Almost Dead (14 page)

CHAPTER 30

“Please let me go. I’m freezing. We’ll both die out here in the woods. I’m scared.” The girl’s teeth chattered, loud enough for him to cover his ears to drown out the noise. He should have killed her the first day he’d brought her up the mountain. Shelby Geitner talked too much, was even demanding at times—telling him to get her more blankets and another sweater. Always something.

Frank Lyle added wood to the fire. It was a small fire, but it would heat up the soup he’d stolen and it would keep his hands warm.

“You know you’re going to go to prison for kidnapping, don’t you?”

“I’ve been locked up before. It’s not so bad. Three meals a day, hot showers, television, a library.”

“What were you in prison for?”

He didn’t answer her.

“Do you read?” she asked.

“None of your business.”

“If you could bring me a book to read, I wouldn’t be so bored during the day.”

“You won’t have to worry about being bored for too much longer.”

“Why? Are you going to kill me?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not now?”

He grunted.

“Why are you doing this?”

“No more questions.” He grabbed a cup, poured some soup into it, and brought it to where the girl was bound to an oak tree. He began to spoon-feed her. She was hungry. Feeding her was like feeding a baby bird. She opened her mouth before he even had a chance to ready the spoon.

He saw a spider crawling next to her and didn’t hesitate to squash it with the heel of his boot.

He wasn’t Spiderman. Unlike Spiderman, he didn’t give a shit if they were called arthropods or arachnids. Spiderman considered the eight-legged things to be his friends. Frank didn’t want any friends, creatures or otherwise. He wasn’t a wannabe. He had plans of his own. He was going to make a name for himself.

Eventually he would have to kill Shelby Geitner—he might even rape and torture her before killing her—but not tonight, and probably not tomorrow, either. Not until he found an empty cabin or maybe a shed, some place where he could keep his prey. Then he would focus on Lizzy Gardner—find a way to lure her there, into his own private hell, make her watch him do to Shelby what he did best. When the moment was right, he would do the world a favor and kill Lizzy, too.

CHAPTER 31

The Geitner family lived in the Boulevard Park area in the heart of Sacramento, just a few blocks from downtown. It was known as the historic residential area, convenient due to the close proximity of restaurants and shops.

Lizzy knocked and then waited for someone to come to the door. She had called ahead of time to make sure Shelby’s parents would be willing to talk to her.

Mr. Geitner came to the door. Pleasantries were exchanged before he led Lizzy inside. They passed by a grand foyer with a formal staircase. Shelby’s mother, Denise Geitner, awaited them in the main sitting room. She sat quietly in one of the cushioned chairs surrounding the stone fireplace.

“Thanks for having me,” Lizzy said before taking a seat across from Mrs. Geitner.

“The more people looking for our Shelby, the better,” Mr. Geitner said.

They had known each other for years, but Denise barely acknowledged her. It was clear the woman was holding something in, maybe resentment or blame. Lizzy wasn’t sure. “I am so sorry,” Lizzy began.

“Sorry for what?” Denise asked. “Is there something you know?”

“Let her finish,” Mr. Geitner cut in.

Lizzy tried again. “I can’t imagine what you two are going through—”

“But you know exactly what Shelby is going through,” Denise said. “Is he torturing her? Raping her? Is she tied up? Where is my daughter? What is he doing to her?”

“She’s here to help us, Denise. Give Lizzy a chance.”

“I don’t understand what you think you can do, Lizzy. The entire police force is working on finding Shelby.”

Lizzy didn’t let the woman’s tone rile her. She’d been dealing with distraught parents for over a decade. Denise was panicking. Probably hadn’t gotten much sleep. She wanted to blame someone . . . anyone.

Lizzy just needed to stay calm, find out what she could if she was going to be able to help Shelby. “I was wondering if you could tell me what Shelby’s mood was in the days before she disappeared.”

Mr. Geitner sighed. “Detectives asked the same question. Neither of us noticed any changes in Shelby. She’s a happy, healthy teenager. She has lots of friends. We didn’t notice any changes in her demeanor.”

“I did notice something different about Shelby,” Denise said, her voice a whisper. “Shelby seemed skittish, always looking over her shoulder, as if someone were watching her.”

Lizzy felt a chill settle over her.

“You didn’t mention any of this to the detective when he questioned you,” Mr. Geitner cut in, clearly out of sorts. “I thought you said she’d been the same as always—doing her homework, helping with chores . . .”

“I haven’t been sleeping, of course,” Denise went on, ignoring her husband and speaking directly to Lizzy. “Last night it hit me. But even before that, I think I knew something was off with my daughter, but I wasn’t able to put my finger on exactly what it was until last night. I think Shelby knew she was being watched.”

Mr. Geitner frowned. “Watched by who? She would have told us if she was worried about a stalker.”

“I don’t think she knew for sure,” Denise said, her voice growing stronger. “I think her reactions were instinctive.”

“How long did you notice this behavior?” Lizzy asked.

“A few days at least. A week at the most.”

Mr. Geitner grew red in the face. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Bill, I’m saying it now. What do you want from me? None of this came together for me until just last night. Why don’t you stop harassing me and go out there and find your daughter?”

“I’ve been out on the streets, going door to door every day and night. I’m doing everything I can. What have you been doing? You didn’t even want to talk to Lizzy.”

“Please,” Lizzy said, not wanting to get in the middle of their argument, but feeling as if she had no choice. “These are stressful times. Your lives have been turned upside down. Don’t let this come between you. You have other children who need you. The two of you need to stick together . . . for everyone involved.”

“Lizzy is right,” Bill said.

For the first time since she’d walked into the house, Denise looked into Lizzy’s eyes. “Find her. And hurry.”

CHAPTER 32

It was hard to believe it was already February. The sun was out, and the warmth felt good against her back as Jenny walked across the parking lot toward her car. The average temperature for the month of February was usually between 57 and 62 degrees. Today the temperature had to be somewhere in the seventies. Sweat trickled down her spine.

“Jenny! Hold up!”

She turned around, surprised to see Dwayne Roth running her way. Had he seen her take the vials out of the lab? No, that couldn’t be. She’d made certain nobody was around, even took the extra precaution of getting to work early, when the building was practically deserted. Maybe someone else within the company was onto her and he wanted to warn her.

“Man, oh, man,” he said when he caught up to her, bending over to catch his breath. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for days now. You left early yesterday—”

“I came in early, that’s why.”

“Oh, no,” he said, putting his hands up as if in self-defense. “I’m not accusing you of cheating on your hours. I would never do that. I am doing a good job of making a fool out of myself, though, aren’t I?”

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she simply stood there, waiting to see what it was exactly that he wanted.

“Let me start over.” He stood tall, straightened his tie, fixed his hair—making a big show of setting the moment, but for what?

Dwayne was an odd duck, in a good way, if that was possible. He was one of the few men who bothered dressing up for work.

“I was hoping you would go to a movie with me.”

The anxiety that had been building since first seeing him sprint toward her disappeared completely. “That’s what this is all about? You’re asking me on a date?”

“Yes.”

She looked at him again, this time taking note of his pale skin and curly, almost wiry, brown hair. He was much taller than Brandon had been. She had to tilt her head and crook her neck in order to look into his eyes. He was cute in somewhat the same way the singer Josh Groban was. Not that Dwayne was that good-looking, but he was definitely attractive in his own quirky way.

Jenny had never been asked on a date before.

The only reason she’d ended up with Brandon was because she’d met him on the plane during a long delay when all the passengers were stuck in their seats and had nowhere else to go. He had been so charming, and she’d been absolutely gobsmacked that a ridiculously handsome man such as Brandon was paying her any attention at all, which is why she’d said yes when he’d asked if he could stay at her place during his two-day layover. During the night, he’d crawled into bed with her and that was that. He was the first man to make love to her without using force. The feelings she’d felt for Brandon had been instantaneous. He’d wanted her and he’d told her she was beautiful.

And you believed the idiot. A complete stranger. Don’t forget that. You can’t afford to make friends right now. Not when you’re so close to finishing what you’ve started.

“I’m sorry,” Dwayne said, mistaking her hesitation as disinterest. “I know this might seem sudden, but it’s not. I noticed you months ago when you first came to work for Ecco. It just took me this long because, well, look at me.”

She did look at him—again—but this time she let her gaze drift a little south and then north.

“I’m not exactly God’s gift to women.”

He’s a twit. Dwayne Roth wants what every other man wants—to get inside your pants. Turn around, get in your car, and drive away.

“I guess you did kind of catch me off guard,” she told him.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. It’s clear I’ve made you uncomfortable. I never intended to jeopardize our friendship by asking you out. Maybe we should pretend this never happened.”

“No,” Jenny blurted. “I would love to go to a movie with you.”

“Really?”

“Definitely. When were you thinking?”

The hopeful and excited look on his face was endearing.

Are you kidding me! Wake up and smell the oxytocin.

“How about Saturday afternoon?”

Today was Friday. “Tomorrow?”

No way! You have a kill list to finish off.

“Too soon?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No, not at all. Saturday is fine.”

You’re a fool.

“I’ll pick you up at six for dinner. Do you like Mexican food?”

“That sounds perfect. Do you know where I live?”

Don’t do it. Don’t tell him where you live.

“Having your address would be helpful if I’m going to pick you up.” He patted his pockets. “No pen or paper. I ran out of my office so fast, I didn’t bring my cell phone, either.”

Meet him at the theater. Don’t give him your address.

She reached into her purse, shuffled around until she found a slip of paper to write her address and telephone number on. Then she handed it to him.

“You’ve made my day, Jenny Pickett. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

CHAPTER 33

Hayley crouched low, kept hidden beneath a wall of brush. The beams of his headlights shot past the top of her head as he pulled his car into the parking lot of the apartment complex.

For over a month now she’d been watching three different men, all rapists, all let out on parole much too soon. This guy, Paul, was the oldest and the most dangerous. He lured young girls in with his quick wit and charming good looks. He was like a bright beacon of light on cold, windy nights like tonight. He went after young girls who were homeless or had run away from their troubled homes, and then
ZAP
; they didn’t know what hit them until it was too late.

According to RAINN—the Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network—54 percent of rapes were never reported. Only three out of every one hundred rapists spent time in prison. The odds were almost always in the rapist’s favor.

Once Hayley was sure he went to his apartment alone, she would go home and come back another night. It was almost one in the morning. Usually Paul returned home closer to midnight.

She watched him climb out of his car.

Hayley couldn’t see anyone else inside the vehicle. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until she exhaled and released some tension. She watched him walk to his apartment on the bottom floor, unlock the door, and head inside. The kitchen light went on.

Hayley stood, stretched her legs. She was about to head off when the guy walked outside again and headed back for the car.

What the hell?

Only half-hidden now, she held still, didn’t move a muscle. It was dark enough that he wouldn’t see her unless he allowed enough time for his eyes to adjust to the dark. The few outside lights surrounding the apartment building had either gone out eons ago or someone had broken the bulb for the hell of it. It was a building filled with degenerates. Even if neighbors took the time to look out their windows to see what Almost Dead was up to, they wouldn’t give a shit. He had nothing to worry about, which was why he remained focused on the task at hand. Just another night for the guy . . .

He opened the back door and scooped up a young girl who had passed out in the backseat. Then he turned, used his foot to shut the car door, and headed back into his apartment.

Fuck.

Although she watched these losers for this very reason, she really wasn’t in the mood for an altercation. It wasn’t that she minded kicking his ass—quite the opposite. If anything, she was afraid of what she might do to the guy. If his probation officer could watch some of the worst offenders just a little bit closer, she wouldn’t be here now, taking care of business.

She pulled out her baton, extended it fully, practiced a few moves, and then put it away. She checked the sheaths at her ankles. Knives were in place. She craved a smoke, but there was no time for that. As she walked toward his apartment, she wondered for a moment if he had any idea, any inkling at all, that he was almost dead.