Midnight Caller (31 page)

“He's going to kill you!”

Trevor brushed past, but Brian caught up to him in the foyer and grabbed his arm. “Stop it, Brian—”

“Let me come with you,” he offered. “I'll take you out there in the Cessna. You can make it in half the time than if you drive, especially with the way it's raining. I'm an instrument-rated pilot trained to fly in these conditions—”

Trevor threw off Brian's grasp. “No.”

“Damn it, Trevor!” He looked both angry and terrified. “You take me or I'm calling the FBI and letting them know what's going on!”

His face conveyed the seriousness of his threat. “I'm not bluffing. I'll call them the minute you leave.”

“You do that and you're going to get Rain killed,” Trevor warned.

“If I let you go out there alone, you'll both be dead.”

The house's front door stood open. Water danced on the sidewalk and dripped from the roof's gutter. Why did Carteris want him out there? Trevor didn't know. But Brian had a point—getting there by car would take hours, and he wasn't sure how long Carteris's patience would hold out. He stepped onto the veranda and put his hands on the railing.

“When Dad hurt you, I was too young and scared to do anything about it,” Brian said, standing next to him. “Annabelle and I stayed silent, and we've regretted it our entire lives.”

Trevor looked at him. “I don't want you getting mixed up in this.”

Brian's expression was grave under the porch lamplight. “I just got you back, Trev. I can't lose you again. Let me help you. The Cessna has a GPS system. All I need is a two-lane highway and I can put the plane down.”

His brother was right. Alone he was most certainly walking into a death trap. Not only for himself, but for Rain. He was fully aware Carteris had no intention of letting her go. But with the plane, Brian could be Rain's ticket back to safety, if only Trevor could distract Carteris long enough for her to get away.

If she could somehow make it to Brian, he could fly her out of there.

“Y
our lover wants you back.” Carteris closed the phone with a hard snap as the Escalade bounced along the rutted, nearly washed-out road. He glared at Rain. Even in the darkened cab his eyes looked irritated from the wasp spray.

Pressing herself against the passenger door, she cradled her swollen wrist. He'd twisted it viciously, until she screamed and begged him to stop.
His proof to Trevor she was still alive.

“I suppose you heard Oliver's dead.”

She managed a weak whisper. “How?”

“I'd say his therapist failed him in his time of need.”

They continued in silence until the SUV's headlights broke into the clearing. Carteris wrenched the vehicle into park in front of the cabin, then turned off the engine and opened his door. “Get out.”

Rain hesitated a second too long. Reaching into the SUV, he seized her again by her wrist. Fresh pain seared up her arm as he propelled her across the leather captain's chair. She spilled out through the open door, landing on the ground at his feet. Snatching her up, he pushed her in front of him up the stairs.

She limped inside the cabin. The candles still burned,
although Desiree's husky voice no longer emerged from the turntable. Instead, the needle scratched where it had fallen off the record's vinyl groove.

“Take off your clothes.”

Rain whipped her eyes to his. Every ounce of the gentlemanly facade Carteris had hidden behind earlier was gone.

“I said, take off those filthy clothes,” he repeated through gritted teeth.

The gown's wet silk was nearly transparent in the candlelight. She hugged her arms over her breasts, her eyes falling to her muddy and bleeding bare feet. Her mind threatened to shut down. Carteris clutched her shoulders, his fingers digging into her skin. Her head jerked back as he gave her a hard shake.

“You're not supposed to look like this!” Perspiration covered his face, and the sockets around his reddened eyes were purple shadows. “I've planned carefully for this! I won't let you ruin it for me!”

Dragging her into the small bathroom, he reached into the stall and turned on the shower. A thin stream of water spurted out. He left the room and then came back, throwing her shorts and tank top onto the floor.

“Clean yourself up. You have five minutes to get back out here. I guarantee you'll regret it if I have to haul you out.”

The door slammed closed. Rain was left alone in the cramped, windowless space. She caught her reflection in the hazy mirror that hung over the sink. Dirt smeared her forehead, and there was a large scratch on her cheek from her flight through the brush. She thought of the human remains she'd stumbled on. Tears filled her eyes as she peeled off the gown and stepped under the weak spray.

Carteris was bringing Trevor here to kill him. There was no way he'd allow either of them to leave this place alive.

 

Numbly, Rain emerged from the bathroom a short time later. She'd redressed in her own clothes, although her hair was still wet and uncombed. Desiree sang again, her haunting voice backed by a moody orchestral arrangement.

You didn't want me, but I swear to God you'll pay.

Her mother crooned about rejection and revenge. Tremors racked her body as Rain slowly stepped into the candlelight.

The leather physician's bag was overturned on the table. Pill bottles, vials and syringes were scattered around it. Carteris stood with a black tube secured tightly around his upper arm. He injected himself with something, although Rain didn't know what. His eyes closed, his expression growing slack as the drug took effect. When he finally looked at her, he made no mention of what he'd just done. Calmly, he laid the empty syringe on the table and held out his hand.

“Come here,” he demanded. Too frightened not to obey, Rain put her hand in his. “Your fingers are like ice, little one.”

He'd changed from his own mud-streaked attire into clean slacks and a fresh shirt. Wrapping his arm around her, Carteris guided her to the couch and eased her down next to him on its cushions.

“He'll be here soon. You'll have to make a decision. You'll have to choose between him or me. I gave your mother the same choice thirty years ago.”

She inhaled sharply as he extracted a surgical scalpel from his shirt pocket, although he made no threatening move with it. Turning it over, he examined the glinting blade.

“Desiree's death was the most sexually exciting experience of my life,” he murmured. “I dream about it to this day.”

“But you weren't…there. You're confused. You couldn't have been—”

“Are you certain?” He tilted his head to look at her, and she worked to process his taunt against everything she knew about that fateful event. Her parents' deaths had been a murder-suicide, an open-and-shut case.

“They were fighting…they both had speed in their bloodstream,” she stammered. “It was in the toxicology report. Gavin—my father—stabbed my mother and then—”

“Cut his own throat?” Carteris finished her statement, his lips twitching into a chilling smile. “Your parents were amoral rock stars. They'd already had a child out of wedlock, quite scandalous in those days. Of course they'd be drug abusers. It made perfect sense.”

He coiled a strand of her damp hair around his finger. “Amphetamines ensured the police would ask few questions. It was a simple matter to administer the drug to the bodies, then plant more around the house. I was completing my medical residency at the time. I had access. I got away with the perfect crime.”

“I don't believe you.” She cried out as he grabbed her throat and forced her to look into his eyes. What she saw there was both evil and dead.

“I've waited a long time to relive that night. Your mother begged for her lover's life. Will you?” Releasing her with a small shove, he glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. “It's already after ten. The time is nearly at hand.”

She understood with terrifying clarity. It was a play Carteris had already written, the actors already cast. He intended to re-create her parents' deaths. Trevor would take the role of Gavin, and she would be Desiree.

“What if I choose you? We can leave together now, before he gets here—”

“Listen to you. Already scheming to save his life.” He shook his head in rebuke. “You've caused me to expend
a great deal of energy. All that pointless running around outside.”

Using his index finger, he dragged the strap of her tank top down her shoulder, exposing her skin. Rain's heart pounded.

“In many ways, I owe everything to Desiree. She was my first taste. I felt my body taking in her energy, my own strength being amplified as hers was diminished. I drank her
essence
that night. It was the sweetest revenge.” Carteris stroked the curve of her neck, causing her to shudder violently.

“It was then I realized blood held the secret. That discovery has been the basis for my research.” He leaned closer, his lips tracing her jaw. “I could use a taste of
you
now, Rain.”

With the last of her strength, she pushed away and ran to the cabin's door. But he caught her again in two quick strides, ripping her hands from the door frame. His size enabled him to easily overpower her. She screamed as he carted her back to the couch and shoved her down roughly, pinning her onto the cushions with his weight. He held the scalpel in front of her face as a warning.

“Shh. Don't move.”

“Please,” she begged.

“You act as though I'm going to bite you. You've seen too many horror movies.” He pressed his nose against her skin, breathing in her scent. “In reality, unless one wishes to kill, a controlled cutting technique is much more desirable.”

Rain gulped air as her eyes trained on the weapon in his hand.

“There's a saying in ancient Sanskrit. One life feeds on another.”

The scalpel sliced into her shoulder. Rain sobbed as a rivulet of her own red blood appeared and trailed down her
skin. Carteris lowered his mouth to it, and she felt herself spiraling into the black hole Dante had dug.

 

The waning candlelight caused the shadows around her to shift and deepen. Rain lay across the couch. How long had she been out? Briefly, she wondered if it had been some horrible nightmare. But her rustic surroundings came slowly back into focus.

“It's time for you to wake, my dear.”

Carteris's cultured voice brought her fully back to reality. She sat up and pressed her fingers against her forehead as the room dipped slightly. He lounged next to her, a look of charmed amusement on his face.

“Feeling weak? You needn't worry. I didn't take enough to harm you. Not too much more than if you'd donated at a clinic, really. But I'm afraid I don't have any cookies or juice to offer you.”

Despite her unsteadiness, Rain stood. She touched the smooth plane of skin near her clavicle, her pulse quickening as she felt a sting. The cut still oozed blood.

“What did you do to me?” she croaked.

“The instrument was sterilized. The risk to you is minimal.”

She took a step backward as she realized what Carteris held. He toyed with a strand of black prayer beads, winding it around his wrist as he spoke.

“I've been watching you sleep.” He rose from the couch.

Rain nearly toppled as her calves came flush with the coffee table. Hysteria threatened to claim her. “If you take a step closer I swear I'll—”

Carteris made a grab for her, then stopped. His features hardened and he raised a hand to silence her. “Quiet! Do you hear that? I believe our guest has arrived.”

There was no discernible sound. Even the downpour had
stopped its racket on the cabin's roof. The hush echoed around her like a death knell. If Trevor was out there, she had to warn him.

She shouted his name, but Carteris was on her immediately, sealing her mouth with his hand. She clawed at his fingers as he towed her with him to the gun safe. The door of the metal cabinet was already open, and he took a powerful-looking handgun from its shelf.

“Keep your mouth shut or this all ends now.” He loosened his grip over her aching jaw and pressed the gun's barrel into her side. Keeping a tight hold on her, they walked across the cabin floor and onto the porch.

“I know you're out there, Agent Rivette!” Carteris yelled. He held Rain in front of him, a human shield. “Show yourself!”

Her knees nearly gave out as a lone figure stepped from the brush at the edge of the clearing. The navy windbreaker was nearly invisible in the darkness if not for the gold FBI insignia on its front.

“Drop your firearm,” Carteris ordered.

No, Trevor.
Rain shook her head, trying to communicate an unspoken plea for him to refuse. But he laid his gun in the low grass.

“Kick it into the bushes!”

He did as instructed, then raised his hands as he took several cautious steps closer. “I'm here to talk, Carteris. I came alone. Just like you wanted.”

Carteris lifted the gun and fired. Rain screamed as Trevor fell to the wet ground.

“R
elax,” Carteris scolded as Rain twisted in his arms. “He's wearing a vest. Don't believe me? I'll let you take a look for yourself.”

He released her. Rain clambered down the stairs and dropped to her knees beside Trevor. Repeating his name, she felt the vest's padding under his windbreaker. To her relief, he moved and opened his eyes, although he appeared dazed. Tearing open the jacket, she saw where the bullet had embedded.

“You see? Kevlar, standard issue.” Carteris traveled across the grass and stood over them. “Completely predictable.”

She worked her hand under the vest and felt the dry fabric of Trevor's T-shirt. No blood. But she'd heard of policemen being severely injured from the bullet's impact, even if it didn't penetrate.

“Nice of you to join us, Agent Rivette.” Carteris motioned with his gun. “Now get up. Inside, both of you.”

Grimacing, Trevor slowly raised himself to a sitting position and Rain helped him to his feet. As they climbed the porch stairs with their captor behind them, she was aware of the way he used the stair railing for support. Hope leeched
from her. He'd come here on a suicide mission. He had to know that.

Reaching the doorstep, Carteris gave Trevor a shove. She gasped as he turned to find the gun pointed in his face.

“I'm here to negotiate. I followed your instructions—”

“There will be negotiations,” Carteris remarked. “Only not between you and me. Move to the bookcase, away from the door.”

As they complied, Carteris walked to the turntable to replace the needle on Desiree's record. Trevor's words to Rain were hushed. “No matter what happens, if you get the chance, go.”

She shook her head, touching his face. “Not without you.”

He clasped her shoulders. “Listen to me. There's help on the way, but I needed a chance to get you out first. Brian's waiting at the highway—”

He stopped speaking as Carteris approached.

“Did you see my son, Agent?”

Trevor looked him in the eye. “Do you mean hanging from the ceiling of the Ascension, or on a slab at the morgue? Either way, the answer is yes.”

“Did he leave a note?”

“To explain why he killed himself? That's obvious. He couldn't live with what you were doing. With what you were forcing him to do.” He lowered his voice. “Respect his memory. This has to stop now.”

Carteris smiled coldly. “But we're only getting started. We have a long night ahead of us.”

“Your son cared about Rain. He tried to contact her before he died, and I believe he was going to warn her. At least let her go. Do it for him.”

“Oliver was a weak, disobedient child. Perhaps if I'd been
a harsher disciplinarian, he'd have turned out differently.” Carteris's eyes gleamed behind his spectacles. “But you'd know something about that, wouldn't you, Agent? Spare the rod and spoil the child? I've perused your medical records. You had a very unfortunate childhood. A litany of bruises and broken bones.”

“You told Baptiste what my father did to me. That's how he knew,” Trevor murmured in realization.

“Armand felt threatened by your interest in the Ascension. He needed something he could use to shake you up a bit. Your medical files were a wealth of information, especially relating to your traumatic injury in your teen years.”

“And you figured out my father was responsible?”

Carteris caressed the gun's barrel, obviously enjoying the control he held over them. “You're not the only one with investigative skills, Agent. I did some sleuthing of my own. Given your medical history, the treating physician on your case had suspicions about how your head injury was sustained. Your family's story seemed off to him. He recorded his doubts in your files—files to which I have access. The doctor's retired now, but I gave him a call. He remembered your case clearly. In fact, he said he contacted the police with his theory, but Officer Rivette paid him a visit and threatened him. He let the matter drop.”

Rain's head buzzed with fear and exhaustion as the two men glared at one another in the shadowed room. Over the fireplace, the mantel clock struck midnight in deep baritone chords.

“I wasn't certain you'd come out here,” Carteris said. “Is she worth that much to you? You're willing to die to see her one last time?”

“Just let her go. She apparently means something to you, too.”

He cut his stony gaze to Rain. “Help him take off that vest.”

Trevor shrugged free of the windbreaker and let it fall to the floor. He slowly raised his arms out from his sides. Hesitantly, Rain did as she was told. She released the Velcro straps that held the vest in place. Wincing with the effort, Trevor pulled it over his head, and she thought again of the bullet that had nearly pierced his chest. He dropped the heavy garment on top of the discarded jacket.

“Keep your arms out.” Carteris kept the gun pointed. Starting at Trevor's ankles, he patted him for weapons but found none.

“I figured you for a man who carries a backup.” He tossed the handcuffs he took from Trevor's jeans pocket to Rain. “Cuff his hands behind his back, and don't play games. I want to hear a snap when they close.”

When she wavered, he swung the gun toward her. “Do it now!”

“Do what he says, Rain.” Trevor looked at her, his eyes filled with compassion. Then he placed his wrists behind his back. Her hands trembling, it took several tries for her to successfully close the cuffs. When she was done, he briefly caught her fingers within his and squeezed. Emotion broke through the terror enveloping her, making her eyes mist.

“So what happens now?” he asked.

“That's up to your lover.” Carteris took a step toward Rain and roughly cupped her jaw. He chuckled as she tried to wrench from his grasp.

“He dies either way,” he said, no longer speaking to Trevor. “You decide how much pain he endures.”

Carteris let go of her. Confident Trevor no longer posed a threat, he slid the handgun into the back waistband of his trousers. But he was only trading one weapon for another,
Rain soon realized. He walked to the physician's bag and returned brandishing the knife he'd had earlier that day.

“How much do you love him? Shall I make it a quick death, or a lingering, painful one? If you really do care for him, you won't want him to suffer overly.”

An icy dread swept through her. Rain's mind raced for some way to placate him, to buy a few more moments of precious time. Stepping in front of Trevor, she placed her hand on Carteris's chest.

“You don't have to do this! I swear I'll do anything you want.” If it would keep Trevor alive, she meant it. She'd sell her soul to keep him breathing. “Let me make up for Desiree's betrayal. We'll leave the country. Just the two of us.”

Carteris stared at her. In the fading candlelight, he no longer looked distinguished, but monstrous and horrific. “I asked you a question. What will it be? A quick and easy death, or a slow one? It's time to make your choice.”

“But I choose you!” she cried, her face ashen. “What else do you want?”

“I want you to prove it. I want you to tell me how to kill him.”

Rain's mouth opened soundlessly. She felt her sanity slipping by degrees.

“Your vacillation is sealing your fate! I want a decision!”

“Don't do this to her,” Trevor demanded. “Finish this with me, not her!”

“Very well.” Carteris's soulless eyes remained on Rain. “I'll have to make the choice for you. Just as I made it for Desiree—”

She grabbed Carteris's arm. “No, please!”

“I've regretted I didn't make Gavin Firth suffer more for taking what belonged to me. He died quickly.
Too quickly.
I won't make that mistake again.”

He broke her hold, his intent made clear by the knife gripped in his fist. But Trevor was one step ahead. He barreled into Carteris, taking him off balance and falling with him. The coffee table cracked loudly under the men's combined weight. It splintered in half and deposited them both on the floor.

“Rain, get out of here!”

Using the couch, Trevor leveraged to a standing position. But Carteris was halfway up, as well. Trevor landed a blow with his foot, toppling him back down. The knife fell from Carteris's hand, but he quickly scrambled on top of it. He swung the weapon in a wild arc, forcing Trevor to back away.

“Go!” he yelled again.

She wouldn't leave him. As Carteris got to his feet, Rain threw herself into the chaos. She latched onto him, but he flung her off like a child discarding a toy. Landing on the floor, her injured wrist radiated pain that made stars explode in front of her eyes. She forced herself up just as Carteris slammed Trevor against the wall. With his hands cuffed behind him, he was defenseless. Carteris thrust the knife low into Trevor's rib cage. He gave the weapon a vicious turn and plunged it in again.

Rain's scream turned into a ravaged sob. “Trevor!”

Carteris stepped back. Trevor released a ragged breath as a dark stain appeared on the gray cotton of his T-shirt.

No. Please, God, no.

He slowly collapsed to the floor. Rain dashed to him, falling to her knees and cradling him in her arms. Trevor's jaw clenched, his eyes squeezing closed in pain.

“I know what I'm doing with a knife,” Carteris stated dully. “Death might take a while, Agent Rivette.”

Seizing Rain's arm, he jerked her up. She reached out frantically, calling for Trevor as Carteris dragged her away
like a dog on a leash. He stopped to snatch the rosary from the wooden shards of the broken coffee table. Its beads glittered like tiny black orbs, and the knife in his hand held the red tinge of Trevor's blood. Carteris's eyes were glazed with the darkest kind of lust.

“Come, little one. It's time for us to finally be together.”