Inevitable Sentences (26 page)

As quickly as he had approached, Chad backed away. His guttural laugh made him sound like an alien creature from another world. “I’ll let you stay alive a while longer. I told you that I want you to feel the torture I’ve felt for over twenty years. Trust me. I won’t let you off so easy.”

Fear rose inside Celeste like the Lighthouse Bread dough. Odd, she thought of something comforting at a time like this. Perhaps it was the lingering scent of the bread that had brought such an image to her mind. Maybe she had needed to be reassured by something pleasantly familiar. Wasn’t that how prisoners of war and hostages said they stayed sane? They thought of all the positive times in their lives. They conjured images of anything that brought them contentment, that gave them reasons to live. She had to do the same.

“Now,” Chad screamed.

Celeste jumped at the loud and sudden outburst, then groaned from the pain shooting into her head.

“You’ll know what it’s like to be in prison with no way out and no hope that anyone will help you.” He gazed off toward the lake and his thoughts seemed to disappear into the deep, cold water. “No one will help you,” he repeated.

Celeste watched in amazement as Chad’s expression changed from the self-controlled cockiness of an arrogant killer to that of an old and confused man. She tried to keep her eyes focused on him, wanting to study him for more clues to his complex personality. If she could see who he really was, she might come up with a plan to defeat him. Her eyes grew heavy.

Celeste’s semiconscious thoughts flowed in and out of wild Technicolor scenes from her life: Pilar practicing her piano. She could hear Pilar’s tentative fingers over the keys learning a new Mozart piece. She heard Bud, Pilar’s Lab, barking as the two of them raced down the front lawn toward the lake for a swim. She heard the delightful screeches of the lighthouse children playing cards.

Celeste frowned when she caught a glimpse of seven-year-old Chad with Marcus outside Tiger Stadium. She remembered how quickly she had denied it to herself. She watched Chad’s strained walk toward her in the prison visiting booth, his legs hobbled by chains that dragged along the floor like the ghost of Christmas past. Finally, she could see Pilar’s casket as it was lowered into the grave.

“Nooooooooooo!” she screamed and jolted awake. Jagged stabs blazed across her head and into her jaw.

“Having a nightmare?” Chad asked. “Join the real world. My life has always been a nightmare.” He walked to her side. “You can scream all you want. No one will hear you. No one cares.”

“They do care.” Celeste gave a chance response, although it was barely audible. “Trust me,” Celeste said, mimicking Chad’s earlier comment. “Someone will be here soon. You won’t get away.” Was she sure?

“Shut up, bitch.” Chad punched her in the jaw with the pistol grip one more time.

Celeste’s wheeze gurgled with blood. A pain far worse than she remembered when giving birth rushed throughout her body. She longed to sleep, to lie down, to close her eyes. She wanted to believe this was all a bad dream and that it couldn’t be happening. Her head felt both heavy and light as though it couldn’t make up its mind how to react to the blow.

She had no time to do anything. Chad grabbed a handful of her blood-knotted hair and pulled her head back. His eyes locked with hers, glowing with evil the likes of which she had never seen before. She felt one with the women she had given safe harbor. She unquestionably knew what they must have gone through with their abusers.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” he said in a dead voice. “You won’t be alive when they get here, if they do.” He shoved her head back against the chair, towering over her. His shadow grew as large as a monster’s. “I have plenty of time. No one can move quickly on those roads.” He cocked his head toward the woods. “If nothing else, I have plenty of time,” he repeated.

Searing heat raced through Celeste’s body. Suddenly she felt as cold as the ice that covered the windows. She shuddered. How much more could she endure before help arrived? She had to hang on until the police got there. A flash of light from the woods raced across the wall in and out of the trees, reflecting their shadows throughout the living room.

Then everything went black.

P
INPOINT LIGHTS SHONE IN
the distance. As Eagle and Max got closer, Max realized some were the pulsing lights of police vehicles. He couldn’t decide whether to be happy at the sight or not.

“Looks like the inn has power,” Eagle said.

“It’s probably on a generator.” Max thought about Celeste. Did she get the lighthouse generator running? He didn’t want to think of her alone in a dark house with Wilbanks. Nonetheless, he had to face the certainty of it. “Damn.”

“Sir?” Eagle asked.

“Do not call me—”

“Sorry, Max. Old habits die hard.” Eagle inched the Bronco alongside one of the police vehicles, shifted into park, and let the car idle.

Max immediately spotted Hunter approaching them and knew he would be pissed. Max reluctantly rolled down the window and waited for his friend’s harangue.

Hunter bent down, his face filling the open window. “You didn’t fool me. I thought you’d show up. I know I would.”

“Thanks for that, buddy,” Max said. “Help me out of this contraption and fill me in.”

Hunter opened the door and stood back while Max slid carefully from the seat. He clenched his teeth so he wouldn’t wince from the stab he felt to his chest. He didn’t want anyone, especially Hunter, to know how much pain he still had. Hunter would undoubtedly find a way to get Max back to the hospital, and Max wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Let’s get you inside the inn,” Hunter said. “I’ll update you there and then be on my way back to the lighthouse.” He faced Max and added, “Without you.”

“Why are you here and not at the lighthouse anyway?” Max asked.

“I knew you’d be coming. When I got the team set up, I came back to make sure you didn’t do what I think you’re planning.”

“You better get this over with and get back to the command post. I can handle my own damn self.” Max seethed.

Hunter didn’t answer and the two headed for the inn.

Eagle shut off the engine and followed close on Max’s heels. He knew Max had no intention of staying put. As soon as he got the information he needed, he would get himself to the lighthouse, even if he had to walk.

Inside, Max nodded a greeting to Joan and Ned. Hunter introduced Eagle.

“Max, what are you doing out of the hospital?” Joan asked.

Max looked around. “Where are the women and children?” He had to steady himself by leaning against the counter normally used for receiving guests.

Joan glanced at the sheriff. “They’re upstairs.” She poured each man a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

Hunter hastily added, “They’re all in bed, hopefully sleeping. They’ve been through a lot tonight. I’m sure this whole episode has brought back memories of other nights when they had to flee into the dark.”

Max swallowed the hot brew and studied Hunter for a few moments, then turned to Joan. “Adrian wouldn’t sleep through this. She’d want to help, or at least be close enough to get updated. She’d never abandon Celeste. Where is she?” His breathing became labored. No matter, he knew the innkeeper and Hunter were hiding something. “Well?”
Stay calm,
he told himself. He didn’t want to have to take another tablet.

Joan said nothing. She only stared at Max.

“Joan just told me that she drove back to the lighthouse shortly after dropping off the others. We must have missed each other.” Hunter’s sigh made him sound more like a father than like a sheriff reporting facts. “But I sense you already knew that. You also know that Adrian is a fool if she thinks she can do anything.”

Max drummed his fingers on the tabletop, then abruptly stopped and slapped the table. “I’ve got to go, too.”

“You can’t go,” Hunter shouted. “You can barely breathe. In addition, more state police are on the way to add to the staging area and set up a hostage command center. They left here a few minutes ago.”

“Do you know for sure that Wilbanks is inside the lighthouse?” Max demanded as if he were still the warden. He had to maintain that façade for himself and to keep Hunter from worrying.

Hunter rubbed his chin. “I’m almost certain.” What did Max want him to say?

Max raised his eyebrows to encourage Hunter to continue.

“My men found the rented Explorer off the road near the lighthouse,” Hunter reported. “We can’t be absolutely positive who drove it there.” He took a deep breath. “If we add all the evidence together, I’m certain Wilbanks is the only suspect.”

“Any footprints near the car?”

“Not that the officers could find. The wind blew snow over them if there were any.” Hunter frowned. “The only direction the driver of that car could go would be to the lighthouse. He’d be stupid to try and trek back here three miles.”

Max knew Hunter well enough to realize he had analyzed the evidence and had come to a reasonable conclusion. “You said you were set up for a hostage negotiation, right?” Max asked.

“Yes. And I have an Emergency Support Team and sharpshooters on the scene, which I also told you would be there, remember?” Hunter sounded sarcastic.

Max nodded and didn’t let on he had noticed Hunter’s acerbity. He realized the tone was due to Hunter’s concern about Max’s health and not his questions.

Hunter went on with his report. “As I said, several state police are in place. The hostage negotiators are on their way if they can get through. You can’t do anything more than they can do.” Hunter regarded Max with a hopeful expression. “I was on my way back to the lighthouse when you arrived. I plan to start the contact with Wilbanks using a bullhorn. I hope he’ll agree to talk either out the window or by phone.”

Max shook his head. “He’s not going to negotiate. He’s too sure of himself.”

“Everyone has a breaking point. Negotiators are trained to find it in every perp.” Hunter paused. “That’s beside the point. I need you to stay here out of my hair and without adding to your health problem. I don’t need the extra burden of having to get your butt carted back to the hospital.”

Max ignored Hunter’s plea. “My health is not a concern and you don’t know what I can contribute, especially to Chad Wilbanks’s profile. I know him better than anyone except maybe Celeste.” No one could mistake the determination in his tone.

Hunter glared at Max. Max met his fierce look with one of his own. It seemed to stop Hunter from trying to influence him further. Instead he shrugged.

“What are we waiting for?” Max asked. “Let’s get going. If we’re lucky we’ll get there before Wilbanks does too much harm.” Although Max tried to sound determined and positive, his voice cracked. Wilbanks. He hated even saying the man’s name. And the thought of anything happening to Celeste made his blood boil to the point he thought his veins would explode.

Hunter attempted to shepherd Max to a chair as he said, “You’re not going anywhere.”

Max wrenched his arm free. “I know you mean well, but I can’t stay here. Nothing will matter about me if anything happens to Celeste.” Max finished off his coffee and set the cup on the table. He felt stronger and ready to tackle the situation. Maybe the nitroglycerine had helped. “Let’s get this over with,” he said. He pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck and headed for the door.

Eagle jumped in front of him. “Sir … ah … Max, you can’t do this.”

“Now I’m Sir Max. I’ve come a long way and I’m going a lot further.”

Eagle grasped Max’s arm, but he couldn’t hold on either. “Let the sheriff and his men handle it, or even me,” he appealed to Max’s back. “Like the sheriff said, it won’t do anyone any good if we have to stop everything to perform first aid on you. You’ll only waste their time.”

“It won’t do me any good to sit on my ass counting the movement of the second hand on the clock. Stop your whining and let’s get out of here,” Max said without taking a breath. His voice rose with each word. Breathing heavily he glared at Eagle, then turned and continued walking out the door. Hunter and Eagle shrugged at each other and followed.

“He’s always been stubborn, son,” Hunter said. “We might as well do as he wants.” Hunter caught up to Max. “Get in my SUV.” He pointed. “Both of you.”

“You’re all crazy,” Joan called out after them. “But good luck, anyway. Godspeed.”

“Speed is what we need,” Max said. “At least the snow has let up some.” Soon all that could be heard were three car doors slamming and the SUV tires grinding into the snow. The three men remained silent, each contemplating what lay ahead. Their breath formed milky spirals. The heater blasted only cold air.

“We need a strategy.” Max finally broke the silence as the car began to warm.

“Let’s see what the state police have planned before we go off half-cocked.” Hunter sounded adamant. No one argued with him or said another word.

They drove in a gloomy silence. When they came across the Explorer in the ditch, Max let out a mournful sound. Until the actual vehicle sighting he had held out hope that Chad hadn’t reached his destination. Seeing the stranded SUV, reality slapped him in the face as brutally as the cold wind howling outside. “Please,” he moaned. “Please don’t let us be too late.”

Hunter only looked at him. Max knew there was nothing his friend could say or do.

“D
AMN,” ADRIAN SCOLDED HERSELF
as she parked the van in the woods and shut off the engine. “I should have turned off the headlights.” She wondered if the lights had alerted Chad to her arrival. If there was a God, Chad would be too preoccupied to notice. Preoccupied? With what? Torturing Celeste? Why hadn’t she insisted that Celeste go with them? If anything happened to her …

Don’t be negative,
she told herself. It wouldn’t help. She had to focus her mind on the clandestine task ahead. Yet she didn’t move. Her hands were still wrapped tightly around the steering wheel as though frozen in place.

Adrian stared at the lighthouse through the bare trees. The sky beyond was an unyielding black ceiling. She looked for any movement in the building—Chad peeking out to check on the car’s sound or the lights that had flashed into the house.