Noah had just called Damian, who’d located the home address of the owner—Mr. Thomas Armstrong—and had sent SSAM agents to the house.
But what really scared Ethan was that Fearmonger had to have known that they’d find all of this information soon. That they’d be closing in. He had nothing left to lose. He only had to complete his final pet project. Maggie.
Ethan leaped out as soon as Noah stopped the car on the warehouse lot.
“Ethan!” Noah hissed, but he was ignored. “Shit.”
Ethan heard Noah’s feet crunching on the gravel behind him as he secured his gun in his holster, preparing to scale the chain link fence that surrounded the property. He could see two more buildings, similar to the one he’d already been in but larger, in the back.
Trying for stealth as well as speed, Ethan scaled the fence and waited as Noah did the same. Together, moving forward in a crouched position, they approached the first of the two back buildings. There was only the sound of birds, the hot breeze in the trees, and the gravel that crunched underfoot as they neared the door. With guns drawn, they communicated silently.
Noah moved his head to indicate he would take the lead. Ethan allowed it, only because the other man was more clearheaded at the moment, while Ethan saw everything through a haze of red. He tried to focus on good things, to regain his impartiality. But Maggie’s gentle, knowing smile was the only good thing he could think of. And thinking of where Maggie currently was made him insane.
So he centered his thoughts on the asshole who’d taken her. The fake cowboy. The wannabe fear expert. He imagined evoking fear in the man himself as he ripped him apart.
The first warehouse was the smaller of the two buildings and was packed full with finished goods. Noah squeezed down an aisle, heading toward the back, and disappeared from view for a moment before he returned, shaking his head.
Nothing.
They immediately moved to the other building, approaching in the same manner. As they entered, their echoing steps were drowned out by the sound of an engine starting. Bypassing caution, they ran full-out toward the back. Light streamed from an open door that led to an empty room. It had probably been an office once upon a time, if the ancient filing cabinet in the corner meant anything. The light came from the window inside. The skid of tires on gravel grated on Ethan as the two men ran to the window just in time to see the blur of a white van as it disappeared.
“Shit,” Noah said before flipping out his phone and dialing.
Ethan gestured to the numerous padlocks on the office door and Noah nodded. Someone had really wanted to keep people out of here. Or keep them in.
Noah spoke into the phone as someone picked up. “Maria. He’s on the move down the back alley, heading west. We’ll double-check he didn’t leave anyone behind. White van. Didn’t get the plates. Had the name of the furniture place on the side, Custom For You Furniture.”
Jesus, Ethan hadn’t even noticed that—through his red haze and all.
Fuck.
He had to focus, or he’d be no good to Maggie. But his blood was boiling. They’d been so close. Only seconds behind Fearmonger.
“Give me your keys,” he growled.
“No way.” Noah surveyed Ethan’s face. He no doubt saw the crazy desperation lurking there. “No. We go together. I’ve got police watching for the van. It can’t be far away. Meanwhile, think about where they could be going. Maria said Becca regained consciousness at the hospital. She’s giving them hell right now. Wants to get back into the action.” Ethan hadn’t even thought to ask about Becca. Remorse stung him. Noah seemed to notice his anguish. “You’re upset. I get that. But we can help you. You’re not in this alone. So just trust me, okay?”
He laid a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “We’ll find Maggie and Julia. This is actually encouraging. They’ve got to be alive, otherwise he would have left them and run on his own.”
Ethan jerked a nod. Yeah, they were probably alive. But what did Fearmonger have planned for them? And how long until the killer realized he could run faster by himself and decided to get rid of dead weight?
“What are we doing here?” Maggie felt her chest tighten as Fearmonger touched the tip of his very large knife to her shoulder, prodding her to follow Julia, who was still gagged, her wrists bound behind her, as they entered the dark abyss of the tunnels beneath the university. Dark, small, unfamiliar places were not at the top of her list of safety zones. Especially when she was stuck with a murderer who had a long, sharp instrument in his hand.
She pressed the anxiety down, however, ignoring the pain behind her breastbone as she focused on Julia’s ramrod-straight back. They hadn’t been able to communicate since he’d forced them from the van, but she sensed that her sister was ready to run if the chance presented itself. But could she get very far with her hands restrained?
As for Maggie, fear for her sister overcame fear for herself. The ache in her chest was bad, but hadn’t gotten worse, and the drugs seemed to have worn off. Until the monster decided to whip out another one of his special syringes. He’d left her untied, at least, and that was a blessing.
“We won’t be in the tunnels for long. Just long enough to get to where we’re going. Just think of it as a little fieldtrip.” He waved the knife in front of him in excitement. “I always wanted to be a professor. A medical professor, actually. But thanks to you, I won’t be.” In his other hand, he held an electric lantern high. The light cast large, eerie shadows on the tunnel walls.
Thanks to
her
?
“Apparently you, dear Maggie, didn’t believe I had the brains for it.” His voice had turned hard, his eyes black as the tunnel walls. “You and that medical school board, marking me down because you couldn’t recognize true genius, which isn’t measured by numbers and letters. You’re just like my parents.”
Maggie made a sympathetic sound, but her focus was on memorizing where they turned, the number of footsteps before they changed direction, and anything else that would help them get away. Dear God, where was he taking them? And if he blamed her for his failure, what would he do to her?
Ahead of her a couple yards, Julia stumbled and fell to her knees. Her gag muffled her cry when she couldn’t catch herself with her hands bound behind her. Fearmonger pushed past Maggie and put the knife to Julia’s throat.
“Get up.”
“Don’t hurt her,” Maggie yelled as he yanked Julia to her feet and shoved her against the wall. Julia grunted from the impact. Maggie resisted cursing at him. He wanted to see her upset. He thrived on any sign of fear. She forced herself to sound calm and reasonable. “She doesn’t need the gag anymore, does she?”
He eyed her as if evaluating what she could be up to. Her breath came out in a rush as he nodded. “I’ll take it off. But if she talks, she dies. If she screams or shouts, you both die.” Julia met Maggie’s eyes with a silent thank you as he took the gag from her mouth. Her sister had to be thirsty as hell, but she didn’t complain.
“And the wrist restraints?” Maggie pressed. “You’ve got the knife and she has nowhere to run.”
“No. She stays tied up. What, do you think I’m stupid?” His eyes flashed in the light of his lantern as he stalked back to her.
No. He wasn’t stupid. Just crazy. But she detected a definite pattern here. The guy didn’t like to be thought of as stupid or inept. Even when he’d called in to her show, he’d only become angry when she’d seemed to refute his point of view. And he obviously wasn’t happy about not getting into medical school. Perhaps she could use the information to their advantage. Rattle him a bit. Of course, rattling him might prove even more dangerous. But hell, they had nothing to lose.
“You say you know human behavior,” Maggie said, struggling for some semblance of respect. The man clearly wanted to be seen as a scholar. Could she possibly use logic to reason with him? “There are so many facets to it, though. Why focus on fear?”
“Because fear is everything. Only fear makes the world go ’round. Only fear truly motivates us to survive. Stop here,” he told Julia, then gave the lantern to Maggie before he moved ahead. He pulled a key from his pocket to unlock a doorway, shooting a warning look over his shoulder.
She thought about running for all of two seconds. But he still had the knife. And it was painfully evident that Julia’s options were limited with her hands bound. Dousing the lantern would only make it more difficult to get away. Sure, he wouldn’t be able to lash out with his knife as well, but in the narrow tunnel, she wasn’t willing to take that chance. Even without the threat of a weapon, they wouldn’t get far in the pitch black.
When he swung open the door and flipped a switch, dim light filled a large room.
A basement?
At any rate, it was a rarely used room, if the number of cobwebs and mold growing on the wall were any indication.
He shut the door behind them and nudged them onward. “Keep going. There are stairs at the end of the room. Follow them up to the third floor. Room 303.”
Maggie’s head whipped around as she gasped. “We’re in the medical school building?”
No. Oh, no, no, no.
She hadn’t come back here since…
His grin was lethal. “I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out sooner. You know what I do with my victims. I help them face their greatest fears. And now, it’s your turn.”
“The Armstrongs are dead,” Noah reported as he hung up his phone. Every bent head around Sullivan’s corner table—Maria, Damian, Lorena and Ethan—looked up. The rest of the bar had been emptied of patrons. Police were down the street sweeping for clues in the warehouse where Maggie and her sister had recently been, in the bar’s restroom where Becca and Maggie had encountered Fearmonger, and everywhere in between, searching the alley that ran behind Sullivan’s as well as Custom For You Furniture.
Ethan gripped his hands together to stop from punching something. Every lead they gained seemed to be useless.
Noah sat down hard. “The officer on the scene forced his way in, upon Chief’s orders. Found Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Armstrong dead. Probably been dead a few days.”
Damian shook his head. “Not surprising, but still tragic. Any sign of their son?”
“None.”
“At least we have a name now. Christopher Armstrong has to be Fearmonger. I’ll call Catherine and have her cross-check that information with the database of people who attended or worked at the universities at the times of the other crimes.”
Maria’s phone rang and she immediately picked up with a glance at Noah. “Yeah…Where?…Good work. We’ll be there soon.” She hung up and smiled. “They found the van.”
Ethan felt a tiny ray of hope. But finding the van didn’t necessarily mean finding Maggie. “Abandoned?”
The look in her eyes was full of empathy as she nodded. “Yeah. But it’s where we found it that’ll help.”
He stood as adrenaline kicked in. “Where?”
“The university.”
“Let’s go.”
The entire team moved, sirens wailing to part the Saturday night traffic, to the Chicago Great Lakes University campus. Officer Lewis gladly stepped aside as Noah and Maria took over the security office to serve as a base of operations.
“What’d I miss?”
Ethan looked up in surprise as Becca strode in, a white bandage at her temple. He scowled, but her smile only brightened. “Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?”
“They can’t force me.” She put a hand on her hip. “And neither can you. I’m in this until the end. Besides, I’m fine.”
Worry about Maggie kept him from ordering her back to the hospital bed. He could use all the help he could get right now. And as much as he hated to admit it, Becca’s head—wounded though it was—was functioning more rationally than his at the moment. He took a deep breath, telling himself for the hundredth time that charging through the tunnels after Maggie was no use to anyone at the moment. Drawing on his training, he steadied his emotions.
“Fine. You’re in.” He gestured to Lorena, whose FBI training might come in handy in the field this time. “You and Lorena start at the psychology building where Sharon’s murder occurred.” Ethan tapped his finger against a point on the blueprints. “I’ll work my way through the tunnels from the dorm where Fearmonger first entered. Noah and Maria will enter the tunnels at the opening nearest where the van was found.”
Officer Lewis cleared his throat. “What about us?”
Ethan’s gaze roamed over the three uniformed men who’d been called in for added security since Sharon’s murder. At least, with darkness falling and evening classes out already, the campus was near to empty. “I want one of you at the library and one monitoring the dorms, in case Fearmonger does something unexpected. We want to keep the students safe.” He didn’t want anyone else going through what Maggie and Julia were.
Ethan’s hands curled into fists and he forced them to relax. “Besides, if we trap him, he might try to escape by blending in with the student population.” He looked at Lewis, whose wrinkles and deep-set eyes showed confidence and experience. “You come with me and stay at the entrance to the tunnels where we know Fearmonger’s gone into the dorms before. He may try to enter behind me.”
As Ethan’s focus returned to the blueprints, the taller, rail-thin security officer spoke up. “There are some areas that aren’t on there.” All eyes swung sharply to him and he cleared his throat. “I used to go to school here, and some of us snuck down to these tunnels. There are a couple of maintenance rooms and storage areas that I think were added during construction, after these blueprints were drawn up.”
Damian stood from where he’d been leaning against a desk in the corner and stepped forward, handing the man a pen. “Mark as many of those rooms as you can remember on there. He may be holed up in one of them. We’ll get copies for everyone going down there to search. I’ll be here in the security office, coordinating everything.”
“As will I,” Bellingham said, entering the already-crowded room. “I’ve spoken to the police commissioner. More backup is on the way. And I’ve placed the library and dorms in lockdown mode until this is over.”
“Thank you for your cooperation,” Damian said. “It could save lives.” He moved away as his phone rang.
“This bastard thinks he can come in and take over my campus and frighten my staff and students,” Bellingham continued. “Well, he’ll have a reality check real soon.”
Ending his call, Damian moved toward Ethan as everyone else left to get flashlights and their copies of maps and tunnel blueprints. “Ethan, can I speak with you?”
He was itching to get out there and look for Maggie, but he sensed Damian had something important to say. Was there something he hadn’t shared with the group? “Yes?”
“That call was from one of my private investigators. He found the missing guard’s body. She was killed, swiftly and efficiently. No message about fear.”
“He’s cleaning up his loose ends because he knows he doesn’t have much time left.”
Damian nodded. They both understood what was at stake. Fearmonger was a guy with nothing more to lose. “You can do this, finding Maggie. You know that, right?”
“Of course.”
“I just wanted to be sure. I hope you know I wouldn’t have hired you unless I knew you were capable of the job.”
Ethan rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Three years ago, most people were calling me a washout,” he said, looking away. “I never did understand why you called me with this job, but I’m thankful.”
Damian smiled grimly. “I’m not looking for thanks. I’m looking for results. I know a good person when I see one, and I know you’ve got it in you to get those women back safely.
You
just need to know that you have it in you. No more letting the past cloud your mind.”
“I won’t.” Maggie’s life depended on it. “And thank you, sir, for the vote of confidence.”
Damian clapped him on the shoulder. “I was always confident in you. You just weren’t ready to believe it.”
Ten minutes later, the team split into groups and moved toward their assigned areas. Ethan jogged beside Officer Lewis to the dorm building that led to the tunnels, feeling the familiar weight of his weapon in his shoulder holster. He’d discarded the suit jacket in favor of comfort and maneuverability. Still, sweat trickled from his temple. The sun was setting, but the heat wave hadn’t let up.
At the tunnel opening, Lewis waited while Ethan proceeded into the dark, musty tunnel. The beams of his flashlight flickered over metal pipes and trailing cobwebs as he swept them over the passage ahead.
Except for the heartbeat resounding in his ears, there was only the sound of water dripping from somewhere farther along. A faint whistle of breeze came from the tunnel, brushing his cheek and offering some relief from the heat, lifting the hair from his forehead before gently setting it down again. Maybe Becca had opened the doorway from the psych building, several hundred yards distant and out of sight, creating a breezeway. Or maybe another door was open, perhaps around the right-angle bend ahead, where someone else hid.
Fearmonger had marked this tunnel with Sharon’s blood days ago, and the words were still there, reflecting the light as Ethan swept the beam right to left, left to right. The shiny, once-sticky surface of the bloody letters increased the sense of urgency within Ethan as he thought of Maggie and how he’d first seen her scrubbing blood from her living room walls.
Would Maggie’s precious lifeblood decorate some forsaken tunnel several feet beneath the university? Had Fearmonger brought Maggie through here? Had she seen the walls? Was she having an anxiety attack even now, when he couldn’t get to her?
Moving more quickly, he made his way the hundred yards to the corner and turned, then went farther into the dark depths. It sloped downward for a little ways, but evened out again. Finally, he came to a door. One he hadn’t noticed on his previous exploration because the bloody words had only been in the first length of tunnel. Here, there was nothing. Only quiet. And the door the security guard had marked on Ethan’s map.
But it didn’t budge. And a closer examination with the direct light of the flashlight beam showed indications the door had not been opened in some time. Probably fifty years.
Another hundred yards down the tunnel, he came to another door. If the map he held was correct, this one led to the basement of the psychology building. He shoved it open, noting someone had oiled the old hinges. Probably Fearmonger. He pushed through and came face-to-face with the barrel of a gun.
The third floor of the medical school building was as familiar to Maggie as her own home. She’d spent about as much time there. But she hadn’t been back in a year. Not since Brad had died here, just inside the doorway of Room 303, where Maggie had an office for supervising med students interested in practicing psychiatry. And where she’d held a grant for performing outpatient therapy with low-income patients. Patients like Deborah Frame.
Fearmonger shoved them into the room, and Maggie took a place next to her sister. Julia’s eyes widened as she glanced at their surroundings.
“Is this where…?” Julia’s voice trailed off as she gulped.
He chuckled. “Ding, ding, ding. She gets a prize. Welcome to the place of Brad Levine’s final moments.” He grinned at Maggie. “And where Dr. Margaret Levine learned her first lesson in
true
fear. I thought it would be an appropriate place for your final lesson.”
He pulled a podium from the corner. It hadn’t been there during Maggie’s occupation of the office, but it looked familiar.
Following the direction of her gaze, Fearmonger smiled. “Nice, huh?”
“It looks just like the one in my classroom.”
“Because it is just like that one. President Bellingham ordered a couple dozen for the university and I made and delivered them. That’s how I got the keys to these tunnels.” He chuckled again, obviously pleased with his cleverness. “I doubt Bellingham even realized they were on his key ring when he lent them to me. Nobody pays close attention to blue-collar workers, after all. It was a piece of cake to have a few copies made.”
He sneered. “People can be so trusting. Those other girls, years ago…they were trusting too. All I had to do was deliver some furniture. Get the layout of the house. Give them a smile or two, and maybe say something flattering.” His eyes darkened. “They thought they knew everything and flaunted it at students they deemed inferior. I had to show them they were wrong to underestimate me.”
He seemed to shake off his musings. “Now where did we leave off?” He moved behind the podium. “Only fear makes the world go ’round.”
Maggie felt her heart pounding. He’d killed so many innocent people, and he waved it away as if it were nothing or as if they deserved it for thinking so little of him. She pressed her lips together. She glanced at Julia and gave a small, hopefully reassuring smile before stepping away from her sister. She wanted the monster’s attention on her and only her.
He wanted an active participant? Then, okay, she could play along. “Only fear?” she asked, tilting her head to the side as if in thought. “I’m still not convinced. True, fear makes your heart pump and motivates some actions, but what about love?”
His face grew taut. “Love is only the fear of being alone. It’s something people make up to soothe themselves when they don’t think they can make it through life by themselves. Like a lullaby. I don’t need it to survive.”
“That’s not true.” Maggie knew what love could do. Her family had shown her. And Ethan had shown her. “Love is the most potent emotion on earth.”
“Except for hope,” Julia said, her voice scratchy and dry behind Maggie. They were the first words Maggie had heard since their exchange at dinner, forty-eight hours ago, and they were like beautiful music. Over her shoulder, she exchanged a soft look with Julia, who nodded. Neither of them was going to give up hope.
“No. No. No.” Fearmonger stalked forward the few feet that separated him from Julia, spittle flying as he got in her face. She cringed but didn’t back away. “Hope is the thing that makes fear all that more powerful. A catalyst, if you will. If one hopes, then one has more to lose, and that feeds fear. But it all still comes down to fear.”
“Bullshit,” Maggie said, hoping to draw Fearmonger’s attention again. It worked.
He swung to her, a feral grin lighting his face. “Really? Right now you’re hoping someone will come to your rescue. And he will, Maggie. I’m counting on it. Because, you see, I’ve done
my
homework. I know how much you and a certain SSAM agent have grown to
love
each other. And I know what it would do to you to watch him die. Right after you watch your sister die.” Fearmonger’s grin grew wider. “Then, we’ll see who’s right.”
A breath of relief whooshed out of Ethan as he noted who aimed the gun at his head. “Stand down, Becca.”
She lowered her weapon, then pressed a hand to her chest. “You startled me.”
He didn’t point out that
she
was the one with the deadly weapon pointed at
his
head. “Sorry. Didn’t want to yell ahead in case Fearmonger was around,” he said in a low voice that nevertheless reverberated throughout the basement. He gave a wry grin. “At least you were ready for me.” He frowned at the bandage at her temple, noting the red stain. “You’ve started bleeding again.”
She shrugged. “A bit. I’ll live.” She didn’t have to add that Maggie and Julia might not. They were both well aware of the stakes.