Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (147 page)

“Shh,” I said harshly. Spreading the photos out and putting my lamplight directly on them, I snapped a picture of each one with my phone. Then I took a picture of the note.

“How can you do this, Sarah? You’re an attorney, not a detective.” Her voice shook in anger.

“I can do this,” I whispered, more to myself than to her. Opening up the envelope, I breathed in the scent again. Cherry. No doubt about it.

Rick sat up. “There’s no room for error, no chance at forgiveness. You make a mistake and Angela’s dead. Now take the photos to the police.” His voice was stern.

Some of my old confidence returned. At the sight of Angela tied up and hurting, I’d shut off everything about me and made it all about her. This was bigger than me now. It was time to meet Hank Williams face-to-face. And I wouldn’t mind getting Glen Williams behind bars in the process.

“I’m not taking the pictures to the police,” I said evenly. “I have to study them. I have to find out where she is.” I looked up at them. Their expressions were frantic. “I have to play the game.”

Mandy turned her back to me and slammed her hand against the wall. “You’re going to get that girl killed.”

I stood up so quickly that the chair fell over backwards. Mandy’s eyes widened and Rick tensed up. “I can’t think when it’s so quiet.” Going over to my computer, I turned on an old screamo album to its loudest volume. Mandy gave me a strange look. She knew me better than that. She knew I couldn’t think
unless
it was quiet.

I picked the chair back up and sat down, bending over the pictures again. This time, I motioned for Rick and Mandy to come close. Rick stood and slowly came toward me, as if he was afraid I would do something. Mandy leaned in right away. Her red hair blended with my blonde on the table.

When Rick bent over the two of us, I mouthed to them with a mixture of hand motions. “Take—” I pointed to the pictures, “to police. Place could be bugged.” In a motion, I slit my throat. “Don’t come near me again.” And then I looked up at them, my soul in my eyes. “Stay safe.”

Rick nodded solemnly. Mandy winked at me and then said loudly. “Fine. If you want to sentence her to death, I’m not going to be a part of this. See you at the funeral.”

I handed her the envelope with everything inside and blew her a kiss. She hid the pictures inside her purse.

When they walked out the door, I’d never felt so bereft.

And so intent on finding Angela. The clues were at my fingertips—I could feel it. My whole body tingled with tension. Now it was my turn to hunt down Hank Williams.

And I had less than four hours to do it.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

I WENT TO THE spot where I did my best thinking—near the office, on the bench beside the lake. In the center of the lake, the fountain ceaselessly spouted water. It made ripples in the pool and sounded like rain. It was the only music I needed for this. The place was deserted, and at this hour I would be shocked if it wasn’t.

I hadn’t had a chance to study the pictures. They were still a mystery. I pulled my legs up and sat cross-legged on the bench in a lotus position. Time to meditate. I opened my phone and focused all my energy on the images in it. The pictures must’ve been taken on a nice camera—the quality was good. I took them apart centimeter by centimeter, studying every little square.

I shut off my imagination and feelings and became like a computer, only recognizing objective details.

Her clothes. I noticed she wasn’t wearing her own shirt. It was a button-up blouse with a floral pattern, which Angela wouldn’t have picked out in a million years. She wasn’t wearing any pants. There was a big, dark stain on the carpet beneath her hips, and what looked like blood running down her leg. She wasn’t wearing any shoes, but I saw them in the corner of the photo.

Her marks. She had bruises on her shins, as if she’d tripped over an obstacle in her path. Too low to be a fence. Too high to be a step. Maybe it was a car door, like she was forced to enter one. There was a bruise on her cheek as if she’d been backhanded. And one of her toenails was torn off.

Bindings. Her hands were tied behind her. I couldn’t see what with but I assumed it was duct tape, as that’s what covered her mouth and bound her feet.

Location. The building was being renovated. It seemed to be a house because I saw a closet with a
Cat Lover’s Calendar
hanging on its door, and the wallpaper trim had cartoon kittens hugging and cuddling with mice. There was a toolbox in the closet with a power drill beside it. The air seemed hazy, as if filled with sawdust or drywall dust. All the wooden trimming was torn off and thrown in a corner. Loose and twisted nails littered the ground. Angela stood with a wooden post at her back. Her hands looked to be behind it.

I was pulled into her eyes. They were the only free thing about her. She looked straight at the camera in pleading agony. That was what got to me.

Hunching over, I broke down in sobs. I didn’t want to imagine what she was going through at that very moment. I knew what was happening, but I didn’t want to believe it was possible. That in this world, a smart, feisty, lovable girl like Angela could be ravaged like this. That she could know such pain and agony in her short life.

Anger overwhelmed me. I covered my face with my hands and screamed. The sound pierced the night.

Then, panting, I closed my eyes. All that I’d been hiding, the part of me I’d wanted to destroy—I brought out. It was time to let the darkness out and use what I had kept buried. I had to help Angela, had to stop Hank and his brother once and for all.

I looked at the stopwatch on my phone. Two more hours until she’d be dead.

I stood up and started pacing, taking huge breaths. I thought through every detail, piecing them together like a puzzle.

I was fairly certain she was at the same location where I’d been taken when I was kidnapped. First, because the house was being renovated. And second, because I had seen the same weird green carpet lint that was at her feet.

If she was there, that meant she was only twenty miles from my house. At the most. I’d been drugged, taken there, and put back in my room in less than two hours.

I had to find all the houses that were being renovated in my area. That would take forever.

But I had someone to call. After dialing, I paced impatiently until he answered.

“Hello?” Rick said.

“Did you do as I asked?”

“Yes.”

“Are you home?” I asked.

“Yes. Wha—”

“You work in real estate. Don’t large companies pay to move people into town for jobs? I know Micron does it all the time.”

“Yeah, most of the bigger companies that hire out of state contract with relocation services. Why?”

“I’ve got a hunch. See if you can find out what service Williams, Inc. uses. I hope one of the houses they use is the one they took me to.”

“That’s a long shot, but I think you’re right—they’d have houses and apartments set up for new hires for temporary housing. Let me call a guy. Doug works for a service in town and I’ve done a few deals with him for Williams, Inc. I’m betting they use him, as there are only two services like that in town.”

“Let’s just hope he’s up.” It was late, and I prayed that Doug kept his phone on.

Ten minutes later, Rick texted me an address. Delaware Avenue. Number 1123. It was eight blocks from my house and was owned by the relocation service, but only used by Williams, Inc. He said Doug was a little drunk but gave him access to their database after Rick explained what was going on.

A few seconds later, my phone lit up. It was Mandy.

“Sarah, I’m gonna go out to look—both of us are. Rick found eight more homes in a twenty-minute driving radius of your house—there’s no way you can do this alone.”

My gut balled up. What if Mandy found the right house first? What if she got hurt? “No, Mandy, I need you and Rick to stay home. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you guys got hurt, or worse.”

“I wasn’t asking, Sarah. We’re already out. Rick has a shotgun and he called the police with all the addresses. I’ll text you three addresses and Rick and I will take the rest. I’m on my bike and not in the mood to argue.”

I swore under my breath and hung up. Seconds later, a text came through with three more addresses. That made four I had to search.

Hold on, Angela. I’m coming for you.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

I DIDN’T KNOW WHERE to begin, so I started with the first address I got from Rick. I punched it into my GPS and hit the gas. I couldn’t care less if I got pulled over. Tonight, I was the hunter.

I had four different addresses and not enough time. I prayed that I’d be the one to find the right house and not Rick or Mandy. Why in the world would he let her go alone? Rick could be a bonehead at times, and he should know better.

Memories of my father flooded my mind, and the look in his eyes when he knew I’d betrayed him. It was the worst moment in my life, but at the time, I felt nothing. Now, after so many painful years in a counselor’s office, I learned to control the evil lurking just under the surface.

Pressing the gas pedal down harder, I blew through a red light, thankful there was no one else on the road. I was gone now, not driving, not thinking, just letting my gut and the rage control me. It was the only way to win this game, and I was going to win.

You wanted to break me? Well, congratulations, you broke me. And you are going to regret it.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

WHEN I TURNED AT Delaware Avenue, I flipped my lights off. There were no streetlights, so I could keep to the shadows. Drawing next to the curb, I parked. I would hoof it from here.

Number 1123 was second from the last home—I could tell from the blue Dumpster sitting in its yard, filled with beams and junk from the renovation. It was two stories and didn’t have any lights on. I spied one on the porch that might have a security sensor and decided to go in from the back.

I’d have the element of surprise, but I’d need more than that. I took my gun from my purse. It fit comfortably in my hands. Sliding out the clip, I checked it and made sure it was full. And then I put ten more bullets in my pocket and tossed the box of shells on the front seat. Unless there was an army in the house, that should do the trick.

I drew in a breath. This was it. I could either wait for the police or go on alone. If I went in, did I have what it took to finish the job?

I glanced at my phone. It blinked the time, constantly growing shorter. 14:01. 14:00. 13:59. 13:58. I snapped the clip in the gun and released the safety. Angela’s face was in my mind. I couldn’t wait another second.