Profile of Retribution: FBI Profiler Romantic Suspense (Profile Series #3) (24 page)

“No, the young woman who was murdered was named Marie, and was his daughter-in-law. She was a sixteen-year-old runaway when she married his son, and was eighteen when she gave birth to twins. She was abducted outside the strip club where she worked after her husband lost his job.”

Tisha’s jaw dropped open in surprise. “Oh, no. She had children?”

“Yes, a boy and a girl. They’re a little over two-years-old.”

“Who cares for them?”

“Their father, Thomas Jr., works during the day driving grain trucks. He takes care of them at night.”

Tisha filled in the blanks. “And their grandfather, Thomas Sr., cares for them during the day. Doesn’t he?”

“Yes, but—”

“Don’t try to change my mind about filing charges. I don’t care if she was his daughter or not. He loved her as his daughter. The pain of his loss is as real as mine, as he grieves for her as his daughter.”

“I’m begging you to reconsider. You don’t know his history. He
will
come back. I don’t think he’ll stop until you and Bradley are dead.”

Tisha pulled the robe around her and went to her closet, where she pulled out a large suitcase on wheels. “Let him come back. I won’t be here. And if Bradley is as smart as he thinks he is, he won’t be either.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to do what I should have done when we learned what our boys had done. Bradley talked me out of it back then, but there’s no chance he’ll succeed again. I’m changing my name and my appearance. I’m moving as far away from Shawnee County as I can get to start a new life. It’s on Bradley to decide what he wants to do. But the days of my husband making decisions for me are over.”

Just then Gail’s cell sounded, and she moved into the hallway to take the call. A moment later she returned, urgency tightening her face. “Sgt. Chase, the Lucas Storage Units are on fire. A passerby just called it in.”

Cameron rushed from the room and flew down the steps of the stairs. In his vehicle, he told dispatch to send every deputy in the area to the scene. In his rear-view mirror, he saw Gail’s cruiser tailing his SUV with lights flashing and siren blaring.

Chapter Forty-nine

Exorcism by Fire

In the distance, plumes of gray smoke and the flashing lights of emergency vehicles served as a beacon for Cameron as he made his way toward the storage units. Not that he needed help finding it.

Cameron didn’t need to be a psychic to know exactly where the fire had started—Devan and Evan Lucas’ unit #13, their self-made torture chamber, where seven young women had lost their lives. But the arsonist had one specific victim in mind when he struck the match.

Cameron had no doubt the man who started the fire was Thomas Engle, Sr. He wondered if Engle finally had sufficient payback, because Tisha’s refusal to press charges wouldn’t help him with this one. Arson carried some serious charges and penalties, including time in prison.

Parking behind the Fire Chief’s vehicle, Cameron leapt from his vehicle and approached a deputy who was lining the parking lot with crime scene tape. A group of onlookers stood near the highway, a media truck already parked near them.

“Deputy, push the onlookers and media across the highway. They’re too close.”

Cameron tapped Fire Chief Wayne Lansky on the shoulder to get his attention. “What do we have?”

“The entire building is engulfed in flames, but I think the fire started in that unit there.”

“Unit #13?”

“Yeah.”

Cameron shook his head. “Not surprised.”

“Is that the unit where—”

“Yes, it is. Any injuries?”

“One. The arsonist. I think he got too close to the accelerant and his clothing caught fire. The first responder, one of your deputies, had to tackle him to make him stop running. Your deputy is okay, your arsonist, not so much. The EMTs are working on him right now around the corner.”

Cameron, joined by Gail, moved around a couple of fire fighters blasting the flames with water. Soon he noticed an ambulance with two EMTs loading their patient into the back. He recognized one of them as Sandy Galloway, a young EMT with whom he had worked accidents scenes.

Calling out Sandy’s name, he ran to catch up with her, with Gail close behind. As he drew closer to the ambulance, he could hear painful moaning from inside.

“What’s his condition?”

Sandy shook her head. “Not good. It looks like the accelerant splashed on him as he lit the match. Third-degree burns from the waist down.”

A man’s scream sounded from inside the ambulance. Glancing in that direction, Sandy said, “My partner is cutting away any clothing not stuck to his skin. Next he’ll wash his skin with sterile saline solution to make sure that all of the accelerant is removed.”

“Is he going to make it?” Cameron asked.

“I can’t say.”

“Did you find any identification?”

“Yes, the accelerant probably burned off quickly. His wallet is no worse for wear.” Sandy pulled out a brown leather wallet inside an evidence bag out of her pocket and handed it to Cameron. “His name is Thomas Engle, Sr., and the address is in Indianapolis.”

Cameron nodded as he handed the evidence bag to Gail. “I’ve met his son. They just moved to a small farm outside of town.”

“Do you want me to contact his family?” asked Gail.

Cameron pulled his small notepad from his jacket pocket and ripped out a page which he handed to her. “Here’s his son’s name, phone number, and address. Send a deputy out there to let him know what happened and to give him a ride to the hospital.”

Cameron turned back to the EMT, who was now moving to the back of the emergency vehicle. “Sandy, can he talk?”

“Yes, there were no signs that he’d inhaled flames or hot gas. A burnt airway would have caused respiratory arrest, and he’d have been dead in a matter of minutes. He told us his name before we found the wallet. He also told us to go to hell when we said we were taking him to the hospital.”

Cameron followed Sandy and climbed into the back of the ambulance where Thomas Engle, Sr. was being covered with a dry sterile burn sheet. A non-rebreather oxygen mask covered both his nose and mouth. A section of his arm was reddened raw flesh, and looked so bad Cameron found it hard to look at him. Thomas Sr. groaned, as if the pain were unbearable, and mumbled something that Cameron couldn’t understand.

Cameron glanced at Sandy. “Can’t you give him something for pain?’

“No, we can’t. Neither of us are paramedics. That’s one reason why we need to get him to the hospital fast.” As if on cue, her partner revved the engine, flipped on the siren, and got the ambulance onto the highway where he sped toward town.

Sitting on the bench next to him, Cameron pulled out his badge. “Hello, David109. Or do you prefer to be called Thomas? I’m Sgt. Chase with the Shawnee County Sheriff’s Office. I need to ask you some questions.” He read Thomas Sr. his rights.

His breathing labored, the man stared at Cameron’s badge, and then focused on his eyes. He jerked the oxygen mask from his face. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know why in the hell you obsessed about getting retribution from the parents of Marie’s killers instead of focusing on that beautiful little family you moved here from the city.”

Wheezing, Thomas Sr. coughed a couple of times to clear his throat. “I promised Marie that I wouldn’t stop seeking justice for her. That I’d make the Lucas couple pay for what their sons did to her. I keep my promises.”

“What about your son? Didn’t you make any promises to him? Did you give any thought about how all this would impact him and your grandchildren? Did you think at all about how much he needs you now?”

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t think I’d get stupid and get caught. I thought I’d done a good job covering my tracks until now.”

“You didn’t do that bang-up of a job covering your tracks, because I know you’re the one who threw the bloody rock, set the Lucas’ mailbox on fire, tried to destroy their business, and duct-taped Tisha to her bed while you terrorized her.”

“So what? They had it coming. Did they really think they would escape retribution for raising animals who took my Marie and the other girls?”

“So you admit it was you who harassed them?”

“It wasn’t like the other people in that support group didn’t want to do what I did. I was the only one who had the guts.” He gasped for air and Sandy placed the oxygen mask back on his face, took his pulse, and then shot a worried glance at Cameron.

“No more questions.”

“Okay, no more questions. But there is something I need to tell him. All he has to do is listen.”

When the man’s eyes met his, Cameron continued, “I disagree with her decision, but Tisha Lucas is refusing to press charges against you for what you did to her and her husband. She is a mother who may never forgive herself for the crimes of her sons, but she forgave you. Tisha was able to put herself in your place and ask herself how she would feel if the situation were reversed, and your daughter-in-law had murdered her sons. Unlike you, Mr. Engle, Tisha gave thought to how much your son and children need you. She wants you to be able to return to them.”

Thomas Sr. slowly shook his head and pulled off the oxygen mask to speak. “I won’t be returning to my family. If these burns don’t get me, my cancer will. I’m dying. I’m no use to them now. I didn’t keep my promise to Marie to get retribution, but I’ve burned down the torture chamber where she lost her life. Hope that counts for something.”

Swiftly his condition changed and he struggled to breathe. His hands clenched, he expelled a pained hiss at the exertion. His voice was a raspy whisper. “There’s something I want you to tell Mrs. Lucas…” Taking one more ragged breath, he stopped breathing altogether and Sandy grasped his wrist to take his pulse. After a while, she shook her head. He was gone.

Epilogue

Three Months Later

A moving van was parked outside the Lucas home when Cameron Chase and Bryan Pittman arrived. Inside was a bustle of activity as the moving company employees wrapped and packed Tisha’s and Bradley’s belongings. Following a long hallway, they caught a glimpse of the couple sitting outside on the patio.

“Good afternoon,” Cameron called out.

Bradley looked at him with surprise. “Sgt. Chase? Dr. Pittman? What are you doing out here?”

Bryan handed Bradley a package wrapped in white tissue paper. “Just dropped by to visit with you before you embark on your new adventure.”

“What’s this?”

“You’ll find out when you open it.”

Bradley pulled at the packaging until the wrapping revealed a small box. Then he opened the box. “A compass?”

“I wanted to make sure you had one to keep you moving in the right direction,” said Bryan.

Cameron added, “If you ever decide to come back, it will lead you here to us.”

Noticeably touched by the gesture, Bradley hugged each man. “There are few people we will miss in Morel, but you two are at the top of our list. Thanks for all you’ve done to help us.”

Tisha smiled. “You’re right about new adventure. We have a long road ahead of us, and we’re eager to get started. Next week, we’re both scheduled for plastic surgery. Bradley has requested a Scott Eastman look and I think I’ll go for Sofia Vergara.”

“No kidding?”

At that, she laughed. “Yes, I’m kidding. We don’t know how we want to look, but we want to look different enough that it will be hard for people to recognize us as we start our new life.”

Cameron accepted the tall glass of iced tea that Bradley handed him. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Not really. After surgery, we plan to recuperate at a resort in the Bahamas. Our things are going to Goodwill, so others may enjoy them. We are making a fresh start with a new identity, new faces, and a new home. We don’t know where we will end up. It might be somewhere in the United States, or even in Europe.” Gently, he placed Tisha’s hand in his. “I do know that as long as we are together, things will be okay.”

Krystle emerged from the house, unfolded a long table, and then covered it with a white tablecloth.

Glancing at her curiously, Tisha asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting this place ready for your guests.”

“What guests? What are you talking about?”

Mollie, carrying a huge bowl of potato salad, approached the patio with Hailey, bringing a platter of sliced meats. Bryan leapt from his chair to help them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lucas,” Mollie began. “I’d like you to meet my daughter, Hailey.”

Hailey smiled and wiggled her fingers as a shy wave to the older couple.

“Did I hear the word ‘guests?’” asked Mollie. “Then for once in my life, I’m at the right place at the right time.”

While Hailey and Krystle arranged the food on the table, Mollie sunk into the chair next to Tisha and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry that we didn’t get to know each other sooner. But I understand why you need to go.” Slipping her arm around Tisha’s shoulder, she embraced her and then prepared to leave. “Hailey and I need to go back to town and get ready for the lunch crowd. You’re both in our prayers. Please be safe in your travels.”