So Broken, page 15
“You’re insane.”
“Your words mean nothing to me, Corporal. No more than the words of any murderer.”
“You’re going to meet justice, Doc. I promise you. You know the Platoon. You’ve taken three of us already. What do you think the others will do when they find you?”
“They didn’t even suspect foul play after Carter’s death. The FBI is fixating on the artist who was sleeping with the congresswoman I killed. They won’t find me.”
“The FBI agent is a Marine, Doc. She’ll find you.”
He chuckled. “It’s always amazed me how arrogant Marines are. They’re so certain they’re invincible. As though getting through boot camp somehow makes them untouchable. I’ve already killed three of you. I won’t have any trouble killing more.”
“You’re a piece of shit,” she spat. “You worthless asshole.”
“Your words mean nothing, Corporal. I’ve already said that.”
He stepped closer and carefully affixed the gag again. “You know what? I’m going to make an example out of you after all. I’m going to hurt you. I’m going to think of ways to make you wish I had just shot you instead of leaving you alive. I can’t kill you a hundred times for each life you’ve taken, but I can make you suffer enough for a hundred liftetimes.”
He stepped away and grabbed his car keys. “I’m going to go get some supplies. Enjoy your last few hours on this Earth, Corporal. If I were you, I would pray for forgiveness. Your body belongs to me, but if God does exist, He might be persuaded to have mercy on your soul. Though I rather doubt it.”
He left then, and Candace watched helplessly as he retreated up the stairs. He switched the light off, and just before he closed the door and plunged the room into darkness, she screamed, the gag muffling her cry and increasing her impotent rage.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Faith and Michael reached the hospital forty-five minutes after leaving the Pembroke PD police station. The receptionist’s eyes widened when he saw Faith’s expression.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“We need to speak to Doctor Walter Templeton immediately,” Faith said.
The receptionist blinked. “Um… okay. May I ask why?”
“We suspect him of murdering four individuals and kidnapping a fifth who he also intends to murder.”
“Oh,” the receptionist said. “Oh. All right. Um…”
He began tapping keys, his face flustered, and said, "Doctor Templeton isn't scheduled today. It looks like he's not coming in until tomorrow. Can I take a message? Or… I guess not."
“Take a breath,” Faith said. “We need to know where he is.”
“Well… I’m not sure how to find that information.”
“He didn’t leave an address for a hotel or a home he’s staying in while he’s in town?”
“Um… I don’t think so. It’s not coming up on his file.”
Faith sighed. “Can I speak to his supervising attending?”
“Doctor Fowler isn’t in today.”
“Well,” Faith said, forcing herself to stay calm and not overwhelm the already frazzled receptionist. “Can I have his number, please?”
“Doctor Fowler is a she.”
Michael leaned over the desk, and the receptionist blanched at the intensity of his gaze. "Give us a phone number for someone who can tell us where to find the serial murderer who right now has his next victim in his grasp. Please."
“Oh, um. Okay. Okay.”
The receptionist’s hands trembled, but he managed to stay calm enough to get them a phone number. Faith immediately dialed it and when Doctor Fowler answered, she said, “Doctor Fowler, this is Special Agent Faith Bold with the FBI. We suspect Doctor Walter Templeton of serial murder. I need to know if he gave you an address or if you have any idea where he might be.”
“What?” Fowler said. Then, sternly, “If you call this number again, I’ll call the police.”
“And if you hang up, I’ll tell every newspaper in the country that you withheld vital information that could have saved a Marine combat veteran’s life!” Faith snapped. “If you want to verify my ID, look up the phone number for the Philadelphia Field Office and give them my name. But do it after you give me an address for Doctor Templeton.”
There was a brief pause on the other end. Then Doctor Fowler said, “Oh God. You’re serious.”
Faith threw the hand that wasn’t holding the phone into the air. “Yes, I’m being serious!” she shouted. “For God’s sake, tell me where the hell Walter Templeton is!”
“He’s been staying at the Hilton Garden Inn,” Fowler said in a far more subdued voice. “I didn’t get a room number.”
“That’s good enough,” Faith said.
She hung up and led Michael and Turk away from the shocked receptionist. As Michael sped toward the inn, Faith called ahead and got the room number.
And bad news. “He checked out yesterday.”
She sighed but forced herself to remain calm and focus on what to do next. “Did he leave in a vehicle?”
“Yes. He was driving an old Chevy Express van. An early 2000s model, I think.”
“Color?”
“Flat grey. It was a work van. He said he sometimes did traveling surgeries in places where there weren’t any nearby hospitals and carried his tools in the van.”
“License plate?”
“Umm… here, let me check.”
The two minutes it took the concierge to look up the license plate were the longest of Faith’s life. She tried to remain calm, but each passing second she could see the scalpel burying itself in Candace Rogers’ heart.
“Okay,” the concierge finally said. “I looked it up on the security camera. Ohio license plate TTW zero-two-one-five.”
Faith wrote the number down and said, “Thank you.”
She hung up and called the Rogersville Police Department. After a brief conversation with the receptionist to convince her that she was, in fact, from the FBI, she put an APB out on the van.
When she was finished, Matt asked. “Now what?”
She shook her head. “Now we look.”
“Where?”
She thought. “He would have to be somewhere removed from people to kill her and stage her without being caught. I think we drive outside of town and look through the farm-to-market roads.”
“All right.”
He switched the lights on and sped away from the VA hospital. As they drove away, he asked, “Do you think she’s still okay? The Corporal, I mean?”
Faith wished wholeheartedly that she could give a better answer than the one she gave. “No. Honestly, it’s probably too late for her.” She looked at Michael. “But we aren’t going to give up. Not until we see her body.”
Michael nodded. “I never thought I’d say this before, but I really hope you’re wrong.”
“Me too.”
***
By noon, they had traversed half of the farm-to-market roads, driving five miles out and back on each one and seeing no sign of Templeton. Faith’s hope for Candace had dwindled to a dim ember, but if they could at least catch their murderer before it was too late, then this would all be worth it.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Come on, you bastard.”
Her phone buzzed, and she nearly threw it out the window, answering it so quickly. "Bold."
“We have a hit on the van,” the officer said. “It was caught on a traffic camera leaving Rogersville heading west.”
We're sending units in that direction now."
“Good. What road was he on?”
“Looks like FtM three-eighty-two.”
Faith looked up and saw that FtM 382 was the intersection they were closing in on. She looked at Matt, and he spun the wheel, swerving West down the road.
“We’re on the road,” she said. “We’re four miles west of town. We’ll call you when we find the van.”
“Understood. Good luck, Agents.”
Faith hung up and leaned forward in her seat. Next to her, Turk stared out the window with similar intensity. She reached over and stroked his fur, allowing the contact to calm her and sharpen her focus. Matt gripped the steering wheel tightly but kept himself under control as they sped down the gravel road, eyes peeled for the van.
The gravel road turned to dirt after three miles. Five miles after that, the road continued as an unmarked trail that featured uneven terrain that forced Michael to slow down and navigate carefully so the police SUV didn’t high-center on one of the many deep ruts.
“How did he get a van down here?” he asked. “Or should we turn around and try another way?”
“Keep going,” Faith said. “He might have one of those all-terrain conversion kits that come with a lift and off-road tires. Those are popular these days.”
“If he’s not down this road, though, then we’re taking ourselves out of the action.”
“The police can handle one crazy person,” Faith told him. “I’d rather cover every base, even the ones we don’t think Templeton can reach. If they bring him in and not us, it’s still a win.”
“I know that,” he said. “I’m not worried about the credit. I just don’t want to lose him.”
"We won't," Faith said, even though she had no way of knowing that. "It's only a matter of time."
The rough terrain forced Matt to drive at only ten miles per hour, and they moved with infuriating slowness. Faith did breathing exercises to calm herself, but each minute without sight of the van caused her anxiety to reach a fever pitch.
Finally, she saw a house in the distance. She pointed, and Michael said, "I see it. Can you see the van?"
She leaned forward and said, “No. We’re still too far. Wait! Yes, I see it! It’s parked behind the house!”
“Good deal,” Michael said. “Call Rogersville PD and let them know.”
She tried calling, but her cell phone had no signal. She tried the vehicle’s radio but got only static.
“Dammit,” she said when another attempt with her cell phone ended in failure. “Didn’t we say we were going to get satellite phones?”
“I’ll put a requisition in when we get back to Philadelphia,” Michael said.
“Do you think they’ll follow the road this far?” Faith asked. “The police?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. If they know the house is out here, then yes, they’ll probably send a truck or two out this way. If they don’t, then… well, we’ll have to hope.”
They reached the house two minutes later, and quickly got out. Turk shot to the front door, and Faith said. "Go check the van, then meet us inside. Actually, come in through the back door. That way, if he tries to flee, we have both entrances covered."
“Got it,” Michael said.
He drew his weapon and rushed to the back of the house. Faith drew her own weapon and met Turk at the front door. “Easy boy,” she said, “I want us both coming home today.”
She knocked on the door and called, “FBI! Open up!”
Silence. As always. Would it kill the universe to have one of her criminals come out with their hands up and calmly submit to arrest? Just once?
She knocked again. “FBI! Walter Templeton! Open the door!”
No answer. She sighed. “Dammit. All right, Turk. Give mommy some room.”
Turk backed up dutifully, and Faith squared up to the door. She shifted her stance until she felt comfortable and took a deep breath. With a cry, she lifted her leg and kicked hard.
The door splintered easily. Faith took a brief moment to be thankful it was a cheap particle board entrance and not a solid hardwood model. In a previous case, their killer had been a huge, muscle-bound man who had broken through a solid maple door that weighed over two hundred pounds. Faith was in great shape, but she was not a muscle-bound hulk.
An eerie silence greeted her. A moment later, she heard the back door splinter, and Michael came around the corner.
The house was two stories, but a door to the right of the staircase appeared to lead to a basement. “You clear upstairs,” Faith said. “I’ll check the basement.”
“We should go together,” Michael said. “If he’s waiting down there, I don’t want you going in alone.”
“I won’t be alone,” she said. “I’ll have Turk.”
Michael frowned at her, but he didn’t protest. He knew better than to argue with her. He nodded and started up the stairs, handgun at the ready.
She tested the lock on the basement door. It was locked, of course. She squared up to it and found it just as flimsy as the front door. When it swung open, its latch shattered, she started cautiously down the stairs, Turk just ahead of her.
The light switch, thankfully, was just inside the door, so she was able to illuminate the staircase and the room below. Turk barked and rushed down the stairs, and Faith rushed after him.
Then she heard a thump, followed by a yelp from Turk.
“Turk!”
She rushed into that room and saw a chair sitting directly in the middle of it. Sitting in that chair was the bound form of Corporal Candace Rogers. She looked up at Faith with fear in her eyes and said urgently. “Behind you!”
She turned around just in time to see a leather baton heading straight for her head.
She didn’t feel the impact, but her vision burst into stars. She heard the thump of her body hitting the floor just as the world went black.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
The first thing Faith became aware of was the throbbing in her head. She opened her eyes and found that her left wouldn’t open all the way. Her forehead above felt swollen and thick. She lifted her hand to check the wound and found that it wouldn’t move.
She tried to move her legs, and when they didn't move either, she realized she was bound. She forced her eyes open wider and saw that she was bound to a chair with her arms and legs tied together.
An image of the last time she was bound like this flashed through her mind. She saw Trammell’s grinning face, smelled his sour breath, heard his lilting tenor voice, and a surge of panic coursed through her.
Her breathing quickened, coming in harsh gasps, and her vision swam as consciousness threatened to leave her once more.
“Breathe, Marine,” a stern female voice said.
Faith looked to her left and saw Corporal Candace Rogers still bound where Faith had left her. Her shoulders were slumped, and her eyes were filled with exhaustion, but her head was held high and behind the exhaustion was the steely strength of a combat veteran.
“You’re all right,” Candace said. “You have a mild concussion, but nothing more serious than that.”
Faith recalled the wet thump she heard just before she was hit. “Turk? My dog? Is he all right?”
Candace met Faith’s eyes, and her expression told her all she needed to know. Grief and anger surged through her, and when she looked to her right and saw Turk lying motionless on the ground, blood on his face, the world spun around her. Her head flopped forward, and her breathing quickened again. “Oh God,” she whispered. “Oh no. Turk. Turk!”
“Snap out of it, Staff Sergeant!” Candace barked. “We’re in a bad spot here, and if we’re going to get out of it, I need you focused.”
Faith took a deep breath and called on the memory of her time in the Corps. “Understood, Corporal,” she said crisply. “Did my partner attempt to intervene?”
“He’s tied up behind us,” Candace confirmed. “He heard you cry out when you got hit and came down after you. Doc hid just out of sight and hit him from behind.” She looked toward the staircase, and her lip curled in contempt. “Because he’s a fucking coward.”
Faith turned around and saw Michael slowly blinking himself awake. “Doc as in Doctor Walter Templeton?” she asked.
“That’s him. Traitorous bastard.”
Faith’s head ached, and her eyes had trouble focusing, but thanks to Candace’s encouragement, she was thinking clearly again. “How long have we been out?”
“Fifteen minutes or so.”
“Jesus,” Michael groaned. “What the hell was that?”
“Sap,” Candace informed them. “Heavy leather. He heard your car approach and waited for you down here. How did you find us?”
“We looked up similar cases around the country and linked them to Templeton,” Faith said. “Then we got a description of his vehicle from the VA hospital in Rogersville and put out an APB.
Candace nodded. “Well, you did almost everything right, but you probably should have waited for backup.”
“In hindsight, you’re right,” Faith said, “but I couldn’t leave a Marine behind.”
“I understand,” Candace said, “I wouldn’t have been able to stay away either.”
“How long have you been down here?”
“He took me last night,” she said. “I tried to escape when we arrived, but he injected me with a sedative. I woke up as you see me now. I don’t know how long I’ve been here.”
“What’s he doing now?” Faith asked. “Where did he go?”
“He said he was going to drive the van up the road and leave it there as a decoy. I’m hoping that PD will meet him before he comes back.”
Faith hoped the same thing. “Do you know what he plans to do when he returns?”
Candace met Faith’s eyes and said drily, “Isn’t it obvious?”
Faith sighed. “Yeah. I suppose it is.”
“How far out were those police units?”
Faith shook her head. “Probably ten minutes.”
Candace nodded. “Well, it’s a safe bet they’re not coming.”
“You’re correct,” an unfamiliar voice replied.
Candace’s eyes narrowed, and Faith followed her gaze to the staircase. A man descended slowly, and a moment later, Faith saw the smiling face of Corpsman Doctor Walter Templeton for the first time in the flesh.
It used to surprise her to meet serial killers and find that they looked just like any average individual. After over ten years with the Bureau, she no longer found that hard to believe.
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