Back Before Dark (27 page)

P
erfect. Predictable. He watched the kid in the hooded sweatshirt pace along the parking lot to the entrance of the park, then turn around and head back toward his bike.

This was going to work. He’d have himself a double. Hammer and the police department would frantically search for him. They’d play his game whether they wanted to or not.

He’d do things a little differently this time. He had stolen a four-door Honda instead of a minivan. It would attract less attention, and would work just as well. The taser was still fair game, but he’d approach the kid by foot. The steady rain would muffle his footsteps and cover his tracks. If he did it right, the kid would never hear him coming. And he would do it right. He adjusted his baseball cap and pressed his fake beard against his face.

The kid stopped near his bike and pulled out his phone. It looked like he had started texting. Good. The kid would be even more distracted.

“Okay, kid.” He flexed his hands inside thin leather gloves. “You’re at the park. Let’s play a game.”

He dialed off the dome light so it wouldn’t turn on—and opened the door.

H
iro heard Gordy’s phone chirp. She grabbed it with both hands and opened the message. Her eyes flew over the words—her hands trembling.

Gordy-Sometimes rescuing a friend from darkness means going in after them. I totally get that. Hang on. I’m coming.

“What are you doing, Coop! What are you
thinking?
”

She tried to focus. What did it
mean
? How was he “going in” after Gordy?

A sense of doom shrouded her. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.

She stabbed in Coop’s number. He answered on the first ring.

“Gordy?” His voice was almost a whisper.

Hiro cringed. She hadn’t even thought of Gordy’s name coming up on Cooper’s phone display. “No—Hiro. I’ve had Gordy’s phone since … that night. Where are you—and what are you planning?”

A pause.

“Coop, talk to me. I’m scared.”

“Me too.”

His words sent a shiver right through her. “Where are you?”

“Kimball Hill Park.”

That didn’t make sense. She looked out her bedroom window
even though she couldn’t see the park. “What are you doing
there
? It’s pouring.”

Another pause. Not a good sign.

“What are you doing? Tell me, Coop! Tell
me
.”

“Going in after Gordy.”

Hiro tugged at her braid. Gordy was gone.
Dead.
Had he finally accepted that? Lunk’s question about suicide flashed in her mind. “What does that mean?”

But what else could it mean? She tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear, slipping her shoes on. She had to keep him talking. Distracted. Give her time to get there. “Coop—are you there?” She had to know what she was dealing with. “Do you have a weapon—a knife or something?”

“My dad’s dive knife. Razor blades.”

No.
This was worse than she thought. She had to stop him. “You don’t need to do this. Let’s talk about it.”

“Too late for talking, Hiro.”

God, no
! Had he already cut himself? “It’s never too late, Coop. Tell me
exactly
where you’re at.”

A pause. “By Jewel. Where Gordy was taken.”

This was bad.
Really
bad. He’d lost his will to live. Couldn’t deal with his guilt. He’d gone back to the park—to the scene of Gordy’s abduction. He was going to end it all there. “Listen, Coop. You’re just thinking about yourself here—you’re not thinking straight at all. There’s always another way. You don’t have to do this. Not tonight.”

“Sorry, Hiro. I have to try. Gordy may not have much time. I can’t wait until tomorrow. If this guy is going to crawl out from under his rock, he’s going to do it at night.”

Hiro pressed the phone closer to her ear.
What
? That made no sense. “Just exactly what are you planning to do?

“Bait the kidnapper.”

Hiro froze. The room started spinning. He was trying to get
himself
kidnapped.
Hoping that would lead him to Gordy so he could help him escape.

“That’s insane! You’re over your head, Coop.”

“I know. But so is Gordy. I love him too much not to try.”

Tears started down her cheeks. “What about me? If something happens to you, how am I supposed to handle that?”

Coop gave a hollow laugh. “Now who’s thinking about themselves?”

She grabbed her hoodie and rushed down the hall. Her mom still wasn’t home yet. “Do you see anyone suspicious?”

“I’m keeping my back to the lot so I
don’t
see. But I
feel
something—someone.”

Hiro let out a frustrated scream. “Get out of there, Coop. Get out now. I have a
really
bad feeling about this.”

“Listen to me,” Coop said. His voice desperate. “If I’m …
taken
, call Hammer. This guy is close by. In that area I circled on the map. I’m sure of it. And—gggggrrraaaaaaaaaaaaahhh”

She pressed the phone against her ear. “Cooper!” Nothing. “COOPER!”

Think, Hiro. Think. Keep your head.
She phoned Detective Hammer. Explained as fast as she could get the words out.

“On it,” Detective Hammer said.

“Do I still call 9-1-1?”

“I’ve got it. You’re done.” He disconnected immediately.

“Done
?
I’m done
?” she whispered, dialing Lunk at the same time. Her hands were shaking. Tears blurred her vision, but she rummaged through the catch-all drawer in the kitchen. Pulled out a pocket flashlight.

“Hiro?” The concern in Lunk’s voice was unmistakable.

“Coop’s been
taken
,” she said, wailing. “He made himself bait. Meet me at Kimball Hill Park—where we lost Gordy.”

“I’m leaving now!”

“And Lunk—bring your bat.”

C
ooper felt himself being half dragged, half carried to a vehicle. Not a minivan. Four door. Compact. The pain was gone, but the raw memory of it clawed at his insides. He felt weak. Powerless. Dizzy.

“Wrists together or I’ll do it again.” The voice—more like a hoarse whisper. Like the guy was trying to disguise his voice—or totally creep him out.

Either way, it worked.

Cooper obeyed immediately, holding his hands out in front of him. The man looped a nylon zip tie around Cooper’s wrists and whipped it tight. Gloved hands lifted and pushed him onto the second seat. Tubular sand bags were already there—in the way.

“Floor.”

The hands forced him to the rubber mats in front of the rear seat—face down. A crushing weight followed. He’d rolled a sand bag on him. Then a second—pinning his head and upper body down tight. A third bag rolled onto his legs.

He couldn’t move. Could hardly breathe. Didn’t dare cry out, afraid the weight wouldn’t allow him to draw another breath.

Door slammed. Car lurched forward.

Gotta think. Remember the plan.

Cooper started the count in his head.
One-thousand-one. One-thousand-two.
Tried to think which way the car had been facing. Had to be east.

One-thousand-six.
Driving behind the Jewel.

One-thousand-seven.
Felt the weight shift slightly—the blood moving to his head. He was turning left. North. Has to be on Meadow.

One-thousand-nine. One-thousand-ten.
Car wasn’t speeding. Probably at the speed limit. The weight pressed his head against the mat. He felt every vibration of the engine. The street. Heard the sound of water spraying against the wheel wells.

One-thousand-thirteen. One-thousand-fourteen. One-thousand-fifteen.
He felt a slight shift again. They were turning left down School Drive. It was the same route. The exact same route he had taken Gordy.

One-thousand-eighteen. One-thousand-nineteen.
Car slowing. Stopped. Moving again. Had to be the stop sign at Campbell. But they were still going straight on School Drive. He never turned off it. They were right in the circle Cooper had drawn on the satellite map.

One-thousand-twenty-five.
Felt his fingers. His phone was gone, but no way could he get to the one taped to his calf or inside the pocket of his sweatshirt. That would have to wait. But he’d have a good idea where he was when he got his hands on one of the two phones he had left.

One-thousand-thirty-three. Thirty-four. Thirty-five.
Slowing again. Turning. Blood to head. Left turn—taking it slow. Slight bump. Pulling onto a driveway? The car crept forward. The tapping of the rain disappeared. They were in a garage! They were on School Drive, or Lark Court. At one of the homes that bordered Salt Creek.

Exactly where the homes of Raymond Proctor and Joseph Stein were located.

If his heart beat any faster, he’d explode. No wonder the minivan
disappeared. From the moment he’d abducted Gordy, the spider had crawled back under his rock in less than a minute.

Ignition off. The sound of a garage door closing—and the driver’s door opening.

Cooper wiggled his fingers. Toes. Everything worked. He hoped his plan would too.

T
he side door opened, and Cooper felt the man clamp something onto his ankle. A shackle? The chinking sound of a heavy chain confirmed his fears. The man yanked the chain hard, like he wanted to make sure it held. The shackle bit into his leg.

Cooper felt weight coming off his body. One sand bag. Two. And finally the one that pinned his head in place.

“Ease out. I still have the taser.”

Cooper wriggled his way out of the car, trying not to let his pants hike up. If the guy saw the dive knife—or the phone—it was all over.

He ended up on his knees on the concrete floor of the garage. Cooper kept his head down to avoid all eye contact. He didn’t want the guy to think he was trying to ID him—because he wasn’t. All he wanted to do was find Gordy. Help him break free. Phone the police. Hammer could catch the monster.

“Stand.” The man tugged upwards on Cooper’s sweatshirt and turned on a flashlight.

Cooper braced his bound hands on the side of the car and used it to boost to a standing position.

He needed to cooperate. Do exactly what he was told without hesitation. Not give the guy a reason to zap him again.

The kidnapper’s light swept through the garage once, like he was checking to make sure he wasn’t missing some little detail of his plan. Cooper got a glimpse of the car he’d just been abducted in—and the one parked next to it—a silver minivan.
Okay. Okay.
Whoever this was, it definitely wasn’t a copycat kidnapping. This was the same guy who took Gordy. And it was a two-car garage. Stein’s was a single. But it could be Proctor’s. Cooper fought back a sense of panic.

Some kind of generator sat on the concrete floor with a cord running up to the garage door opener. The guy brought his own power—which likely meant the house didn’t have any.

Cooper’s mind raced. With no electricity, the house was likely empty. For sale. Maybe a bank foreclosure and the utilities had been turned off. There were a bunch of them in the area the abduction took place.
Why didn’t he think of it sooner?

“House.” The man looped the chain around Cooper’s neck to get it off the floor. He turned Cooper and pointed to a door leading out of the garage. The fact that the guy deliberately disguised his voice was a good sign. If the guy intended to kill him, why bother hiding his identity?

The man prodded Cooper forward with the flashlight. Cooper’s own shadow blocked the beam and a clear view of the ground in front of him. His steps seemed jerky, unsteady. It didn’t help that the taser had turned his legs to rubber.

Cooper stepped inside the house. Obviously a kitchen, but no refrigerator—or stove. No electricity or appliances visible? Definitely a foreclosure of some sort.

If the man left him alone for a minute, Cooper could cut the nylon tie—but not before finding Gordy. The man’s gloved hand reached over Cooper’s shoulder and pointed to a door with latch and padlock attached. A moment later the man had the padlock off and swung open the door. “Move.”

Cooper took a step forward and immediately froze. Black basement. Filling with black water. The would-be prison was
flooding.

He wanted to run. Pull the knife and slash his way out of the house.

The beam of the kidnapper’s flashlight glinted off the surface, barely penetrating the water already covering half the stairs.

The man swore.

Apparently, he had just noticed the water.

He swore again and pushed Cooper toward the basement. Cooper descended four steps and stopped just above the water. The man shoved him forward—Cooper flew into the icy water.

His breath came in ragged gasps, the water nearly at his waist. Cold daggers stabbed at his feet, legs. The beam of the kidnapper’s flashlight swept the room and landed on Gordy—sitting in a double slop-sink, squinting, covering his eyes with the back of his hands. His upper body was tucked on one side of the sink, his legs in the other. A chain snaked off his leg and disappeared in the dark water.

“Gordy!” Cooper sloshed toward his cousin, creating a wake behind him. “Gordy, it’s me, Coop!”

Gordy kept his hands over his eyes.

Cooper reached the edge of the tub. Gordy was soaking wet, but he wasn’t shivering. “Gordy.” Cooper pulled Gordy’s hand away from his face.

His arm felt cold.

Gordy squinted. “Wha?”

Cooper threw his arms around him. He was
really
cold. “It’s me. You okay?”

He heard the man wading through the water behind him.

“No hot water.” Gordy slurred his words. Tried to point to the faucet, but pointed to the drain instead. “Can’t find the game room.”

“Gordy!” Cooper put a hand on either side of his cousin’s face. “Gordy. It’s me. Coop.”

Gordy’s face scrunched up like he was trying to figure something out. Dark circles rounded his sunken eyes.

Cooper whirled to face his kidnapper. “He’s got hypothermia!”

The man swore again and brushed past Cooper. He whipped off a glove, felt Gordy’s face. Immediately the man shoved the light toward Cooper. “Give me some light on his ankle.”

Cooper took the light and did the best he could to keep it on Gordy’s ankle, despite his own violent shivering. A large metal shackle and antique padlock connected him to the chain that disappeared into the water.

“I’m going to let you both go,” the man said, digging into his pocket. His glove kept catching, so he pulled that one off too and tried again. “This whole thing was a game. One I was playing with the police—especially Detective Hammer. Nobody was to get hurt.” He pulled out a copper-colored key. Maybe an inch or so long with a round head and a leather wrist strap tied through it.

The man poked Cooper in the chest with it. “Once I unlock him, I’ll help you get him to the stairs and I’ll leave. You wait five minutes before you follow. Got that?
Five
minutes.”

Cooper nodded.

“You go to a neighbor’s house, ring the bell, and get an ambulance for your friend. He’ll be okay.”

Cooper wasn’t sure the guy really believed Gordy would be fine—or if he was just trying to convince himself of it. But if Cooper didn’t get help—fast, Gordy could go into shock.

“It was just a game. You tell Hammer he isn’t as smart as he thinks he is. You tell him he wasn’t any closer to solving this case than he was the night it happened. He lost. I won.” The man fumbled with the key, drove it into the lock, and twisted, releasing the U-shaped shackle. The flashlight glinted off the man’s ring—a skull—wearing a crown. Now Cooper’s stomach did the twisting. It was the global gamer—Tyler King—the
Deathking.

Suddenly, King spun his ring the other way and closed his fist around it—obviously realizing his mistake. His eyes met Cooper’s, and in that instant—Cooper knew. The game just changed.