No Escape, page 7
“He’s a man of habit,” the doctor said. “Looking at his notes, he used to have problems with obsessive compulsion if something wasn’t finished.”
“He didn’t exhibit this during the case,” Will pondered out loud.
“No,” answered Irene Stadler. “His obsessive-compulsive behaviors appeared to manifest strongly about three months into his incarceration. After that, he could never leave anything undone. Valerie had an altercation with him in the common room earlier. If… If he saw Valerie and, by extension, Suzie as loose ends…”
“Wait a second,” Charlie said, leaning forward in his chair. “Let’s say Val and Suzie chased him out of here, followed him at least.”
“They might think they’re following him,” Will said, fear bubbling in his veins. “But he might lure them into a trap.”
Will’s mind was alive with possibilities. A theory of Valerie’s next movements was building, and with it, a potential line of inquiry, all by reframing John Murphy’s motivations.
“Thank you, Dr. Stadler,” he said, his voice grim. “You’ve given us something to work with.”
“Has she?” Charlie asked.
They stepped into the corridor and Will started rushing as fast as he could toward the exit.
“Mind filling me in?” Charlie said.
“If he’s set a trap,” Will explained, “then he might just go where he thinks Valerie will head. What we need to do is to get into Valerie’s head now, not John Murphy’s. We’ve worked with her for a long time, we just have to anticipate what she thinks John’s next destination will be. Because John is highly insightful and could well figure it out and get there before us and…”
“And ambush her.” Charlie finished the thought for him. “Do you have an idea of where she might go?”
“I do now,” Will said. “Let’s get to the car.”
As they rushed through Shady Pines, the storm outside seemed to echo the one brewing within Will’s heart. He knew they were in a race against time, and he could only hope that they would find Valerie and Suzie before that time ran out.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The road surface felt slippery as Valerie, who had convinced Suzie to let her take the wheel, drove through the night.
All was dark and full of terrors, the storm still in full violent flow like a malevolent beast determined to destroy everything in its path. Sheets of rain fell from the heavens, turning the roads into treacherous, glistening ribbons that shimmered in the truck’s headlights like snake scales.
Valerie gripped the steering wheel of the old truck, her knuckles white from the effort, as she navigated the slippery roads. Suzie sat in the passenger seat, her face a mix of concern and determination.
The silence between them was thick, like the heavy rain outside, but Valerie knew she had to break it. Something had been building in her mind during the drive. Like a thorn in her side that had to be removed or she’d just scream.
It was time for her to confess something she had been holding onto for far too long.
“Suzie,” Valerie started, her voice barely audible over the howling wind and pounding rain, “there’s something I need to tell you. It’s about Mom.”
Suzie’s eyes widened with surprise, and she turned to face Valerie. “What is it?” she asked cautiously.
Valerie took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “The reason I ended up being committed to Shady Pines… it’s because Mom confessed to being involved in the death of Jake Wilson, our biological dad.”
Suzie’s face went pale, and her eyes filled with shock and disbelief. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You’re telling me that our mother… had something to do with our father’s death?”
Valerie nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes. She didn’t give me all the details, but she admitted to being a part of it. I didn’t want to tell you, but I spent so long keeping everything to myself, I felt I had to tell you.”
Anger flashed across Suzie’s face, and she clenched her fists tightly. “What am I supposed to do with that information, Valerie?” she demanded, her voice rising in volume. “Our mother… a murderer?”
“I don’t know, Suzie,” Valerie admitted, her voice shaking. “I don’t know what to do either. But we’re in this together, and I thought you had a right to know.”
“You sure know how to pick your timing,” Suzie said, shaking her head from the passenger’s seat.
“Suzie,” Valerie said quietly. “I don’t know how things will go if we catch John Murphy. If the worst—”
“Don’t say that!”
“If the worst were to happen,” Valerie continued, ignoring the interruption, “I need you to know what I know. Otherwise, it’ll be lost forever.”
Nothing more could be said, and Valerie knew there was no sense in upsetting her sister more.
As the truck continued to barrel down the rain-slicked road, the sisters sat in silence, each grappling with the terrible secret they now shared, while the storm outside raged on.
The rain continued to pour as Valerie spotted the turnoff from the main road, a sense of deep unease washing over her as she saw it. With a sharp turn of the steering wheel, the old truck skidded onto the narrow street, the tires squealing in protest. Water splashed up around them, drenching the truck and making it even more difficult to see.
As they drove down the dark street, Valerie tried to keep her voice steady. “John Murphy’s cousin Joshua lives on this street. When I arrested John a year ago, he was in the middle of trying to kill Joshua at the store he ran. I came here to visit him once before the trial.”
Suzie’s eyes widened in horror, but she remained silent, listening intently to Valerie’s words.
Valerie continued, “Back at Shady Pines, John told me he was going to finish his work. He has to have meant Joshua. We need to stop him from killing his cousin. It’s not just about saving Joshua’s life, but also about stopping John from becoming even more dangerous.”
“More dangerous?” Suzie scoffed.
“In my line of work,” Valerie explained, “we talk about escalation. Killers reach a point where the gap between kills lessens and they go into a frenzy of sorts. My worry is that after the murders at Shady Pines and if he kills Joshua, he’ll go on an even larger spree and many more will die. We can’t let that happen.”
The truck rumbled down the rain-soaked street, the beams of its headlights cutting through the darkness and illuminating the row of houses that lined the road. The windows of the homes were like ominous eyes staring out into the storm, the glass reflecting the lightning that cracked across the sky.
Finally, Valerie spotted the house she was looking for and then took the truck around the back to the next street.
“We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves,” Valerie said. “We’ll park here and I’ll walk around.”
The rain pelted the roof of the truck, a relentless drumbeat that almost offset the rhythm of her thumping heart.
“You mean we’ll walk around?” Suzie asked.
“Sis,” Valerie said softly, “I love you. I can’t keep dragging you into danger. Please stay here and—”
“It’s not only your job to look after me,” Suzie said pointedly. “It’s my job to look after you.”
“But—”
“But nothing,” Suzie replied. “I’m coming with you no matter what.”
Valerie sighed, knowing that there was no way to persuade her sister out of something once she put her mind to it. Instead, she turned to Suzie, her expression grim. “Okay… But look, we need to be careful. If John’s already here, he’ll be expecting us. We have to be smart, and we have to be quiet. If I tell you to run, you need to. If I tell you to hide, you need to.”
Suzie nodded, determination etched on her face. “Let’s do this.”
Worry flowed through Valerie for her sister and for herself. She wondered if she even had it anymore. She was out of practice. That edge could easily go blunt. She’d seen it happen before to other agents. They didn’t seem to know when it had happened to them, continuing on until they were plucked from the field or something terrible happened.
Valerie wondered if her skills had blunted without her knowing, too. But there was no time to wait. If that was the case, she’d find out soon enough.
As Valerie and Suzie stepped out of the truck and into the torrential downpour, they knew they were walking into the heart of danger. But they had no choice—they had to stop John Murphy and save Joshua’s life. The storm continued to rage around them, as if echoing the fierce battle of wills that was about to take place.
Valerie and Suzie moved cautiously through the rain, skulking through several yards, doing their best to stay hidden as they approached the house. Valerie couldn’t help but feel the weight of her missing gun and badge, wishing she had them now more than ever.
As they reached the back of the house, they noticed the rear door was slightly ajar. Exchanging a nervous glance with Suzie, Valerie carefully pushed the door open, and they slipped inside.
The house was eerily quiet, the silence only broken by the relentless pounding of the rain against the windows. Valerie’s gut churned with worry, fearing that John Murphy was already there, lurking in the shadows.
They moved stealthily through the darkened rooms, Valerie leading the way with a kitchen knife she had grabbed as a makeshift weapon. The tension was palpable, the air heavy with dread and uncertainty.
As they rounded a corner, they came to a partially open door. Through the gap, Valerie could see a man lying on the floor, the flickering glow of a television screen casting a ghostly blue hue over the room. Suzie instinctively tried to rush in, but Valerie grabbed her arm, holding her back.
“Wait here,” Valerie whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of their own ragged breathing.
Suzie hesitated but eventually nodded, her eyes wide with fear.
With her pulse soaring in her chest, Valerie slowly pushed the door all the way open and stepped into the room, her grip on the knife tightening. She crept closer to the prone figure on the floor, every step feeling like an eternity. The suspense was unbearable, her senses on high alert for any sign of danger.
Finally, she reached the man’s side and crouched down to check for a pulse. As her fingers touched his wrist, he suddenly grabbed her arm, his grip like a vise. Valerie stifled a scream, her heart threatening to burst from her chest as she stared into the face of the man she had come to save—Joshua Murphy.
The man gasped and leaped up, and Valerie helped him to his feet. She studied his face, noting how much more haggard he appeared than she remembered.
“Joshua! You’re alive,” Valerie said. “I’m here to help you.”
He nodded groggily. “What the hell are you doing in my house?”
Valerie helped him into a nearby chair. He looked older and more worn down than she remembered. “Do you remember me?” she asked. “I’m the agent who saved your life when John Murphy attacked you. Valerie Law.”
Recognition dawned on Joshua’s face. He looked shocked for a moment at the memory and then groaned. “Yes, I remember you. But why are you here? Can’t a man have some privacy?”
“Joshua,” Valerie explained, “your cousin has escaped and we’ve good reason to think he might be coming for you. If he’s not here already… How did you end up on the floor? Were you attacked?” Valerie said.
“Please don’t tell me he’s…” Joshua’s words trailed off as he looked up nervously at the sound of a creaking floorboard. It was Suzie entering the room.
“That’s my sister,” Valerie said. “You’re safe.”
“Sister?” Joshua smirked. “Is it bring your sister to work day at the FBI?”
“I’m going to level with you, Joshua,” Valerie said grimly. “I’m not currently with the FBI. But I am here to help you. What happened? Did John do this to you?”
Joshua confessed, “I’ve been drinking heavily since John attacked me last time, always looking over my shoulder, scared. Been that way for months since I got out of the hospital. It’s not the first time I passed out drunk on the floor. Sometimes the booze is the only thing that’ll let me sleep.”
“Because you’re scared of John?” Valerie said, almost rhetorically.
He nodded.
“I am too, Joshua. That’s why I’m here.”
“I can’t shake this… guilt either, you know,” Joshua admitted, his voice trembling.
“What do you feel guilty about?” she asked, concern on her face.
But Joshua quickly changed the subject, avoiding her gaze. “Never mind that,” he said. “It’s not important.”
“Joshua,” Valerie said firmly, “John has escaped from custody, and I think he might be coming for you.”
Joshua’s face turned pale.
“He’s really out?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I knew this would happen!”
“Is there somewhere you could go that’s safer?” Suzie offered. “Like a friend’s house he doesn’t know about?”
“I won’t feel safe anywhere,” he said. “John always liked to play games with people’s emotions. He wants me to run, no doubt. He wants me to be scared. I’m tired of being manipulated by him!”
That statement made Valerie realize something. It was a realization that stopped her in her tracks.
“I’ve been stupid,” she muttered. “John Murphy deliberately told me he was going to finish his work, knowing that I would either follow him or alert the police. Meanwhile, he could be out there killing someone else. We’ve been duped.”
Suddenly, flashing lights appeared outside. Valerie and Suzie knew they had to leave immediately. “We need to go, now,” Valerie said urgently.
“Don’t leave me!” Joshua said.
“It’s going to be okay,” Valerie said softly. “If I’m right, two of the finest people I know will be here soon, and they’ll make sure you’re safe.”
“What about you?” he asked.
“I need to stop your cousin,” Valerie said. “Just… don’t tell the authorities we were here, okay?”
“Anything for the lady who saved me.” Joshua smiled.
“Stay safe!” Valerie said.
They dashed out the back door, into the rain-soaked night, and scrambled over a fence. They raced through several backyards, Valerie’s lungs burning with exertion until they reached the truck they had stolen earlier.
As they climbed in, Suzie asked, “Do you think they saw us?”
“I don’t know,” Valerie replied, “but we can’t stick around to find out.”
Just before the police could spot them, they sped off into the darkness, uncertain of where John Murphy was or what he had planned next.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Martha lay in bed, her mind a sea of worry. Darkness often did that to her, but tonight was different. Tonight was worse.
The rain pattered against the window, creating an eerie soundtrack to the late night. The shadows in the room danced and swayed as if the darkness itself were alive. She strained her ears, trying to make out the sound she’d heard over the steady drumming of the raindrops.
“Albert,” she whispered, nudging her husband. “Albert, wake up.”
Albert stirred, grumbling incoherently. “What… what is it, Martha?”
“I heard something downstairs,” she said, her voice barely more than a breath. Her eyes darted around the room, searching the shadows for some unknown threat.
Albert sighed, his annoyance palpable. “It’s probably just the storm, or the house settling. Go back to sleep.”
“No, I heard something move. I’m sure of it,” Martha insisted, her voice growing more urgent. “Please, Albert, just go check.”
Heaving another sigh, Albert pushed the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Fine, fine. I’ll go look. But when I come back and tell you it was nothing, you owe me an extra hour of sleep in the morning.”
Martha watched as her husband shuffled out of the bedroom, the dim light from the hallway casting his figure in a ghostly silhouette. She pulled the covers up to her chin and listened intently, her heart thudding in her ears. The storm continued to rage outside, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more sinister at play.
Martha’s eyes remained wide open, her gaze fixated on the doorway as she waited for Albert to return. The storm continued its relentless assault, the rain’s staccato rhythm providing an eerie soundtrack to her mounting anxiety. Minutes stretched on, feeling like hours, and still, Albert hadn’t come back.
A crack of thunder roared, and she couldn’t help but jump, her pulse racing even faster. Beneath the cacophony of the storm, she thought she’d detected another sound—a muffled thud, perhaps? Her mind raced, conjuring up all manner of terrible possibilities.
“Albert?” she called out hesitantly, her voice barely audible. She cleared her throat, trying again, louder. “Albert! Are you okay?”
Silence answered her, the storm swallowing her cries. Martha’s worry for her husband transformed into outright fear. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she steeled herself and crept toward the doorway, her bare feet cold against the wood floor.
As she stepped into the hallway, the shadows closed in around her, the darkness pressing against her skin like a living thing. She reached for the railing, her fingers trembling as she began to descend the stairs. Each creaking step echoed through the house, a chilling reminder of the unknown danger that might be lurking below.
“Albert?” she whispered again, her voice shaking as much as her hands. “Please, answer me.”
The storm raged on, indifferent to her terror, as Martha inched her way down the stairs, her legs trembling with tiredness and apprehension.
Martha moved further into the house, her eyes straining to adjust to the oppressive darkness. She caught sight of Albert standing by a door, his back to her. Relief flooded her, and she called out to him, but he remained motionless and silent.
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