Authors: Mariella Starr
Jack guided a team of nine men and one dog into the woods. He was their guide, but Daniel Dooley's brown Labrador retriever was harnessed and moving quickly. Six men dressed in SWAT gear and armed to the teeth moved through the trees silently, spread out about six feet apart. Agent Coulter walked beside him. Jack had demanded a weapon, but Agent Coulter had denied his request. Jack was trained and capable, but this was an Agency operation.
"Hershey has the scent," Daniel Dooley whispered, noticing signals from his dog that the others could not interpret.
At Agent Coulter's signal, the team members dispersed further, becoming invisible behind trees and brush. Twenty minutes into the woods, Agent Coulter, hooked up to ear buds, gave a signal for Jack and Daniel to stop and drop lower. "Someone is ahead of us moving through the woods, coming in from the west. Let's see if he leads us there."
"But—"
"My team is moving in closer. Whoever is moving out there—it can't be random. We're going to take him down, Jack. Let us do our jobs. Don't botch this up for us."
Jack nodded, hating that he was not in control.
Someone was striding through the woods, but they could only see him from the back and at a distance. He continued to walk, and the team continued to follow and move in closer.
Jack pulled at Agent Coulter's sleeve. "The sod shanty is over that small rise. There's a small creek over there."
Agent Coulter relayed that information to his men.
The man went down over an embankment and out of sight. Jack could not get a good look at him without showing himself. He could not see the FBI team members either, but he knew they were there. Dooley had dropped back with his dog. He wouldn't put his animal at risk.
The FBI team members waited. They had their visuals and watched as the man unlocked the door. They moved in fast with the intent to capture, but suddenly the man screamed, high-pitched hysterical screams, and he kept screaming. He fell backwards and was flailing, fighting off someone. He was covering his face and shrieking wildly.
A screaming specter of a banshee wielding long shards of glass in her hand attacked. She was slicing and stabbing without mercy.
One of the team members grabbed at Josie, but she dodged him as she continued to attack her abductor. Another grabbed her hand with thick leather gloves and disarmed her. She screamed as someone pushed her down on the forest floor where she remained. She curled up into a tight ball and began to make a high-pitched keening sound and shake violently. She flinched every time someone came near her. Several of the men entered the structure but came out empty handed.
Jack went to Josie, kneeling down beside her, but she wouldn't look at anyone. She hunched in on herself, breathing shallowly, shaking and still keening.
"Josie, it's me, Jack," he said. He held out his hand, but she flinched backward.
"Josie," Jack said firmly. "It's me! I'm not going to hurt you. JOSIE!"
The keening stopped as she peered up at him. Unfocused eyes gazed in a moment of clarity. "My Jack?" she breathed.
"It's me, Hellion."
With the wail of an injured creature, Josie launched herself at him, and he caught her, the impact of her nearly knocking him over. "My Jack?"
"Yes, sweetheart, it's me." Jack curled his arms around her gently. She was covered in blood, and he didn't know how much of it was hers. He didn't want to hurt her further.
"Take me home, I don't want to be here anymore," Josie whimpered.
"I will, sweetheart, I promise," Jack vowed.
"I've called for ambulances," Agent Coulter said, putting his hand on Jack's shoulder and looking concerned. "We'll have to take her out on a stretcher."
"No," Jack said firmly. "I'll carry her. I'll take her out."
One of the swat team members knelt down beside Jack looking at the blood-covered woman in his lap. She was rocking and making that strange keening sound. "Sir, I can give her something to mildly sedate her—to calm her down," he suggested. "We need to get those cuts on her hands disinfected ASAP. God knows what kinds of spores, mold and bacteria are in these woods or that shack. I can then determine her other injuries."
Jack nodded as he leaned down to rest his chin on her head, but before the Medic could give her an injection, she slumped unconscious in his arms. The Medic set the syringe aside and began to clean and bandage her hands. Another member of the team poured pure bottled water over and into her eyes, and wiped a disinfectant across the scratches on her face and neck.
Jack took his eyes off Josie for a second to see more of the swat team, administering first aid to her abductor. His eyes went back down to Josie when the Medic spoke to him.
"That's all I can do here. We need to get her to the hospital for stitches. Those shards of glass cut him up bad, but they cut into her hands too. Her left arm looks broken, as well," the Medic announced. Someone handed him a stiff flat piece of plastic, which he tightened against her forearm. He placed her arm against her chest and wrapped ace bandages around her to hold her arm in place. "Okay," the Medic said and he lifted her out of Jack's arms so Jack could get to his feet. He gently placed her back into Jack's arms.
"Sir, you can take her now. We'll bring this piece of shit out behind you."
Jack waited until the team cuffed the man's hands and legs together. Four of the team members, each one taking an arm or a leg lifted the man to carry him out.
Jack carried Josie every step of the half-mile out to the road. If he had to shift her for a better grip, he felt helping hands take the load and hold her gently until he could regain his hold. There was a gentleness in the way the tough, swat team members touched her. There was compassion and admiration in their eyes. There was no way any man in that group was going to let anything else hurt her by force or accident.
Once they settled Josie and strapped her into the ambulance gurney, she stirred and began that strange keening again. The local EMTs knew her. They knew her as their strong-willed sheriff. They looked around at the black-outfitted men with questioning eyes.
"She fought with the devil today," Agent Coulter said roughly. "She won!"
When Josie opened her eyes, it was to a world of white, a fuzzy world, but she wasn't in pain, and she knew she was in a hospital. She looked around and saw Jack sitting in a chair pushed up close to her bed. He was touching her fingertips since her right hand was heavily bandaged and was taped down to a flat plastic board. An IV needle dripped something into her veins. His eyes were watching her.
"Good morning," he said softly.
Josie attempted a smile. "It is. I'm alive. Did I kill that bastard?" Her voice was rough and dry.
Jack gave her a weak grin and got up to pour her a glass of water and nudge the straw at her lips, which she took and drank. "You tried your best. You had him screaming like a girl, and he's going to look pretty damn ugly from now on. He's going to look like the monster that he is. You hit the carotid artery. He was bleeding out, but they stopped it. He'll live to face trial."
"Good," Josie said, her voice breaking. "Layla Blackcrow, did she survive?"
"Yes. Her kidnapping was unrelated. Her boyfriend abducted her. He carted her off because they'd had a fight, and she wouldn't talk to him. All is well there and as soon as they saw the report claiming she was missing, they called the police to straighten out the false reports. When her parents reported her missing, everyone sort of jumped the gun, the tape of him carrying made it look pretty conclusive. She's not filing charges against her boyfriend, and she stayed with him of her free will, so no laws were broken."
"Good! Thank you for finding me, Jack."
"A lot of people were involved in finding you, sweetheart. Believe it or not, Alex was the key."
"What? How?"
"We have plenty of time to discuss all the details later. The doctors said you weren't molested."
"I know, but it was close, too close. I didn't know who it was until he opened the door to that hole. Do we know why yet?"
"That's going to take a while to figure out, if ever. He's a psychopath who clearly went off the rails a long time ago. Meanwhile, there's a hospital lobby full of people wanting to see you, but no one is allowed in until your doctor clears you for visitors. The FBI pulled rank to get me in here with you. It's only four-thirty in the morning. I don't think your doctor is going to be around for a couple more hours. You need to close your eyes and get a couple more hours of sleep and rest."
"How long was I there?"
"Twenty-nine hours."
Josie nodded. "Do you think you could hold me for awhile?"
"Of course. I'm always here for you. You're my little Hellion."
An hour later, Jack opened his eyes as a nurse came in to check the IV. She smiled, seeing a large man stretched out in the hospital bed holding her patient in his arms. She winked at him and quietly left the room. Josie slept huddled in his arms, safe and secure.
Alex burst into the room, bringing with him a dozen helium balloons in bright colors.
"Mom!" He dropped his eyes, "I mean, Josie."
"Come here, Alex," Josie said, as the boy went to her side. "Thank you." She kissed him. "The balloons are great, but it's a nicer present to hear you call me Mom. We'll get there. We'll keep fighting until we do; I promise. I'm not giving up on my hero."
"I want you to be my mom," Alex whispered. He backed off as he tried to hand her trailing ribbons from the balloons only to realize both of her hands were injured. His face flushed and he looked worried. "Do your arm and your hand hurt?"
"Yes and yes," Josie said honestly. "It was a clean break to the arm, so I'll only be in a cast for five or six weeks. I've been waiting for them to let you in so you can be the first to sign the cast."
"Cool," Alex exclaimed. "Have you got a pen?"
"Actually, we don't," Jack said, pulling a bill out of his pocket. "Why don't you go down to the gift shop and see if they have any pens or magic markers, and sneak in some candy bars and something for her to read."
"Anything I want to get her?" Alex asked.
"Anything you think she would like," Jack agreed.
"Awesome," the boy said, taking the money. "Spider-Man comic books are her favorites!"
"The Fantastic Four are my favorites," Josie called after him weakly, but her eyes were happy. "Spider-Man is yours, but they'd be okay too!"
Buck came in as soon as Alex was out the door. "I had to see you, Baby Girl. I'm an old man, Josie; you've got to quit scaring me like this. Are you doing okay?"
"I'm okay, Buck, no I take that back," Josie said, taking the man's hand in her bandaged one. "I've been using up my nine lives like a she-cat, and you've stuck it out with me. You're my father, and I think I'm going to keep you around as long as I can. I might even start calling you Dad, but don't get insulted if I keep calling you Buck. The name suits you."
Tears filled Buck's eyes, and he struggled not to let them fall. "Right, Dad or Buck, I don't give a damn what you call me as long as you let me hang around. Don't scare me like that again, Baby Girl." Buck stepped back and looked uncomfortable with having shown his emotions. "Ugh, I'll go see that the kid doesn't get into any trouble. He's a handful."
"You're full of sweetness and light this morning," Jack teased. "Are you going to be this compliant when we get you home?"
"No," Josie said with a grin, "but, I'm the one that is hurt, so you have to be nice to me."
"I intend to take care of you," Jack corrected. "I also intend to make you follow the doctor's orders. I'm thinking of posting a big chart on the wall and keeping a running tally on your misbehavior and bad attitude. Once you're back to one hundred percent, I'll fire up your backside for all your misdeeds.
"Bully," Josie teased.
"Hellion," Jack teased back with a smile as he leaned over and gave her a kiss. "You haven't gotten a heck of a lot of rest for the last couple of days even though they have kept you locked up here."
"All the depositions were necessary," Josie said, leaning back against her pillow. "I'm still having a hard time understanding it. Someone I've known since second grade turns out to be a serial killer. His younger brother turns out to be his accomplice in at least two of the murders
and
is his sexual partner. How sick is that?
"Agent Coulter can't let me see their taped confessions since I'm a victim, but he told me what he could. Jimmy Richards is the serial killer of six women. He blames me because he lost a bet, with a bunch of stupid, hormonally driven boys that he would be my first. He was teased and shamed, and it twisted something up inside him. He was sixteen years old when he killed the first girl. She was only fifteen years old—a baby, the next one was only sixteen. Agent Coulter said that before the interrogation ended, Jimmy lost it and they had to restrain him. Jimmy blames me. He also blames you. He said he would not have had to kill all those women if you had left us alone that night. He built up some strange fantasy that I was supposed to be his. Agent Coulter said there would be many, many sessions before they would be through with him. Matt is not admitting to anything." Josie shuttered, and there were tears in her eyes, but she didn't cry.
"Agent Coulter said it will take a while for the medical experts to work up a complete psychological case file on each of them. Jimmy's lawyer is already hinting at an insanity plea. Whatever snapped in his brain, my coming home seems to have periodically triggered his need to get even. I've gone over the last year a million times in my head, and he never gave a hint. He was polite, supportive and fun to be around. I babysat his kids so he and Mary Ann could go out on dates and have some time away from the kids. From everything I saw, he was a great husband and a wonderful father.
"He lived a normal, everyday life, but he had a hidden part of him that was a psychotic killer. He used those other poor women as substitutes." Josie's voice broke and this time she did cry. "He killed six women, but he didn't want to hurt me. In his crazy, mixed-up mind, he said he was protecting me. None of it makes any sense."
"Sweetheart, what he did is not your fault," Jack said firmly. "You are not to blame for his insane ideas and actions."
"I know that, but six women are dead because of his obsession," Josie admitted. "I can't sleep, Jack. Not unless you're with me. It comes back, and it's horrible. Not only what happened now, but also what happened before. I think I'm going to need some time with a psychologist."
"That's totally understandable," he promised. "I intend to be by you and with you through whatever you need to get your balance back. I've been there, Josie, not exactly the same circumstances, but I understand. You're going to need a lot of help, a lot of rest, understanding and love. It's my job to see that you get all of it."
Jack helped her out of the bed, led her over to a chair and pulled her into his lap. "We need to talk about some other things. They're going to spring you from the hospital tomorrow."
"I know. I can't wait."
"Yeah, I got that impression," Jack said with a grin. "Josie, it's not going to be easy. Your left arm is in a cast, and your right hand has a lot of stitches and bandages that must be re-dressed several times a day. It's probably going to take the cuts on your hand longer to heal than the broken arm. You're probably going to need some physical therapy later. Right now you can't feed yourself, dress yourself, or even go to the bathroom by yourself."
"I'll figure it out. I am not going into that care facility the doctor suggested. I won't."
"You made that clear," said Jack, his voice going stern. "But you are going to need care. I've already talked to Dr. Mellon, and he said either he or his physician's assistant will be over several times a day to change the dressings and watch for infections."
"Jack, I don't need that," Josie complained.
"Yes, you do," he interrupted. "It's not going to do you any good to argue about it. If you won't accept the other options of care that puts it squarely on me." He held up his hand when she opened her mouth to protest.
"I'm going to be your primary caretaker. I will take care of you in every manner and detail. I will bathe you, dress you, feed you, and help take care of all your needs including anything you might consider embarrassing. It's either me or Buck, and I don't think you want your father helping you go to the bathroom or dressing you. The only thing I ask is, don't fight me because if you do you'll lose, and you won't like the consequences."
"Consequences," Josie parroted softly.
"Consequences," Jack repeated sternly.
Josie gave that warning a few moments of consideration. "What about rewards?" she asked, giving a wiggle on his lap and rubbing up against him.
"What about them?"
"Do I get rewards for going along with of all your high-handed commands?" She wiggled again. "What do I get out of this deal?"
Jack grinned and captured her mouth. "I'll make it worth your while. You have my promise on that."
"Good," Josie whispered laying her head on his shoulder. "Because I know you always keep your promises."
"Are you ready for this?" Agent Coulter asked as Josie sat down in the wheelchair and prepared for an orderly to wheel her out of the hospital.
"No, I don't know why we can't go out the back door," Josie complained. "Everyone else went out the back door with the flowers, cards, stuffed animals, and other stuff."
"This is your day, Ms. Raintree," Detective Rich Webber said. "The public wants to see that you're okay."