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Authors: Jo Davis

In His Sights (21 page)

BOOK: In His Sights
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It was a place she was desperate to escape. She'd tried the windows, only to find them sealed tight. She'd screamed, pounded on the door, done everything she could think of. Even tried to pick the lock, but it was no use.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, nerves jumping with fright every time the house creaked or she thought she heard footsteps, her captor moving around. Her eyes were bloodshot and her head hurt from lack of
sleep. But there was no way she could've closed her eyes even if she wanted to.

Her agonized thoughts turned to Chris and Maddy. Her lover could take care of himself, and she had no doubt that, as scared as he might be, he was also pissed as hell and would move heaven and earth to find her.

Maddy, however, was probably still asleep and hopefully hadn't yet realized that anything was wrong. But she would, and what would happen then? How would Chris or anyone explain that someone sick had taken her mother? Her little girl would be scared, and she'd need comfort. Robyn knew her friends and Chris's would step up to help, but that wouldn't necessarily reassure Maddy that everything would be all right.

She ached to hold her baby and reassure Maddy. And herself.

Footsteps coming down the hallway made goose bumps break out on her arms. In the back of her mind, she'd been holding out hope that Lee would make himself scarce, staying away until Chris and the other cops found her. A futile hope, she realized, as the keys rattled in the lock and the door opened slowly, with a squeak.

Lee stepped inside, smiling as though they'd just run into each other casually, in a restaurant or somewhere. “Hey, you're awake! Did you have a nice nap?”

“I didn't take a nap,” she muttered.
No, I screamed until I'm sure I ripped my vocal cords
.
Thanks for that.

“Oh? Well, maybe later. Have you and Mom been having a nice visit?”

She stared at her captor. If he was acting, it was an
Oscar-worthy performance. “No. She's being a bit antisocial today.”

That clearly threw him, and he frowned. “Oh. That's not like her at all.” He looked to the remains of his mother. “I expect you to treat our guests better than that, Mother. What will the ladies think if it gets around that your hospitality is less than perfect? What will Daddy think?”

“It's quite all right. I'm sure she's . . . tired.” He wasn't acting, she was sure. This man's elevator didn't go all the way to the top floor.

“Yeah, probably so.” Lee gave a sigh. “We're always tired, Mom and I, putting up with my dad's bullshit night and day.”

The doctor in her rose to the fore, her interest piqued. Suddenly she saw Lee as a troubled, psychotic man who'd obviously suffered some sort of breakdown. She was willing to bet he wasn't evil—but had suffered through something evil.

“Tell me about your dad,” she encouraged. “What kind of bullshit?”

His expression became grim, dark eyes haunted. “You wouldn't understand.”

“Try me.”

“He yells at us. Like, all the time. He likes to make Mom cry.” The man's lip quivered.

“How?”

“He hits her, calls her names. Like ‘worthless bitch,' ‘fat cow.' He'll even treat her mean at dinner parties and nobody ever says a word. None of those sons of bitches on the board ever do anything.”

And there's his first problem with authority figures. Not just his father, but those who wouldn't stop what was happening to a boy and his mother.

“What else does he do?”

“He hits me with his fists,” Lee said in a small voice. “He told me not to tell, but one day she found out.”

God, how horrible. “I'm sorry he hurt you, Lee. Can you tell me what happened next, after your mom found out?”

“I wasn't supposed to hear, but I did anyway. Dad screamed at Mom and said if she wasn't so fucking useless he wouldn't have done what he did. She said she was going to tell someone and get him in trouble.”

“But she never did?”

Tears filled his eyes and he looked away. “She would've. But he made her sick and she died, real fast.”

Horrendous. No child should suffer such atrocities.

“How did he make her sick?” she asked gently. But she had a good idea.

“There was some stuff in his garage. He got some into an eyedropper and put it into her food. He laughed and said, as a doctor, he found it fascinating to watch her meet her end writhing like a hooked fish. How could something so small make her stop breathing?”

He sounded so sad and confused.

“I don't know. But that's why I became a doctor, so I can help people like your mom.”

She knew instantly that was the wrong thing to say.

“You can't help me or my mom!” he shouted, jabbing his finger at her. The scared boy was gone, and an angry, delusional adult was in his place.

“I'm sure somebody—”

Crossing the short distance between them quickly, he backhanded her across the face, snapping her head to the side. Tasting blood, she brought her shaking hand to her face and licked her lip. She remained very still, not wanting to set him off further.

“You don't know anything about it,” he told her coldly. “Don't pretend you do.”

“I'm sorry.” Taking another risk, she gestured to the bed. “How is it that she's here, in the house?”

“This is where my dad put her, after he killed her. Then he told all his friends she ran off and left him. He was such a bastard nobody had any reason to doubt that.”

“Where's your dad now? Is he retired, or did he move away?”

Lee snorted. “Of course not. He's right where he deserves to be—dead and buried in the local cemetery. I put him there right after I gave him a taste of his own medicine.” He shrugged. “Now Mom is at peace, and I have my own apartment. But I visit Mom sometimes.”

Robyn thought she was going to be sick.

This whole messed-up family should've been carted away to an asylum years ago. Starting with the father.

If she got out of this alive, it would be a miracle.

Please, Chris. Find me before it's too late.

*   *   *

Chris checked his weapon, secured his bulletproof vest. All around him, the others were doing the same.

In his line of work, there was no such thing as too much precaution. One seemingly average nurse was very
possibly a serial killer, and really, there was no such thing as
average
when it came to people.

Armed and ready, he faced Rainey, Tonio, and two uniformed cops Rainey had chosen to go along as backup. Rainey wouldn't accompany them, but they would give him an update when they had Robyn secure and Miller under arrest.

He refused to consider any other outcome.

Outside, they took Tonio's car, and the two uniforms followed. At a time like this, Chris couldn't help but be grateful for his partner's innocuous vehicle. It would sure attract less attention from their suspect than his own flashy Camaro, and for the first time Chris wondered whether there was a method to Tonio's madness.

“Say, is this the only car you own?” he asked, curious.

His partner snorted. “No, man. This is my work vehicle. You think I take this piece of shit out cruisin' when I want to get laid?”

Chris chuckled in spite of the situation. “Why didn't you tell me? All those times I ragged on the grampsmobile, and you never said a word.”

“You never asked. You
assumed
I had no cool anywhere in my body.”

Huh. Simple as that. He'd never asked. “Sorry. What's your
real
car?”

“1978 Corvette Stingray,” Tonio said, unable to hide the pride in his voice.

Chris whistled. “Whoa, that's some serious mojo. How'd you afford that?”

“Bought her cheap, been fixing her up for years as my project car. And she's cheaper than a girlfriend.”

Chris laughed at that. “No doubt. Attract the babes with the hot car, then love 'em and leave 'em, eh?”

“You got it.”

His humor drained the closer they got to Miller's apartment. The complex was situated in a nice area of town, but not affluent. It featured the pleasant if cookie-cutter buildings and landscaping found everywhere from malls to office complexes.

Chris much preferred his older house with its sucky plumbing. At least it had character.

Dawn was just breaking when they parked one building over from Miller's. The tiredness was still being held at bay by the sheer anxiety pulsing through him. She had to be all right. He couldn't wait to pull her into his arms and watch Miller be led away in cuffs. Or a straitjacket.

“These buildings have only one entry and exit,” he pointed out to Tonio as they got out of the car. “The front door.”

“Makes it a little easier that he can't flee out a back way.”

Shane and Taylor, who'd been staking out the apartment, got out of their vehicle and fell into step with them. The two uniformed cops brought up the rear. One carried the battering ram; kicking in doors with one's foot, even with shoes on, was a great way to break an ankle.

“Yeah.” They walked toward the building in question, and Chris frowned. “Something's bothering me about this whole setup. Like how did he get an unwilling victim into his apartment without half the neighbors seeing them?”

“Good point. But it was nighttime. They could've thought she was drunk.”

“Maybe. I don't like it, though.”

“Let's see what we can find. She could be here.”

The whole thing felt off. The hair was prickling on the back of his neck, like this was too easy. Way too simple, even if the crazy bastard wanted to be caught.

At the door, Chris banged on the surface with his fist. “Lee Miller,” he shouted. “Sugarland Police. We have a warrant to search your property. Open up.”

No response.

“Let's bust it in,” Tonio said, then turned to the two uniforms and reached for the battering ram.

Tonio took the tool from the other cop, and Chris grabbed the front end of it. Tonio counted to three; then they swung the heavy ram into the door near the handle with crushing force. The wood began to splinter, and it only took one more solid blow for the door to cave, rocketing inward to bang against the inside wall.

Quickly they passed the battering ram back to one of the other cops, and then Chris took the lead, rushing inside with his weapon drawn.

Nothing but silence met their arrival. The apartment was pristine, almost too much so. There were no throw pillows on the sofa, no framed photographs. No magazines or books lying around, no mail or other papers. Cautiously, he crept toward the kitchen and found the same lack of personality.

Moving down the hallway, Tonio on his heels, Chris checked the rest of the place. The bedroom was similarly bare; the bed had not been slept in last night, if ever. A
quick glance revealed just a few items of clothing in the closet. In the bathroom, there was one small container of body wash.

Yeah, he wasn't touching
that
shit with a ten-foot pole.

Frustrated, Chris walked back to the kitchen and yanked open the fridge—not only was it empty, but it wasn't even cold.

“He doesn't fucking live here,” Chris groaned, anger mounting. “This is his dummy address. He's screwing with us.”

Tonio didn't necessarily agree. “I don't know if he's messing with us so much as he's got this whole separate life that doesn't belong here. Maybe this apartment was his attempt to be normal, you know?”

“Could be. Does it matter? Miller and Robyn aren't here, and neither is any of the evidence we need,” he ground out. “Shit!”

“We'll regroup.” His partner looked tired, but determined. “He's got another bolt-hole. We won't stop until we find out where it is.”

“Yeah.” He blew out a breath, his body sagging now that the adrenaline rush had passed. “Damn, I've got to call Daisy. She's been watching Maddy, and I don't even know if the sitter is coming, or if she's staying. Is this a school day? Who'll take her? I can't screw up the very first time Robyn really needs me to take care of her daughter—”

“Chris, calm down, man.” Tonio eyed him with concern. “Take a deep breath. You said Daisy's with the little girl?”

“Yes.” He inhaled, then let the air out slowly, trying to calm himself.

“Then the kid is fine. Daisy works with juveniles all the time, and she loves them. What's more, Daisy is a cop, too, and she knows the score when it comes to being tied up at work. Maddy's in good hands.”

“That's true,” Shane put in, glancing around the living room. “They're fine.”

“You're right. I'm just worried about the munchkin.” He swiped a hand down his face. “She's such a good kid, Tonio. A ray of light, just like her mom. She doesn't deserve to have anything bad happen, not after all she's been through.”

Chris's heart hurt thinking about the ragged hole Greg's suicide had left in Robyn and Maddy's lives. They had come through the grief, but how would Maddy survive losing her mother?

“Go home, get some rest,” Tonio urged. “We'll find Robyn, and you won't be any good to her if you're dead on your feet.”

He shook his head and started out the door, his friends trailing behind. “I can't sleep. Not yet, and not until she's home safe and sound. There's no reason why you can't get some shut-eye, though. I'll keep working on getting a second address, and I'll call you when we get a hit.”

Tonio gave a humorless laugh. “You're shitting me, right? You're my partner, man. Where you go, I go. We're in this together, until the end.”

Relief swamped him, and gratitude. How could he have ever doubted Tonio would be a good partner? He wouldn't make that mistake again. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

The two uniforms took care of letting the building's manager know about the broken door, while Tonio drove them back to the station. Shane and Taylor followed. When they arrived, he learned that Rainey had gone home for a while and Chris phoned to let him know things hadn't gone as planned.

BOOK: In His Sights
3.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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