Between Midnight and Dawn (13 page)

Anger stiffened her spine, hardening into fury as she shoved away her fear and grief. That son of a bitch wanted
her
, not Sheryl. Maybe she could get him out in the open so he could be caught if she used herself as bait.

That thought sent chills through her, but she pressed her lips firmly together, determined to do whatever she had to in order to get her friend back.

Lifting her head, she glanced out the front window to see Rob and Dean talking near their cars. Rob’s tense posture indicated a barely controlled rage. His fists tightly clenched at his sides, his wild expression clearly gave away his distress. And in that instant, she knew that Sheryl meant more to him than just a casual date. And she’d need that, because Kyle wasn’t going to like what she had to say.

Or do.

Back at the Sheriff’s Department, Rob sat in one of the hard-backed chairs surrounding the long, square table in the squad room, elbows resting on his knees as he stared into his now-empty coffee cup. Images of Sheryl bounced around in his head, mocking his ability to protect her. The photos on Nicole’s cellphone showed Sheryl strapped to a table by thick leather bindings wrenched tight across her chest and ankles, her blouse nearly torn from her body, left wearing nothing but a simple beige bra. But she at least still had on her skirt, although it’d been bunched near her thighs.

His jaw locked.

The horror reflected in her eyes enraged him. The knowledge that she was even now being abused as he sat here unable to help her, totally messed with his mind.

He brought his hand up and rubbed his tired eyes. It was early morning, and they’d spent most of the night searching the types of areas known to be C.H.K.’s dumping grounds. Nothing. Much to his relief. As long as they didn’t find her dead body, there was hope.

Rob lifted his head and met Dean’s worried gaze, and spoke the words no one wanted to acknowledge. “He’s going to kill her.”

There was no way the sick freak was going to let her live. As soon as he was done playing with her, using her to terrorize Nicole with the fact that he had her friend, he’d take her out along a road somewhere in the middle of the night and slit her throat. Rob’s hands tightened around the ceramic cup, cracking it.

With a curse, he let loose of the damaged cup and fisted his hands on top of the table, lowering his head as he tried to get his act together. His shoulders ached with tension.

The bruises he’d seen marring her flesh would forever be burned in his brain. Long angry welts, like flashing neon lights, shone bright against her alabaster skin; soft, delicate skin meant only for sweet kisses and tender caresses.

He’d recognized the marks, the same ones as the murdered women whose pictures plastered his wall. The emotional cauldron eating him alive was not conducive to the investigation, but he’d be damned if he was going to back away. He would find her.

“Damn it, Dean.” He lifted his head, leaning back into the chair and raking both hands through his hair.

They’d met for lunch yesterday, popping into an afternoon matinee for some chick flick she wanted to see. He didn’t care what they’d watched, he had just wanted to spend more time with her, hold her hand for a few hours. Totally smitten by now, he knew she’d make a huge impact on his life if he gave it a chance. But afterward, when she’d invited him back to her place, he’d turned her down. Rob had wanted to put the case to bed before becoming too involved with her.

Big mistake.

Regret lay heavy in his chest. “If I’d gone home with her like she’d asked, this wouldn’t have happened. I would have been there to stop him from taking her.”

“Is she your woman, Rob?”

“No.” A wry smile tugged at his lips, remembering her cute advances. She’d been into him, but he’d kept her at arms’ distance, even though he’d wanted her.
Shit.
He should have taken her up on her sexy offer, instead of allowing himself only one small taste. One kiss, to hold him over until next time.

“But as soon as we get her back, I plan to remedy that.”

He had wanted to be a gentleman, letting her know it was about more than sex. But if he’d stayed, she’d be safe in his arms right now where she belonged, and not in the hands of a killer.

Dean took a seat in the chair across from him. “You know, she’s going to be in a bad place when we get her back. She’ll need a lot of care.”

“I’ll have that covered.” And he would. He’d be there for her every step of the way, no matter what she endured at Barber’s hands. He’d get her through it.

Rob now understood how Kyle had felt all these years. Because he wanted this mother fuck. Wanted him bad. Wanted to rip him apart with his bare hands. Depending on whether he’d raped Sheryl or not, he might just put a bullet through the man’s brain.

As if reading his thoughts, Dean leaned forward. “Don’t do anything stupid, Catalino.”

Rob made no promises. “Any news on the photo yet?”

If they’d managed to catch Barber’s image on the video camera, they’d at least be able to obtain a search warrant, potentially discover the location where he was holding Sheryl, and hopefully find her alive.

Nicole had offered herself up as bait for Barber. Draw him out. But Kyle had quite forcefully nixed that idea. Not that he blamed him. But he’d never seen his friend so out of control as he’d been over the idea of Nicole placing herself in harm’s way. Not even when his mother’s body was discovered. That night, Kyle had drawn into himself, rage and pain settling over him like a second skin. Nothing like the eruption of emotions he’d displayed when Nicole offered to put herself in danger to get Sheryl back.

Didn’t matter that Kyle had started out using her as bait himself. Seems things had changed. Rob was beginning to suspect that his friend was in love with her.

Dean drummed his fingers on the table. “We should know if the photo pans out by the end of the day.”

Rob’s gut twisted as a surge of adrenaline raced through him. That wasn’t good enough. They’d needed it yesterday, before Sheryl had been taken. He banged his fist down on the table with enough force to make the legs wobble as he struggled to hold it together.

Jones burst into Dean’s office. “Hey. I thought you’d want to know. They picked up Allan Barber about twenty minutes ago, and are bringing him in for questioning.”

Chapter 13

“You’ve got nothing to hold me on.” Barber flashed a cocky grin toward where Kyle and Rob stood, watching through the two-way mirror into the interrogation room, as though the arrogant prick knew they were there. Which he probably did, given he was an ex-cop.

Not appearing fazed, Dean said calmly, “I can hold you for twenty-four hours.” He leaned forward, staring Barber directly in the eyes. “But you might get out sooner if you cooperate. Tell me everything you did yesterday, starting from the moment you woke up, to when you went to bed last night.”

Barber leaned back, crossing one ankle over the other, his hands resting in his lap, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. Totally relaxed, like he was one of Port Huron’s most upstanding citizens. Instead of the sick freak Kyle knew him to be.

“I already told you.”

Dean shrugged. “Tell me again.”

Kyle could feel the tension rolling off Rob in angry waves, the fury in his partner’s eyes enough to give him pause, wondering which one of them would be the first to rush inside to beat the truth out of the guy. Barber knew exactly how the game was played. The witness hadn’t been able to identify him in the line-up, although he’d said that Barber’s build was right. Reaching out, he flipped the switch to shut off the audio and turned toward his best bud. “You okay, man?”

His face cut in stone, Rob’s steel-gray eyes shone with fury. “He has her stashed somewhere, Kyle.” His lower jaw slid back and forth as he gritted out through his teeth, “She’s alone out there. Terrified. Injured . . . or worse.”

It didn’t take a genius to know Rob had strong feelings for Sheryl. Kyle’s gut twisted at the thought of how he’d feel if it were Nicole missing right now, instead of safe at home under police guard.

Knowing that the son of a bitch sitting less than twenty feet from them knew where to find Sheryl was hard to take. He didn’t think he’d have the same control Rob was showing. No. He’d probably be in there right now holding his gun to the man’s head until he got the answers he wanted.

“Other than my mother, Barber’s kept the women alive for up to a week.” A fist squeezed his heart, as it always did when he thought about his mother’s murder, followed by a burst of anger. “I don’t see him changing his M.O. now.”

“Not true.” Rob balled his hands into fists. “He’s already broken his M.O. Sheryl isn’t his usual type. All have been petite redheads with big brown eyes and full curves.” He shot an agonized look toward Kyle. “Like Nicole.” His mouth pressed tight, before he continued, “Sheryl’s tall, slim, blond . . .” He turned to glare through the two-way glass again, and said quietly, “Pretty green eyes a man could drown in.”

“As long as we can hold him, he can’t hurt her,” Kyle said as he flipped the audio back on.

“—talk to my lawyer,” Barber was saying.

Kyle frowned. Not an unexpected demand, but it still sucked. Without saying a word, Dean slid back his chair and stood, exiting the room. It took him less than a minute to enter the room where he and Rob waited.

Rob was the first to speak. “Did you learn anything useful?”

Dean shook his head. “No. He states he’s got a girlfriend who lives nearby and that’s why he’s in the area, and that they spent the entire day together. Rudy’s heading out to bring her in right now. I suspect she’ll lie for him, or he wouldn’t have used her as his alibi.”

“How long before his attorney springs him, ya think?” Kyle asked, watching as a uniformed officer entered the interrogation room and led Barber out.

Rob growled when Barber had the nerve to lift his handcuffed wrists, flicking a cocky salute at the mirror as he lazily strolled past it. When Rob swore and made a move toward the door, Dean blocked his way, shaking his head. “That’s not going to help us find Sheryl.”

Hands fisted at his sides, Rob muttered a curse. Spinning around, he paced to the opposite end of the room, pausing to punch the wall. Twice. Leaning forward, he rested both hands on the wall, his head lowered as he took a couple deep breaths. The room was quiet as they waited for Rob to get it together. After only a minute or two, he straightened and walked back over to them, shaking out the hand he’d hit the wall with.

“Feel better?” Kyle asked, arching one brow.

“Fuck you,” Rob returned, though a ghost of a smile played around his lips, his posture more relaxed.

“Okay,” Dean said soberly, “now that you’ve got that out of your system”—he shoved a piece of paper at them—“check with these places to see if Barber was there, like he claims.”

Kyle took the paper. “And if we can’t find confirmation he was?”

Dean scowled. “His lawyer just showed up, and I have no doubt he’ll have him out by the end of the day. So the clock’s a-tickin’. Find me something to hold him on.”

“Yeah, got it.” Kyle studied the list, and it was short. Only a couple stops during the day, one at a local Applebee’s restaurant for lunch, then a walk in the park near the lake. A waste of effort on their part, and Barber knew it.

He met his partner’s turbulent gaze. “These are bullshit. But we’ll check them out, then head over to Sheryl’s condo.” Besides the guy who’d seen them briefly getting into the elevator, there had to be other witnesses. “It was broad daylight, for Christ’s sake. No way he got her outside without someone in the neighborhood noticing them.”

Rob nodded. “Could be they’re afraid to come forward, or don’t realize they witnessed an abduction. Who knows? But we need to find ‘em before Barber’s slimy lawyer gets him out.”

By the tense lines on Rob’s face, he was thinking the same thing Kyle was. If Barber did get released, his best bet would be to kill Sheryl and dispose of her body.

“I need you to get me the hell out of here, Patrick,” Allan said calmly. “That’s why I pay you the big bucks.” His tone hardened as he ground out, “Now earn your fucking money.”

He placed his hands on the table between him and his overpriced attorney as anger built inside him. Glaring at the man, he clenched his fists as his thoughts wandered to the blond he’d left bruised and nearly naked at his cabin. A smirk crept onto his face. Everyone was out looking for her, but they wouldn’t find her. She was too well hidden.

Stupid morons.
They thought they had him. But he wasn’t anyone’s fool, and had been at the game long enough to know how to avoid arrest.

He’d been outsmarting them for over two decades, and he’d continue to outsmart them. That was part of the fun. Of course, it’d become a little harder when he’d been forced to retire, and no longer had access to the data so he could manipulate the records.

But he’d perfected his game years ago. He knew how to remain under the radar. As far as the cops knew, he was only here visiting his girlfriend. They wouldn’t be able to prove otherwise.

“I told you, Allan. I can’t get you released until later this afternoon, when I see the judge.”

“Not good enough,” Allan snarled, spittle flying onto the table between them. “I want out now!”

He needed to get rid of the blonde, just in case . . . But first, he wanted to send Nicole another message. Then he’d find a secluded spot to slit her friend’s throat. His smirk curved into a full-fledged grin, thinking of the possibilities.

Hell, maybe he’d snap some photos of Buttercup as she bled out. That’d teach Nicole who was boss here, and it wasn’t her or fucking Wade.

“What’s so amusing?” Patrick asked, wariness entering his voice.

Allan wasn’t sure if his attorney believed he was the killer or not, although his suspicions were that the man wasn’t totally convinced of his innocence. But if he paid the prick enough money, he knew the guy would do whatever it took to get him released . . .

“Get me the hell out of here,” Allan said, leaning in to stare coldly at the man. “There’s a big fat bonus in it if you get me out sooner.”

A look of interest entered Patrick’s eyes. “How big a bonus?”

“Big.”

His attorney studied him for a long moment before standing, giving him a quick nod. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Nothing,” Rob said. “None of the employees at Applebee’s remembered seeing Barber or his girlfriend. You?”

Kyle shook his head. No surprise there. They’d both known Barber was full of it when he’d made the statement. A weak alibi, but one hard to disprove.

“Let’s fan out. I’ll take the left side of the street, you take the right. We’ll come back and tackle the other condos in her building.”

Rob glanced at his watch. “Okay, but it’s nearly one. We need to find something before Barber gets sprung.”

“Let’s get moving.”

The day was bright and sunny. Medium-sized homes and two four-plex condominium units lined the street, all with neatly trimmed lawns. Forty-five minutes, and six houses later, Kyle was extremely frustrated. Nothing. Zilch. It seemed everyone in the area stayed indoors with their curtains drawn.

Whatever happened to neighborhood watches or even just keeping an eye out for your neighbors? How someone could walk into the middle of a nice residential neighborhood and calmly walk out with a semi-conscious woman was mind-boggling, and sad.

As he approached the next house on the block, he spotted a couple teenage boys skateboarding down the street. One of the kids had a cell phone and he was taking pictures. Kyle held up his badge and waved them over.

The boys skated toward him, sliding in with matching arcs and kicking their skateboards into the air with a flick of their heels, then catching the boards in their hands. Very cool, actually.

“Yeah,” the older of the two boys said sullenly. He shoved his cell phone into his back pocket. “We in trouble or something?”

“No.” Kyle held up a photo of Sheryl. “You two know this woman?”

“Sure,” the younger boy said, a younger version of the older kid. “She lives across the street from us. Nice lady. Why? She in some kind of trouble?”

Kyle shook his head, figuring the boys were brothers. “She’s missing.”

“Aww, that’s too bad,” the older boy said. “But we ain’t seen her.”

“Nope.” His younger brother shook his head. “Last I seen her was a week or so ago when I helped her carry some groceries up to her place.”

“What are your names?” Kyle asked.

“I’m Nick,” the older kid said, nodding toward his younger brother. “This is Wesley.”

Kyle held out his hand. “I’m Kyle. It’s nice to meet you, Nick.”

Nick hesitated for only a second before shaking his hand. Wesley smiled broadly and held his hand out, too, which Kyle gripped and shook firmly. They seemed like nice kids, and he needed their cooperation.

“Were you two riding your skateboards yesterday afternoon between four and five?”

They both nodded.

“Could I take a look at the pictures on your phone?”

“Why?” Wesley asked.

Nick studied Kyle for a second before reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone. “Did someone take her?” He punched the keypad, and handed the phone over to him. “You think maybe we got pictures of her kidnapper or something?”

“Wow,” Wesley said, “really?”

Kyle inspected the photos. “Something like that.”

There were a lot of pictures. Out of his peripheral vision, he noted Rob heading his way. He continued to flick through the photos, not seeing anything but pictures of the boys, each taking turns photographing the other as they skateboarded. Occasionally there’d be a photo of a pretty girl, or a cool car driving by. He was beginning to feel discouraged when he flashed across a photo that grabbed his attention. He enlarged the thumbnail image.

“Fuckin’ A,” he muttered. They had him.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through him. He’d been working toward this day most of his life. When he could bring down the motherfucker who’d murdered his mother. Grinning, he held the phone up as Rob came to a stop next to him so he could see the photo. A clear shot of Barber helping Sheryl into the front seat of his car. No missing the dazed look on her face.

Rob took the phone to study the picture, and his hand trembled slightly. His mouth pinched tight as he glanced up at the boys. “Hey, kids, we need to confiscate your phone.”

“What?” Nick said. “That’s an iPhone, man. My mom’ll kill me if I lose it.”

Kyle slid a slip of paper from his pocket. “I’m sorry, Nick, but it has evidence of a crime, and we need to download all the photos. Give me your full name, number, and your address, and I’ll personally return it in the next couple days.”

“Ahh, hell man.” But the kid rattled off the information. “My mom’s gonna totally freak.”

Rob handed Nick a business card. “If your mom has any questions, have her call me. I’ll explain everything.”

“All right, all right,” he said, tucking the card into his front pocket. “I hope you find her.”

“Yeah,” Wesley said. “Me too. She’s really cool. Sometimes she comes out to watch us skate, or brings us a soda to cool off.”

Nick nodded, his expression grim. Rob and Kyle rushed back to their cars, as Rob took his phone out and called Dean.

“Dean,” he said in a rush, “hold Barber. Don’t cut him loose. We have evidence he took Sheryl. We’re on our way in.”

When they reached their vehicles, Rob came to an abrupt stop. Kyle tensed, not liking the look of anguish crossing his friend’s face.