HARD FAL (23 page)

She shook her head. It took everything she had to meet his gaze. “No, sir. It’s a warning. You might want to distance yourself. Because I will get Taylor back. And I will stop this subject. Whatever it takes.”

<><><>

ONCE HE WAS
ready, Seth pulled his and June’s cell phones out of the special bag and box and turned them on. It was a short hike to the dam and he wanted Daddy to follow him every step of the way.

Unlike Seth’s previous quarries, Daddy would be expecting a trap. Fine with Seth. He wasn’t planning to get away with murder, not this time. All he needed was to close the distance enough to get a few well-placed shots off.

He was betting on the fact that after trying to have Seth killed earlier today, Daddy wouldn’t be able to resist finishing the job face to face.

Megan’s phone sounded again. Lucy. Again. He’d listened to her messages, felt bad about Taylor, but really what more could he do besides what he was already doing? He sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the phone. He should be moving, but his body was suddenly sapped of energy and it was all he could do to keep from dropping the phone.

He’d left a message for June in the glove compartment, but there was a chance no one would find it. It was too late for Lucy to stop his plan, so he answered.

“I’m going to finish this,” he said by way of greeting.

“I know. But Taylor shouldn’t pay the price. That’s not what you’re about, not why you killed those men.”

He didn’t have an answer for that, almost hung up, when she said, “I checked the police reports. Each of them had images from the Baby Girl collection in their possession. Images that we’ve never seen before. The autopsies say those men were tortured, water boarded, before they died. I know that wasn’t for fun. Not even for revenge.”

“I needed information and it was the fastest way. Don’t you think for one moment that I enjoyed it—”

“Of course not. Those men were stalking you and June, threatening your family.”

“He told them to. Sent them after us. Gave them special access to his private collection. Sick, twisted bastard. He’s not getting away with it. Not again.”

“You turned your phones back on. He’ll know it’s a trap.”

“Even without Taylor, sounds like you’re getting along just fine.”

“Not really. He left his computer behind.”

“He was tracking our phones?”

“Yes. I can be at your location in forty minutes. Will you wait for me? Or at least let me negotiate something with Daddy to save Taylor?”

“Negotiate? No such thing. Not with him. He takes what he wants and doesn’t give a shit about the rest of the world.”

“Know how he got Taylor?” Her voice snagged as if she was in pain. “I was lining up a shot to take down Daddy and save Taylor when Daddy lit his latest victim, little Missy Barstow, on fire. I had to make a choice, Seth. And Taylor knew—he watched me choose Missy. I abandoned my man, Seth. You have to give me a chance to get him back.”

He closed his eyes and pressed his free hand against his face, trying to block out the image that she described. “Is she okay? The little girl?”

“She’s alive. I don’t know if she’ll ever be okay.”

Seth’s chest tightened as he held his breath. Lucy waited on the other end of the line. Finally he could take it no longer. He blew his breath out and with it his last hope.

“What did you have in mind?”

Chapter 31

HE HAD NO
idea why the Feds left the ER, hell left the entire city behind, to drive up a mountain near Latrobe. But if it led him to his payoff, he’d keep following.

To avoid being spotted on the deserted rural roads, he had to stay far behind them once they turned off the main highway, but the tracker was doing its job, so he was only about twelve minutes out when they finally came to a stop. Finding a hiding place for the SUV while he performed his recon was more difficult, but the storm helped as did a muddy logging road about a quarter of a mile down the mountain from his target.

The rain didn’t bother him—it made for better concealment. He secured his weapons so they’d stay as dry as possible but still be accessible. A Desert Eagle in a holster strapped to his thigh, three magazines in one of his cargo pockets. Two folding knives and one concealed fixed blade. A fully-auto MAC-10 he’d customized with a muzzle suppressor and night scope. Locked and loaded and ready for action.

As he climbed up to the house, mud and dead leaves squished beneath his boots, he grinned. This was more like it. So much better than the job had been until now: basically stalking the pregnant woman and her husband.

Not that he minded the hunt. But part of what he’d been paid for was to also let the targets, especially the husband, know he was there, watching. Damned unprofessional, in his opinion, but he wasn’t in a position to say no to Daddy. Even though they shared some of the same tastes, at least he didn’t turn his own kids into fodder for other men’s jerk-off sessions.

Daddy might be a master geek, hacking into his computer and holding it for ransom until this job was done, but he had some ideas on how to turn the tables on the SOB.

The tree line ended in a clearing around the lonely house. Using his scope, he surveyed the location. One car in the driveway—the Feds’ gray Taurus. Both Feds inside the front room along with another man, obviously a civilian. A teenaged girl and the pregnant woman paced back and forth, moving in and out of sight. The pregnant woman held the girl’s arm and looked to be in pain.

Crouching low, below the level of the windows, he made his way across the yard with its straggly shrubs and flowerbeds. A few tiny purple and yellow irises bloomed beneath the window beside the porch. He crushed them beneath his boots as he strained to hear the conversation.

One of the Feds was talking on his cell phone and then handed it to the civilian.

He peered inside, spotted a shotgun near the door. Despite their injuries—the big one had his right arm bandaged and moved slowly, the other wasn’t moving his left arm—the Feds were also armed. So that was at least three shooters—he could probably count out the girl and pregnant woman. Good odds, he’d had worse and come out ahead of the game, but he couldn’t risk the pregnant woman getting hit. She was worth some serious change to the fetish-freaks. Not to mention the bounty Daddy would pay.

There was no sign of the real target: the husband. Daddy wanted him, bad. Fast. Which made him wonder what the guy knew—obviously something worth money.

Flashing lights coming down the drive made him tense, but the porch above him provided good cover. Not cops. An ambulance.

For the pregnant woman. He considered his options, a plan forming. It would piss Daddy off, but it would be leverage to force a face to face with the porno king. Only one of them would be leaving that meeting alive.

Best of all worlds. He whistled through his teeth, watching as two paramedics laden with gear wheeled a stretcher up to the house, leaving the ambulance doors wide open and unguarded.

Easier than stealing candy from a baby.

<><><>

THE VAN LURCHED
from side to side so harshly that Taylor feared he’d be sick. He never did very well in cars, not without something to distract him from the movement. Kneeling, his hands cuffed to an U-bolt welded to the floor, unable to see where they were going, his imagination soaring with ideas of just how badly tonight might end…a wave of bile forced his jaw to clench shut as he swallowed it down, praying it wouldn’t come right back up again.

Focus, he told himself. What would Lucy do? Hostage situations are all about connection, she’d say. Figure out what they want, make them think they’re going to get it, and work from there.

“I’m Special Agent Zach Taylor,” he said when he was certain he could keep his voice steady and not throw up. “What are you hoping to accomplish here? Maybe I can help.”

At first he thought the driver would simply ignore him. The man had said nothing to him since he’d thrown Taylor onto the floor of the van, snapped the second pair of cuffs waiting and already attached to the U-bolt around the chain of the ones that secured Taylor, slammed the van door shut, tightened Taylor’s cuffs, emptied his pockets, then hopped into the driver’s seat. And now they were heading lord only knew where.

Taylor forced the myriad of gruesome visions of blood and torture away and tried again. “What do you want?”

“Sure as hell wasn’t you,” the man snapped. His accent was not Pittsburgh, not enough hills and valleys to it. More flatlander. Midwest. “Supposed to be that bitch cop in the passenger seat. Then we’d be done already.”

“Maybe I can help you. If you tell me what you wanted from Lucy. We work together.”

“You mean you’re her driver.” He yanked the wheel and they changed lanes. Despite the rain they were going pretty fast. The Parkway, Taylor guessed. Heading east. “Right about here is where I lost them. Tell me where she took them and I’ll let you go.”

“Them? You mean June and Seth?”

“I mean my girls and that worthless piece of trash who keeps sticking his nose in my business. Where are they?”

Taylor had no clue. Lucy hadn’t told him. Not that this guy would believe him. What would a man willing to burn a little girl alive as a diversion do to Taylor to get the info he wanted?

His stomach rebelled at the images his mind conjured. Connect. He had to connect with this guy.

“I loved your hack on the medical database,” Taylor said. “Man, that was epic. A real thing of beauty.”

“You found that?” The man’s tone was one of surprise and for the first time he met Taylor’s gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Took me a few hours, but yeah. It’s what I do.”

The man made a grunting noise of acknowledgment. They drove on in silence for a while, turning off the Parkway onto a road that had stops and starts. No tollbooth, Taylor thought, creating their journey in his mind, must be 22. Lucy’s mom had lived off of 22, just north of Latrobe. Could she have taken June and Seth there for safekeeping?

He immediately wished he hadn’t thought of that—it was easier to not know something than to know it and hide it.

The van made an abrupt turn, sending Taylor sprawling as his legs slid out from under him, wrenching his wrists against the too-tight cuffs. They bumped over a curb, another sharp turn, and then came to a stop.

“Great thing about a dark van on a dark and stormy night, sitting behind a dark out of business furniture store in the middle of an empty strip mall? No one’s gonna notice anything that happens here.”

The man spun from the driver’s seat and entered the rear of the van where Taylor scrambled to get back on his knees. No way in hell was he going to face this guy lying on his belly. He braced his weight on one leg, thinking he could get a kick or two in, maybe.

The man crouched down and raised Taylor’s phone. He snapped a few pictures of Taylor, the flash blinding. By the time Taylor could focus again, the man was back in his seat, hunched over a laptop he’d opened up on the passenger seat.

“How convenient. Lucy’s number is right here. Once I hide my code in this photo of you looking especially terrified, she won’t think twice about opening it. And I’ll have my way in, can track her, see who she calls, hear everything she hears.”

“Is that how you tracked Seth and June here from DC?” Taylor asked, stalling for time.

The man didn’t seem to mind. “No. Met Seth in person. Fool had no idea. Swapped his phone for one I’d cloned, so I already controlled it. Planted a GPS tracker in with the battery as well. Once I had his phone, it was easy to infiltrate the girl’s. All she had to do was open a text with a photo from her dear hubby after I intercepted the original and modified it.”

Easy? He was talking about software that could be worth millions on the DarkNet—and almost as much to legitimate companies so they could develop a protection against it. Taylor fumed in silence, wondering how long he had to live once the man accessed Lucy’s phone. There had to be someway out of this, someway to warn her.

The man stopped typing and sat back. “Huh.” He sounded surprised but not upset. “Might not need your Lucy after all. Looks like June and her man are back on line. At a,” he leaned forward, peering at the screen, “campground outside of Latrobe.”

Latrobe? That was near Lucy’s mother’s house. But why would June or Seth turn their phones back on? It was suicide.

The man stared silently at the computer then abruptly swiveled back to face Taylor. “It’s a trap, of course. No way would she not have confiscated their phones, right?”

He spoke as if he was used to talking to himself and not getting an answer. Taylor debated remaining silent but then decided he couldn’t engage the man unless he turned his monologues into a conversation.

“Right,” he answered. “I keep Faraday bags in my car. That’s why you lost the signal after Lucy took their phones.”

Then it occurred to him—if Lucy turned the phones on, she’d have done it to signal Seth and June’s presumed location to Daddy. But how had she gotten to Latrobe so quickly? Helicopter? He envisioned Lucy and the SWAT team preparing his rescue and felt better. A little better, any way.