Last Words (24 page)

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Authors: Mariah Stewart

BOOK: Last Words
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I’m the backup,
she chided herself.
There was no one else. And the suspect is in custody. Jesus, if you can’t handle being in a dark building after nine years in the FBI, you should probably be selling real estate.

“Duncan?”

She ducked as something white flew at her, causing her heart to all but leap from her chest.

“Pigeons,” she grimaced as it flapped past her. “I really don’t like pigeons…”

Up ahead, at the end of the hall, was a closed door. A hint of light bled out from underneath, and she headed for it.

“Duncan?” she called as she pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

Hands grabbed her from behind and a voice whispered something unintelligible in her ear.

Searing pain, hot and white and sharp as a bolt of lightening, punched her squarely in the back between her shoulders. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was Duncan’s body stretched out before her on a bed covered with a bloody sheet.

26

Mia forced her eyes open, then squinted against the blaze of light that blinded her from every direction. She twisted and tried to turn over, but found she could not move. It took several minutes for her foggy brain to figure out that she was flat on her back on a narrow bed against a wall in a small yellow room. Her mind felt like mush. She tried to raise her hands but could not move her arms, tried to pull her legs up but they, too, remained motionless.

Good Lord. Duncan. Had she really seen him…?

“Duncan…” she whispered.

“Ah, there you are. Welcome back.”

A man sat just a few feet from the side of the bed, but with the harsh light in her eyes, she could not make out his face.

“Duncan…” she repeated.

“Duncan had to go,” the man told her. “He got in the way.”

Her brain was still fogged from the charge she’d taken from the Taser. She wet her lips and attempted to sit up again. She struggled against the leather straps that bound her ankles and wrists to the metal bed frame.

“Feeling vulnerable, Agent Shields?” He leaned in close and traced a finger from her neck to her navel, and that was when she realized to her horror that she’d been stripped naked.

“I’ve had my eyes on you from the day you arrived in St. Dennis.” His mouth was close to her ear. “And now I have you.”

“Todd?” She blinked, still trying to focus.

“Ah, you remember me.” He pulled back from her. “I’m flattered.”

“Lisa’s husband…”

“Make that, the grieving widower.”


You
killed her? How could you have done that?”

“How could I not? After you came up with that profile the other night, she was watching me, I know she was.” He pulled his metal folding chair closer. “It fit me like a glove. I’m surprised no one else realized it. Trauma at an early age…my parents died in a car accident when I was three, did she tell you that?”

She shook her head.

“Or that our grandparents raised us, me and my sister? That they used to bring us here for the summer? God, I hated it.” He got up and began to pace. “A toney boarding school during the school year, then in the summer, they brought me here. You can imagine how well I fit in with all the fishermen’s kids. To say they weren’t very kind to a boy like me would be an understatement.”

“Then why did you move back here?”

He shrugged. “I inherited the big house, the land along the waterfront. I built the marina, the showroom.” His smile was pure satisfaction. “I got to be a very big fish in a very small pond. Even the townies who’d made my life a living hell when I was a kid came around.”

“Even while you were thinking about ways of getting even with them.”

“I’d thought of that a long time ago.”

“Lisa…”

“Lisa should have stayed home with her children where she belonged,” he snapped.

“What happened to the grieving husband?”

“What better way for a grieving husband to get through the pain of losing his beloved wife than to have a handy replacement.” He reached over and drew a delicate circle around her right breast with his index finger. “Sort of like getting back on the bike after falling off, if you know what I mean. So we’re going to play a little house. I’m going to be the daddy, and you’re going to be the mommy…”

“You stupid son of a bitch, the FBI is going to be all over you before you can blink.” She struggled against the bindings.

“Oh?” He blinked several times, then looked around. “I don’t see anyone.”

“Duncan told me what he’d found. I told Garland to send the techs here to process…”

“Process all they want. I’ll be long gone by the time they get here. And so will you, pretty Mia.”

“It won’t take Beck long to figure out what you’ve done, Todd.”

“Beck’s a fool. He’s got Mickey Forbes locked up and he’s not looking beyond him. Besides, he’s too busy mourning my wife.” He stared at Mia, then asked, “Do you think they were lovers?”

“Beck and Lisa? Are you crazy?”
Well, duh. What a stupid question.
“They were friends. He liked and respected her. And she adored you.”

Mia almost choked on her words. “She told me you were her dream man.”

“Yes, well. Of course I was.” He looked away from her face. “Don’t think killing her was easy for me. She was a very good mother to my children.”

“Is that all you can say about her? That she was a good mother to your children?”

“That was all she had to be. That was her function. She did it well. I was sorry to have to kill her, for their sakes. They’ll be very unhappy when they find out she’s dead.”

“They’ll be even more unhappy when they find out who killed her.”

“You talk too much, you know that?” He took a white cloth out of his pocket, then forced it into her mouth. “There. That’s better. Now you truly are the perfect woman.”

She cursed behind the gag and he laughed.

“Do you like the water, Mia? I hope so.” He ran a hand over her bare arm and her stomach roiled. “I have it all worked out. There’s a boat down at the marina all stocked and ready to go. We’ll be living and loving on the high seas, won’t that be romantic? We can sail to the ends of the earth together. I have it all planned.”

She struggled against the restraints and he laughed again.

“Eager to get started, are you?” He glanced at his watch. “It won’t be long now. As soon as it gets dark, my sweet. As soon as it gets dark…”

He started whistling a tune it took her a few minutes to place. The chorus from Pink Floyd’s “Southern Cross.”

Todd rose from the chair and stood over her.

“You really are quite beautiful, you know that?”

He ran his fingers through her hair and fanned it out around her head, and she cringed at his touch. He smiled, then lowered his head, and licked her stomach. She drew away from him, drew into herself, and in spite of the heat, she chilled to the bone.

This cannot be happening to me. This cannot be happening

She thought of all the many victims she’d seen in the past, all of the rape victims and the murder victims whose stories she’d heard and then forgotten, as their stories were replaced by those of other victims. They’d been women just like her, just as vulnerable, just as frightened. Their lives just as important as hers, their loves as deep, their dreams just as real. And surely they all had been just as surprised as she was to find themselves a victim.

And soon, she’d be just as dead.

She thought of Colleen Preston’s sad good-bye to her parents, Holly Sheridan’s sobbing declaration of love, and wondered if she’d be given the chance to leave something for her father, her brothers.

There were so many people she loved, so many who loved her.

The thought occurred to her then that there were those who would go after Todd with a vengeance, who would not rest until he was utterly destroyed. Andy—her brother would go to the ends of the earth to find Todd. Connor—he knew people in every dark corner of the world. There’d be no place on the planet where Todd would be safe, no place Connor could not track him.

And Beck…? She wondered. Would Beck join in the hunt? And if so, would it be revenge or justice he’d be seeking?

It gave her some small measure of comfort—her one small bit of consolation—to know that, in the end, there would not be enough of Todd left to make a positive identification.

27

Beck was beat, hot, and angry by the time he got back to the station. There were circles under his eyes and an air of sadness about him.

“You hear from Duncan yet?” He asked Garland, who held up a hand in gesture to Beck to indicate he was on the phone.

“I’m sorry, but the department has no comment at this time,” Garland was telling the caller. “I will tell Chief Beck that, I certainly will. That won’t be necessary. I think he knows how to contact your station…”

Garland disconnected the call. “Unbelievable. I can’t understand how the word got out so fast.” He held up a handful of slips of paper. “Here. It isn’t that I don’t trust voice mail…”

“I’d rather have it written down anyway,” Beck told him as he scanned the messages.

“Chief, I can’t believe that Lisa…”

“Neither can I.” Beck started toward his office, then turned back and asked, “Where is everyone? Has Duncan turned up yet?”

“He called in a little while ago. He wanted to talk to you or to Agent Shields. She took the call. He said he was over at…”

The phone rang and he reached for it.

“Let it go. Duncan was where? We’ve been looking for him all day.” Beck walked back toward him.

“Duncan told her he was over at the old bank building on Locust and he wanted her to meet him there. She said he found something, she thought it might be the place where the killer kept his victims but the connection was bad so she wasn’t sure.” He shook his head. “Geez, Chief, I still can’t believe Mickey…”

“What time did she leave?”

“Oh, it couldn’t even be a half-hour yet.”

“Has she called in?”

“No.”

An uneasy feeling clawed at him. If Duncan had found something and Mia was with him, why hadn’t one of them called to let him know what they had?

“Get Susan, tell her to meet me there. And Hal. Get Hal over there.”

Beck went out the door and started across the parking lot. No car. He’d have to walk. With every step, his anxiety grew. Why hadn’t Mia called him?

Why hadn’t one of them called in?

He broke into a run. A few short blocks to the corner, one down Charles, a few more to the bank building. He was out of breath by the time he reached Locust Lane.

As he drew closer to the bank, he noticed three vehicles parked opposite the bank. Duncan’s patrol car. Mia’s Lexus. And another, partly obscured in front of the Lexus. The setting sun cast shadows on both sides of the street, so Beck had to step into the roadway to get a better look. He expected to see Mickey Forbes’s black Mercedes parked in front of Mia.

What he saw was Todd Singer’s black sedan.

Beck stopped in the middle of the street, piecing it all together.

Why wasn’t Todd home with his kids?

Why…?

Jesus God, if he had Mia…

“Son of a bitch,” he swore as he turned and ran toward the building. “You son of a bitch…”

He tried each door, as Mia had done. When he found the door at the back of the building open, he radioed back to the station and told Garland to get any available law enforcement agents—St. Dennis, Cameron or Ballard P.D. or the FBI, he didn’t care which—on the scene ASAP. Drawing his gun, he slipped inside the building, and went down the steps.

The door at the end of the hallway was partially open, and bright light spilled out on to the floor. Beck crept along the wall, hugging the shadows, his ears straining against the silence. As he came closer to the light, he heard a voice. He paused to listen. One voice or two?

One voice. Todd’s.

Then where was Duncan?

Beck stepped closer, closer. Still against the wall, still in the shadows, until he was close enough to see inside the room.

Mia lay naked on the bed, her wrists and ankles tied with straps that were secured to the bed frame. Todd stood with his back to the door. Beck knew he’d only have one chance to do this right. If Todd had murdered his own wife—if he’d killed the others—taking Mia’s life would mean nothing. In that moment, it occurred to Beck that to him, it meant more than he’d realized.

Todd leaned over Mia, and Beck saw his chance. He slipped through the door, his gun raised.

“Why Lisa?” Beck asked. “Why, Todd?”

“She figured it out. I know she did. She spent all morning at The Coffee Counter, someone would have told her.” Todd raised his head.

“Told her what?”

“That I knew the girls. That I’d been talking to them. She called me, said she needed to talk to me about something. What else could it have been?”

“I don’t know, Todd. What do husbands and wives talk about?”

“She
knew
. And it was her, or me.” Todd sneered. “It wasn’t going to be me.”

“How could you do that to your own wife?”

“Like I said—her or me…”

“How’d you do it, Todd?” Beck asked. “How’d you get to them?”

“The girls?” Todd turned to him very slowly. “Have you ever met a young girl who wouldn’t jump at the chance for a few days at the beach? Especially when the rent is ridiculously low…”

“You met them at The Coffee Counter. Nice friendly atmosphere, easy conversation…”

“Non-threatening, that’s the key, Beck.” Todd smiled. “You go in at the same time every day, you see the same people all the time. You chat a little, you develop a relationship, you understand?”

“So when you mentioned you had a beach house to rent out…”

“Like taking candy.” He nodded. “‘Gosh, the family we rented to for next week had to cancel, you know anyone who might like to get away for a few days? We kept the deposit, so we’d let them have it cheap if they promise not to tell anyone…’”

“And of course they bit.”

“Every time. Then it was just a matter of me meeting them someplace to turn over the key. A little Taser…a little rope…” He smiled. “Let the fantasy begin…”

“Fantasy time is over, Todd.” Beck took a step toward him. In a flash, Todd’s arm shot out, grabbed the chair and swung it at Beck’s head. Before Beck could get a shot off, Todd ran through a door in the back of the room.

Beck pulled the cloth from Mia’s mouth.

“Are you…?”

“Just get him…” she gasped.

Beck took a pen knife from his pocket and slashed the cords that bound Mia’s wrists, handed the knife to her, and then took off after Todd.

The hall leading from the room wasn’t lit nearly as brightly as the hall that had led into it. Beck paused on the other side of the door and listened. There, from off to his right, he heard a scuffling sound.

Cautiously, Beck proceeded toward the sound, trying to keep his back to the wall and his sight straight ahead while still being aware of either side. He entered another room, and hesitated, perhaps a moment too long. From out of the shadows, Todd lunged at him, slamming Beck against the door, knocking the gun from his hand. By the time Beck scrambled to his feet and found the gun, Todd had escaped through the open door.

From the end of the hall, he could hear the sound of running feet, then of a slamming door.

Then shouts…gunshots…silence.

Beck rushed back to the room where he’d left Mia. From the end of the hall, he heard voices. Hal, maybe. He prayed it was Hal.

He found Mia sitting up, hunched over on the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest and her head down. She was visibly shaking.

“Mia, it’s going to be all right now.” Beck unbuttoned his shirt as quickly as he could. “They have him. I’m pretty sure they have him now…”

He helped her into the shirt.

“I’m afraid it’s a little dirty. Maybe a little sweaty…” he told her, “but I don’t know where he put your things…”

As her arms slid into the sleeves, she looked up and said, “When I told Connor you’d have my back, I never expected you’d give me the shirt off it.”

She began to cry softly and tried to work the buttons, but her fingers were shaking too hard. “Get it? That’s cop humor. You gave me the shirt off your back…”

“Right. I got it.” He finished the buttons for her, then knelt on the floor next to the bed. He eased her head onto his shoulder and wrapped his arms around her, rocking her gently. “I got it…”

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