“What do you think of this idea?” Kent said. He stepped over to where Jordan hung and leaned against the wall next to him. “How about I do both Agent O’Reilly and his little woman a favor and go ahead and kill her? I can do that when I come in tomorrow. I’ll bring you some pain killers and we can make a party out of it.”
Jordan’s eyes were closed, so Kent slapped him until he woke.
“Don’t fall asleep yet. I really want your opinion.” He smiled and leaned into Jordan’s ear. “We can catch it on camera. We can film her taking her very last breath. Then I’ll leave it for our FBI friend to enjoy.” Kent laughed. “It’d serve him right, wouldn’t you agree?”
Kent stepped away from the reporter and moved to where the girl lay semi-conscious. He knelt and placed his hand on her chest to be sure she was still breathing.
She was.
“After all,” Kent said, “he did accuse you of killing those women.”
He heard a loud bang coming from upstairs, followed by a pop and soft creaking.
Placing a finger to his lips he said, “Shh. I think we have company.”
Kent ran to the fuse box, switched the lights off in the house, and hurried to grab a fistful of brown hair in his hands. He dragged Cheyenne to her feet and backed away toward the desk where he had created an ideal exit. He’d learned the last time not to have a point of operation unless there was an easy escape.
He gripped Cheyenne’s hair and prepared for whoever it was that decided to visit.
He secretly hoped it was the agent.
Shaun opened the basement door and Aidan pointed his gun down the stairs. It was dark below.
With Shaun close behind him, Aidan took one slow step, then another until he reached the bottom. He heard a sound to his left, and when he looked, he saw Jordan Blake hanging in the dim light of the flashlight.
Through the blood trickling down his eyes, he saw Aidan too.
He motioned toward the back of the basement. Aidan nodded that he understood.
“Grant Rivers,” Aidan said into the darkness, edging closer to the back. “Show yourself.”
Kent found himself pleased that Agent O’Reilly knew his real name.
Go figure.
He continued to prove he was a worthy opponent.
“Okay,” he called. “We’re coming out. But let me warn you, I wouldn’t start shooting if I were you.”
When Kent spoke, he sounded as though he were singing.
Well aware of the blood pumping in his veins, Aidan gripped the gun’s handle, trying to steady his shaky hands.
“We’re coming out,” Kent announced again.
When he appeared, he held a woman in his arms.
But not just a woman.
Cheyenne.
78
Cheyenne’s face was almost unrecognizable. One eye was swollen shut, the other swollen open.
Her lips torn open.
Blood dripped from her wounds.
Her knees seemed to be busted, and Aidan could only imagine what the rest of her insides looked like.
The nightgown she still wore clung to her body and had begun to tear. He saw the bruises on her skin and he wanted to shoot Kent square in the head. But he couldn’t risk that he'd hit Cheyenne.
She cried as Kent held her in his arms.
“Let her go,” Aidan demanded.
“I do that, and you’ll shoot me.” Kent smiled. “So, guess we’re at a standstill.”
“You let her go and I won’t,” Aidan said. His vision began to cloud. He couldn’t see anything except the serial offender who held onto his girlfriend as if she were a shield.
“But we’re having too much fun,” Kent said in mock excitement. “You know, you have excellent taste in women.”
Cheyenne shrieked as he jerked her head back.
“This one really is something special.”
Aidan's mind raced, trying to figure out how to get Cheyenne away from him.
Shaun moved to the side, while another agent flanked Kent from the other direction. Aidan remained in the center.
“Uh-uh. Get back,” Kent warned. He revealed a switchblade and positioned it against Cheyenne’s throat.
Shaun and the agent stopped moving.
“Okay, Kent,” Aidan said. “Why don’t we talk about this? Okay? I’m setting my weapon down now.”
Kent watched as Aidan did as promised.
“Send everybody else up.”
“Forget it,” Shaun snapped, his weapon still pointing at the target.
Aidan kept his hand in front of him to show he wasn’t going to do anything rash. His eyes on Kent, he told Shaun to go back upstairs. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’m not leaving you with this maniac,” Shaun hissed.
“Go,” he insisted. “Please.”
Shaun hesitated, then began to back away, ushering the others to follow.
He kept his eyes on Kent the entire time.
Using his thumb, Aidan pointed to Jordan. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s fine, aren’t you, buddy?” Kent said. “We had a few issues here and there, but I think he finally figured out for once to just shut up.”
Aidan glanced at Jordan hanging on the wall, trying to keep his head up.
“I’m sure the tape helps,” Aidan replied, turning back to the cameraman.
“How’d you finally get smart enough to catch up with me?” Kent asked.
“Your first victim. She was your sister.”
“Adopted sister,” Kent corrected. “I could not stand her, you know? Always gotta be in my business.”
“So you took care of it.”
“Yeah. I did.”
“When you killed her, was it planned? Or did something she say set you off?”
“Well,” Kent said with a sigh. “I’d fantasize about it. But I was only seventeen, you know. I didn’t know what
