In spite of her plea, his fingers traced her jaw line, forcing her to shudder and open her eyes.
A plethora of emotions rushed to the surface as she looked into his familiar eyes.
The moon hung big and bright in a star-filled sky, illuminating the country roads they travelled. Chief drove the SUV. A convoy of police cars and trucks followed close behind.
It’s a good thing he knew what they were looking for or they probably wouldn’t have noticed the tidy bungalow, nestled in between the fields of flowers. Lace curtains muted the light from within.
Randy’s heart hammered as they surrounded the house and moved toward the front door, weapons drawn. Chief Thomson knocked hard on the door.
“Jeffery Davies, this is the police.”
Randy couldn’t wait another second and kicked the door as hard as he could to bust it wide open. It took all of five minutes to determine Jeffery wasn’t there. The tidy room with antique furniture certainly wasn’t the kind of place he imagined a ruthless killer lived.
“I want half of you to search the fields on foot, just in case he saw us coming and ran. The rest of us are going to drive over to the main house. We’ll reconvene there.” Chief was headed to his vehicle before he finished the last sentence.
With lights flashing, Randy drove one of the cruisers the short distance to the homestead. News of their presence seemed to have stirred the main house. Each window glowed with light. Randy pulled up out front to find Professor Davies on the porch looking none too happy.
“What the hell is going on now? Do you have any idea what time it is?” The veins on his neck bulged.
This was the first time Randy had seen him angry. “Do you know where Jeffery is?”
“My son? What does he have to do with anything?”
“Becca is missing, and we think your son knows where she is.”
The professor frowned. “You can’t be serious. My son couldn’t possibly be involved.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but we really don’t have time to argue the point. Every minute that passes brings Becca closer to suffering the same demise as the other victims.”
“His house is about a...”
“No, we just came from there. He’s not home.”
The professor stroked his jaw. “Sometimes he spends the night in the bunkhouse.”
Chief barked orders, and the team raced toward the workers’ quarters.
“I don’t understand any of this.”
Randy paused. “I’m sure this is hard on you, Professor. We’ll keep you informed.”
“Do you think my son could harm her?”
“If we’re right, yes. He could definitely hurt Becca.”
“Wait a minute. You aren’t suggesting he’s this Florist...a serial killer?”
Randy needed to join the others. “I really have to go. I’ll be back when we have something tangible or better.”
The men were in position by the time he arrived. Chief looked less than impressed by the delay he’d caused, but nodded for him to go ahead. Without giving the men inside any warning, Randy kicked in the door.
“Police! Everyone up and stand at the end of your bunks, hands where we can see them.”
Randy’s jaw dropped. Jeffery climbed down from the loft, half dressed, followed closely by Jacob, who was also without shoes or shirt. The two obviously shared the same bed.
“Jeffery Davies?”
The man stood still, wide-eyed. “Yes, I’m Jeffery Davies. What’s going on?”
Disheartened, Randy replied, “We’re going to need you to get dressed, both you and Jacob. We’d like to have a talk with you.”
“What do we do now?” Randy approached the chief.
“I guess we get together with Jeffery and his father. Let’s pray they can lead us to Becca.”
Randy opted to walk back to try and curb his mounting frustration. The mere thought of what could be happening to Becca at this precise moment made him physically ill.
Chapter Twenty One
She’d battled demons and conquered many fears in her forty years, but at this precise moment she freely admitted to being scared shitless.
The more Becca struggled, the deeper the tape burned into her flesh.
The sheen of perspiration worked in her favor, helping the tape work its way up her arm. Her eyes filled and she blinked rapidly to clear her vision.
She frantically wiggled from side to side in hopes of moving the tape further. Her gaze never wavered from the panel Danny had disappeared behind. The harder she worked, the more she sweated. The mounting tension made the threat of being sick, very real.
Finally, the tape slid over her elbow. Despite her pain, she moved quickly, bringing her wrists up to start gnawing through the bloodied tape.
All too soon, the creak of the panel forced her to stop and lie perfectly still. Becca prayed he didn’t notice anything amiss. She swallowed her rising frustration.
Worry lines sprouted between Danny’s eyes as he crossed the distance between them.
He now stood at her side and looked down on her. Suspicion darkened his eyes as his fingertips skimmed her lips and came away bloodied.
Becca held her breath, forcing a calm exterior.
“You bit your lip?” His words were slurred like he’d been drinking drunk. Danny let go of her hair and pulled at the tape wound around her wrists.
She whimpered.
“Aw, does that hurt?” He yanked at it harder, the tape digging deeper and deeper into her skin.
“You sick bastard.” With every ounce of strength left in her, Becca clasped her hands and brought up her fist, connecting with his nose. Blood spurted over her and the floor.
Danny howled, grabbing his nose and hopping about like he was in a tribal dance. Becca prayed for mercy. Her plan to knock him out failed.
He squeezed the bridge of his swelling nose and glared at her. “You know, for a hotshot detective, you’re not very smart. Rule number one: never piss off the guy holding the needle.”
Randy stepped on the gas and blazed a trail out of Danny’s driveway.
Jeffery grabbed the dashboard. “Take it easy, man. How was I supposed to know he rented out his house?”
He smacked the steering wheel. “I’m not pissed off at you, Jeffery. I’m just plain ol’ pissed off. God only knows what he’s doing to her right now.” Pictures of the seven victims played over and over in his mind.
During the discussion between Jeffery, Jacob, and the professor, they listed previous workers who might have the kind of knowledge needed to pull something of this magnitude off undetected. Once Danny’s name was mentioned everything fell into place, and before long they agreed they’d uncovered the identity of The Florist. “I still
