Hostage Negotiation (13 page)

When she finally wiped the tears from her cheeks and opened her over-bright eyes, she straightened her shoulders, as if bracing herself for more bad news.

“Go on,” she said. “I know there’s more, or you’d have taken me to the sheriff’s office to tell me about Sue Ellen. Please. Just get it over with, rip off the bandage all at once. I can’t take wondering anymore. I need to know what’s going on.”

“It’s about your friend, Sandy Gonzalez. She’s—”

“Is she okay? What’s happened to her? Tell me.”

“She’s fine, more or less. Kaylee, Sandy has been arrested. She’s a part of all of this.”

She let out a snort of laughter then sobered. “What are you saying? That doesn’t make any sense.”

He rested his right arm across the seat back. “Remember this morning, that Cole had discovered that she owned the agencies used by you, Mary and Sue Ellen? It seemed like an odd coincidence. And then you talked about how the bad press had devastated your friend, that it ruined business, that it didn’t make sense that she’d be involved in any way in the abductions because she had no motive, nothing to gain. Everything to lose. Well that got Cole thinking, so he had his team dig even deeper into the financials. Sure enough, just last week Sandy filed an insurance claim on behalf of her Miami company—Aventuras Travel Agency.”

“Insurance? Like to help cover losses if something bad happened to one of her clients?”

“Yes and no. That kind of policy is typical, and normally pays out only if the client sues, which you haven’t done. This was a special kind of policy. Instead of insuring against losses resulting from a lawsuit, this one insures against the loss of what’s called ‘goodwill,’ basically the reputation of the company. A monetary value is placed on that reputation, the company’s brand. And if the policy holder can prove the brand has been significantly damaged—as it was when the bad press was printed about your abduction—the policy pays out. And not just a little bit. The value of that policy on Aventuras is a cool one million dollars.”

Kaylee’s mouth fell open in shock, then she shook her head. “Wait. Hold it. That still doesn’t mean she had anything to do with my abduction. What’s the connection? What are you saying?”

“She had goodwill policies on all three agencies, Kaylee. She stands to collect three million dollars, all because each one of her agencies had one of their clients abducted while on a trip the agencies arranged. Now, tell me. Do you believe in coincidences to that degree? And don’t forget that she hid the fact that she owned all three companies. It makes sense that she would have created those shell companies for this very purpose, to hide her connection so no one would put two and two together. She even purchased the policies from three different insurance companies. She did everything she could to hide the connections, hoping no one would ever think to look.”

Kaylee shook her head vigorously, but she’d gone pale. She might be in denial, but the truth was sinking in whether she wanted it to or not. “Wait. Okay, I agree it sounds crazy. But how does it play out? She looks up serial killers on the internet somewhere and hires one of them to take out three of her clients? Come on, Zack. That’s ridiculous. There has to be another explanation.”

“Oh, there is. His name is Hutch Mulcahy. He’s Sandy’s ex-husband, who’s also an ex-con. He’s been in prison for ten years and got out about six months ago, which is right around the time that Sandy created those shell companies and purchased her ‘goodwill’ insurance. Sandy and Hutch made plans to destroy the reputation of her three companies so they could collect on the insurance. And as soon as they collected, they were going to skip the country and live happily ever after.”

Kaylee pressed her hands against her temples and shook her head. “No, no, that can’t be. I’ve known Sandy for years. And I never heard about an ex-husband.”

He shrugged. “I’m sure she wasn’t going to brag about having been married to a man who went to prison for rape.”

She slowly lowered her hands. “Rape?”

“Among other things, yes.” At her crestfallen look, he said, “Kaylee, I’m so sorry that you have to hear it like this. I wanted to break it to you at the hotel, talk it through. But you wanted to know right now what was going on. I just wish there was something I could have done to soften the blow. Sandy Gonzalez is behind your abduction and the abductions and murders of Mary and Sue Ellen. She colluded with her ex-husband to have something bad happen to each of you so they could collect their millions and run off.”

Tears were falling faster and unchecked now. Her lower lip trembled. “But she’s a woman, and a friend. I can’t believe she would wish what happened to me, to those other women, on any of us. I just can’t see it.”

“Some of the details are still fuzzy,” he allowed. “She’s admitted to the collusion to cash in on her goodwill policy, and that her ex-con ex-husband was supposed to help with that. But you’re right, she swears she would never agree to what happened to any of you. She’s placing all of the blame squarely on her ex, saying he was supposed to do something much more mild, like hold you up at gunpoint, slash your rental car’s tires, that sort of thing. She claims she had no idea he was this evil, that he’d go this far.”

She was holding it together by a thread. He could see that in how alarmingly pale she looked, how wild her eyes were and how violently she trembled. But she still wasn’t giving in to her turmoil. Perhaps it was the past month spent wondering why she’d been targeted that had her pushing through the pain, continuing to insist on answers now.

“Hutch Mulcahy?” she whispered. “That’s his name? The man who...the man who...hurt me? Who killed those women? And kidnapped Jasper?”

“We believe so, yes. He matches the description you gave—height, weight, Caucasian. Cole’s looking into whether there’s a recording of his voice on file with the Department of Corrections so you can listen to it, see if it sounds familiar. And there’s a BOLO out on him.”

“BOLO?”

“Cop speak. Means be on the lookout. Kind of like an Amber Alert except it’s only sent to law enforcement, not the public. Every officer in the state will be shown his picture so they can keep an eye out for him. And Cole’s men will figure out every step the man’s taken since he got out of prison. Don’t worry. They’ll get him.”

She nodded but didn’t look convinced. He supposed it made sense that she’d still be frightened, worried. Until Mulcahy was behind bars, she’d see him in every shadow, hear him in every footstep behind her, never be able to relax or feel safe.

“It’ll all work out,” he tried to reassure her. “Cole’s men will find Jasper, and they’ll find Mulcahy. And you’ll never have to worry about him again.” When she didn’t say anything, just stared out the windshield as if lost in thought, he started up the engine. “Come on. We’ll go get a suite at some fancy hotel downtown and get cleaned up. I’ll even let you pay for the room if that will make you happy.”

That finally made her smile, even if it was only a half-smile. “In that case, let’s go to the Ritz-Carlton. I want to soak in a deep tub full of bubbles and high-powered jets to soothe my aching muscles. I’m not used to all the walking, not to mention jogging, that we did today.”

Her smile faded and he knew she was thinking about Sue Ellen and the missing FFW officer. Since there was nothing else he could say that would ease those hurts, he backed out of the parking space to head back to the highway.

A horn blared. Tires screeched. Zack jerked his head around just in time to see a white panel van barrel into the side of his pickup, just missing his door. Kaylee screamed as glass shattered from both vehicles and tinkled all over the pavement. The front hood had crumpled up at a crazy angle and bright green radiator fluid shot up like a geyser.

He checked Kaylee. “You okay?”

She was shaking, pale, but nodded. “I’m... I’m okay. You?”

“Fine.” He frowned, staring through the hole where the windshield used to be. “But my truck’s not.”

A muffled moan carried to them from the other vehicle. Because of the angle, he couldn’t see the person or people in the van. But that moan didn’t sound good.

“Stay here. I’ll check on the other driver.”

He tried to open his door but it resisted his efforts. He gritted his teeth in disgust and shoved the door, hard. It finally opened with a sickening metallic screech. After hopping down, he rounded the back of the van.

A loud crack, something zipping through the air, and then burning, agonizing pain. Zack fell to the asphalt, convulsing, white-hot agony ripping through every nerve, his teeth grinding so hard they seemed in danger of breaking. And then suddenly, the pain stopped, leaving him sweating and panting on the ground. He blinked as his still pain-fogged mind registered what had happened—he’d been Tased. This wasn’t an accident. It was a trap. Kaylee! He had to protect Kaylee.

He shoved himself up off the ground, staggered, caught himself against the back of the van. Twin darts with thin wires attached protruded from his thigh. He grabbed for one of them just as the loud crack of electricity sizzled in the air again. Immediately, he fell to the ground again, his fingers curling like talons as the blazing pain shredded his nerves, making him helpless, worthless, as someone leaned past him and opened the van doors. His attacker tossed something in the back that landed with a loud thump. Kaylee. And she hadn’t been moving.

Fighting against the blistering pain, Zack desperately tried to grab his gun, but his whole body was convulsing and he couldn’t manage it. The man who’d taken Kaylee leaned over him. Zack vaguely registered the dark mask over the man’s face before he plunged a needle into Zack’s neck. The electricity running through his body abruptly stopped and he lay there once again, breathing hard, his body wrung out and exhausted as if he’d been running a marathon. He grabbed the darts, yanking them out and tossing them away. He shoved himself up into a crouch, ready to launch himself at the man who’d jumped back several feet.

A wave of dizziness had him falling to the ground. He shook his head, desperately trying to focus and fight off whatever the masked man had drugged him with. But in spite of his feverish efforts, the relentless darkness won. As he surrendered to unconsciousness, a last thought flitted through his mind.

The devil had them.

Chapter Fourteen

A groan sounded nearby. Zack frowned, then his face heated as he realized that he was the one who’d made that pathetic sound. Every inch of his body hurt, as if it were one big bruise. His mind was a confusing fog of impressions. Everything seemed disconnected, fuzzy, and he couldn’t focus his thoughts. His mouth was dry, his stomach roiling with nausea. Drugged. The way he felt, he’d definitely been drugged.

A mask, with holes for eyes, a wide slit for the mouth. A man, carrying Kaylee, dumping her inside...what? The trunk of a car? No. That wasn’t right. Crunching metal, shattering glass, a zapping, buzzing sound. Pain. Unbearable, scorching pain. His left thigh ached, burned. He rubbed his arm across his jeans, felt the holes in the cloth.

Everything snapped together in his mind. The van, slamming into his truck. Him, rounding the back. Wires shooting toward him, electricity sizzling through his nerves. A man, dressed all in black, leather mask concealing his features. And Kaylee, unconscious...or worse...tossed like a rag doll into the back of the van.

His eyes flew open, but he saw nothing but darkness—complete, absolute darkness. Could it be nighttime already? Or was he in the trunk of a car, or lying on the floor of the cargo van? Kaylee. Where was she? He had to find her, help her.

He tried to sit up but his head banged against something directly above him. He cursed and fell back, throwing his hands out, surprised to find something hard and flat blocking him. He jerked his legs, same thing, blocked by walls all around. Beneath him, beside him, above him. Like a...coffin. Confusion was swept away and he realized with agonizing certainty exactly what had happened. He was inside one of those boxes that Kaylee had described, probably just below the ground.

The devil had him.

The hell with that.
He had to get out of here, find Kaylee. He shoved against the smooth lid of the box, his muscles straining. A creak. Did something give? If this was one of the same Plexiglas boxes the killer had been using all along, maybe the seals were beginning to weaken from age and the elements. If Zack could just get the right leverage, maybe he could use the metal stem of his belt buckle to jam into the seam, score it, so he could break the lid off the box.

He drew a deep breath, grimacing at the hot, musty quality of the air, and then strained against the lid again. He tried lifting his knees against it, too, but the box was too small; he couldn’t lift his legs enough to get leverage. Instead, he continued to push his forearms against the lid, his arms shaking from the prolonged effort. Another creak.

The darkness suddenly gave way to light. Zack squinted against the sun as it poured down through overhead branches. But he didn’t see anyone above him, just the Plexiglas top of the box and trees. He was buried in the ground, just below the surface. Spindly moss-covered oaks formed the canopy above, along with the twisted branches of cypress trees. The cypress, that musty smell...he was in the Everglades. Which meant Kaylee must be here, too, thrust back into her worst nightmare. Was she in another box? Was their captor nearby? He must be, to have removed whatever had covered the top of Zack’s box.

A footstep, another, then the sun was blocked out again, this time by the silhouette of a man bending over him. Zack blinked as his eyes refocused without the sun in them. The man was wearing a leather mask, the same one from back at the van. It covered his head so that Zack couldn’t see the man’s hair or any part of his face except his mouth, and a small patch of skin visible just above where the mask tied at his throat. Caucasian—he was white, like Kaylee’s attacker. And large, about Zack’s size. He wore a black T-shirt, black pants, gloves.

“Trying to memorize me in case you ever get me into a lineup?” the man’s voice rasped above him.

“Where’s Kaylee?” Zack demanded, still searching for details, anything that he could use to identify the man. Was that a mole on his throat, barely visible above the leather tie that secured the mask? Yes. But there was nothing else distinctive in that small patch of skin.

“Worried about your girlfriend?” Laughter wheezed above him. “Don’t worry. I’m going to give her some very special attention.” He stroked the top of the box like a lover, his hands smoothing over the thick plastic, his fingers poking at the holes that allowed air inside. Then his smile faded and he leaned down within a few inches of the box, his dark eyes flashing with anger. “You and your nonstop persistence have ruined my fun. I’m going to have to find a new playground.” His lips curved again. “But not before one last hurrah.”

He rolled away from the opening, leaving the sunlight blinding Zack again. Zack raised a hand to shade his eyes then pounded against the top of the box. “Come back here,” he yelled. “Face me like a man instead of slinking away like a coward.”

Footsteps sounded, going away this time, followed by laughter.

“Come back. Do you hear me, you animal?” Zack slammed his forearm against the lid.

Sounds, from close by. Someone scrabbling in the dirt?

“Well, hello there, dear,” the masked man’s voice taunted, but Zack couldn’t see him. “It’s been far too long, my little escape artist.” His voice turned menacing at that last part, and angry.

Another scrabbling sound, a click and then a terrified scream.

Kaylee.

* * *

K
AYLEE
BIT
HER
lip to keep from crying out again. Her shoulder throbbed from the devil grabbing her by one arm and yanking her up out of the box. That was when she’d screamed, and now her left arm hung at an awkward angle at her side, useless—dislocated probably. Every time her arm moved, pain radiated outward like a knife cutting into her. She tried to hold it tight against her body but there was no way to keep it completely immobile, not with the devil tugging her other arm, forcing her to stumble through the woods after him.

She glanced back once, looking for Zack, hoping, praying he was still alive. But she didn’t see him anywhere, hadn’t seen him since the devil had staged that car accident and ripped her door open, plunging a needle deep into her neck.

“Hurry up,” he ordered, his voice raspy as he yanked her good arm.

Pain lanced through her shoulder. She bit down harder and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. In all of her nightmares at home, she’d always remembered what had already happened, thinking nothing could be that bad again. But she’d never, not once, considered that she’d ever be back in this man’s clutches. She’d never seen a future where this could happen.

A whimper escaped between her clenched teeth before she could stop it.

The devil glanced back, his mouth tilting into a cruel smile. And beyond him, she could see a scarred, twisted tree much like the ones from before, at the other
camps
where he’d held her, and chained her and...hurt her.

He was going to do it again, hurt her, beat her...cut her.

No!

She couldn’t do this, not again. She’d rather die than let him hurt her, humiliate her, brutalize her and reduce her to the level of an abused animal, whimpering, crying, curling into herself and giving him the satisfaction of breaking her. No one had the right to hurt her like that. One way or another, this was going to end now. No matter what.

She picked her feet up and fell to the ground. The unexpected movement sent a sharp, agonizing pain shooting through her shoulder. But it also knocked her captor off balance, tearing her hand free from his grasp and making him stumble and fall against a tree.

Grabbing her bad arm with her good, Kaylee launched herself to her feet and took off running.

* * *

W
HACK
,
WHACK
,
WHACK
!
Zack pounded the pin of his belt buckle against the seam where the two corners of the Plexiglas box met near his head. He’d been urged on by the scream that he’d heard a few minutes ago and the answering maniacal laughter coming from the man who’d abducted Kaylee and him. And then, just a few minutes after that, a guttural shout of rage followed by the sound of someone running,
two
people running, their feet pounding against the ground, heading away from him. That could only mean one thing. Kaylee had gotten away, and her abductor was chasing her.

Which meant Zack needed to get out of this box,
now
, before Kaylee’s pursuer caught her. There was no way she could outrun him, not if she was barefoot, like Zack, an old trick their abductor had obviously used again to ensure that it would be difficult for them to run if they did manage to escape. Plus, that man was just as tall as Zack. His stride was much longer than Kaylee’s. In a flat-out race, she didn’t stand a chance.

Hide, Kaylee. Find a place to burrow down until he runs past you. Don’t try to outrun him. Outthink him.

Crack.
The glue holding the corner split about six inches down. He could see daylight and dirt from between the two pieces. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. He pushed and strained every muscle of his body against the sides of the box and continued to pound the belt buckle against the corner seam.

* * *

Q
UIET
. D
ON
’
T
MAKE
a sound, Kaylee. Breathe in, out, in, out, through your mouth. Quiet. Don’t make a sound.

Kaylee’s whole body shook as she huddled inside the hollowed-out, rotten tree trunk. She’d done it. Somehow, she’d managed to evade her captor. He’d run right past her after she’d ducked into this spot, tucking herself in, her knees against her chest, her hurt arm contorted and sending sharp bursts of pain through her entire body. The only pain she could remember worse than this was when the devil had cut her. So she’d just have to somehow endure, without screaming or giving voice to her agony that would give away her hiding place. Her bottom lip was practically shredded from clamping her teeth down so much to keep from crying out.

Click.

She blinked, staring out into the heavily shadowed woods around her. What was that? She held so still that her lungs started to burn, reminding her she had to take a breath. She drew air in as quietly as possible, listening intently, searching for signs of movement.

Thump, thump.

Oh, God. Was that...was that a footstep? There, twenty feet away, a shadow moved. She looked left, the bushes were too thick. Right, she’d have to go to the right. She gritted her teeth and hauled herself up from her hiding place, all the while keeping an eye on those shadows. A dark form scurried out. She let out a squeak of alarm and then realized it was just a raccoon. Footsteps sounded not far away, pounding on the ground. No, no, no. He must have heard her. He was coming back.

She threw herself to the right and took off again.

Laughter floated to her on the warm breeze.

“I...seeeeeee...yoooooou,” he taunted in a singsong voice.

“Leave me alone, you sick pervert,” she yelled back, without turning.
Faster, faster. Run!

His roar of rage told her he didn’t appreciate her insult. A smile curved her lips for the briefest moment. But just as quickly, as his footsteps pounded closer, she cursed herself for being so stupid. Taking potshots at him and making him angry only gave her satisfaction that lasted a few seconds. What he might do to her in retaliation, on the other hand, would last far longer and would, without a doubt, be excruciatingly painful.

If she even survived.

The pseudo-path she was following abruptly ended at a thick ring of trees too close together for her to pass. She whirled around, a whimper escaping as her shoulder protested the quick movement.

The devil was there, no more than ten feet in front of her. He stopped and straightened from his crouch, his cruel lips curving in delight beneath the mask, above where it tied at his throat.

“What do you want from me?” she demanded, as she inched toward her left, and the break in the trees she could sense more than see.

In answer, he slowly pulled a knife from the top of his boot, its serrated edges winking in what little fading sunlight filtered in through the branches above. He held it up, his mouth turning down at the corners into a sneer.

“Let’s see just what a
pervert
can do with a knife, shall we, little Kaylee?” he rasped, his voice sending shivers of dread down her spine. “I went easy on you before, because I thought we had more time together. But your time has run out.”

A scream caught in her throat, but she forced it back.
Don’t give him the pleasure of hearing you scream, Kaylee. Think. Lie. Convince him, somehow, to let you go.

“I... I know who you are,” she yelled, as she edged farther left. “Sandy gave you up, told the police everything.”

He stopped his forward advance, as if startled. Then he clucked his tongue, shook his head and started forward again, moving the knife back and forth, back and forth. Eight feet now, seven.

Kaylee stepped through the break in the trees, putting an extra couple of feet between them. But thick bushes scraped her back through her shirt, cutting into her skin, stopping her from going any farther. She looked around, desperate for something to use as a weapon.

“Your name is Mulcahy... Hutch Mulcahy,” she said. “The police have a BOLO out on you. And they’re looking for your camps, searching the swamp. They will find you, unless you go, now. Escape while you still can.”

He laughed. “Trying to get rid of me, sweet Kaylee?”

“You kidnapped a cop,” she continued, her gaze still darting around. “Every cop within a hundred miles of this place is searching for Jasper, and you.”

He cocked his head, clucking his tongue. “It’s too late to save Jasper. Far, far too late.” He laughed, as if at some inside joke, and started forward again. “Come on, now. Come face your punishment.” He kept inching forward, slowly bridging the distance between them. She was trapped and he knew it, and he was enjoying her fear, stringing it out, reveling in it.