A few minutes later, a uniformed officer called out that he had another phone. It was lying under a picnic table twelve feet from the parking area. Al bent double, feeling like he was close to throwing up. Their options had just dwindled. Maybe they’d be able to track the number Kelty had used to call Will at the Walmart, but odds were he’d already disposed of that phone just like he’d disposed of the ones Will had bought.
He took several deep breaths, until the nausea passed, and then he straightened.
“What now, Sarge?”
Lonnie looked as lost as he felt, but he rallied.
“We need to find out where Adams and Cochran are.” He looked at Al. “Give Helen a call and get her started on tracking them, too.”
“Anybody else?”
“The mailman? Holiday—have her check on him, too. Might as well do Edwards’s ex, too.”
Al walked a few feet away.
“Hey, Helen. Go to my desk and get the files on Edwards and Trish. There’s interview notes in there for Steve Cochran, Larry Adams, Carter Holiday, and the exes of all the victims. We need you to get the locations of their phones, too.”
“Sure thing. I’m still waiting on the one that called Agent Anderson.”
“Okay. Call me as soon as you—”
“Wait,” she interrupted. “Is Agent Hawkins with you?”
“Yeah, he is.” Al turned, but Don was nowhere in sight. Lonnie was standing alone by his unmarked car. Al looked toward the park entrance and saw taillights turning left. Had Hawkins left? And if he had, why?
“Well, he was,” Al said. “What did you need him for?”
“His office called here,” Helen said. “They’d been trying to get hold of him and thought he might be here. They said they found something interesting in one of the background checks.”
“Yeah?” Al came to attention. “Tell me.”
Helen did. This is it, Al thought. He felt it in his bones. They’d find Jen and Will now, but would they be in time?
CHAPTER 60
A painful jolt brought Will back to consciousness and on full alert. The noise of an engine and the sound of tires on rough pavement told him what he’d already guessed—he was in the trunk of a car. His hands were behind his back, and he could feel the metal of handcuffs around his wrists. His legs were restrained as well, and based on the feel, his own belt had been used around his ankles and rope wrapped around his lower legs. Not very tidy, he thought, trying unsuccessfully to move his legs apart, but it works.
Just like Artie’s distractions had worked. He remembered leaving the park restroom and getting into his car. He’d called the number left in the envelope, using his last disposable phone, and just as it started ringing, he’d heard a noise behind him, followed by something hitting him hard on the side of the head. He realized now that the pill had been a distraction to make him think that Artie would wait for him to pass out. It was probably nothing more than an aspirin, but he’d been so focused on it and on making the call that he hadn’t checked the floor of the back seat.
The car’s radio was playing what sounded like a country song, and a man’s voice started singing along with it. Will lay still and tried to identify the voice, but it wasn’t clear enough. Was the driver someone they’d interviewed, or was it someone they hadn’t even suspected? He knew he wasn’t in the trunk of a Corvette, but if Steve Cochran was their man, he wouldn’t be dumb enough to drive a car that would stand out.
He gave up trying to identify the voice and turned his attention to his leg restraints. He pulled and pushed and tried to rub his legs up and down against one another, but the most he could accomplish was to move them a fraction of an inch against one another. Maybe the rope would eventually loosen, but combined with the belt, he wasn’t holding out hope. If he had enough time, maybe, but he doubted Artie was going to give him that much time.
What would happen at the end of the ride? The end of the ride in more ways than one—the end for him and for Jen, unless he could do something or the others managed to find them. It wouldn’t be quick. Of that, Will was certain. Artie would take his time, enjoying the pain he would inflict. Jen was likely alive, Will realized. Artie would want Will to witness the torture he’d inflict on her because that would cause Will more pain than if he went first. Until the phone conversations with Artie, he hadn’t realized how much Artie wanted revenge for him being the one to capture his father. He would force Will to watch as he killed Jen slowly and painfully, and that couldn’t be allowed to happen.
He felt the car slow and turn. A jolt, then the sound of gravel crunching under the tires. Several minutes passed as the car traversed what had to be a gravel lane. Will felt his body move toward the rear of the car and guessed they were traveling uphill. Country, he thought. We must be in the country. Not many gravel lanes were found in cities and towns, plus he’d heard very little traffic since he’d regained consciousness and none at all since they’d made the turn. Wherever they were going, it was some place Artie could indulge his sick fantasies without worrying about other people intruding.
After what he estimated to be five to ten minutes, the car slowed even more and stopped. Only a couple of seconds passed before the engine shut off. He can’t wait to get started, Will thought.
He heard a squeak as the driver’s door opened and then shut. Gravel crunched beneath