“We’ve got an address.”
Lusco snapped his cell shut, scribbling on his notebook. “Brody came through. He found Linda DeCosta and she gave him an address. It’s out in Molalla, about twenty miles south of here. Property search says the owner is Robert Costar. That’s got to be our man. The mom said she’s been in touch with her son periodically. Claims her boy isn’t doing anything.”
“Yeah, right.” Mason was already slipping into his coat. “Call county. Get them to do a drive-by and watch the place. Get their SWAT unit in on this. I’m not taking any chances.” His energy rocketed like he’d had a double shot of epinephrine. Finally, a break. And it felt like a good one. The search for Kelly Cates had turned up nothing. No video footage at her gym, no abandoned car, no sightings. She’d literally vanished. He was ready for a lead like this. The phone on Mason’s desk rang and he snapped it up impatiently, tucking it between his ear and shoulder as he struggled with a twisted coat sleeve. “Callahan.”
He froze, his coat partially on. “Are you shitting me? You’re sure? He’s the one who called it in? Why?” He grabbed at the receiver as it started to slip.
Mason’s hard gaze locked with Ray’s as the voice babbled in his ear. Then he hung up the phone and stared at it. He closed his eyes as he felt his adrenaline jump off a high dive and land in a belly flop. His case was imploding.
“This can’t be happening. Too many things at once,” he muttered.
“What? What happened?” Ray sounded ready to strangle him.
“Melody Harper’s gone. Grabbed late last night.” He rubbed a tired hand across his face.
“Harper’s sister? Another woman’s been grabbed? Are they sure? And they think it’s our guy?”
“Pretty damned sure. The kidnapper called it in himself. Told the nine-one-one operator we’ve been looking for him for the cop and lawyer murders.”
“Our guy? Why?” Ray was incredulous.
“Beats the shit out of me. Her maid verified Melody never came home last night and her car is still in the parking garage.” But Mason knew their killer was pissed. Dr. Campbell had been removed from his reach and now he was striking back by grabbing other women. First Kelly Cates and then Melody Harper. He must have known the little dentist was with Jack Harper so he struck out at Harper through his sister. Mason needed to call Harper. The man was going to throw a gasket.
Mason slowly finished putting on his coat and set his cowboy hat on his head. It felt lined with lead. “Warn SWAT we might have a hostage situation at the Molalla house. He might have Kelly or Melody there.”
Lacey felt Jack stir beneath her. From his breathing she knew he was awake. She kept her eyes closed, indulging in the moment. He’d cocooned her from reality for a few hours, letting her relax and briefly forget the horrors going on in the outside world. They’d made love for hours and it’d been heavenly. The fire, the snow outside, the amazing man.
Too good to be true.
But it was true. He was here in the flesh and she could hear his heart as her head lay on his warm chest. Lazily, her thoughts swept back over the hot night. She didn’t care if she was just another notch on his belt. It’d been worth it.
Some female instinct told her the night had been special to him. His eyes had told her as he kissed her, entered her. The wanting, the desire. Lust had shined there, but not exclusively. It’d gone deeper than that. She didn’t believe he would break her heart.
But she couldn’t help but feel...optimistic?
Stop analyzing. Just enjoy the moment. Her lips stretched into a smile and she felt his chest rumble with a silent laugh.
She opened her eyes, purposefully dragging out the movement to make a point about her utter physical satiation. Gray eyes sparkled at her, relaxation shining from their depths. Silent happy fireworks shot off in her brain.
He was gorgeous. So entirely male. And right now he belonged to her. She ran her nails through the hair on his chest, making his nipples tighten in response and she reveled in the power of a being woman. The power to arouse a man through the simplest things. It was intoxicating. She lifted her head to smile directly at him, considering making him beg.
“Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” she whispered back, sinking into those silver eyes. He had the most beautiful eyes. They could shift from the dark gray of rain-laden clouds to the silver hue of sunshine glinting off a lake.
He rolled her onto her back for a deep, arousing kiss, raking his fingers through her hair and crushing her breasts with the weight of his chest. She felt his growing hardness at her thigh. A cell phone rang.
“Shit.”
“I don’t want to answer it.” He tried to distract her with his fingers.
“You need to. It might be important.” She reluctantly sat up, pushing back the comforter, exposing her breasts to the cooler air. His eyes darkened and he cupped one, a wicked slow smile on his lips. Closing her lids, she nearly gave in, but the phone rang again, and she shoved his hand away and crawled over to his jacket on the couch.
“How can you expect me to keep my hands to myself when you look like that?” Glancing back, she saw his gaze focused on her bare bottom as she kneeled at the couch. She gave a teasing grin and glanced at the screen on his phone.
Detective Callahan.
Her smile faded as she sucked a breath.
Her face blank, she silently handed the phone to Jack. He’d sat up with a frown as she’d stared at the caller ID.
As Jack listened, Lacey watched his countenance change. He flinched and the healthy color faded from his skin. Anger replaced the shock, his jaw tightened and lines appeared around his mouth. Lacey’s heart accelerated at the stress on his face, her breathing forced. Her lungs seizing.
He hung up, his gaze on the fire, his face a mess of conflicting emotions. “He’s taken Melody.”
Lacey sat hard on the floor. “What? Your sister?”
He’s grabbed another one. My God. What has he done with Kelly? He’s already moved on to another woman?
With a burst of energy, Jack stood up and strode into the kitchen, returning with his clothes. He dressed with shaking hands, words spilling. “The bastard called to let the cops know he had my sister. Callahan thinks they might know where she is. Your buddy, Brody, got an address from Linda DeCosta. Her son Bobby has a house in Molalla. The police are going in with SWAT in a few hours.” He picked up his socks. “The guy didn’t mention Kelly.”
Pulling her bare legs tight to her chest, Lacey buried her head in her knees.
Me. He was supposed to get me. Not Jack’s sister.
The temperature in the toasty cabin felt like it had dropped to subzero and her teeth chattered. This was her fault. The killer was sending a message to her. Hurting Kelly and Melody because he couldn’t reach her. He was angry and striking out.
She’d pulled Jack into her chaos of a life and endangered his family. Why’d she let Jack stick around? If she’d brushed him off they wouldn’t be in this position. His sister wouldn’t be with a killer.
They’d been literally screwing around and this was the consequence.
Her newfound happiness floated up the chimney and vanished with the smoke.
She shuddered and bit her knee, causing little red dents.
He kneeled in front of her, his shirt unbuttoned. “Lacey, get dressed. I want to be there when they go in.” He looked at the red spots on her knee in confusion. “What are you doing?” His eyes met hers and understanding dawned. “Oh, God. This isn’t your fault.”
She couldn’t answer, and felt tears burn in the back of her eyes.
“This isn’t your fault. I’ve been dragged into this mess by being in the wrong place at the wrong time too many times. It’s not because of you.” He stayed on his knees in front of her, his hands gripping hers.
Unable to talk, she shook her head.
“Stop it. It’s no one’s fault except for the creep who’s doing this. And the police are about to stop him. I’ve got to be there.” He lifted her chin to get her to look at him, his eyes intense.
“I chose to be with you, stay with you, knowing some sicko could be after you. And I don’t regret a single moment! I want...” His fingers tightened on her face as he fought for words. “Listen to me. It’s not your fault! This isn’t doing any good. Let’s get going, all right?”
Her heart tightened, and she knew he meant every word he’d said.
She nodded. He was right. Sitting here, feeling sorry for herself, wasn’t helping anyone.
Especially Melody and Kelly.
Melody’s teeth clanked against each other.
Her bathroom prison was frigid. She paced circles in the tiny windowless room, rubbing her hands on her sleeves, trying to make some heat with the friction. The pale blue walls were icy to the touch and her silk blouse and expensive skirt didn’t offer much resistance to the cold.
She glanced down and saw two damned runs in her pantyhose. Her fingers felt around her right calf and found another. She hiked up her skirt and ripped off the suffocating nylon.
She beat on the bathroom door with her fists. Again.
“God damn it! Get me out of here, you fucking bastard!”
Silence.
Maybe he’d left.
Hands stinging, she kicked at the door, using the balls of her feet, avoiding her frozen toes. He’d locked the bathroom door from the outside with a bolt.
Her prison had been stripped. He’d removed the towel racks and shower rod. He’d emptied all toiletries from the mirrored drug cabinet and the cupboards below the counter. Melody had turned the place inside out in her hunt for a weapon or tool. She’d broken her fingernails as she attempted to unscrew the fasteners on the metal drawer handles. Then she’d yanked on the showerhead, but had only torn a good-sized hole in the wall where the head was attached. She’d done the same with the fan cover in the ceiling. Her efforts didn’t yield anything usable, but it made her feel much better.
Ever since she’d woken up on the bathroom floor, she’d been racking her brain to understand what in the hell had happened. She remembered standing in the parking garage, fishing in her purse for her car keys, and wondering if she’d left them on the kitchen counter. A soft sound behind her had caught her attention, but she ignored it, concentrating on finding her keys. Then he’d come from behind, fast and strong.
It’d been like a B horror movie, and she’d starred as the too-stupid-to-live female lead. Something fabric had been placed across her mouth and nose, and she’d held her breath, knowing that to inhale would be dangerous. But he’d pinched her, making her gasp with pain and draw in breaths from the stinking rag. Dark mists had rushed at her eyes as she fought to stay conscious. Turning her head, she’d caught a glimpse of short dark hair.
She couldn’t remember past that.
He’d taken her watch, along with her shoes. She had no idea what time it was, or how long she’d been locked in the bathroom.
She kicked the door, angry at herself for being weak and stupid. She’d known better. She knew the warnings for women. Have your keys ready, check your surroundings. Confident in the safety of the well-lit parking garage, she’d let her defenses relax.
Never again.
The gaping hole around the loose showerhead caught her eye, triggering an idea, and she spun to look at the toilet. She lifted the heavy lid off the back of the toilet and struck the mirrored cabinet with it. Crashing shards of mirror flew everywhere. She picked up two of the larger sharp pieces. Weapons. She stuck the counter with one, testing it. It broke on the impact, but created a deep gouge in the countertop and a small slice on her palm.
She sucked at the wound. The shards weren’t very strong, but they were sharp. She could do some good bloody damage with them. With a grim smile she eyed the toilet lid again. It was too heavy to use as a weapon. She grasped the awkward lid and clobbered the door with it. It made a satisfying boom but no damage. She did it again. And again.
When her arms were tired, she deliberately dropped the lid in the sink, shattering out pieces of the porcelain bowl. If she couldn’t get out, she would create a big, expensive mess for someone to clean up and repair. Ramming the door had made a short crack in the bathroom door by the knob. She ran her finger down it, proud. Her muscles ached from its creation, but it was a start.
She drank water from her hands out of the sink. At least she had water. She could survive a long time on just water. Carefully stepping around the mirror pieces on the floor, she sat down on the toilet lid to catch her breath. She buried her head in her hands, wiped at her tears, and tried not to think of the newspaper articles. The ones about the serial killer. She’d read terrible stories about the torture and murder of the men. This couldn’t be related. Someone was killing men related to that old Co-Ed Slayer case. He wasn’t targeting women. But there was a woman missing. She’d heard it on the news in her car. Would she be the next part of the story?
No. This had to be a ransom thing. Jack would pay whatever they wanted, and she would be freed. She pulled some toilet paper off the roll and blew her nose. She eyed the small roll and her eyes teared again. Maybe she shouldn’t be wasting it on her nose. Exhausted, she straightened her back and took a deep breath. Her eyes fought to stay open as she stepped gingerly over the shards on the floor and into the tub; the only place safe from broken glass. Lying down on her side, the hard plastic was icy against her skin and she shivered. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and closed her eyes, leaving the lights on. Unpredictable spasms from the cold shot through her torso, but she finally fell into a light sleep.
A rapid phone call to Callahan allowed Jack through the line of police that blocked the road into the Molalla neighborhood. He pushed past the cops who’d stopped him and sprinted through the fresh snow. Two blocks away the detectives and SWAT were readying to raid a house farther around the corner. Thankfully, Lacey had agreed to wait in his truck. She’d been shaken to the core by the news about Melody the entire two-hour drive. Jack was shook up too. Twice he’d nearly rear-ended vehicles on the highway.
“They found him,” she’d muttered over and over in the truck. “It’s over.” Her head had shaken back and forth as she leaned against the headrest. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it.” Her eyes clenched shut.
“Do you think he knows what happened to Suzanne?” she’d whispered once.
Jack had nodded. “I think he knows exactly what fucking happened.”
“What about the...” Lacey had turned her head toward the window, but Jack had spotted the tears and read her mind.
“We’ll find out where the baby is.”
She’d nodded, unable to answer.
Not a baby. A child.
Please, God, let Melody be OK.
Jack had parked the truck and leaped out his door. He jogged round to her door and opened it, but Lacey sat still. Her hands were in a knot in her lap. She wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“I don’t want to watch. I don’t want to see...where he kept her. I can’t.” Jack hadn’t asked any more questions. He’d understood perfectly. For the past two hours he’d been sick to his stomach about what the police might find. Fishhooks and broken bones had haunted him as he’d driven off the mountain. But now they’d found the sick bastard’s home. He started to help Lacey out of the warm truck, but she’d shaken her head as he reached for her. He’d paused and glanced around at the dozen cop cars lining and blocking the street. He relented.
“Lock the doors,” he said firmly.
Anger flowed through him and he pumped his legs harder as he ran down the street. The bastard had his sister. If he’d done anything to hurt her...Jack wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.
Melody had to be alive.
He spotted Callahan and Lusco in a group of cops and headed their way. “What’s going on?” Their attention was directed toward a small ranch-style house at the end of the street. A newer Toyota Camry sat in the driveway with fresh tire tracks in the snow behind it.
Lusco glared at him, but Callahan answered. “SWAT is getting ready to pull up front. They’ve got snipers already in position. They’re going in through the front door with the back entrance to the house as their plan B. This could be a hostage situation if he’s home, so stay the fuck out of the way.” His sharp eyes repeated his words as he gave a tug at his hat brim.
Jack nodded and moved twenty feet away into a position where he could see the house. Callahan abruptly turned back to him. “Where’s Dr. Campbell?”
Jack gestured back the way he’d come. “Back at the roadblock in my truck.”
Relief crossed the detective’s face and he turned back to the group of cops.
Jack watched, unable to keep his feet still, wanting to get in the house and beat the crap out of the man. He closed his eyes and concentrated on Melody. She’s got to be here. If he’s hurt her, he’s a dead man.
He tensed as the big military-looking SWAT vehicle roared up to the front of the home and hit the brakes. A dozen armored men poured out and divided. Half going to the front of the house, and half streaming to the back.
A horrific crash jerked Melody awake. She pushed up from the tub with her hands, and then cowered back down. Sounds of shouts and threats filtered through her door. A man’s high voice screamed and heavy footsteps sounded, running through the house.
She leaped out of the tub and beat her bruised fists on the door, ignoring the sharp glass that sliced her feet. Loud booted steps came closer.
“Let me out!” What if the boot steps left and let her rot in this damned prison? “He locked me in! Let me out of here!” She pounded frantically on the hard door.
“Who’s there?” A muffled masculine voice came through the door, and she leaned her cheek and chest against the wood.
“I’m Melody Harper. He kidnapped me and locked...” More shouting interrupted her words. The man outside the door was yelling at others in the house, but she couldn’t make out the words. His voice grew fainter.
She pounded on the door and shrieked, “Don’t leave!”
“Stand back from the door.”