Just Leave, page 16
“Works for me,” Fatih said. To Forster, she said,” We’ll keep our radios on. If you find anything, let us know.”
“Ten-four,” the sergeant replied.
They filed out of the house, and Faith fought to quell the panic that hovered just below the surface.
She had been in this situation before, she reminded herself. On their last case, Michael and Faith had pursued a killer who buried his victims alive in graveyards and had to rush to save a nurse who would have been his last victim. They had gotten to her in time. They could get to Shirley in time.
She tried to convince herself, but the panic remained, waiting for an opportunity to consume her.
***
Michael pushed open the door to the hangar, grunting with effort as the rusted doors protested. Faith shined her light inside and swore. The building was empty. No sign that anyone had been inside in decades.
“Well, we can cross this one off,” Faith said, holstering her weapon. “What’s the next one on the list?”
Michael checked it. “Next one’s a storm shelter. Sioux City PD is handling that one. One after that is a grain silo that State Patrol’s taking. We have a choice between…” he scanned the list, “A grain silo six miles south of here or another airplane hangar on an old wheat farm fourteen miles north. Which one do you want?”
Faith hesitated a moment. The grain silo was closer, but that meant that the police would reach it sooner. Realistically, they might not reach either in time, but Faith needed to make a decision somehow. “We’ll take the hangar,” she replied. “We’ll start on the outside and look in.”
“Works for me,” Michael said.
The drive took twenty minutes. To Faith, it seemed like twenty hours. Every minute that passed, Faith was sure they were going to hear on the radio that they were too late and Forster or one of the other officers had found Shirley dead.
She pushed the panic down and concentrated on what to do if they found Shirley. Michael knew CPR, and they had a basic first aid kit in the cruiser. Faith knew that likely wouldn’t be of much use for the kind of wounds Holland left, but if Michael could at least keep her alive until paramedics arrived, then they would have all the equipment they needed.
She radioed Forster and told him to have paramedics on standby, then waited.
Finally, they reached the coordinates of the other hangar. The hangar itself was about a quarter mile off of the road. It was larger than the other hangar, built to handle two airplanes rather than one.
The agents approached swiftly. As before, they swiftly opened the door.
The moment it opened, Shirley Brooks slumped forward, collapsing to the floor.
Michael flinched and Faith gasped. Shirley’s face was pale, her lips gray. Her head lolled to the side, but Faith could see the shallow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.
Blood trickled from a wound in her side just below her left arm. A pool of blood lay just inside the door, and the entire left side of Shirley's face was soaked.
She was alive, but she didn't have long.
Michael immediately dropped to the ground and opened the first aid kit. “Call for the ambulance,” he told Faith.
She did, and as she did, she looked around the hangar. There was no sign of anyone but Shirley and the agents there.
Then Turk barked loudly.
Faith turned to him and asked, “What is it? What do you smell?”
In response, he bolted toward the entrance of the hangar.
“Stay with her!” Faith called back to Michael as she rushed after Turk, drawing her weapon.
She heard a shriek and a moment later, William Holland burst out of a stand of trees and sprinted away, Turk hot on his heels. Despite his decidedly nonathletic build, he moved quickly and with shocking agility, managing to avoid Turk’s lunges.
“Stop!” Faith called, sprinting after him.
William lifted his eyes to her, then picked up the pace. Turk growled in irritation then simply ran around William and leapt at him from the front.
William cried out and fell backwards, narrowly avoiding Turk’s snap at his shoulders. He scrambled to his feet and slapped Turk. The German Shepherd blinked, more confused than hurt, and the hesitation allowed William to get to his feet and start running again.
Faith was nearly on him, and when he saw her closing the distance, he shrieked and sprinted faster, somehow managing to keep Faith from reaching him.
Turk snarled and leaped after him, embarrassed at having been struck and then letting his quarry escape. He snapped at William again, and this time, he stopped and crouched low. Turk tried to stop but lost his footing and fell just behind Holland. Faith couldn’t stop in time and tripped over him. He twisted his body, causing her to fall heavily. He stood and ran off again, narrowly avoiding Faith’s outstretched arm.
Faith got to her feet and sprinted after him, Turk right on her heels for a moment, then past her again. Holland looked behind, then slowed down. Maybe his energy was flagging.
“Take him down, Turk!” she called.
Turk leapt and Holland ducked. Turk twisted in the air, trying to snap at Holland, but his jaws closed on air. Holland cried out and kicked. His boot caught Turk in the air and sent him flying into a nearby ditch.
“Turk!” Faith cried, sprinting toward him.
Turk got unsteadily to his feet, and when he saw Faith rushing his way, he looked toward Holland and barked.
The message was clear. I’m fine. Go get the bad guy.
She turned back to Holland and saw where he was running now. A hundred yards past him was a late-model heavy-duty pickup. If he reached it before Faith could get him, then he would get away.
Faith sprinted after him, pushing her body to move as fast as it could. She thought of Isabel Montgomery and Darlene Jeter, left alone to face the rest of their lives without their loved ones. She thought of Kevin Malloy, killed for no other reason than that he had moved away. She thought of Shirley Brooks, barely clinging to life in the hangar that was now nearly a quarter mile behind her.
And she thought of Turk, who once more had been hurt by a murderous asshole who lacked the ability to handle his own emotional issues and felt a need to make that everyone else’s problem.
She gritted her teeth and pushed. Holland reached the truck and threw open the door. He put one foot on the step and lifted himself up, and that’s when Faith hit him.
The force of their contact knocked his head into the top of the door. He cried out, stunned, and with a cry, she pulled him off of the truck and threw him to the ground.
He lifted his hands up to his face. “Don’t hurt me!” he shrieked in a high-pitched voice. “Please!”
“William Holden,” Faith said firmly. “You are under arrest for the murders of Dr. Gemma Montgomery, Patrick Jeter, and Kevin Malloy, and for the attempted murder of Shirley Brooks.”
William’s face changed suddenly, the wide-eyed, terrified look replaced with a contemptuous scowl.
“Boy, get your ass off that floor and fight back!”
Faith blinked in surprise. The voice that came out of Holland wasn’t that of a man in his thirties but of a much older man. Her momentary hesitation allowed Holland time to get to his feet and throw a hard left hand. Faith ducked under the blow, but it glanced off of her temple with enough force to cause her to stumble. Before she could recover, Holland kicked her in the ribs. She cried out and fell to the ground.
Holland cackled, the throaty wheeze of an old man. “Caught her right in the tits,” he said in that old man voice. “Now git, boy!”
He turned back to the truck, and Faith pushed her pain away and grabbed him. Holland was slight and far from athletic, but he fought her with an almost inhuman strength, tearing her arms off of his waist. She tried to pull away, but he wrenched her wrist, forcing her to fall back against the truck. With a vicious twist, he bent her wrist backward. She collapsed to her knees and watched as Holland brought his knee up toward her face.
She managed to push the knee away, but once more, it glanced off of her head. Her teeth rattled, and her vision swam. She was aware of falling to the ground, but when she told herself to get up and fight back, her body ignored her instructions.
Holland stood over her, swimming in her vision. “She’s pretty,” he said in the younger man’s voice.
“You want her phone number or something?” the old man replied. “Get the hell out of here!”
Holland turned back to the truck, and as Faith watched him lift himself into the vehicle, a cold rage took over. With a yell, she stood and grabbed Holland again.
Holland shrieked and tried once more to throw her off of him, but Faith’s rage lent her strength. With another cry, she lifted him bodily off of the chair and threw him to the ground.
He tried to stand, and she kicked him hard. He cried out and tried once more to get up, but she kicked him again, then again, then again, each blow connecting solidly with his ribs.
Then Turk leapt in between them, growling down at Holland. Faith pulled her foot back and allowed Turk to hold Holland on the ground.
“No!” Holland cried out, lifting a hand to protect himself. “Please don’t hurt me!”
Almost immediately, the old man’s glare and his reedy voice came back.“Dammit, boy! I told you to git!” The terrified look came back, mixed with childlike guilt. “I’m sorry, Grandpa! I just wanted to see her!” The scowl came back. “You ain’t gonna see nothing but the inside of a jail cell now, boy. I shoulda knowed you wasn’t worth my time.”
His face changed again, this time blanching with horror. “No! Grandpa, I’m sorry! I’ll do better!”
“How you gonna do that?” he argued with himself. “You’re going to prison, boy. You failed. I’m done with you.”
“NO!” he shrieked. “Grandpa, no! Please don’t leave me! Please! I’m sorry! I’ll do better! I’ll escape somehow and do better! Please! Noooooo!”
The last cry ended in a long wail. Faith watched, stunned into silence as William burst into tears, covering his face with his hands and curling up into a fetal position as he wept.
“No,” he whined. “No. Please.”
Faith knelt down and handcuffed him. He made no effort to resist.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
“Well, Shirley Brooks is going to be fine,” Dr. Heath said. “I talked to the trauma center, and they were able to get her stabilized. She needed two transfusions, but she’s responding well to treatment.”
“Good,” Faith replied, “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Me too,” Dr. Heath agreed. “It’s nice to know we were able to save someone.”
Faith thought of Kevin Malloy, who would never get to see his daughter again. “Yes,” she replied. “It’s nice to be able to save someone.”
“So what’s next for you guys?” Dr. Heath asked. “Celebratory beers and pats on the back, then on to the next psycho?”
“Yep,” Michael replied. “Another day in the life.”
“Hey, it could be worse,” Dr. Heath replied. “You could be the guy who has to clean up dead bodies and catalog the evidence you scrape off of them.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, that’s worse.”
Dr. Heath laughed at his discomfort then turned to Faith. “So is there a Mr. Bold waiting back in Philadelphia. Or a Mrs. Bold, maybe?”
Faith blinked. “Oh. Um… Well, I uh…”
Michael grinned at her and said, “She’s dating someone, but it’s not serious.”
Dr. Heath arched an eyebrow. “That so?”
“No, it’s not so,” Faith said, glaring at Michael. “We’re not married, but it is serious. I’m flattered, though. Thank you.”
Dr. Heath took the disappointment well, nodding and reaching into her pocket for a business card. She flashed Faith a brilliant smile and handed her the card. “In case it ever becomes less serious,” she said.
Faith’s cheeks burned. She managed an awkward thank you and an even more awkward goodbye hug, then stepped into the airport shuttle. The driver kept his eyes stoically on the road ahead, having no interest in involving himself in the personal lives of his passengers.
Michael had no such compunction. He climbed into the seat next to Faith and grinned. “Look at you, pulling down the boys and the babes at the same time. Must be nice.”
Faith rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I thought she was into you.”
"I thought so too," Michael said, "Guess I was wrong. Good thing. I don't have to explain to Ellie why I'm getting late-night texts from some woman in Iowa."
“Good for you,” she said.
They rode in silence for the rest of the drive. When they arrived and the shuttle had left, Faith said, “Michael, can I ask you something?”
Michael thought a moment before reluctantly saying, “Sure. What is it?”
"Earlier, when we were fighting at the precinct, you told me that we weren't friends anymore. Did you mean that?"
He didn’t answer for a while. Faith’s heart sank further with each passing second. Turk looked between the two humans and realized there was nothing he could do to cheer them up right now, so he trotted off and left them their space.
Finally, Michael said, “Faith, you never left that barn. I saved you from Trammell, but I didn’t save all of you.”
She felt tears well in her eyes and looked away. She didn’t respond. Any denial she gave would be a lie.
“I carried a lot of guilt over that for a long time,” he said. “I suppose a part of me always will. But… I’m not just me anymore. I have a fiancée to think about. You scared that fiancée, Faith. You threatened her. You’ve slowly slipped further and further into paranoia, and I am no longer in a position to accept that or endure it.
“I don’t blame you, Faith. I really don’t. You’re not a bad person. You were just hurt really badly, and the scars lingered. The wounds proved too much for you. I think that when Franklin West is finally brought to justice, you’ll have a chance to heal. In time, you might come all the way back to us, but right now…”
He paused, and Faith took a shuddering breath and nodded. "I understand. I get it. I messed up with Ellie, and not just one time. You have to think about her, and that means you have to step away from me.” She met his eyes and added, “Just know that I am so, so sorry for all of the pain I’ve put you through. You are my best friend, even if I’m not yours anymore. I hate knowing that I’ve hurt you as badly as I have, and I hate knowing that I’ve hurt Ellie. Neither of you deserve it. I wish both of you a long, happy, safe life, and I hope that one day, I’ll be allowed to be part of it again. Until that time, I only ask that you not give up hope on me. I’m still here. I have some things to work through, and I know it will take a while, but I didn’t die in that chair. I am hurt, but I will heal. I’ll come back, and I’ll be the woman you knew again. I’m not asking you to wait for me. Just… answer the phone when I call.”
Michael didn’t say anything for a long moment. When he did speak, he only said, “Come on. Our flight’s arriving any moment now.”
Faith’s heart twisted, then deflated. She stared ahead while Michael grabbed their luggage and headed into the airport. After a moment, Turk nudged her. She looked down at him and managed a half-smile she didn’t feel before following him inside.
***
“Can I say the United States?”
Dr. West sighed in exasperation. “The very country you live in is your top travel destination?”
“Of course it is,” she said. “I live here, but I haven’t been everywhere. I’ve never been to Yosemite. I’ve never been to Niagara Falls.”
“You’re not missing much,” he replied. “It’s just falling water. It’s loud, too. It keeps you up when you’re trying to sleep and forget about calm reflection. If you want to live in nature, avoid waterfalls.”
“So you lived there?”
“I had a vacation home just outside,” he said. “I bought some land and built a little log cabin.”
“No way! So you had your little escape. Why did you leave it?”
“Like I said, it’s just falling water. It gets old, quick, and it’s loud always. I like water, but rivers are enough for me.”
“So did you sell the cabin?”
He shrugged. “I rent it on occasion to foolish young couples who don’t know any better.”
“Why Dr. West,” Faith said in mock offense. “That is positively rude of you.”
“I’m a therapist,” he said with a smile, “not a saint.”
Faith woke with a gasp. Turk immediately barked and rushed to her side, licking her face.
She pushed him away gently. “I’m fine, Turk,” she said.
Niagara Falls. How had she forgotten about this? Dr. West had a cabin in the forest near Niagara Falls. If he had fled Philadelphia, that’s where he had gone.
She got out of bed and pulled up a map of Niagara Falls. Turk sat at her side, watching intently, sensing that Faith was doing something important.
There were a number of service roads that wound through the forest surrounding the falls on both the American and Canadian sides. Faith focused on the American side. It would be very difficult for West to make it over the Canadian border now that there was a manhunt for him.
Then again, he had bought the cabin long before the manhunt. Still, Faith imagined that a serial killer wouldn’t want his identity logged every time he wanted to take a weekend off in the woods. Odds are, he was on the States side of the falls.
She eliminated most of the service roads as being zoned for public use. A few more were eliminated because they were off-limits to anything other than government vehicles.
One road was open for public use but zoned for private use. Meaning that if Dr. West wanted to buy an acre or two and build a cabin nearby, he could.
She tracked the length of that road. It was about three miles long, a short spur that led from another service road into a thickly forested area.
Cabins lined the spur, although from this image, they appeared to be houses more than cabins. A small vacation subdivision. The perfect place for a serial killer to hang out. Far removed from the city but not so removed as to raise eyebrows. Faith wasn’t sure which one was West’s, but she imagined the answer to that would be clear when she arrived.
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