storeroom.
“Rosen filled me in, told me about O’Dell.”
Tully stopped and glanced over at Manx from behind the counter. The detective’s bulldog features softened. He actually looked sympathetic, if that was possible. Tully decided the jacket was definitely orange. In the bright light of the store there was no doubt.
“Now maybe you’ll understand,” Tully said, “why she’s been overly anxious about your investigation of the McGowan woman’s disappearance.”
“Well, I figure there might be a reason to rethink the Endicott case, too.” Manx hesitated as though making a major concession. “I’ve got copies of the case file for you in my car.”
“Detective,” the officer from the storeroom called out. He appeared at the door, his face pale and his eyes wide. “There’s a wine cellar below the storeroom. I think you better take a look.”
Tully followed Manx. They started down the narrow steps, only a bare lightbulb above to guide the way. But Tully didn’t need to see anything to know they had found the murder site. No farther than the third or fourth step, he could smell the blood, and he knew his stomach was not ready for what was below.
CHAPTER 58
He couldn’t believe that she had escaped. How had she been able to unlock the door so easily? He should have felt disappointment rather than exhilaration. But even his fatigue would not deprive him of the thrill and challenge of a good hunt.
The night goggles seemed to make little difference. Sure they helped him see, but there was nothing to see. Where could that little cunt have wandered off to? He shouldn’t have left her unattended for so long, but he had been distracted with the cute brunette. She had been so thoughtful, just as she had been with Agent Maggie. She had taken her time, helping him pick out a nice bottle of wine, not minding that it was closing time. In fact, she had already shut off the Open sign and was locking the front door, when he hurried in. Yes, she had been most helpful, insisting he try the crisp, white Italian for his special occasion, all the while not realizing that she herself would be the denouement of his special occasion.
But his little detour had taken its toll on him. He should have simply taken his prize and left her body in the cellar of the liquor store. At least then his muscles wouldn’t be aching. His eyes were having problems focusing. The red lines were appearing more frequently, or were the night goggles malfunctioning? He hated to think that his eyesight had gotten worse in less than a week. He hated the idea of depending on someone else. But he would do whatever was necessary to accomplish his goal, to finish this game.
He wandered through the dark woods, annoyed that his feet kept tripping over tree roots and slipping on the mud. He had fallen once, but not again. He bet she hadn’t wandered far from the shed. They never did. Sometimes they even came back, afraid of the dark or wanting to get out of the cold or the rain. Stupid bitches, so gullible, so naive. Usually they followed the same path, hoping the worn trail would lead them to freedom. Never thinking it might lead them, instead, to another trap.
He had to hand it to Tess McGowan. She had managed to hide herself quite nicely. But it wouldn’t last. He knew these woods like the back of his hand. There was no way for her to escape unless she was willing to swim. Funny, he thought as he adjusted the goggles to a different setting, none of them ever attempted that. But then, not many of them had had the opportunity. Tess was lucky he had been held up—even luckier that she had found a way to escape from the shack. He should have been angry with her, but her talents excited him. He did so love a challenge. It would make it all the sweeter to finally take her down, to possess her—mind, body and soul.
As he climbed the ridge he hoped he wouldn’t find her with a broken neck at the bottom of some ravine. That would be a total waste. He was hoping she would make up for his disappointment in Rachel. She hadn’t lived up to his expectations at all. She had been such a flirt as long as she thought he was a lowly utility worker she could tease and control. She seemed to have so much energy and vibrancy, yet she had whimpered like a helpless child when he was fucking her, the fight driven out of her so easily it was pathetic. To make matters worse, she lasted less than a half hour when he released her into the woods. What a shame.
He grabbed onto the vines and pulled himself up to the top of the ridge. Here he’d be able to look down and see for quite a distance. Nothing registered. There was no mass of heat that lit up his goggles. Where the hell had she gone?
He reached under the contraption to rub his eyes. Maybe he needed sleep more than he needed to punish Tess McGowan with a good fuck. With the familiar lethargy taking over his body, he didn’t need the added disappointment if he did find her and wasn’t able to…fuck her. He didn’t even want to think about that. No, he’d start again in the morning, when he had the energy and could enjoy a good hunt. Yes, he’d start bright and early. He looped the rope over his shoulder, picked up the crossbow and headed back. Maybe he’d open that nice bottle of Italian wine that Hannah had promised would delight him.
CHAPTER 59
Maggie felt numb. It took all her effort to keep her eyes open. She didn’t realize until she pulled into her driveway that she had been functioning on autopilot. She couldn’t remember leaving the interstate nor winding along Highway 6 with its sharp curves and steep ditches. It was a wonder she had found her way in the dark of night and through the fog of her mind.
Nick had left the light on in the portico for her. His Jeep remained where he had parked it earlier. She pulled up next to it, surprised to find the sight of its dusty sides and huge rugged tires supplied her with a wave of comfort. Now she was glad Detective Rosen had convinced her to wait until morning. How could she have thought to go hunting for Stucky in strange, dark woods in the middle of the night? Yet it had made plenty of sense only an hour ago. She had been prepared to stage a sneak attack, forgetting so quickly that she had lost the last one to Stucky. Why was it so easy for Albert Stucky to destroy all her common sense with a sweep of a hand, or rather a cut of his knife?
She knew Dr. Holmes was right, despite the probability that they would never be able to confirm it. She knew the liquor store clerk must have pleaded with Stucky. Maggie could hear it in her head—it came without warning and she couldn’t seem to turn it off.
She could hear Hannah pleading, and when she realized Stucky didn’t care, she must have begged for her unborn baby’s life. He would have laughed at her. It would not have made any difference to him. But she would have continued to beg and cry. Was that why he started cutting while she was still alive? Had he attempted to show her the unborn fetus? It would have been a new challenge to add to his repertoire of horror. It seemed grotesquely inconceivable, but, for Stucky, she knew it was not.
Maggie tried to shut out the images. She unlocked the door, and she tried to be as quiet as possible. It had been a long time since she had come home to anyone or anything other than a dark, empty house. Even before she and Greg had begun avoiding each other, their schedules conflicted more often than not. In the last several years they had become nothing more than roommates who left behind notes for each other. Or at least there had been notes in the beginning. Gradually, the only signs of double occupancy had been the empty milk cartons in the frig and unrecognizable socks and underwear in the laundry room.
The alarm system beeped only once before Maggie punched in the correct code. Immediately, she felt Harvey’s cold nose sniffing her from behind. She reached out a hand in the dark, and his tongue found it.
Though the foyer was dark, the living room was bathed in moonlight. Nick hadn’t closed any of the blinds, and she was glad he hadn’t. She liked the blue glow that made the room seem magical. She saw him stretched out on the floor, his long body only halfway encased in the sleeping bag. He was bare-chested and the sight of his skin, his knotted arms, his tight stomach brought a flutter to her stomach. And just when she thought she was too tired to feel anything more.
She set down her forensic kit, took off her jacket and began peeling off her shoulder holster, when she heard the sleeping bag rustle. Harvey had returned to Nick’s side, laying his head on the bundle of legs.
