Touching the Past (12 page)

Zac banged his fist against the steering wheel. He’d caught the red light again.

He should have gone in. Checked the house to make sure everything was all right. Anyone could have been waiting for her: a drug-addled thief, a rapist, Herkel.

Herkel.

Zac’s blood ran cold. He foot jerked against the brake. The car behind him sounded its horn. The light was green.

He sent the car forward.

Herkel. What if Herkel knew that Mallory had identified him? What would he do?

Zac tried to think. He’d written Mallory’s name down with his own. He shouldn’t have done that. He hadn’t thought. He’d implied they were living together, but it only took a phonebook or a computer and a couple clicks of the mouse to find her home address in the White Pages.

How could he have been so stupid? So stupid as to have put Mallory’s life in danger?

The trained part of him said it wasn’t his fault. That he couldn’t have predicted Herkel would act this fast. There had been weeks between the time of the last psychic fair and when Herkel contacted the victims again. But as the man who’d held Mallory in his arms, tasted her lips, Zac felt he should have
known
. Should have protected her.

The house was dark when Zac pulled up in front of it. He could see the drapes hadn’t been drawn closed over the sheers. Mallory always drew the drapes at night. He’d seen her do it every evening when she tutored him. It was a habit.

There was no one in the house. He knew it. Mallory was gone. Still, he had to make sure. He pulled a flashlight from the glove compartment and his gun from the holster and made his way cautiously toward the house.

Keeping to the side of the door, Zac knocked with the base of the flashlight. “Mallory.”

There was no response.

Zac waited, counting off the heavy beats of his heart. “Mallory.”

Nothing.

The screen door opened at his touch, as did the inner one. Stepping inside, Zac aimed the beam of the flashlight ahead of him. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed, yet it didn’t feel right. Sweeping the light around more slowly, Zac looked closer. The rug on the floor was bunched in the middle, not lying smooth on the floor. As if it had been kicked away. The decorative plaque on the wall was tilted. A chair was pulled slightly away from the table.

A struggle, maybe. Mallory had tried to get away, but Herkel had overpowered her.

Zac did a quick search of the rest of the house, the sensation of icy cold growing within him. Nothing seemed out of place or obviously missing. Mallory’s purse, along with her wallet and keys, was sitting by the living room couch, as if she’d sat down and dropped it there. She hadn’t been called out unexpectedly. A quick glance at the wallet showed her money and credit cards hadn’t been taken.

It was just like the situation with Beth Kennedy and the others.

Locking the door behind him, Zac headed for his car with long strides, his jaw clenched. Herkel had Mallory. He was sure of it. But he had no evidence. He couldn’t call in back-up based on Mallory’s vision and his gut feeling. It would take too long to convince a judge there was cause and get a search warrant for Herkel’s property. He couldn’t leave Mallory in Herkel’s hands that long. He’d look for her himself. If—
when
—he found her, then he’d call in back-up.

At the end of the street he hesitated for only a moment, then turned north. Herkel would probably take her where he was keeping the others. It had to be the shed on the parents’ property. He couldn’t risk keeping them here in the city.

But why had he targeted Mallory? Had he picked up on her suspicions? How? Zac reran the meeting at the psychic fair in his head. There hadn’t been anything overt in her manner. What had tipped Herkel off? Was he a real psychic?

Zac’s foot slipped on the gas pedal. The car jerked. He brought it back under control.

Was that why he’d taken Mallory? And the others? Was Herkel collecting psychics for some reason?

Zac shook his head. That couldn’t be it. No one had suggested the other victims had any psychic abilities. Then
why
was Herkel abducting them? What was he doing to them? To Mallory?

If he knew that, he— He’d what? At the moment it didn’t matter why Herkel had them. What mattered was finding and freeing them. They could figure out Herkel’s reasons later. When everyone was safe.

Whatever the type of building Herkel had on the property, it was set far back from the road, screened by a thick growth of pine, oak, and ash. A narrow track wound its way through the trees.

Zac pulled off the road just past the track and killed the engine. He’d go on foot. Scout things out. Keep the element of surprise as long as he could. And pray that he’d come to the right place.

Keeping the flashlight’s beam pointed just ahead of his feet, he made his way up the side of the track. A light wind rustled both the leaves left on the trees and the thick carpet of them on the ground. The branches swayed and creaked. Though he tried to avoid it, occasionally hidden undergrowth on the ground would trip Zac or snap beneath his feet. The sound was like a gunshot in the stillness.

Light shone between the trees. Zac could hear the steady hum of a generator. He moved even more cautiously now.

Coming around the bend, he saw the shed. Two doors filled the side facing Zac. One was normal-sized. A bare lightbulb shone above it. A dark Equinox was parked nearby. Beyond that, off to the side, was a fifth wheel. The other shed door was several times the first one’s height and width. It was a machine shed, meant for tractors and other big equipment. Zac doubted Herkel was using it for that purpose.

He circled the clearing around the building warily. It looked like there had been a trailer home on the property at one time, but now the foundation was empty and overgrown with weeds.

Something crackled beneath his feet. Zac froze. His heart pounded in his ears as he kept his gaze fixed on the shed. There was no sign of movement.

After several long moments, Zac released his breath. He dropped to his knee to see what he’d stepped on.

He was in the remains of a burn pile. The flashlight’s beam glinted off pieces of glass and flattened metal mixed with black and gray ashes. Moving his foot, he saw he’d stepped on the remains of a thick plastic bag that was blackened but not entirely burned.

Zac frowned and brought the bag closer to the light. It was an IV bag. The kind used by hospitals.

He looked from the bag to the shed. What was going on in there?

Fear and anxiety propelled him across the empty space to the shed at a fast run in a low crouch. He flattened himself against the wall. The metal was cool and damp against his back.

Two windows broke the smoothness of the wall. Both were slightly above his head. Thumbing the flashlight off, Zac set it on the ground, then turned and pushed himself up on tiptoe to peek into the shed.

Overhead track lights filled the shed with harsh white light, allowing Zac to see clearly. What he saw made his blood run cold. Two rows of hospital beds separated by a wide aisle filled the center of the shed. Half of them held people, their eyes closed. IVs ran from their arms to bags hanging from the bottoms of the beds. From the color of the liquid it was blood.

A movement near the end of the room caught his attention and sent Zac ducking beneath the window sill. As he waited, he tried to make sense of what he’d seen.

Herkel had more than four people in there. It looked like closer to ten. What was he doing to them? Why give them blood transfusions? Unless... Zac frowned. Was he
drawing
their blood for some reason? Had he stumbled on some black market scheme to sell blood? Or was he dealing with some kind of modern twist on a vampire-type? He hoped it was the former. Greed he could deal with. A typical cornered criminal motivated by personal gain usually reacted in one of a limited number of ways and had a strong instinct for self-preservation. Nutcases, on the other hand, like addicts, were much harder to predict.

He needed to call in the sheriff and county boys. He couldn’t chance doing this alone.

Zac was reaching for his phone when the lights went off in the shed. Herkel was leaving. Sticking close to the wall, Zac raced to peer around the corner.

Herkel pulled the shed door closed behind him.

Good. With him gone, they could get the people out safely. Get Mallory out safely.

Whether it was because Zac made some noise or Herkel felt someone watching him, the man looked up. Zac didn’t have time to duck back out of sight. He held still, hoping he was just a shadow against shadows. Beneath the glare of the bare bulb, Herkel twisted the key in the lock and pushed the door back open.

Damn!
The other man was going back in. Had he seen Zac?

He couldn’t take the chance that Herkel had seen him. Zac came around the corner, sprinting. The interior lights came on as he reached the door. “Herkel! Freeze! Police!”

Herkel leaned over a bed that held an unconscious woman Zac didn’t recognize. At the sound of Zac’s voice, the other man looked up, startled. Panic crossed his face. He bent over the bed, his posture and attitude that of protecting someone. “No. No. You can’t have them.”

Zac took a cautious step forward, keeping his gun at the ready. “It’s all right, Mr. Herkel. No one’s going to hurt them. I just came to talk.”

“You can’t have them. They’re mine.” Herkel wasn’t listening. His attention shifted back to the body in the bed. “I have to keep them. I need them.” His mouth and chin trembled. “I have to keep my promise.”

Zac had to get him away from the beds. “No one’s going to take them, Mr. Herkel. I just came to talk,” he repeated. He lowered his gun a fraction.

“Talk?” Herkel lifted his head. His forehead creased as if he was trying to remember something. “I know you. Where do I know you from?”

Zac took another step forward. When Herkel didn’t react, just continued to stare at him in a puzzled manner, he moved closer, his mind racing. He didn’t want to set the man off. And from the looks and sounds of him, anything might do it. “We met today. At the psychic fair.” He holstered his gun, though the other man didn’t even seem to be aware he had one, and held his hands out. “Do you remember?”

“The fair?” Herkel’s expression cleared. “Yes, I remember. You didn’t want your cards read.” Herkel lifted himself away from the bed. He nodded across the aisle. “You came with her.”

Zac shifted his gaze. Mallory lay in the bed, her face as still as the others’. Like them, she was hooked up to an IV.

Making himself look away, Zac tried to keep his anger from showing. “That’s right. But I changed my mind. I’d really like you to do a reading.” All the time he was talking, he was moving forward, toward Herkel. He walked a few feet past the other man before stopping. He had to make Herkel move away from the bed.

Herkel had to turn to look at him. “You want your cards read?” His voice had lost some of its desperate quality. It still held confusion, but it was less tremulous. He looked around the room vaguely. “I…don’t think…I have…”

It was Zac’s chance. He took it. Lowering his shoulder, he rushed Herkel, catching the man in the chest. Obviously unprepared and winded, Herkel fell back.

Zac followed him, shoving him back to the wall. Herkel fought back in vain. He was heavier than Zac, but Zac had leverage, experience, and anger working for him.

The struggle was over before it really began. Herkel’s hands were cuffed behind his back. His chest rose and fell as he began to sob silently.

Looking from the crying man to Mallory and the other unconscious men and women, Zac couldn’t feel pity for him.

Chapter 14

“Ready to go home?”

Mallory looked up at the sound of Zac’s voice, her heart doing a flip. She’d hoped, but hadn’t expected, to see him again now that Herkel had been caught. But here he was. Looking wonderful. He stood in the doorway of the hospital room, dressed in worn jeans that clung to his hips and a dark windbreaker, a wheelchair in front of him.

She looked down, hoping that he couldn’t see everything she was feeling in her face. She was proud that she was able to hold her voice steady as she answered, “More than ready.” She frowned at the chair. “But I don’t need that thing.”

“Hospital policy.” Zac pushed it farther in. “Everyone leaves in a chair.” He patted the seat and grinned. “Hop in.”

“If it’s the only way to get out of here.” She started to sit, her awareness of his nearness sending tingles through her body. “Oh, wait.” She stopped and looked over her shoulder at Zac. “I need to check out with the nurse or something, don’t I?”

“Already taken care of.” Zac patted the pocket of his windbreaker. Mallory caught a faint crackling sound. “Got the paperwork right here.”

“You do?” Mallory’s eyebrows lifted. Since when did a hospital allow a non-relative to sign someone out?

“I do.” Zac’s lips quirked in half-smile, as if he’d read her mind and the question amused him. There was something different about him today. A sense of buoyant confidence.

“Well, then. Let’s go.” Sighing in resignation, she sat down.

She’d awakened several hours earlier with no memory of how she’d gotten to the hospital. Even the details of Herkel’s attack had been vague. A side effect of the drug he’d given her to knock her out. The doctor assured her it was a temporary thing. That the memories would come back within a few days.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to remember. The thought of a madman being that close to her. Being in her home. It made her skin crawl.

And Herkel had to be a madman. The young police officer who’d taken her statement had given her a few details. Not many, but enough for her to know she and the three people Zac had been looking for weren’t Herkel’s only victims.

“Why did he do it?”

“What?” Zac aimed the chair closer to the wall as ahead of them the automatic doors opened and a bed surrounded by staff moved in their direction.

Mallory hadn’t realized she’d asked the question aloud, but she wanted to know the answer. To know why Herkel had taken her. She looked up at Zac. He was facing forward, seemingly intent on maneuvering the chair through the doors. “Why? Why did Herkel take me? Us? All of us? What did he hope to get out of it?”