“Get packed up. We’re getting out of here.” He wildly scanned the plane and spun to look outside. “Where’s Thomas?”
Her heart pounded. The determination on Jim’s face had a shadow of...fear. Fear? From Jim? Alex appeared beside him; relief flashed on his face as he spotted her. He bent over and rested his hands on his thighs as he panted, his eyes never leaving her. She felt her cheeks pale.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Her hands clutched the back of a seat, her nails digging into the fabric. “Where’s Thomas?” Jim shouted the question. “Out there!” She gestured at the woods. “He’s been gone for a few minutes. Now what in the hell is going on?”
The two men exchanged a glance she didn’t like. Not one bit.
“Tell me! What happened?” Her breathing sped up. Alex licked at his lips and exchanged one more look with Jim. She wanted to slap them both.
“Besand’s here somewhere. We need to move out.” “Here? Where? How do you know?” “We think he spent the night in the cockpit.” “Did you see him?”
Jim shook his head. He wouldn’t look her in the eye. Something was dreadfully wrong.
“What made you think he was there?”
Jim bent over and tossed her gloves at her. “Get packed. I want to get out of here.”
She caught the gloves and hurled them back at his face. He batted them away. “Answer my question, Jim. I’m not packing up one thing until you tell me what’s going on.” She was nearly yelling, and Ryan stirred.
“What’s going on?” Ryan awkwardly slouched forward in his chair and Brynn stepped over to support his shoulders. “Fuck,” he said.
“You look like shit.” Jim stated.
“Thanks. I feel that way too.” He exhaled roughly and leaned into Brynn’s support. “Dizzy.”
Jim spun around and stomped out of the plane. Brynn realized he’d been holding his handgun where she couldn’t see it as they talked. She shot a questioning gaze to Alex. He had his gun ready too.
“Can he walk out of here?” Alex nodded at Ryan, ignoring the question in her eyes.
“I can hear you, man. Ask me.” Ryan was hoarse; his eyes closed halfway as he leaned on Brynn. She touched his forehead. Hot and dry. She gave Alex a small shake of her head.
“I saw that, Brynn. Let me decide what I can and can’t do,” the sick man muttered. He sat up again and leaned one arm on his thigh. His eyes met hers and she tried not to wince at the effort he put forth.
Ryan was very sick.
“You’re burning up with a fever. How’s your stomach?”
“Stomach’s good. Throat’s killer, and my skin hurts everywhere.”
Flu? Could he possibly have just a flu bug? His symptoms could be viral. He’d simply started with a nasty stomach virus that ripped him up and probably exasperated a new ulcer. She hoped.
Ryan sat up farther and tried to stand. He sprawled back in the seat, and Brynn helped him sit straight. “I’m not walking today. Ask me tomorrow.”
“Where’s your weapon?”
Ryan reached down between the seat and fuselage and lifted out his Glock.
Alex looked at Brynn. “You know how to use that?” She nodded. “Give it to her. Keep it on you at all times and keep an eye outside. We’ll identify ourselves before we come in. Shoot first. Ask questions later. We’re gonna find Thomas.” He held her eye contact until she nodded again. He ducked and vanished out the door.
Brynn stared after him, her heart in her throat and an icy cold gun in her numb hand. Shoot first? Could she do that?
A grin split his face as Darrin watched the two men race up the slope. Yep. They’d found his message.
How long had it taken Alex to understand it?
One second? Two?
This felt good. He’d scored a point against the other team and had set the bar. Now to see what their response would be. Would they run out of the woods with their tails between their legs? Or hunt him down?
He shivered, his smile steady.
Alex would never stand idle after the threat he’d made about the woman. It wasn’t really a threat. Darrin had simply made an observation, but Alex would see it as a threat. Darrin had always been particular about the nurses he chose. He’d looked for different things when he decided to put patients out of their misery, but for the nurses they had to be beautiful. They had to have that special internal glow that radiated. He’d needed to feel the power that came from destroying that beauty. Even as she’d fought against the hands around her neck that special element shone in her eyes.
It’d made him want to smash it, annihilate it, and then drink it in.
The rush…
He exhaled heavily.
Would they come after him? He fingered the gun in his pocket. It was awkward, bulky, and didn’t feel comfortable in his hands. He could use it if he had to, but he’d shot a handgun only twice in his life. It was doubtful his aim would be any good. Maybe he shouldn’t have challenged them. He swore under his breath. There were four men. And they were probably all armed.
Suddenly his message on the ceiling of the cockpit didn’t seem too smart.
Why had he confronted Alex that way? He should have just let him leave and then followed.
Darrin screwed his eyes shut. He hadn’t been able to stop himself. It was like one of their sessions where he’d thrown Kinton scraps of information and watched him grovel for more. He’d loved the power he held over Alex Kinton during those times. Like the session where he’d started talking about Olivia Short. The police hadn’t located her body by the time he’d been arrested. Darrin had been grilled by some sharp detectives but hadn’t revealed her whereabouts. It’d been one of the factors that he’d used to negotiate his visits with Alex. He’d offered to possibly reveal the resting places of the three women still missing, but only to Alex Kinton. The three women the police knew about, anyway.
Darrin leaned against a tree and sighed.
Alex had still been with the marshals’ office at that point of their relationship. At their session, Alex had looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. And most surprising, he’d pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket that he proceded to chain-smoke through the session.
At first Alex had just sat in the cold little room, his eyes on the table as he fingered his cigarette. It’d been one of those typical interview rooms. A bland box. No windows. Scavenged furniture. A camera in the upper corner. Darrin’s demands had been for the camera to be turned off during their sessions. Alex had agreed. The only witness had been a cop who stood directly outside the door and occasionally peeked through the skinny rectangle window. And the cop couldn’t hear a thing.
Alex’s technique with the cigarettes had been awkward, and Darrin knew the habit was recently formed. His chest had swelled with pleasure. He’d caused that habit.
“What’d you do this week?”
Alex hadn’t met his eyes as he flicked ash into an ashtray. “Nothing.” He’d sat casually in his hard chair. He’d dressed neatly in jeans and a jacket, but there was a feral look about his eyes that spoke of restless nights.
Darrin had frowned and tried again. “Did you watch American Idol?”
Alex had snorted, one side of his mouth lifting. “Fuck, no.”
“You should. There are some very talented kids on that show. Some can really sing. Beautiful girls too.”
Alex’s gaze had flown to meet his.
Gotcha.
“I like the girl from the Philippines. She’s got an amazing range.”
Alex had inhaled heavily on his cigarette, gaze still locked with Darrin’s.
Darrin’s heart had slowed. It was like meth rushing through his system, and he’d wanted to stretch out the effects. He’d breathe shallowly and let the high seep through his body. If he kept calm, the buzz would linger.
“It was county music night. I hate country music, but she managed to transcend the twanginess. Truly a great performance by a beautiful girl. She reminded me of Olivia.”
Alex’s lashes had twitched ever so slightly, but Darrin had been watching closely and spotted it. “Olivia?” Alex’s voice had been purposefully casual. Darrin had inhaled and tasted the curiosity that permeated the air between them.
Darrin had swallowed and smiled. “Oh, yes. Olivia. She was from Hawaii or something originally, right? Long black hair, dark eyes, wide smile. Gorgeous.”
The room temperature had perked, but Alex hadn’t moved. He had charged the air in the room without moving a muscle. Darrin had casually moved his gaze to the small window where he could see the back of the guard’s head.
He’d let Alex sweat a little. He’d known better than to ask Darrin any direct questions. He’d known he’d have to wait until Darrin was ready to talk about Olivia. When Darrin had told him of Megan’s resting place, he’d drawn the facts out over three sessions.
He’d looked back at Alex. Alex had been acting casual, focusing on a blank spot on the wall, but the fingers holding the cigarette had quivered for a split second. Lovely.
Darrin had rested his chin on one hand and thrummed his fingers on the table. It was an art. If he gave too little, Alex would simply leave. If he gave too much, it would be over too soon. It was a delicate balance to keep Alex sitting across from him. One time he’d said too little and Alex hadn’t come back for several months.
Darrin had nearly cried with relief when he did return. And had nearly dumped out every hidden body location on the table between them. Control. He’d had to exercise control. He’d spend hours thinking about how best to string Alex along. What words and phrases he needed to use to push those emotional buttons.
“Looks like I’ve got your attention now, A-man.”
Anger had flashed in Alex’s eyes as he avoided Darrin’s gaze. He’d crossed an ankle over his knee. “Don’t call me that,” he’d muttered.
They’d both known Alex had just made a mistake.
One of the unwritten rules of this game had been that Alex didn’t lose his temper or verbally react when Darrin prodded him. Darrin had licked his finger and made a score mark in the air.
Alex had shot out of his chair and slapped one hand on the handle of the door as he pounded for the guard to let him out.
Darrin had jumped to his feet. He’d fucked up.
“Alex. Don’t…Fuck! I didn’t…I’ll tell you where Olivia is.” Darrin had breathed hard. Alex had been one step away from leaving the room, and Darrin knew he wouldn’t come back again for months.
Alex had spun around and nailed him with a direct stare. “Now. Say it now or I’m out of here.”
Darrin’s throat had tightened and he’d scratched at his neck. “Well—”
“Say it now!”
He’d swallowed. “I’m not really sure—”
“Fuck this. I’m out of here.” Alex had turned back to the door and pounded again.
“She’s in Forest Park. About twenty feet off one of the bike trails!” Darrin had screeched. Then he’d pressed his lips closed.
The guard had finally opened the door, one hand on his gun as he’d stared in surprise at the two men.
“Get me a map of Forest Park. Now,” Alex had snapped at the confused man. He’d turned back to Darrin. “You are going to show me exactly where. The first sign of shitting around or screwing with my head and I’m out of here.”
“Yes,” Darrin had whispered as he sat. His spine had slumped. He’d lost the battle.
The snowfall started up again. Darrin raised the binoculars to his eyes and rolled his injured shoulder, pleased with the low level of pain. And his head felt a million times better too. The body of the plane looked silent, and he wondered what was going on inside. Were the two men blabbing his written message to the others? Pride expanded his chest. He lowered the glasses, blew out a satisfied breath, and turned to go back to his excellent hiding place. He had to be ready when they decided to leave.
Alex scanned for footprints outside the plane. Thomas’s big tracks led upward and to the woods, with paw prints close by. Jim’s messier jogging prints followed. Alex started after them. His mind wouldn’t slow down.
Beautiful girl. Beautiful girl.
How many times had he heard Besand use those words? The most disgusting, dreamlike happiness would cover Besand’s face as he uttered the words. Like he was remembering squeezing the life out of them. Desecrating the beauty.
A profiler had told him Besand had the need to destroy beauty. The profiler couldn’t tell him why but had theorized it had something to do with the women in his life from when he was younger. Perhaps someone physically beautiful had emotionally scarred him somehow. Alex had dumped the theory with a laugh. What guy hadn’t been shot down by a gorgeous woman? With that logic the world would be crawling with serial killers.
The profiler had shaken her head at him. It wasn’t the act itself, she’d explained, it was the act in conjunction with the killer’s psychopathic thinking.
Alex made no excuses for Besand. Besand simply liked to kill.
And he had Brynn in his sights.
Alex jogged through the snow. He could hear voices far ahead. Jim must have caught up with Thomas. They were tough men. The three of them should be able to hold off one injured serial killer. Alex pursed his lips. Besand had a gun, but Alex knew he didn’t have much history handling weapons. That was a big strike against him. Three against one. Four if you counted Brynn, which he did. She was incredibly tough. Too bad Ryan was on his ass. He was a scrappy kid.
They should have no problem overpowering Besand.
Then why was his skin crawling?
Besand had a good hiding place and was obviously well enough to move back and forth to the cockpit. If he’d been a halfway decent shot he could take them out one at a time like a sniper.
He glanced back and measured the distance from the body of the plane to the closest big trees. Darrin would have to be an excellent shot. And Alex knew he wasn’t.
Kiana barked in the distance.
“Jim!” he called out the name before he could see the men. He didn’t want the cop drawing on him as he came on them in the woods. They were all a little trigger-happy at the thought of Besand creeping through the trees.
The two men were watching for him, Kiana beside Jim’s feet.
“Ryan isn’t going anywhere,” Alex said. “He can’t even stand up. His fever’s pretty high.”
“Shit. We were just talking about what to do if that was the case.” Jim twisted his lips.
“Brynn has Ryan’s gun. Announce yourself before you enter the plane.”
“Crap. She won’t use that thing. She hates guns.”
“She said she knows how to use it.”
“She does. I taught her. I wouldn’t let her on any of my hasty teams without knowing how to shoot first, but she refuses to carry one.”
“What now?” Alex calmly asked the question even though his nerves were spiking like he’d been shocked.
Jim and Thomas looked at each other. “Someone needs to hike out,” Jim said. “Tell people where we are. I just tried calling Collins. There’s no coverage at the moment. I don’t know how long this storm is going to last. Whoever hikes out can’t go alone though. And obviously Ryan shouldn’t be left alone.”
“Something tells me he’ll see that differently,” Thomas muttered.
“Brynn won’t leave him. I know her. She’s in full nurse mode and won’t let him move.” Jim gnawed on his lip. “I think the three of us should head out. We can move fast.”
Alex pictured himself trying to keep up with the two mountain men.
Jim frowned. “Unless you’re not feeling up to it. You had quite a shock yesterday. And I’ve seen you favoring your knee. Did that happen in the avalanche?”
“No, but it didn’t help it. Old injury.”
“Can you hike out?”
Alex paused, and Jim didn’t let him answer.
“You wouldn’t have to stop to think about it if you could. You’re staying here.”
“I’m good with that. I think one of us should stay.”
“Good. It’s settled.” Jim made a definitive motion with his hand.