ended, turning into a dirt path.

His eyes roved over the well-kept grounds. No one was here. This was a place seldom visited, and it was a perfect spot for what he must do.

He motioned with the pistol. “Pull over there, Hannah.”

Hannah turned the steering wheel to the left and stopped the vehicle underneath a towering oak, then sat back and let out a long, quivering breath. She glanced at him, then turned her eyes away, dropped her head, wove her fingers together in her lap, and remained quiet.

Izzy stepped from the vehicle, rounded the car, and opened the driver-side door. “Get out.”

She spoke without looking up. “Can I wait here for you?”

He raised his voice and grabbed her arm. “No. Now, get out.”

She climbed from the vehicle and glanced around as though considering making a run for it.

He tightened his grip on her arm. “Lie down.”

Her eyes bulged. She drew a sharp breath and attempted to take a step back.

Izzy put his left leg behind her ankle, his hand around her throat, and pushed her. She fell to the ground and landed on her back, then brought her hands up as if to protect herself as he knelt beside her.

She sobbed, whimpered, and whined like a wounded animal. Tears burst from her dark brown eyes as she glared into his.

He removed his hunting knife from a sheath at his side and held it in front of her frightened eyes, clenching his teeth. “Don’t look at me.”

Hannah closed her eyes and her body shook uncontrollably.

He touched the tip of his knife to her cheek and considered taking her eyes out, just for looking at him. He changed his mind. That wasn’t what he’d come here to do, and time was wasting.

Izzy’s mother lay whimpering on the soft bed of grass as he knelt beside her, the razor-sharp knife cropping her black hair a lock at a time, until finally, she would seduce an unwitting man no longer.

Soon she’d be dead, and her wicked ways would die with her.

Chapter 27

Thursday, 12:16 p.m.

ANNIE SAT AT THE desk in the office of Lincoln Investigations, an open file folder in front of her, twirling a pen in her hand. She was relieved Tanya Arbuckle had been rescued, but the unsettling situation showed Izzy Wilde was determined to continue his killing spree.

They’d twice tracked him down, and twice been foiled in their attempt to deliver him to justice.

She dropped her pen onto the desk, sat back, and looked at Jake. He was lounging back in the guest chair, a deep frown on his face, glaring at a photo of Izzy Wilde.

“We have to anticipate his next move,” Annie said. “He’s running out of hiding places, and he doesn’t dare use the same vehicle.”

Jake tossed the picture onto the desk and shrugged. “I’m fresh out of ideas. It’s unlikely he’ll go near his brother again, and his house is off-limits.”

“I believe he intended to use the apartment basement as his new trophy case. He seems determined to keep a lock of his victim’s hair on display. If he continues, then he needs a base of operations, so to speak.”

“There’re lots of abandoned buildings in the city,” Jake said.

“But he’ll want someplace private.”

Jake nodded and blew out a long breath. “And we need to figure out where.”

Annie leaned forward and cupped her chin in her hand, staring at the picture of Izzy Wilde. He wasn’t an unattractive man. He was rather handsome, actually. But not in a rugged way. His face was a little soft perhaps, but he had a cocky look about him without appearing threatening. Annie understood how he could approach his victims without arousing alarm. He looked harmless.