Between Midnight and Dawn (14 page)

BOOK: Between Midnight and Dawn
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“What is it?” His first thought was of Nicole, and her safety, quickly followed with an image of Sheryl’s body being discovered. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“Fuck!” Rob burst out, dropping the phone to the ground and fisting his hair as he continued to swear.

“Rob,” Kyle said sharply. “What the hell happened?”

Rob leaned over and braced his hands on his upper thighs, his chest heaving as he breathed in deep gulps of air, before straightening to his full height. Rigid fury took over his posture and rage boiled in his eyes.

“Barber was released fifteen minutes ago, and he somehow ditched his tail. He’s gone.”

Chapter 14

At the sound of a car entering her drive, Nicole hurried to the front window, tugged back the drapes to see Kyle getting out of his car and walking over to the police cruiser sitting in front of her home. She’d invited the two officers inside, but they’d declined, saying they could keep a better eye on things from outside.

It had been nearly twenty-four hours since Sheryl was taken by that maniac. Now, a little before six p.m., the sun was beginning to set as a breeze kicked up, brushing the treetops with a gentle flow. The tranquility of nature a stark contrast to the turmoil eating her alive.

She wasn’t sure whether to be hopeful or fearful that the man had been arrested. Where was her best friend now?

Is she dead?

No
, Nicole told herself, shaking her head in denial. She wouldn’t let herself believe that. She couldn’t.

Kyle glanced toward the house and met her gaze. At the furious glint in his eyes, she clutched the thick material in a death-grip. He turned back to speak with the other men again. The officer behind the steering wheel gave him a nod.

Kyle headed up the sidewalk.

Something’s wrong.

It showed in his every movement, the tense set of his jaw as he disappeared from her view. A moment later, he knocked on the door, but fear rooted her to the spot. The image of that woman lying in the ditch in front of her home swam before her vision. She lifted her hand to her chest, her feet glued to the floor. Kyle knocked again and called out her name.

Had that man told them he’d killed Sheryl? Was her friend even now lying in the morgue? Another wave of panic hit her as she took a tentative step forward trying to convince herself to open the door to hear what he had to say.

Another sharp rap sounded. “Baby. Open up.”

The concern in his voice finally freed her feet and she rushed over to throw open the door. Kyle entered, kicking the door shut behind him. Charlie let out a hello bark from his spot on the couch, before jumping down and heading over to his big dog pillow.

Encircling her waist with one muscular arm, Kyle tugged her firmly against him. His masculine scent enveloped her, giving her a moment of peace. His other hand cupped the back of her head, and he peered down at her with worried eyes. “You doing okay?”

She clutched the front of his shirt. “What is it?” Her voice trembled. “I can tell something’s wrong. I can see it in your eyes.” Her voice rose as the state of panic she’d been in over the last twenty-four hours escalated. “Is it Sh—”

Kyle leaned down and kissed her, halting her words. His possessive lips claimed hers in a tender caress, momentarily instilling her with a sense of calm. A brief respite from the emotions that had been eating her alive ever since she’d learned of Sheryl’s abduction. With a sigh, she leaned into him, and the security he offered.

All too soon, he broke the kiss. Tension radiated off him. Dread filled her again; afraid of what he had to say. “Is she alive?”

He nodded. “We believe so.”

“What is it?” What wasn’t he telling her?

“They released Barber late this afternoon.”

She nervously licked her lips. “Okay.” He had more to say, she could see that. “Then, what? He didn’t take her? You were wrong?”

“No. He’s got her.” His voice held a sharp edge, filled with conviction.

Frustration welled up inside her and she balled the front of his shirt tightly in her grip. “Tell me, dammit!”

Kyle’s expression grew even grimmer. He took her hands into his and murmured her name, gently kissing each of her tightly clenched fists. “We have the evidence. A couple of neighbor kids were taking pictures and they captured a photo of Sheryl getting into Barber’s car.”

Nicole shook her head. “Why would she do that? Sheryl’s always so careful.” Her friend was an outrageous flirt, true . . . But she never put herself in dangerous situations. She was a real stickler about that.

“Remember, baby, she was drugged.”

Her stomach tightened into a hard knot, her voice rising. “So re-arrest him!”

They have a warrant out on him right now.” He paused, palmed her cheek, kissed the tip of her nose. “There’s more.”

“W-What?”

“The image from the video feed from your place came back. It proves that Allan Barber killed the woman in front of your house.”

Her legs went weak, the tears she’d been able to keep at bay for most of the day while she’d tried to convince herself everything would be fine, could no longer be contained, and they streamed down her face as the magnitude of the situation slammed into her. Everything might not be okay, and there was a very good chance she’d never see her friend alive again. “Will he kill Sheryl now?”

Kyle stroked a hand down her hair as he gently said, “I don’t know.”

Grief squeezed her heart. Kyle held her in a firm embrace as she curled into him, sliding her arms around his waist. Despair washed through her.
This can’t be happening.

“Shh,” he crooned, hugging her to him. “Now that there’s proof, Dean’s requested help from the FBI. They’re arriving in the morning to assist us. We’ll find him.”

At his harsh tone, Nicole peered up at him. His gaze softened, and he gently stroked the side of her face. Taking her hand, he led her into the living room and over to the couch, tugging her down onto his lap, his arms curled around her, tucking her head under his chin.

Having him there eased her tension for the briefest of moments, and she lost herself in the tenderness of his touch. With his now-familiar scent surrounding her, a contented sigh eased from her chest as a sense of peace washed over her.

Until thoughts of Sheryl slammed back into her mind, pushing aside everything but fear for her friend. “You told me you knew who this guy was, even before all this . . . but you didn’t say how.”

The hard look that swept across Kyle’s features made her blink, and tense slightly. Even though she knew that look wasn’t meant for her, it still unnerved her to see rage twisting his features.

“What?” she asked.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, only stared off into the distance. She could see that he was struggling with something big, so she remained quiet and let him think it through. It was evident that whatever he had to say was hard for him. Still, she was shocked when he finally said, “My mother was Barber’s first victim.”

Silence filled the room for one long minute, until she was finally able to wrap her mind around his statement. Horror filled her.
This monster killed Kyle’s mother?
She tried to recall how old she’d been when she first heard of C.H.K., but it was so long ago she couldn’t remember exactly. She’d been very young. Her heart broke for him. He would have been only a boy at the time.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, bringing her hands up to frame his handsome face. The pain she read in his eyes brought another rush of tears to her eyes, but she blinked them back. Kyle needed her now, and she had to be strong for him. “That’s so awful.”

Pressing her body closer, she brushed a soft kiss across his mouth, her entire being filled with the need to soothe and comfort him. Thinking of Kyle as a little boy, and having his mother taken from him in such a horrendous way filled her with bone-deep sadness. She tenderly kissed his cheek, first one, then the other. Now it was her turn to wrap her arms tightly around him.

Nicole gave him a big hug, pressed a kiss to the middle of his broad chest before resting her head on the same spot, attempting to offer him the solace he’d provided her mere moments ago.

He sighed. A tremor ran through him as he proceeded to tell her the story of his childhood tragedy.

Hours passed as he told her everything, about his mother and how much he’d loved her. The night she was taken, and how she was found. The unfulfilled search for the killer, and his father’s slow spiral into death.

The more he talked, the more relaxed he became, as if the telling of the story was therapeutic. Nicole wondered if he’d ever talked about his pain with anyone before. She doubted it. By the time he got to the part about his reasons for becoming a police officer and his search for justice, her silent tears dampened his shirt.

The chiming of the cuckoo clock striking on the half hour, and Charlie’s snoring, were the only sounds in the room as they continued to hold each other, then fell asleep in each other’s arms as the long night stretched into morning.

Allan peered nervously into the rearview mirror. He reached up to swipe at the sweat beading at his brow as he veered onto the overgrown path leading to his property. He’d be safe here, at least for a while. Well hidden, it was only one of many properties he’d purchased under a false name using a bogus company in the Cayman Islands he’d set up years earlier, with the help of his uncle.

He’d made a bundle skimming off confiscated drug monies over his career, besides the many other lucrative avenues open to a cop willing to bend the rules a little, or a lot. It was easy enough to transfer the money back into his U.S. account using PayPal, as long as he kept it under a certain amount, and off the IRS’s radar.

Anger churned inside him. His attorney had called earlier and informed him that not only had he been photographed putting the blond in his car, they’d captured him on video when he’d killed the woman in front of Nicole’s. Two screw-ups in one week. How stupid could he get?

Sloppy. Sloppy. Sloppy.

He pounded the steering wheel.

Rookie mistakes.

He’d let Kyle Wade push his buttons, act when he should have laid low.

Hell, I deserve to get caught.

As his fury mounted, he considered turning his car around so he could go track Wade down and end him. But his need for self-preservation won out.

Too risky. Not enough time.

There wasn’t even time to drive back to the hunting cabin and take care of the woman. Didn’t really matter though, since they’d already ID’d him. His face was plastered all over television, as well as the Internet.

Besides, in the condition he’d left her, she wouldn’t last much longer. In this heat, and with no food or water, she’d be dead in a couple days. Though he regretted he hadn’t had a chance to enjoy her yet.

Ah, well. No great loss. She didn’t do it for him, not like Nicole Chambers. The washed-out blonde was a faded cardboard cutout compared to Nicole’s lush beauty. His one regret would be leaving Nicole behind.

But he needed to act quickly if he was going to get out of the country before the cops figured it out and blocked his escape. He’d be better off dead than in prison, because there was no way he was going to be some lowlife’s bitch.
No way in hell.

Retrieving his burner phone from the glove compartment, he flung it out the window. It was time to pick up a new one.

Grabbing the blonde’s phone off the seat next to him, he brought up the video clip he’d shot of her the first night, before he’d had to leave for Detroit. At least he now had some cash on hand to get him by until he could get into his accounts.

He chuckled as he watched it, taking pleasure in her fearful whimpers. Pressing the forward key, he found Nicole’s cell number and hit ‘send.’ Rolling down his window, he also tossed that cell into the weeds along the side of the road.

With the clues he’d left, they’d spend considerable resources looking for the property where they expected to find her. Not that they would. She would die, and they’d never realize how close they’d come.

Stupid bastards. While they were spinning their wheels, he’d hightail it out of the country . . . or die trying. And if death turned out to be his only option? Well, at least it’d been one helluva a ride.

But before he went out in a blaze of glory, he wanted to spend his last few hours fucking Wade’s woman. And if he was lucky enough to put a bullet in the man’s head, all the better.

Rob glared across the conference room table at Paul Ramsey, the asshole from the FBI.
This was the guy they’d sent to assist in the case?
The man didn’t give a crap about Sheryl. His only concern seemed to be locating Barber. By the glimmer of excitement in his eyes every time he mentioned The Clove Hitch Killer, Rob figured that Ramsey was counting on the notoriety of capturing C.H.K. to boost his lousy career. That was this clown’s top priority. As plain to see as the huge nose on his ugly mug.

Shoving his chair back from the table, Rob stood, glancing over to Kyle who had the same pissed-off look as he was feeling. It’d been three days since Sheryl’s abduction, and they still didn’t have a clue where to start looking.

Understanding his silent question, Kyle nodded, getting to his feet. They’d take whatever information the FBI wanted to share, but it was clear that they were on their own in finding Sheryl and getting her back.

He
would
get her back. Then Rob was going to tear the guy apart, slowly and painfully. He’d feed the bastard’s pieces to the pigs he’d spotted at a farm on the way over here.

A vein throbbed near his temple, fury storming through him with a torrential force at the thought of Barber laying his filthy hands on her. Nausea swirled in his gut, knowing that she was probably hurt already, badly.
I’ll be lucky to find her alive.

He shoved that thought down deep, pivoting toward the door. Sitting in here listening to this jackoff wasn’t going to get her back. But at least with the resources the FBI had to offer, they had a better chance of tracking Barber down.

One of the younger agents, Jason, who appeared to be in his late twenties with close-cropped hair and a steady demeanor, stood and walked them to the door. “Listen. If I hear anything of importance, I’ll contact you. What’re your cell numbers?”

Rob thanked the man before rattling off their numbers. It was nice to know not everyone with the FBI were total assholes. They exited the building and headed toward Rob’s shiny black Ford Mustang Sedan.

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